18--

"My Lord:

"I have had the honor of receiving both your communications, and have
read them, especially that of the first instant, with great pain. I need
not tell you, that I have been your father's friend--that I have been,
and still am your friend, and as such, from my age and anxiety for your
lordship's welfare and reputation, I must take the liberty of one who
has both sincerely at heart, to write to you in terms which a mere agent
could not with propriety use. As this letter, therefore, is written
for your own eye only, you will be good enough to remember that in
everything severe and home-spoken in it, the friend, and not the agent
speaks--at the same time, I must admit, that it is from the knowledge
gained as an agent that I remonstrate as a friend.

"It is now beyond a doubt, my Lord, that your position is one surrounded
with difficulties scarcely to be surmounted, unless by measures which I,
as an honest man, cannot permit myself to adopt. So long as the course
of life, which it has pleased your lordship's better taste and judgment
to pursue, did not bring within the compass of my duties as your agent,
the exhibition of principles at variance with humanity and justice, so
long did I fulfil those duties with all the ability and zeal for your
just interests which I could exert. But now I perceive, that you have
driven me to that line beyond which I cannot put my foot, without
dishonor to myself. I have been the agent of your property, my Lord, but
I shall never become the instrument of your vices; and believe me, this
is a distinction which in our unhappy country, is too seldom observed.
Many an agent, my Lord, has built himself a fortune out of the very
necessities of his employer, and left to his children the honorable
reflection that their independence originated from profligacy on the one
hand and dishonesty on the other. You see, my Lord, I find it necessary
to be very plain with you, and to say, that however you may feel
yourself disposed to follow the one course, I shall not rival you in the
other. I cannot become a scourge inflicted by your necessities, not to
use a harsher word, upon a suffering people, who are already exhausted
and provoked by an excess of severity and neglect. Think of the
predicament in which you would have me stand--of the defence which you
place, in my lips. Should your tenantry ask me--'why are you thus cruel
and oppressive-upon us?' what reply could I make but this--'I am