services, on account of the industry which was shown in them, and the
fairness of my intentions, have obtained the acceptance of my sovereign,
it would be absurd in me to range myself on the side of the Duke of
Bedford and the Corresponding Society, or, as far as in me lies, to
permit a dispute on the rate at which the authority appointed by _our_
Constitution to estimate such things has been pleased to set them.

Loose libels ought to be passed by in silence and contempt. By me they
have been so always. I knew, that, as long as I remained in public, I
should live down the calumnies of malice and the judgments of ignorance.
If I happened to be now and then in the wrong, (as who is not?) like all
other men, I must bear the consequence of my faults and my mistakes. The
libels of the present day are just of the same stuff as the libels of
the past. But they derive an importance from the rank of the persons
they come from, and the gravity of the place where they were uttered. In
some way or other I ought to take some notice of them. To assert myself
thus traduced is not vanity or arrogance. It is a demand of justice; it
is a demonstration of gratitude. If I am unworthy, the ministers are
worse than prodigal. On that hypothesis, I perfectly agree with the Duke
of Bedford.

For whatever I have been (I am now no more) I put myself on my country.
I ought to be allowed a reasonable freedom, because I stand upon my
deliverance; and no culprit ought to plead in irons. Even in the utmost
latitude of defensive liberty, I wish to preserve all possible decorum.
Whatever it may be in the eyes of these noble persons themselves, to me
their situation calls for the most profound respect. If I should happen
to trespass a little, which I trust I shall not, let it always be
supposed that a confusion of characters may produce mistakes,--that, in
the masquerades of the grand carnival of our age, whimsical adventures
happen, odd things are said and pass off. If I should fail a single
point in the high respect I owe to those illustrious persons, I cannot
be supposed to mean the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Lauderdale of
the House of Peers, but the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Lauderdale
of Palace Yard,--the Dukes and Earls of Brentford. There they are on the
pavement; there they seem to come nearer to my humble level, and,
virtually at least, to have waived their high privilege.

Making this protestation, I refuse all revolutionary tribu