ned. But we are not
to delude ourselves. No man can be connected with a party which
professes publicly to admire or may be justly suspected of secretly
abetting this French Revolution, who must not be drawn into its vortex,
and become the instrument of its designs.

What I have written is in the manner of apology. I have given it that
form, as being the most respectful; but I do not stand in need of any
apology for my principles, my sentiments, or my conduct. I wish the
paper I lay before your Grace to be considered as my most deliberate,
solemn, and even testamentary protest against the proceedings and
doctrines which have hitherto produced so much mischief in the world,
and which will infallibly produce more, and possibly greater. It is my
protest against the delusion by which some have been taught to look upon
this Jacobin contest at home as an ordinary party squabble about place
or patronage, and to regard this Jacobin war abroad as a common war
about trade or territorial boundaries, or about a political balance of
power among rival or jealous states. Above all, it is my protest against
that mistake or perversion of sentiment by which they who agree with us
in our principles may on collateral considerations be regarded as
enemies, and those who, in this perilous crisis of all human affairs,
differ from us fundamentally and practically, as our best friends. Thus
persons of great importance may be made to turn the whole of their
influence to the destruction of their principles.

I now make it my humble request to your Grace, that you will not give
any sort of answer to the paper I send, or to this letter, except barely
to let me know that you have received them. I even wish that at present
you may not read the paper which I transmit: lock it up in the drawer of
your library-table; and when a day of compulsory reflection comes, then
be pleased to turn to it. Then remember that your Grace had a true
friend, who had, comparatively with men of your description, a very
small interest in opposing the modern system of morality and policy, but
who, under every discouragement, was faithful to public duty and to
private friendship. I shall then probably be dead. I am sure I do not
wish to live to see such things. But whilst I do live, I shall pursue
the same course, although my merits should be taken for unpardonable
faults, and as such avenged, not only on myself, but on my posterity.

Adieu, my dear Lord; and do me the just