It is not for a person no better informed than myself to pronounce on systems of government—­still less do I affect to have more enlarged notions than the generality of mankind; but I may, without risking those imputations, venture to say, I have no childish or irrational deference for the persons of Kings.  I know they are not, by nature, better than other men, and a neglected or vicious education may often render them worse.  This does not, however, make me less respect the office.  I respect it as the means chosen by the people to preserve internal peace and order—­to banish corruption and petty tyrants ["And fly from petty tyrants to the throne.”—­Goldsmith]—­and give vigour to the execution of the laws.

Regarded in this point of view, I cannot but lament the mode which has lately prevailed of endeavouring to alienate the consideration due to our King’s public character, by personal ridicule.  If an individual were attacked in this manner, his house beset with spies, his conversation with his family listened to, and the most trifling actions of his life recorded, it would be deemed unfair and illiberal, and he who should practice such meanness would be thought worthy of no punishment more respectful than what might be inflicted by an oaken censor, or an admonitory heel.—­But it will be said, a King is not an individual, and that such a habit, or such an amusement, is beneath the dignity of his character.  Yet would it be but consistent in those who labour to prove, by the public acts of Kings, that they are less than men, not to exact, that, in their private lives, they should be more.—­The great prototype of modern satyrists, Junius, does not allow that any credit should be given a Monarch for his domestic virtues; is he then to be reduced to an individual, only to scrutinize his foibles, and is his station to serve only as the medium of their publicity?  Are these literary miners to penetrate the recesses of private life, only to bring to light the dross?  Do they analyse only to discover poisons?  Such employments may be congenial to their natures, but have little claim to public remuneration.  The merit of a detractor is not much superior to that of a flatterer; nor is a Prince more likely to be amended by imputed follies, than by undeserved panegyrics.  If any man wished to represent his King advantageously, it could not be done better than by remarking, that, after all the watchings of assiduous necessity, and the laborious researches of interested curiosity, it appears, that his private life affords no other subjects of ridicule than, that he is temperate, domestic, and oeconomical, and, as is natural to an active mind, wishes to be informed of whatever happens not to be familiar to him.  It were to be desired that some of these accusations were applicable to those who are so much scandalized at them:  but they are not littlenesses—­the littleness is in him who condescends to report them; and I have often wondered that men of genius should make a traffic of gleaning from the refuse of anti-chambers, and retailing the anecdotes of pages and footmen!