provocation must needs have been great, which could stir up an obscure indolent Drapier to become an author.  One would almost think the very stones in the street would rise up in such a cause:  And I am not sure they will not do so against Mr. Wood if ever he comes within their reach.  It is a known story of the dumb boy, whose tongue forced a passage for speech by the horror of seeing a dagger at his father’s throat.  This may lessen the wonder that a tradesman hid in privacy and silence should cry out when the life and being of his political mother are attempted before his face, and by so infamous a hand.

But in the meantime, Mr. Wood the destroyer of a kingdom walks about in triumph (unless it be true that he is in jail for debt) while he who endeavoured to assert the liberty of his country is forced to hide his head for occasionally dealing in a matter of controversy.  However I am not the first who hath been condemned to death for gaining a great victory over a powerful enemy, by disobeying for once the strict orders of military discipline.

I am now resolved to follow (after the usual proceeding of mankind, because it is too late) the advice given me by a certain Dean.  He shewed the mistake I was in of trusting to the general good-will of the people, “that I had succeeded hitherto better than could be expected, but that some unfortunate circumstantial lapse would probably bring me within the reach of power.  That my good intentions would be no security against those who watched every motion of my pen, in the bitterness of my soul.”  He produced an instance of “a writer as innocent, as disinterested, and as well meaning as myself, where the printer, who had the author in his power, was prosecuted with the utmost zeal, the jury sent back nine times, and the man given up to the mercy of the court."[17] The Dean further observed “that I was in a manner left alone to stand the battle, while others who had ten thousand times better talents than a Drapier, were so prudent to lie still, and perhaps thought it no unpleasant amusement to look on with safety, while another was giving them diversion at the hazard of his liberty and fortune, and thought they made a sufficient recompense by a little applause.”  Whereupon he concluded with a short story of a Jew at Madrid, who being condemned to the fire on account of his religion, a crowd of school-boys following him to the stake, and apprehending they might lose their sport, if he should happen to recant, would often clap him on the back, and cry, “Sta firme Moyse (Moses, continue steadfast).”

[Footnote 17:  This was for the publication of “A Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufactures.” [T.S.]]

I allow this gentleman’s advice to have been good, and his observations just, and in one respect my condition is worse than that of the Jew, for no recantation will save me.  However it should seem by some late proceedings, that my state is not altogether deplorable.  This I can impute to nothing but the steadiness of two impartial grand juries, which hath confirmed in me an opinion I have long entertained, that, as philosophers say, “virtue is seated in the middle,” so in another sense, the little virtue left in the world is chiefly to be found among the middle rank of mankind, who are neither allured out of her paths by ambition, nor driven by poverty.