A man, not very honourably distinguished in the world, commences a formal attack upon your favourite, considering nothing but how he might best expose his person and principles to detestation, and the national character of his countrymen to contempt.  The natives of that country, Sir, are as much distinguished by a peculiar character as by your Majesty’s favour.  Like another chosen people, they have been conducted into the land of plenty, where they find themselves effectually marked and divided from mankind.  There is hardly a period at which the most irregular character may not be redeemed.  The mistakes of one sex find a retreat in patriotism, those of the other in devotion.  Mr. Wilkes brought with him into politics the same liberal sentiments by which his private conduct had been directed, and seemed to think that, as there are few excesses in which an English gentleman may not be permitted to indulge, the same latitude was allowed him in the choice of his political principles, and in the spirit of maintaining them.  I mean to state, not entirely to defend, his conduct.  In the earnestness of his zeal he suffered some unwarrantable insinuations to escape him.  He said more than moderate men would justify, but not enough to entitle him to the honour of your Majesty’s personal resentment.  The rays of royal indignation, collected upon him, served only to illuminate, and could not consume.  Animated by the favour of the people on the one side, and heated by persecution on the other, his views and sentiments changed with his situation.  Hardly serious at first, he is now an enthusiast.  The coldest bodies warm with opposition, the hardest sparkle in collision.—­There is a holy, mistaken zeal in politics as well as religion.  By persuading others, we convince ourselves.  The passions are engaged, and create a material affection in the mind, which forces us to love the cause for which we suffer.  Is this a contention worthy of a king?  Are you not sensible how much the meanness of the cause gives an air of ridicule to the serious difficulties into which you have been betrayed?  The destruction of one man has been now, for many years, the sole object of your government; and, if there can be anything still more disgraceful, we have seen, for such an object, the utmost influence of the executive power, and every ministerial artifice, exerted without success.  Nor can you ever succeed, unless he should be imprudent enough to forfeit the protection of those laws to which you owe your crown, or unless your minister should persuade you to make it a question of force alone, and try the whole strength of government in opposition to the people.  The lessons he has received from experience will probably guard him from such excess of folly, and in your Majesty’s virtues we find an unquestionable assurance that no illegal violence will be attempted.