it would be impossible for any man to write for the news-papers, and not be discovered.
He repeatedly affirms, or intimates at least, that he knows the author of these letters.—With what colour of truth, then, can he pretend, that I am no where to be encountered but in a news-paper?—I shall leave him to his suspicions. It is not necessary that I should confide in the honour and discretion of a man, who already seems to hate me with as much rancour as if I had formerly been his friend.—But he asserts, that he has traced me through a variety of signatures. To make the discovery of any importance to his purpose, he should have proved, either that the fictitious character of Junius has not been consistently supported, or that the author has maintained different principles under different signatures.—I cannot recall to my memory the numberless trifles I have written;—but I rely upon the consciousness of my own integrity, and defy him to fix any colourable charge of inconsistency upon me.
I am not bound to assign the secret motives of his apparent hatred of Mr. Wilkes: nor does it follow that I may not judge fairly
