event (without any reference to vice or virtue) were interesting to human nature; your Grace alone should appear so miserably depressed and afflicted? In such universal joy, I know not where you will look for a compliment of condolence, unless you appeal to the tender, sympathetic sorrows of Mr. Bradshaw. That cream-coloured gentleman's tears, affecting as they are, carry consolation along with them. He never weeps, but, like an April shower, with a lambent ray of sunshine upon his countenance. From the feelings of honest men upon this joyful occasion, I do not mean to draw any conclusion to your Grace. They naturally rejoice when they see a signal instance of tyranny resisted with success;—of treachery exposed to the derision of the world, an infamous informer defeated, and an impudent robber dragged to the public gibbet.—But in the other class of mankind, I own I expected to meet the Duke of Grafton. Men who had no regard for justice, nor any sense of honour, seem as heartily pleased with Sir James Lowther's well-deserved punishment, as if it did not constitute an example against themselves. The unhappy Baronet has no friends, even among those
