The question was reviewed and revived in a volume published by Mr. Britton, F.S.A., in June 1848, entitled “The Authorship of the Letters of Junius Elucidated;” in which is advocated with great care the opinion that the Letters were, to a certain extent, the joint productions of Lieut.-Colonel Isaac Barré, M.P., Lord Shelburne, (afterwards Marquess of Lansdowne,) and Dunning, Lord Ashburton. Of these three persons the late Sir Francis Baring commissioned Sir Joshua Reynolds, in 1784-5, to paint portraits in one picture, which is regarded as evidence of joint authorship.
Only a week before his death, 1804, the Marquess of Lansdowne was personally appealed to on the subject of Junius, by Sir Richard Phillips. In conversation, the Marquess said, “No, no, I am not equal to Junius; I could not be the author; but the grounds of secrecy are now so far removed by death (Dunning and Barré were at that time dead), and change of circumstances, that it is unnecessary the author of Junius should much longer be unknown. The world is curious about him, and I could make a very interesting publication on the subject. I knew Junius, and I know all about the writing and production of these Letters.” The Marquess added, “If I live over the summer, which, however, I don’t expect, I promise you a very interesting pamphlet about Junius. I will put my name to it; I will set the question at rest for ever.” The death of the Marquess, however, occurred in a week. In a letter to the Monthly Magazine, July 1813, the son of the Marquess of Lansdowne says:—“It is not impossible my father may have been acquainted with the fact; but perhaps he was under some obligation to secrecy, as he never made any communication to me on the subject.”
Lord Mahon (now Earl Stanhope) at length and with minuteness enters, in his History, into a vindication of the claims of Sir Philip Francis, grounding his partisanship on the close similarity of handwriting established by careful comparison of facsimiles; the likeness of the style of Sir Philip’s speeches in Parliament to that of Junius—biting, pithy, full of antithesis and invective; the tenderness and bitterness displayed by Junius towards persons to whom Sir Philip stood well or ill affected; the correspondence of the dates of the letters with those of certain movements of Sir Philip; and the evidence of Junius’ close acquaintance with the War Office, where Sir Philip held a post. It seems generally agreed that the weight of proof is on the side of Sir Philip Francis; but there will always be found adherents of other names—as O’Connell, in the following passage, of Burke:—
“It is my decided opinion,” said O’Connell, “that Edmund Burke was the author of the ‘Letters of Junius.’ There are many considerations which compel me to form that opinion. Burke was the only man who made that figure in the world which the author of ‘Junius’ must have made, if engaged in public life; and the entire of ‘Junius’s Letters’ evinces that close acquaintance with the springs of political machinery which no man could possess unless actively engaged in politics. Again, Burke was fond of chemical similes; now chemical similes are frequent in Junius. Again; Burke was an Irishman; now Junius, speaking of the Government of Ireland, twice calls it ‘the Castle,’ a familiar phrase amongst Irish politicians, but one which an Englishman, in those days, would never have used. Again; Burke had this peculiarity in writing, that he often wrote many words without taking the pen from the paper. The very same peculiarity existed in the manuscripts of Junius, although they were written in a feigned hand. Again; it may be said that the style is not Burke’s. In reply, I would say that Burke was master of many styles. His work on natural society, in imitation of Lord Bolingbroke, is as different in point of style from his work on the French Revolution, as both are from the ‘Letters of Junius.’ Again; Junius speaks of the King’s insanity as a divine visitation; Burke said the very same thing in the House of Commons. Again; had any one of the other men to whom the ‘Letters’ are, with any show of probability, ascribed, been really the author, such author would have had no reason for disowning the book, or remaining incognito. Any one of them but Burke would have claimed the authorship and fame—and proud fame. But Burke had a very cogent reason for remaining incognito. In claiming Junius he would have claimed his own condemnation and dishonour, for Burke died a pensioner. Burke was, moreover, the only pensioner who had the commanding talent displayed in the writings of Junius. Now, when I lay all these considerations together, and especially when I reflect that a cogent reason exists for Burke’s silence as to his own authorship, I confess I think I have got a presumptive proof of the very strongest nature, that Burke was the writer.”[4]
LITERARY COFFEE-HOUSES IN THE LAST CENTURY.
Three of the most celebrated resorts of the literati of the last century were Will’s Coffee-house, No. 23, on the north side of Great Russell-street, Covent Garden, at the end of Bow-street. This was the favourite resort of Dryden, who had here his own chair, in winter by the fireside, in summer in the balcony: the company met in the first floor, and there smoked; and the young beaux and wits were sometimes honoured with a pinch out of Dryden’s snuff-box. Will’s was the resort of men of genius till 1710: it was subsequently occupied by a perfumer.
Tom’s, No. 17, Great Russell-street, had nearly 700 subscribers, at a guinea a-head, from 1764 to 1768, and had its card, conversation, and coffee-rooms, where assembled Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Murphy, Goldsmith, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Foote, and other men of talent: the tables and books of the club were not many years since preserved in the house, the first floor of which was then occupied by Mr. Webster, the medallist.
Button’s, “over against” Tom’s, was the receiving-house for contributions to The Guardian, in a lion-head box, the aperture for which remains in the wall to mark the place. Button had been servant to Lady Warwick, whom Addison married; and the house was frequented by Pope, Steele, Swift, Arbuthnot, and Addison. The lion’s head for a letter-box, “the best head in England,” was set up in imitation of the celebrated lion at Venice: it was removed from Button’s to the Shakspeare’s Head, under the arcade in Covent Garden; and in 1751, was placed in the Bedford, next door. This lion’s head is now treasured as a relic by the Bedford family.