The Virginia Gazette

Mr. Rind,

The distance I live from the press, and the uncertainty of the post, prevented my sooner seeing the angry letter in your paper of the 31st ult. That the Gentleman, however, may not have the mortification of thinking himself entirely unnoticed, you will please to give the following a place in your Gazette, as soon as convenient, and you will oblige

A CUSTOMER.

To PEREGRINUS.

SIR,

It was really obliging in you to inform the public, that you undertook the publication of your remarks, under the guidance of prudence; yourself (and many such, I guess, there be) else, possibly, readers, less discerning than might have overlooked so essential a circumstance. Remarks shall I call them? On what? Not on any thing I have said; for there was hardly a paragraph in the paper, which would not have afforded you as apt an occasion of introducing a defence of the Clergy, as that you pitched upon. The writer of which will not pay the Clergy of Virginia so ill a compliment, as to suppose any explanation or apology necessary to them. To you, however, it seems, it is not unnecessary. But, how shall I excuse myself? By telling you, as I honestly may, that I neither meant, nor have said any thing that can be fairly interpreted to be an insult either on any individual of the order, or on the whole body of the Clergy, at large. Will this satisfy you, or will you still insist, that more was meant than met the eye? In this your rage for finding out hidden meanings, I cannot but be thankful you did not take it into your head that I was a Jesuit, a libertine, or an infidel: You had example on your side; for I remember a famous controversial writer, in the church of Rome, charged an eminent reformer with being a Mahometan.

The deceased Divine was my intimate friend a friend, Mr. Peregrinus, to whose excellent example I greatly owe it, that I am able to bear even your splenetic petulance with patience; and whose memory will be dear to me, till I too shall be, as he now is. In the overflowings of an affectionate heart, I published a faint transcript of his character, drawn up, indeed, with but little skill, but with the strictest regard to truth. This is the height and sum of my offending.

With all the imperfections of humanity in one's view, there is no misanthropy in asserting, so good a man, as Mr. Maury was, was a rara avis in terris; and, considering the numerous difficulties attending the execution of so important an office, of which every conscientious Clergyman is painfully sensible, there is neither sting nor venom, had I even said, as I have not, that so good a Clergyman is still more so. I appeal to the Clergy I appeal to every man, of but common sense, and common candour, who may have read the obnoxious paragraph, if any other than a jaundic'd eye could have seen either impertinence or impropriety, in closing so amiable a character, with an address to his brethren, of go, and do ye likewise. How then could you so maliciously torture a well-meant effusion of friendship, to draw from it an inference as absurd, as it is malignant, as invidious in the man, as it is contemptible in the critic? Was it that you felt yourself hurt by contrasting your own character with that of my deceased friend? Believe me, it would seem so.

On an occasion like this, it was indelicate and illiberal in you to cavil at all: But your sneer at the supposed obscurity of the deceased, is, peculiarly, ungenerous. He was as generally known, and by men too, whom it is an honour to be known to, as most men of his order: I will add too, what, perhaps, you may deem a fling, that he was not more generally known, than he was esteemed and admired. How certain gentry, of your acquaintance, whom yet you quaintly call Gentlemen of sense and dignity, can yet act so inconsistently, as you say they do, I leave it for logic like yours to prove. As a foreigner, however, were it not that you had pretty plainly told me, that you are above being advised by me, I would hint to you, that it would not be beneath you to be somewhat more certain as to the authenticity of your facts, before you venture, with such a spirit of modesty and indecision, again to pronounce on the character of a whole colony. The slander aimed at me affects but an individual: This concerns a multitude, and, if unjust, will, probably, be thought as insolent as the imaginary offence I have been arraigned for. And these are, I believe, in Virginia, many, who are not natives, who are of opinion that there are few countries where juster distinctions are made of characters; or where deserving Clergymen meet with more respect: of which one happy effect is, that there are, as you say, so many amiable and exemplary pastors in the church of Virginia.

A factious ill-judging friend is frequently more troublesome, and more hurtful too, than an avowed enemy. Thus, Sir, your preposterous zeal, and paltry vindication of a respectable order, unprovoked, and unattacked, is more truly an insult than any thing I have either said or meant, even had I said or meant all you peevishly imagined I did. I am amazed at your indiscretion. Was there no other way you could have found for the exercise of your puissant pen, but this unnecessary parade of a zeal for the Clergy: on whom, you should have foreseen, it was the readiest way you could have taken to bring contempt; by inspiring a belief that their guardians, conscious of their weakness, shudder at the most distant prospect of danger?

Yet, you have said, let it be confessed, some handsome things in their behalf undoubtedly, never so well said before. I only lament you should have been combating a phantom; and that so much good stuff should have been so needlessly thrown away. When the Clergy shall be formally attacked, as I trust they never will, then draw canis-like, step forth their champion. At present, if I mistake not, they will join me in whispering in your ear, non lali auxilio, nec istis defensoribus egent.

I am, &c.