The Virginia Gazette

From the LONDON CHRONICLE.

To JOHN WILKES, Esquire.

As you now stand like a Teetotum on the Top of the narrow Pinnacle
of Popularity, to which your late Conduct has advanced you, I
shall venture to make some cursory Observations on that Conduct, and
then judge whether you can continue an Equilibrium long in such a tot-
tering State. Before you commenced a periodical Essay you merely
filled up a Place in the House of Commons, "which might have been
better supplied when you had made it empty." Your Finances were
exhausted, and you ate a silent Representative in forma pauperis. Poverty
is far from being reproachable, but pitiable, unless where a Prodigal makes
Havoc of his Possessions by wicked Practices. No Notice being taken
of you, or Place nor Pension whispered in your Ear for your Voice,
Necessity made you violent. A discarded Party pricked you down as a
Desperado fit for their Purpose; you cheerfully set out upon the forlorn
Hope. They supplied you with Ammunition, and you made such un-
daunted Attacks with your Pen, that, had you so done in another King-
dom, you would have been rewarded by the Hand of the Executioner.

By this Means you became notorious. Fortune smiling on you (as she
too frequently does on the vicious) made Interest to have you taken into
Custody and committed to the Tower, from whence Privilege released you.
As you was apprehended upon a General Warrant, this set the Juncto
upon trying the Legality of that Warrant; which, being deemed illegal,
the Trump of Fame sounded it into every Corner of the Realm, and the
Streets echoed with Wilkes and Liberty. The like Circumstance might
have happened to a Shoeblack at that Juncture. The Illegality had been
previously considered, and now Opportunity presented to condemn it.

The imprudent Step of the Ministry in persecuting you made you thrive.
Oppression fed you; yet, fearing the Scourge of those Laws you seem to
revere, you fled your Country to avoid. After being abroad some Time
Friends dropped, Remittances ran slack, and at Length your Purse was
converted into a Museum for Spiders Curiosities. Under this Situation Half
a Mind made you fly, Neck or Nothing, over to England. The Party
tossed you again into the Tide of Popularity, which immediately drove you
into Guildhall, where you appeared as a Candidate to sit in Parliament for
the City of London; but this Don Quixote Step sobering many of the
Livery, and Prudence gaining Preeminence over their Passions, they denied
you. Away you drove by the same Torrent into Middlesex, where the
Freeholders, not enjoying quite so much Forecast as the Livery of London,
you was, vi et armis, elected. Fortune still had her Eye upon you; and
knowing you had no Capital to support the necessary Dignity, never rested
until she got you committed to the King's Bench. Here you shone, like
a Will of the Wisp in the Middle of a Morass. Multitudes, who thought
you was inaccessible, stood gazing for a View; some ventured to approach
you, and great Numbers, who were enchanted with the Sound of Wilkes
and Liberty, crowded you with Presents.

There are as many Enthusiasts in Politicks as in Religion. By the Means
of this Imprisonment you accumulated Wealth, and procured a genteel
Livelihood; and Lord Mansfield standing your Friend, by reversing the
Outlawry (otherwise you must have remained a Prisoner during Life) your
Neck became decorated with a Chain of Gold. These short Memoirs,
upon reading, appear more like Romance than known Truths. The
Game you now play is still to keep the Coals of Discord in a Blaze. It
is your personal Interest so to do, otherwise you must gradually drop into
Oblivion. If you should step again into the House of Commons, unless
the Phoenix hath been all this Time in hatching, and should then break
Shell, your Speeches will be taken no more Notice of than formerly.

You cannot do always pleasing; you must sometimes err. If myself, or
any other unexalted Man, commits an involuntary Error, the Offence
lies with the Sun; but a Mistake in you will be construed into a high
Crime, the Molehill will be magnified to a Mountain. Your preceding
Behaviour will then be looked upon with Indignation and Contempt; and
Hisses, instead of Huzzas, will usher you through the Streets. You will
then be reduced to a mere private Man, with the Reproaches (though
mildly unmerited) of a wicked Villain. There is no Mediocrity in elec-
torious Popularity; it will soon debase as exalt; daily Precedents give
Proofs of it. I wish well to all Mankind, but I am inclinable to think a
few Revolutions of Time may produce this due Catastrophe upon our mock
Patriot. Except the Epithet, as I know of no such Evidence as a real One.