Paris, July 9th, 1782.
My Dearest Brother,
Your letter was given to me last night, and since I have been
able to read I never felt so much agitated. I hastily send back
the messenger, but he carries with him a letter to Lord
Shelburne, in which I formally request my immediate recal.
My dear brother, you do not know my situation, or you would see
in the first instant, as you will so soon as I can speak to you,
that if I continued at Paris, I should be the meanest and most
contemptible wretch that was ever born into the world; I should
falsify my word, I should betray my honour, I should repay the
confidence that was reposed in me with the most cowardly
treachery, I should disgrace every feeling that is honourable
and respectable between man and man. I have no choice; my
immediate return is as much a duty and obligation upon me as can
in human society be laid upon one who would not renounce the
character of a gentleman. Judge, then, of the distressful
situation I must have been in at the time of decyphering your
last lines, and judge how sacred and indispensable those
circumstances must be, that do not give me even room to hesitate
in a difficulty of so much delicacy. I love you, my dearest
brother, with the truest and sincerest affection; my pride and
ambition are ten-fold more gratified in your situation of life
than in any that could be mine; nor, so help me God! do I think
there is an interest, an advantage, present or future, that I
would not gladly sacrifice for you, if it could add one step to
your greatness; but you love me too well not to shrink at the
thought of my disgracing myself, and a fouler disgrace there
could not be, than I should inevitably incur by staying at Paris
as Minister.
One part of my difficulty you see already; it is that I dare not
write even in cypher, what would save me all the embarrassment
of this letter, and you the uneasiness of its obscurity, till I
see you. My dear brother, reflect, if it is not too late, upon
the opinions we have held in common, upon the judgment we have
formed in common, of the rectitude and integrity of some men,
and the utter and absolute want of it in others. Recollect, if
it is possible, the uneasiness that you felt, the doubt that you
expressed and I made light of, in the very last conversations we
had together. Think over all that might have happened, and be
persuaded that all has; think over the most pleasing parts of
your last letter, and be persuaded that a few plain words,
whenever I see you, will make you blot it out with indignation.
But above all, I do conjure you, in the most solemn terms, to
guard against expressing the surmises this letter may suggest to
you, and to drop no word of suspicion or jealousy till I see
you. The caution of this letter--to which I dare not add a
cypher, however it must grieve me to speak to you in the
dark--every circumstance, must show you how deeply my honour,
how much more deeply than human wisdom could apprehend, my
honour is involved in this business.
One word more, though I think every minute an hour till the
messenger is gone. Trust me till you hear me; and above all, if
you are applied to persuade me to stay, do not think of so
doing; it may make the delay of one post, and that will hurt me;
it can do no more.
God Almighty bless you, my dearest brother; a warmer affection
no man can bear you. Think of all my impatience to see you, and
do not forget that in pressing my recal, you do me a more
essential and honourable service than you know. Once more, God
bless you, my dearest brother.
* * * * *
Before Lord Temple had received this letter he had declined the
secretaryship, and accepted the appointment of Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland, his brother, Mr. William Wyndham Grenville (afterwards Lord
Grenville) accompanying him as Chief Secretary. In the reply that
follows, Lord Temple expresses the profound sorrow he felt at his
brother's determination to resign, of which he was confessedly not in a
position to form a competent judgment.