LETTER I.
TRIUMPHS.

THE miniſterial writers, in one of thoſe pa⯑ragraphs with which they enrich the public papers^* are pleaſed, for the ſpecial entertainment of the good people of England, to tell them a curious piece of news. This intelligence is the more valuable, becauſe according to Lord Bacon's ex⯑preſſion, it comes home to our own buſineſs and boſoms.

Theſe gentlemen kindly inform us, ‘"that in the annals of the world, there is not to be found ſo extraordinary a nation as our's."’ ‘"We place (it ſeems,) our chief pleaſure in diſcontent, and by a retrograde propenſity of thinking, are never compleatly happy, without being compleatly miſerable."’

[2] The Miniſters have made a valuable diſcovery in the national character. It muſt be admitted to their honour, that none have ever more perfectly profited of their knowledge of mankind, or have laboured more ſucceſsfully to give entire ſatisfac⯑tion to their country. By continuing the ſame benevolent efforts a little longer, there is no doubt but that they will perfectly attain their end. The people of England are at length in a fair way of being compleatly happy, and happy in their own mode.

Obſervers have been for ſome time at a loſs to account for the conduct of Miniſtry. They were not able to enter into the cauſes of their ſupine neglects and untimely endeavours. They could not penetrate into the motives for their violent de⯑nunciations, and their feeble efforts; for their diſinclination to peace, and their inability for war; for their irritating America to reſiſtance, by the auſterity of their laws; and encouraging that re⯑ſiſtance, by the weakneſs of their military arange⯑ments. The whole is now explained. They were ſeeking for popularity; they were conforming themſelves to our retrograde propenſities; they were generouſly labouring for the felicity of a nation, which, as they have ſagaciouſly diſcovered, ‘"can never be compleatly happy, till they are rendered compleatly miſerable."’

[3] The benevolence of theſe good men even extends to their worſt enemies. They tell us in the ſame paragraph, ‘"that the modern Patriots ſhudder at the probability of ſucceſs in the management of public affairs, and brood with a ſavage de⯑light over the hopes of a national calamity."’

The modern Patriots are in truth as unreaſonable as they are repreſented to be factious, if they do not gratefully acknowledge the incredible pains that Miniſtry has taken to pleaſe them. They have engaged us in a war, after ſuch a Patriot's own heart. Envy and malignity would have beſpoke it. In this war the object, the conduct, the probability of ſucceſs, are all exactly alike.

We are ſtruggling, it ſeems, to obtain a revenue by force, which that very force muſt for ever diſable the Colonies from yielding. At the ſame time we are incurring expences, that no wealth in the ſubjugated Provinces, and no chearfulneſs in granting it, can ever defray.

The ſcene of the war is on the other ſide of the Atlantic ocean. There, we have no aſſiſtance, no alliance, not a ſingle friend. Thither we are to tranſport the flower of the Engliſh youth, con⯑ſigned to ſlaughter, diſeaſe, and famine. Every thing neceſſary to the ſupport of war, or to the ſuſtenance of life, even to the minuteſt articles of both, muſt be conveyed to the Britiſh troops from hence, at the expence of millions, and at the [4] mercy of winds and ſeas. The ſupply of great armies, even in the midſt of the moſt plentiful countries, and in the moſt commodious ſituations, is chargeable, difficult, and ſometimes precarious. What a work then muſt the ſubſiſtance of an army be, (I mean an army ſufficient to produce any effect,) in a country three thouſand miles diſtant from home? In a country where the proviſion for a ſingle day cannot be purchaſed? Every ſiniſter incident, every unfavourable event, muſt be re⯑paired, if it can at all be repaired, from the diſtance of 70 degrees of longitude; and the leaſt delay or misfortune attending the ſupply, puts an end to the operations of an whole campaign.

Whilſt the Miniſterial operations are clogged with theſe difficulties, the Americans are training and ^* hardening themſelves to war. The conti⯑nuance of the quarrel inures them to the ſtate of things into which they are fallen. They are in the midſt of their reſources. With whatever vain hopes Miniſters may flatter themſelves or attempt to delude their country, we may be aſ⯑ſured, that where recruits, proviſions, wood and iron, are furniſhed by the country, the reſt of the inſtruments of war are eaſily procured. No ſea⯑man will aſſert, that powder cannot be conveyed [5] to the Colonies from abroad. No naturaliſt will affirm, that it cannot be made by them at home.

This is the true ſtate of our affairs; this is the probability of ſucceſs, which it ſeems is to glorify adminiſtration, and to make patriots ſhudder.

Provided that no misfortune happens to the ar⯑my in America; provided no foreign power inter⯑feres to aſſiſt the Provincials; provided that the foreign powers in whom we truſt will certainly aſſiſt us:—With all theſe proviſos, it is poſſible, that this nation may, for one ſeaſon more,—juſt one more,—continue the expences of this deſpe⯑rate and ruinous conteſt.

In the mean time the miniſterial writers may manufacture paragraphs to amuſe the people of England; the Miniſters may ſend out more por⯑ter to keep up the ſpirits of the diſheartened troops at Boſton; the yet remaining wealth of England may be ſquandered in various ways, for the pur⯑poſe of hiding under lucrative contracts for war, the haſty declenſion of trade; they may buy, or beg, or cheat corporations into flattering addreſſes. All theſe are but poor and temporary devices, which may for a while veil from our eyes the real ſtate of our affairs, but are not of power to avert or ſoften the ſmalleſt part of the impending cala⯑mity. Inſenſibility of danger, and ſecurity from it, are very different things.

[6] The African trade has felt the blow already. The Weſt-India trade ſtaggers, and is doomed to fall the next. No trade can long ſtand the preſent unwiſe conteſt. The loſs of the Ameri⯑can commerce is a laſting evil; the ſubſtitute for it, in the fluſh which the Ruſſian peace and the Spaniſh armament have cauſed, is contingent, caſual, inadequate.

The miniſterial Manifeſto, from which I have quoted the above extraordinary paſſages, ſpeaks of it as of a circumſtance of aſtoniſhing abſurdity, ‘"that an Engliſhman ſhould look upon the TRIUMPH of the King's troops with regret."’ Engliſhmen will tell Miniſters what they think of ſuch a triumph, when they have the fortune to ſee it. As yet that triumph has not been cauſe of joy or ſorrow to any man alive.

Do theſe men mock at our diſtreſs? Do they really think that the precipitous retreat of the King's troops from Lexington, was a triumph? Do they think that the action at Bunker's-hill, where at the expence of more than half the num⯑ber that fought, theſe troops purchaſed a ſmall enlargement of their burial ground, was a tri⯑umph? Do they imagine that it is a triumph of theſe poor half-ſtarved troops, to have ſuffered from the day of that action, as indeed they had [7] long before, as cloſe a blockade as any garriſon can ſuffer in a place that is open to the ſea?

If theſe be the triumphs of the King's forces, every public ſpirited, every humane and honeſt mind, beholds them with the deepeſt ſorrow and regret. There is no man worthy of bearing the name of Engliſhman, who does not ſee with grief the miſerable and diſgraceful ſituation of the braveſt troops, and the beſt commanders in the world. That man muſt be very indifferent to the glory of his country, who does not ſee and feel too, for the condition into which both have been brought, by the moſt unexampled imbecility and raſhneſs; a condition which originating from plans laid in groſs miſinformation and fundamental error, no courage in the troops, and no ſkill in the commanders, can poſſibly improve.

Here, for the preſent, I am obliged to leave the troops and the triumph. ^* I now turn to the gentle⯑men who fight, under much more comfortable cir⯑cumſtances, the battles of the Miniſtry in England. It is not only in the paragraph I quote, that they preſume to inſult thoſe who differ from them in politics, by charging them with a delight in the national calamities. It is the conſtant language of theſe writers. If any man has ſhewn a diſpo⯑ſition [8] to ſuch an unnatural delight, whether he be a Miniſter or a Patriot, the community muſt think ſuch men deſerving of a ſeverer cenſure, than any which the pens of ſuch writers ſeem capable of inflicting.

There are ſome indeed, who, if they do not delight in the national diſtreſſes, ſeem at leaſt not to entertain a proper horror of them. Theſe are they, who, in all political diſputes, are the con⯑ſtant favourers of violent meaſures; who are continually urging the people to war, and under the notion of meanneſs and puſillanimity, decry⯑ing every idea of peace and reconciliation.

Theſe gentlemen may indeed feel ſome morti⯑fication, not from generous ſympathy, but from diſappointed pride, when the natural, however by them unexpected, iſſue of their meaſures, is ſtrongly marked in circumſtances of public cala⯑mity. But theſe gentlemen ought to take care how they miſtake in others for exultation at the national misfortunes, thoſe emotions of ſcorn and indignation, which all men of ſenſibility muſt diſ⯑cover at the infatuated councils from whence our public misfortunes are derived.

LETTER II.
ADDRESSES.

THE manner in which adminiſtration is em⯑ployed, appears rather extraordinary in the preſent circumſtances of the nation. That pe⯑riod, once ſo awful; that day of account, once ſo terrible to ſtateſmen, the meeting of Parliament, is at hand. It might be imagined, that at ſuch a time, Miniſtry were exceedingly buſy in fabri⯑cating, for the ſatisfaction of the two Houſes, what they have hitherto thought proper to with⯑hold from the public,—ſome ſort of apology for the total failure of all their projects.

It might be ſuppoſed they were continually oc⯑cupied in a careful and detailed review of their former meaſures; that by ſuch a review they might diſcover to what miſtake in the plan, or to what weakneſs in the execution, we were to aſcribe the preſent calamitous ſituation of our [10] affairs. One would think they were, at length, bending their attention on ſome ſcheme for preventing, if poſſible, the final diſmember⯑ment of the empire. Inſtead of this, they are wholly occupied in the manufacture of addreſſes.

To common obſervers this ſeems to be an odd entertainment for men in their condition. If in⯑deed addreſſes to Miniſters could inſure victories to armies; if railing at enemies could repair de⯑feats; if flattery could cover diſgraces; if ſervi⯑lity could give plenty to famine, health to diſeaſes, and cure to wounds, nothing could be more pro⯑perly applied to the exigencies of Miniſters, and to the neceſſities of thoſe who have the misfor⯑tune to bear arms in their ſupport. If addreſſes had this virtue, theſe courtly performances would certainly merit all the care and expence which has been ſo profuſely laviſhed in obtaining them.

Although I think this proceeding of Miniſtry in many reſpects weak and trifling, yet I confeſs that nothing, no not an addreſs exiſts in vain. The managers are able to perceive, among the firſt ef⯑fects of this hopeful war (into which they have betrayed their country) an immenſe, an immediate increaſe of the public burthens. They ſee at length, and they ſee only, becauſe they are forced to feel, that they have drawn up the ſluices of an expence, which will not be in their power to let down at pleaſure. They perſevere in their mea⯑ſures, [11] becauſe they wiſh to continue in their places. They know that the meaſures, ne⯑ceſſary to their opulence, muſt end in the beg⯑gary of their country. When the purſe and pa⯑tience of the people are exhauſted by the accu⯑mulated charges of an unnatural and diſgraceful war, it is then that the preſent manoeuvres are to take their effect. The Miniſtry will put the peo⯑ple in mind, that they ſuffer at their own ſpecial re⯑queſt. They will point to their addreſſes, and tell them ‘"TAXATION IS NO TYRANNY."’

In one part of their project, there is no doubt the Miniſtry will ſucceed. They will get addreſſes enough. None have ever miſſed who have ever ſought them. All the little agitators in boroughs will eaſily perſuade men of much vanity, and no reflection, that their names to an addreſs gives them a conſequence at Court. The little, cun⯑ning, buſtling politicians, in a corporation, think they may with great ſafety exert themſelves to oblige a particular friend, that knows who and who are together, and that, when he pleaſes, may ſee thoſe who ſee the King. If things go well, they may plead merit; if ill, they are loſt in the crowd, and protected by their obſcurity. One of theſe ſnug Machiavels will reaſon thus:—‘"We are in for it. If the Miniſter chuſes a war, he will go to war, whether we will or not. If the taxes go on, little places, and little jobs as [12] well as great ones, will increaſe. We too, if we play our cards well, may come in for ſnacks; whilſt the whole burthen of the war, without any alleviation, will fall on the grumblers."’

The little politician at the Town Hall is not al⯑together miſtaken. If his principal happens to think of him, after the purpoſe is ſerved, he may be paid for his work; but the little politician at the Cockpit will find himſelf miſerably deluded. When the national debt and national taxes begin to ſwell; when trade ſinks under its oppreſſions; when Europe begins to be involved; and the civil becomes but an introduction to a general war, the Miniſter, whoever he is, will find that thoſe who are willing to flatter, are not able to protect him. Thoſe who are ſo ready to adviſe him to plunge his country into a war, will not be in a capacity to furniſh him with the means of carrying on that war, nor with the expedient for extricating him⯑ſelf out of it.

I believe there are very few of theſe ſigners, or even of the original promoters of theſe addreſſes, who have once given themſelves the trouble to enquire, whether this war, of which they are ſo enamoured, be abſolutely neceſſary? To aſk themſelves, how it is to be ſupported? To conſi⯑der, what end it is to anſwer, if ſucceſsful? Or to reflect, if it be unſucceſsful, what remedy is to be found in ſo dreadful a diſaſter?

[13] One circumſtance methinks ought to make theſe gentlemen who halloo, or who are hallooed to war, a little cautious how they dip their hands in blood. The Miniſters have ſet out in their war with an avowed confeſſion, that they are not able to carry it on with the ſtrength of this country. They are at this inſtant ſuppliant at every Court in Europe. There is not a country in which want and ſervi⯑tude have turned the lives of the ſubject into an object of traffick to the Prince, in which Miniſtry are not mortgaging the revenue of England, and plighting the faith of future Parliaments. It is to HANOVERIAN, to HESSIAN, to RUSSIAN Arms, that England is to owe the recovery, and the pre⯑ſervation of our authority in America.

Such arms are, I admit, the natural inſtru⯑ments for the eſtabliſhment of arbitrary power. But the addreſſers of ſuch meaſures would do well to aſk themſelves, to whom that arbitrary power is to belong, if foreign force ſhould prove ſucceſs⯑ful? To thoſe, by whom conqueſts are made, the benefits of conqueſts will belong. But I ab⯑hor the idea—Heaven forbid that ſlaves ſhould ever become the maſters of freemen; or that Ruſſian ferocity ſhould triumph over Engliſh va⯑lour in any part of the world.

The Miniſtry, though they are compleatly diſ⯑graced in their principles, for the attempt to ter⯑minate [14] Britiſh diſputes by foreign arms, may be further diſgraced by their policy, by their failure in that enterpriſe. They have not yet been able to gratify their addreſſers with any certain aſſurance that they ſhall be permitted to tranſport over the Atlantic ocean 20,000 Calmucks and Coſſacks, to lay waſte with fire and ſword the habitations of Engliſhmen, and to turn one of the faireſt part of the Britiſh dominions into one of their Tarta⯑rian deſarts.^*

Whoever adviſes others to war, ought not only to be perſuaded that the war is juſt, but he ought to have a reaſonable aſſurance, that thoſe to whom he applies himſelf, are of ability to carry it on with ſucceſs. Otherwiſe he is not only ſacrificing the intereſt of his country, but he is diſgracing and ruining the cauſe of juſtice itſelf. Of the abi⯑lity of the Miniſters for this great taſk, the ad⯑dreſſers may have ſome private knowledge to which they truſt. But I muſt ſay their friends in power have not yet been pleaſed to favour the public, whoſe approbation they court, with any means of doing their capacity the honour that [15] perhaps it deſerves. Nothing has ſucceeded with them, either in their civil proviſions, or in their military arrangements.

They have made a great number of acts of parliament, ^† which has left the ſtate of govern⯑ment in a thouſand times a worſe condition than they found it. They followed their acts of par⯑liament with above twenty of the beſt regiments in the ſervice; with almoſt the whole of the ma⯑rines; with ſuch a ſtrength of artillery and artil⯑lery companies, as were never employed when we made war with France in America. To give ef⯑fect to this force, they have ſent no leſs than four Generals. To the great land force, they have added a great naval power. The reſult of all theſe immenſe military arrangements has been, that the Miniſters have one town in America—for their armies to ſtarve and die in.—This is the faithful abſtract of the firſt year's hiſtory, of our new ſocial war.

Theſe are plain matters of fact. An honeſt man, who ſees no more than I can ſee of the probability of ſucceſs in the courſe which has been hitherto purſued, would therefore have his ſcruples about urging the ſame men to proceed in the ſame courſe, [16] which has been hitherto ſo very unproſperous. Have theſe flatterers any ground for confidence, that the future proceedings of Miniſters will be more fortunate than the paſt? If they have, it will be kind of them to open it a little to their expect⯑ing country. One circumſtance of incapacity in theſe Miniſters is clear beyond all diſpute, they have known nothing of the difficulty of the buſi⯑neſs they were engaged in. As the difficulty was not known, it could not be provided for. In conſequence of this ignorance of the real ſtate of America, all the force that has hitherto been ſent thither is loſt. We have all to begin anew, as if nothing had been attempted. England, under their conduct, exhauſted before ſhe has acted, is obliged to reſt all her hopes on the capricious al⯑liance of a deſpotic Court, and the perilous aſſiſt⯑ance of barbarian mercenary forces.

It is for this aſſiſtance, and for theſe forces, that ſome deluded people are perſuaded to addreſs. Our misfortunes are aggravated by a mortiſying mixture of the ridiculous. We have been brought it ſeems into this diſgraceful ſituation of foreign dependance, in order to maintain the honour and dignity of Great Britain.

Upon this topic of our dignity, I may ſay ſomething hereafter. For the preſent, I would ſeriouſly recommend it to my countrymen, to con⯑ſider [17] (what never has been conſidered for them) the difficulties of their proceeding in the courſe they have begun, and at the ſame time the facility which appears for getting out of them.

The way before us, if we purſue the preſent courſe, grows every ſtep more and more perplexed. The point at which we propoſe to reſt, recedes further and further from our view. The way, if we change our route, is ſhort and ſimple. The ſingle condition of peace propoſed by America is, ‘"That we ſhould put things on the footing they ſtood in 1762."’ This is the propoſition of the Con⯑greſs; and this ſurely is no harſh, cruel, or humi⯑liating injunction. We are deſired to put our⯑ſelves, and our colonies, into that ſtate, in which, from our happy union, we were the envy of the world. But the firſt terms propoſed, are not the laſt concluſive ones; better may be obtained by treaty; all may be loſt by violence.

Have we then any rational ground of hope, that by an obſtinate war unſkilfully carried on, we ſhall be able to force from America more ad⯑vantageous terms of peace, than ſhe offers at this moment? Before any man ſets his hand to an ad⯑dreſs, he ought to have a ſatisfactory anſwer to the queſtion I have put. To abuſe America, and to talk of dignity, is not an anſwer.

LETTER III.
DIGNITY.

IN this letter I intend to apply myſelf princi⯑pally to thoſe of my countrymen, who are commonly diſtinguiſhed by the name of the Tory Party.

There are many things in the doctrine and practice of that body, which I never could per⯑fectly approve. A party whoſe diſtinguiſhing characteriſtic is a deſire of exalting the pre⯑rogative of the Crown, ought never to take the lead in a government conſtituted like ours. But though I could not reliſh the doctrines of this po⯑litical ſet, I did not of courſe condemn the inten⯑tions of all who held them. I did not, I confeſs, think the Tory party entirely well affected to the conſtitution. Their own favourite phraſe, ‘"The old conſtitution,"’ which was, and is continually in [19] their mouths, ſeems to imply an invidious diſ⯑tinction; and to intimate a diſlike to the conſtitu⯑tion, as perfected, or if they pleaſe, new model⯑led at the Revolution. But whatever their opi⯑nions of the conſtitution might be, I thought them zealous, according to their ideas, for the intereſt and honour of their country. In all things which diſtinguiſh this iſland from any other nation, the excluſive and patriotic partiality of their affections has conſtantly broke out, and ſometimes not in the moſt decent and orderly manner that could be wiſhed.

It always appeared to me a circumſtance rather ſingular, that they whoſe principles were ſo much of foreign growth, ſhould far out go the Whigs themſelves in the abhorrence of foreigners. The great bleſſing derived from the Revolution, could not make them forget that King William was a Dutchman. They did not readily forgive even the founders of the fortune and greatneſs of his preſent Majeſty, that they were born in Ha⯑nover, and were ſuppoſed to entertain ſentiments of partial regard to their native country.

In the principle of all this, though ſometimes car⯑ried too far, and ſometimes miſapplied, there was ſomething reſpectable. I remember perfectly well, that when the Heſſian troops were brought hither in the laſt reign, this party complained very loudly. [20] The imminent invaſion of England at that time, did not reconcile them to the meaſure of committing any part, even of our moſt neceſſary defence, to fo⯑reign forces. Thoſe foreign troops who were brought over for the purpoſe of quieting the trou⯑bles in Scotland (for I mean to ſpeak gently) in the year 1745, did not meet from that party a more fa⯑vourable reception. Their unaffected dread of the prevalence of the Houſe of Stuart in that criti⯑cal conteſt, could not make them permit a mo⯑mentary departure from their ancient maxims. Their preſervation from the greateſt of all cala⯑maties, a ſubjection to an irritated, a revengeful, a bigotted, even a foreign maſter, a maſter who founded his right upon the ſuppoſed nullity of every right in his ſubjects, could not excuſe this obnoxious mode of ſafety.

It was in vain alledged in mitigation of that meaſure, that the national troops were engaged abroad, that we had no time to get together, and to diſcipline a body of Engliſh; that our foreign enemies had interfered, that ſome forces in the French ſervice were actually in Scotland; and the arrival of more was daily apprehended. This was all urged to inattentive ears. The Tories ſtill ex⯑claimed, that the troops of our allies brought hi⯑ther on that occaſion were foreigners; and no⯑thing but the conſideration that a late capitulation [21] had bound them not to be of any uſe, could in⯑duce the Tory party to bear the preſence of ſuch gueſts, with any reaſonable patience.

Sudden emergencies may make the departure from the moſt wiſe and ſettled principles juſtifia⯑ble by the evident neceſſity of the caſe. But cer⯑tainly, the general principle of keeping foreign powers from interfering in national diſputes, is founded in the trueſt wiſdom, and ſoundeſt po⯑licy. There is not only, no dignity, but no ſafety in a different conduct. I was therefore a good deal ſurpriſed, when I found ſo many of the Tories not only tolerating, but rejoicing in the attempts made by Miniſters for engaging large bodies of foreigners to act in the preſent civil war. To what are we to attribute this extraor⯑dinary change, which that party has made in the only part of their ſentiments, in which they were perfectly juſtifiable? Inſtead of murmurs, com⯑plaints, and remonſtrances, we ſee the perſons moſt warm in that cauſe, almoſt every where ac⯑tive, and buſtling to procure addreſſes of com⯑pliment, in order to give the Miniſters all kind of credit and ſupport in their negociations for fo⯑reign troops.

In all this I ſee no ſort of attention to the ho⯑nour of this country. The firſt principle of dig⯑nity is independence. A government in profound [22] peace with all its neighbours, which is not able, without external aſſiſtance, to enforce obedience from its own ſubjects, is in effect annihilated. The powers on whom ſuch a phantom of autho⯑rity depends, are the true and real government. The other is only a vaſſal. If we cannot govern it but by the forces of Ruſſia and Hanover, Hanover and Ruſſia are not only the Rulers of America, but they are the Maſters of England.

There muſt be ſome extraordinary weakneſs in Adminiſtration, ſome diſinclination to the ſer⯑vice in the groſs of the people, ſomething unu⯑ſually colourable in the reſiſtance, that at the very outſet of the quarrel, has diſabled the ſtrongeſt power in the world. Our Miniſters ſtumble at the threſhold; they are out of wind before they have run the firſt heat. The firſt year of this war in America, they implore foreign nations to bring them out of that ſtruggle, which, a little while ago, they told us might be ended by a very few of the ſuperfluous regiments, which a prodi⯑gal peace eſtabliſhment wantonly kept up for pa⯑rade and ſhew—Such is the dignity of England in the hands of its preſent truſtees!

If we cannot end our own quarrels by our own wiſdom, or our own power, they will never be ended. Foreigners very rarely, if ever, interfere [23] with cordial purpoſes to the benefit of the party which calls them in. It will be their buſineſs, like lawyers, to prolong the ſuit, in order to ex⯑hauſt the litigants.

Whilſt the quarrel continues, foreign powers know that you muſt comply with every demand, and ſubmit to every inſult. The old enemies of the kingdom will be ſure to fan the flames of diſſention. The very beſt affected of the foreign Courts will make themſelves neceſſary as long as they can. They will aſſiſt you juſt enough to continue the diſpute, but not to end it; becauſe that diſpute, and their ſuperiority, muſt have ex⯑actly the ſame duration.

Rather than conſent to be thus at the mercy of foreigners, Dignity, if ſhe would condeſcend to take common-ſenſe into her councils, would think, that the cruel alternative propoſed by the American Congreſs, ‘"of returning to the ſitua⯑tion in which we ſtood in 1762,"’ ought to be ac⯑cepted. If Engliſh Dignity is to be compro⯑miſed, I had rather ſettle amicably with Ame⯑rica, than be obliged to too polite a ſubmiſſion to the Houſe of Bourbon. I ſhould conſent ra⯑ther to bear the Roughneſs of Engliſh Liberty, than ſubject myſelf to foreign Pride, and barba⯑rian Inſolence. I had rather ſhake Hancock and [24] Adams by the hand, than cool my heels in the antichamber of Orloff and Potemkin.^*

LETTER IV.
THE CAMPAIGN.

THE proper anſwer to an addreſs for war, is a tax. There can be no doubt, but that ſuch an anſwer will be returned fairly and ſpeedily, and without a ſhadow of equivocation. In this point at leaſt, the Miniſters are capable of giving perfect ſatisfaction to their admirers. To exhauſt the ſinking fund,—to accumulate debt,—to raiſe the land tax,—to put an additional duty on malt, and on malt liquors,—and to revive the home exciſe upon cyder,—theſe are things within the power of the moſt common financier. The ways of taking the public money, or of ſpend⯑ing it when taken, are tolerably obvious. There is nothing required for theſe purpoſes, but pa⯑tience on the part of the people. And Admini⯑ſtration has had, for ſome time paſt, comfort⯑able [26] aſſurances, that the good people of Eng⯑land poſſeſs a ſufficient ſhare of that ſteady and uſeful, though not very ſhining virtue.

The Addreſſers, with an honeſt eagerneſs and anxiety, aſk for war, and they offer their for⯑tunes. They need be under no ſort of uneaſi⯑neſs. The one will be given, and the other will be taken; and as far as I can diſcover from the courtly language of the Gazette, this is what is deſired, and all that is deſired, in the many dutiful and loyal addreſſes with which that inſtructive paper has lately ſwelled ſo much beyond its uſual dimenſions.

In former times, when the evil habits of fac⯑tion had rendered men importunate and difficult, a little more than this would have been looked for. People would have been deſirous of ſome account of the ends and purpoſes for which the public money had been expended; of the man⯑ner in which the war had been conducted; of the future proſpect of ſucceſs from the arrange⯑ments already made, or which were in apparent forwardneſs. If they received no ſatisfaction in theſe points, war would, in thoſe times, have been thought very little more deſirable than peace. Succeſs, victory, glory, national reputation, na⯑tional power, were the circumſtances that for⯑merly made war, and the train of war tolerable [27] to a nation. The probability of a favourable event, and the beneficial conſequences of victory, when attained, were always more or leſs in con⯑templation. At preſent the faſhionable taſte ſeems to be, for efforts without vigour, expence without return, preparation without action, and war with⯑out an object.

I will not ſay, whether I have been well or ill employed; but abounding in leiſure, as you will eaſily believe, I have read over all the public per⯑formances of the friends of Miniſtry. Not one, I imagine, has eſcaped me. The coffee houſe I frequent is well ſupplied with the papers. The papers are no leſs liberally ſupplied with politi⯑cal eſſays and paragraphs on the miniſterial ſide of the queſtion. At no time have Miniſters more carefully attended to this mode of commu⯑nication with the public; and they have ſpared no expence nor trouble to engage diligent and induſtrious writers in their cauſe.

One circumſtance has ſtruck me as very ſingu⯑lar. In all the courſe of this extenſive and va⯑rious reading, I never once obſerved a letter, or even one ſingle paragraph, ſo much as inſinuating, that ‘"the war with America had been hitherto conducted with common ſenſe."’ If my recol⯑lection has failed me, ſome perſon of more reten⯑tive [28] memory or more accurate obſervation will be ſo good as to ſupply my defects.

Notwithſtanding this trifling omiſſion, the Miniſters, I muſt admit, have not been wholly wanting to themſelves. They have carried on a notable war with the Mile-End Aſſembly. They have fought a very ſtrenuous battle with Mr. Maſ⯑call. In my opinion, they have gained a com⯑pleat victory over him. They have laid Mr. Joel on his back. Atkinſon Buſh muſt be a bold man if he ventures to ſhew his face—For all theſe advantages, I give them full credit. But ſtill the proſcribed Hancock ſits at the head of The United Colonies; and Putnam the carpenter, be⯑ſieges and ſtarves twelve thouſand Britiſh troops with four of the beſt Engliſh Generals at their head.^*

I have concealed nothing which has happened in favour of our great ſtateſman. The above is a ſhort but fair and impartial account of the advantages obtained, and the loſſes ſuffered by the miniſterial arms of all ſorts, at home and abroad, during the glorious campaign of 1775.

[29] At what a price all this glory has been ac⯑quired we ſhall not immediately know, though our inquiſitive Parliament is ſo ſhortly to meet. Some part of the burthen we ſhall feel very ſoon. But the whole charge certainly will not be then diſplayed; leſt it ſhould throw ſome damp on the ſpirit of addreſſing, which at preſent ſeems the grand reſource of the nation. There will un⯑doubtedly be a large and conſtant demand on this fund of national politeneſs; and it will as largely and conſtantly anſwer the drafts at ſight. Whatever may become of others, there is no danger that this Bank ſhould ever be obliged to ſtop payment.

The vein of addreſſing, in a ſituation like the preſent, is a phaenomenon rather unuſual in the political world, though in the moral it is highly commendable. The compliments paid to defeat and misfortune, are the effect of true genero⯑ſity. If the thing went no further, all might be well. But it grows ſerious when a compliment conveys a truſt. To this hour the want of ſuc⯑ceſs was always deemed a preſumption of the want of wiſdom. It went beyond a preſumption, [30] if the ill ſucceſs had attended upon great forces. Men grew out of humour, and became unwilling to commit their lives and fortunes to the care of thoſe in whoſe hands they found that nothing proſpered.

If they thought a war eligible, this became a ſtrong motive againſt confiding to the unfortu⯑nate, in that preciſe ſituation, in which of all others Fortune has the greateſt ſhare. They would not ſay, ‘"we ought to go to war with America, therefore, make a complimentary ad⯑dreſs to thoſe who have loſt that country. We ought to uſe force; therefore ſupport thoſe under whoſe direction power has ſunk into impotence."’

The period for theſe congratulatory addreſſes, and this ſolemn approbation of miniſterial con⯑duct is well choſen, and ſtrongly marked. It ſurely deſerves to be as much diſtinguiſhed as an Aera in the Chronicles of Great Britain, as any event that has happened ſince the foundation of this monarchy. The Aera of THE EVA⯑CUATION OF BOSTON. The compli⯑ments arrive preciſely in the great important mo⯑ment [31] when the Britiſh troops are compelled to quit the laſt Britiſh town in America. From this period we are, I ſuppoſe, to begin the reckoning of a new golden age of commerce, liberty, and empire.

LETTER V.
OBJECT OF THE WAR.

I Remember Mr. Hume ſomewhere in his hiſtory obſerves, that amidſt all the calamities of the great civil war between Charles the Firſt and his people, the Engliſh enjoyed this ſingular good fortune, that no foreign nation interfered in their quarrels.

Mr. Hume is in the right. The circumſtance was fortunate; and I am afraid it will continue to be ſingular. The preſent melancholy civil war is of another kind, and is to be carried on, as it was begun, upon very different principles. It is a war in which, as foreigners have the ſole intereſt, none but foreigners will finally decide. In the great civil war between Charles the Firſt and the national Repreſentative, both parties had in view ſuch an object as uſually paſſes for ra⯑tional. [33] Had Charles the Firſt actually ſubdued his Parliament, he might poſſibly have levied taxes without the conſent of thoſe who were to pay them. He would then have been to England, what England claims to be to America, the ſole virtual Repreſentative of his people. Their con⯑ſent would have been involved in his will. To reſiſt would be to rebel. So far the politics of Charles the Firſt and ours go on together; but there is a ſlight circumſtance in which they differ.

If he had carried his point, his power would have led to profit. The kingdom which he would have reduced, lay under his eye; and all its concerns were within his graſp. By a common revenue eſtabliſhment, and a moderate ſtanding army, there was no doubt but that he might eaſily have drawn into his own coffers, as much of the property of his ſubjects as would have ſupported that eſtabliſhment, and paid that army; and left a ſurplus beſides, for the purpoſes of avarice, ambition, or diſſipation. The nation had the ſame intereſt to defend, which the King had to attack. Here was a war that had an ob⯑ject. Prince and people ſtrongly intereſted, they wanted no intervention of foreigners to decide their quarrel.

[34] But if Charles the Firſt had involved himſelf in all his difficulties, in order to tax, without their conſent, a people who were 3000 miles by ſea diſtant from him—if the people at that diſtance were ſcattered over a Wilderneſs, 1700 miles in length, and 500 in breadth—if their extended ſea coſt was pervious by a thouſand havens, bays and creeks to every fraud, and every elu⯑ſion of duties—if theſe duties, by the beſt col⯑lection, far from being able to ſupport a vaſt ſtanding army, a powerful navy, and numerous fortifications, would conſeſſedly not ſuffice for the maintenance of a tenth part of a competent Revenue eſtabliſhment—if ſuch had been the at⯑tempts of Charles the Firſt, nothing but the con⯑ſideration of his inſanity could have drawn the leaſt degree of pity upon his misfortunes. The great ſubject of curioſity would be, how he came to find any abettors in ſo frantic an attempt. It would have been but natural for him to ſeek his inſtruments in every country but his own; as thoſe people would be the moſt fit to fight his battles who were the leaſt acquainted with his cauſe.

Charles, beſides the obvious lucrative advan⯑tage which he poſſeſſed, had another apology for his arbitrary undertakings; and Mr. Hume is too ſkilful an advocate to let it paſs. His peo⯑ple [35] were far from liberal in their ſupplies. They frequently even refuſed any ſubſidy to his greateſt wants. What an aggravation would it have been of his miſconduct, if all the world had known, and if he himſelf had confeſſed on re⯑cord, that the grants of his people had outgone his requiſitions, and that their ſupplies, while vo⯑luntary, had far exceeded their abilities? Join then together the two ſuppoſitions which I have made, and let every candid man form a judg⯑ment on the wiſdom of that ſovereign power (call it King or Parliament, or by what name you pleaſe) which could wage a deſtructive war for an object of taxation impoſſible to be attained, in order to avoid having recourſe to a quiet mode of application which had never failed.

It is in our power obſtinately to ſhut our eyes to the genuine appearances of things. If we pleaſe, we may ſtop our ears againſt reaſon; or we may prevent the voice of truth from being heard, by the din of our own paſſionate talk⯑ing. But ſtill reaſon and truth will one way or other have their operation; and though not ſeen or heard, they will cauſe themſelves to be felt. They are at this minute in full energy; and are now, though not ſo ſenſibly in the mode as in the effects, acting with irreſiſtible power. While Parliament votes, and Corporations ad⯑dreſs, [36] a general torpor and deadneſs have be⯑numbed the whole community. The ſtate is paralytic. We have nothing left alive, but that miſerable and feeble voice, with which we ſue for compaſſion to the enemies of our former greatneſs, and call upon foreign nations to ob⯑tain for us ſome ſort of authority among our own people.

England feels ſhe has no intereſt in this quar⯑rel. The army cannot be recruited to any to⯑lerable degree of ſtrength, much leſs to a force adequate to the neceſſities of the preſent bloody ſervice. It is becauſe the yet uncorrupted body of the people of England are brave and generous, that they do not chuſe to ſhed their blood in this quarrel. All the ink that has been, or ever can be ſhed in addreſſes, will not perſuade them to join with German vaſſals and Ruſſian ſlaves, in exterminating the little remnant of freedom which ſtill continues to bleſs the world.

Unſupported by Engliſh arms, the Miniſters fly to Scotland. The gallant and ſagacious peo⯑ple of that country, worthy to be for ever, in ſentiments as in government, one with Eng⯑land, have declined to employ their valour for the deſtruction of their ſole aſylum from deſpo⯑tiſm and opprſſioen. They will not chuſe to paſs from praedial to military ſervitude. They [37] will not ſuffer themſelves to be turned into mer⯑chandize, for the profit of thoſe men who are bartering for lucrative places and for regiments, the lives that are not yet ſacrificed to their ava⯑rice as landlords.^* The Scotch are indeed going to America; but they are going as ſettlers, not as ſoldiers. An illegal order has been iſſued to compel them by force to continue in the houſe of bondage, and to keep them from taſting the fertility and freedom of America.

The application to Ireland has been as unſuc⯑ceſsful as it was indecent. Did they imagine that generous people to be ſuch an herd of blun⯑derers, as to ſpill their blood, in order to enable Miniſters to tax, without their conſent, all the countries ſubject to this crown? The Iriſh Ro⯑man Catholics feel as the Proteſtants do. They alſo know America as an Aſylum. None but a very few vagabonds have been captivated by the half guinea liberality of the Earl of Ken⯑more, or the military rhetoric of Major Boyle Roche.

Engliſh, Scotch, Iriſh, failing; Canada, French and Popiſh, has been applied to as the laſt re⯑ſource among Britiſh ſubjects. Canada, French and Popiſh, have refuſed. Laws have been ſuſ⯑pended, and military deſpotiſm proclaimed in [38] The Canadians have heard the ſound of liberty.

The Miniſtry thus diſowned, not in words but in practice by every old and every new ſubject of this empire, are obliged to go about begging at the door of every petty Court and every venal State of Germany. They have proſtrated Eng⯑liſh dignity before Ruſſian deſpotiſm. They are ſatisfied to ſneak like ſervile Gentlemen Uſhers before the State of the French Ambaſſador; while all Europe looks with deriſion at their aukward, ſecond-hand airs, and their imitated grimaces of exotic complaiſance. They ſtoop their ſtiff backs, to kiſs the baffled hands of Spain. Our heroic Miniſters tremble before the fugitives from Algiers. Sir Joſeph Yorke, under their direc⯑tion, is employed in a manner that is certainly odious to ſo liberal a mind as his; and, indeed, muſt be ſo to any man who has ſerved his coun⯑try in better times. He is alert and active, and watches day and night. But he watches, not the Councils, but the Ports of Holland. He is obliged to thruſt his noſe into the hatchway of every Dutch Dogger, and to rummage and croſs examine every paltry Package. The Ambaſſador Extraordinary of England is ſunk into an atten⯑tive Tidewaiter. But all this expence of honour has purchaſed ſcarce any ſort of advantage. Their [39] negociations and their ſearches have been as un⯑ſucceſsful and as impotent as their arms. All they can as yet do, is to deliver over Gibraltar and Minorca to Hanoverians. But though they have failed in procuring other nations to deſtroy our Colonies, our Colonies may imitate their ex⯑ample in calling ^* in foreign aid; and as with [40] a more decent excuſe, ſo in all human probabi⯑lity with better ſucceſs.

In this unparalelled ſtate of diſtreſs and de⯑gradation of their country, the Miniſters are not without their comforts. They hold their places; they enjoy their ſalaries; they receive their ad⯑dreſſes. At preſent they are in high ſpirits. They are perſuaded, that their pay and diſgrace may be continued a year longer. They will again hold out deluſive ideas of peace upon terms which they know are not admiſſible, truſting that the deceit of the ſeſſion will hold out until the re⯑ceſs; as to the reſt, they tell us that all is now perfectly right; that the Savages of the deſart have undertaken the government of the Britiſh Colonies. They inform us that they intend to change their mode of making war. They have it ſeems, by ſome means or other, at length found out, that to be beſieged is not the way to con⯑quer. They propoſe to ravage what they are not capable of governing; and abandoning all idea of being conquerors and legiſlators, they are in hopes of becoming ſucceſsful Pirates.

LETTER VI.
THE PLOT.

ON Monday the 23d of October, 1775, in the morning, Mr. Sayre, Banker, in Ox⯑ford Road, was ſeized by King's Meſſengers, upon an accuſation of nothing leſs than an hor⯑rid and deteſtable enterprize againſt the perſonal Liberty of our Sovereign. In the evening of that day he was committed to the Tower, by a war⯑rant for treaſonable practices. On the 24th the London Gazette announced to the world, that he was committed for High Treaſon. On the 25th all his friends, and even his counſel, were refuſed admittance to him. On the 27th he was carried before Lord Mansfield;—and without the leaſt heſitation, doubt, or delay, he was ad⯑mitted to bail, upon [...]50l. for each of his two ſecurities, and 500l. for himſelf.

[42] This is an exact, though ſhort chronological Hiſtory of the Banker's Plot, one of the grand events, which, amidſt the ſplendor of ſo many illuſtrious actions in peace and war, among ſo many laws wiſely planned and firmly executed, will, in future times, diſtinguiſh the memorable period of the preſent adminiſtration. The na⯑ture of the offence for which Mr. Sayre was committed to the Tower, and guarded with ſuch unuſual ſtrictneſs and ſeverity, or the validity of the charge, or the legality or juſtice of the proceeding, will be eſtimated from the extraor⯑dinary bail, which has been accepted on the Ha⯑beas Corpus of this eminent State Criminal.

It is known, that no bail can be admitted to an accuſation of High Treaſon, laid upon any tolerable ground. I do not mean exactly to li⯑mit the power of the Chief Juſtice of England on theſe occaſions, but it is univerſally known, that ſuch is the general nature of the offence. The ſecurity in the preſent caſe amounts (in effect) to no bail at all. The culprit himſelf, his partner, and his attorney, are the perſons bound; and they are not all three bound in a ſum amounting to more than a thouſand pound. It is this ſpecial bail which forms at this moment the indiſſoluble texture of the triple cord of public ſecurity. It is at this price that the moſt [43] deſperate of traitors, if we believe the Miniſter, has purchaſed the means of eſcaping from the puniſhment of the paſt, or of enſuring the per⯑petration of his future crimes.

I believe there is no man under a ſerious charge of High Treaſon, who would not readily redeem his life at the price of one thouſand pounds. There is no man daring enough to conceive ſuch a Treaſon, to whom the fear of loſing a thou⯑ſand pounds would prove any reſtraint in his black deſigns. We all remember the clamour that was raiſed againſt Lord Mansfield, for ad⯑mitting to bail, upon a ſum nearly as conſi⯑derable as this, a man who was accuſed of ſteal⯑ing a few quires of paper. No faction has as yet gone ſuch lengths in this caſe; or been impudent enough to accuſe that great Magiſtrate of illegality or partiality, in taking ſuch bail for a perſon who ſtood charged with an attempt to ſteal the King.

Attempts, which in private caſes would be but miſdemeanors, or ſometimes no definite offence at all, change their nature in caſes which relate to the King's perſon, and become crimes of the greateſt magnitude, as they certainly are of the blackeſt die. Some time ago the depriving a few Printers Devils of their liberty, for a ſhort time, was eſtimated at an higher ſum than an [44] attempt to take away the liberty of our Sove⯑reign, and with it of courſe the liberty, as well as the happineſs of all his people. It could not be, that Lord Mansfield, whoſe affection to his Majeſty cannot be diſputed, did not value his gracious Sovereign, benefactor, and friend, at more than one thouſand pound. This eſtima⯑tion would fall below all precedents in ſimilar caſes, the value of money in different times and countries conſidered. It was not therefore the crime, but the charge and the proceſs that were treated with ſuch juſt contempt, by a firm, enlightened, and conſtitutional Chief Juſtice. Our guardian angel of the laws did but touch this diabolical plot with the ſpear of his pointed ſagacity, when inſtantly it ſtarted up in its own proper ſhape, and moved the deriſion of the world.

Here we muſt commend the Chief Juſtice. No man ever ſpoke more conſtitutional language, or ever acted in a more conſtitutional manner. But when we have ſaid this of Lord Mansfield, there end all the commendations that we can beſtow upon the ſervants of the crown. It does not appear why they ſhould at all have taken up Mr. Sayre, much leſs why they ſhould have committed him cloſe priſoner to the Tower, upon grounds, which at the very firſt view, a man of ſenſe and knowledge perceived to be ſo contemptible. It [45] does not appear upon what grounds a Miniſter of State choſe to order ſo cloſe and rigorous a con⯑finement, for a matter which the head of the law conſidered as meriting in effect no confine ment at all.

The ſenſes of our Miniſters were ſo compleatly taken away (I ſuppoſe by the horror of ſo dread⯑ful a plot) that they did not know for what par⯑ticular matter it was, that they had choſen to commit this deſperate and formidable conſpi⯑rator. The warrant for taking Mr. Sayre is for High Treaſon,—the warrant for his commitment is for Treaſonable Practices;—but when they come to inform the public of their proceedings, thro' the Gazette, they return to their old ground, and tell us they have committed him upon a charge of High Treaſon. What could be the reaſon of all this confuſion, contradiction, and prevarication? Their excuſe on this affair, as on the affairs of America, and indeed on moſt others, is their want of knowledge on the ſubject.

Candour calls on me to admit, that a Secre⯑tary of State who has, or aſſumes the power of acting as a Magiſtrate, is not therefore obliged, or ſuppoſed to have in himſelf any knowledge of law or of his own duty in that ſituation; or indeed any knowledge of thoſe rules of prudence, with which men, who have no authority to ſup⯑port [46] them in their errors, are obliged to regulate their conduct. What I lament in men of their excellent diſpoſitions, and what they will join me in lamenting, is, that they have no power.

The King's Privy Council was not able to cammand the attendance of any of the great Law Officers of the Crown. The Chief Juſtice would not be preſent. The Attorney General (no one ſuſpects it was through fear) declined attendance. It is ſaid, that Mr. Wedderburne was the law director on this occaſion. But un⯑til Mr. Wedderburne avows this folly, it is not handſome, and I fear it might poſſibly be action⯑able to charge a gentleman of a learned profeſſion with any ſhare in ſo unbookiſh ^* a proceeding.

One might have imagined that the maſter of the Thief-takers, whom (with that propriety which diſtinguiſhes all their conduct) they thought pro⯑per to aſſume as their aſſeſſor, and on whom the ſafety of the King and kingdom, and the exe⯑cution of their moſt important laws, were reſted in ſuch a critical moment, he, one would ima⯑gine, might have acquired, in his extenſive prac⯑tices, a little more knowledge of buſineſs. But it is poſſible, that this great magiſtrate, like ſome other great men on great occaſions, was [47] called to Council only for form, to give the ſanc⯑tion of his important preſence to this very grave proceeding. His advice was, moſt probably, not taken though his figure was exhibited. The Miniſters very naturally meant to cover themſelves by the name and authority of Sir John Fielding.

They wiſely conſidered, that the eyes not only of England and America, but of all Europe, were upon them. They therefore choſe to be⯑ſtow upon this tranſaction a degree of public ſolemnity equal to its intrinſic value, To ac⯑compliſh this intention, the Property-man of the Court Theartre had orders to fill a part in this ſplendid ſpectacle with our blind ſeer, the ſage Tireſias of the Britiſh Nation. The whole corps diplomatique was infinitely edified. The foreign Miniſters now look with admiration (an admira⯑tion for the firſt time wholly unmixed with envy) on the profound wiſdom, aſtoniſhing re⯑ſources, and incredible ſucceſs of our Stateſmen, in all their concerns, from the evacuation of Boſton to the diſcharge of Mr. Sayre.

We are yet to ſee the ſecond part of this buſi⯑neſs opened; and to behold Mr. Sayre in the character of a proſecutor, not a culprit; of an aſſailant, not a defender. We ſhall ſee him, like his brethren of Boſton, beſieging that Mini⯑ſter [48] who had blocked up his ſhop. Here the caſe will be greatly altered; and ſuch contempt⯑ible bail will not, I apprehend, be taken, in the action, which Mr. Sayre, will probably bring againſt the Secretary of State, for having ſeized and committed a man in trade upon ſuch frivo⯑lous grounds, and by ſuch an illegal method of proceeding. The King's Exchequer muſt ſup⯑port the credit of Mr. Sayre's Bank. There will be new reaſon to call upon this good⯑natured Parliament to pay the debts of his Majeſty's Civil Liſt, incurred by the want of knowledge, precipitancy, and ſhallow politics of his Miniſters.

This will now become a regular head, and ſet⯑tled charge in the account of the Treaſurer of the Chamber:

It is no trivial ſum which has hitherto filled up, or which will hereafter fill the above blank. The charge is certain and infallible, and muſt be pro⯑vided for; though, like the Navy Debt and the extraordinaries of the army, it cannot be brought into eſtimate. There muſt be ſome unknown, but important and ſingular advantage to a na⯑tion in being governed by fooliſh Miniſters, ſince [49] people are content to pay ſo dearly for that bene⯑fit.

This ſham plot appears at firſt view to have been a miſerable and ludicrous affair from the beginning to the end. Yet, however conducted, I do not think it was wholly devoid of a certain ſort of policy in the original ſcheme. It might anſwer a preſent purpoſe, and at a critical mo⯑ment. Its operation laſted as long as political plots are neceſſary to hold. Like Moor-Game brought from the North, the haut gout and fu⯑mette recommend it for a day; the next it ſtinks.

The Miniſters opened the ſeſſion under a few ſmall diſadvantages. Among other items of charge, they were under ſome ſlight apprehen⯑ſions that they might poſſibly be called to ſome account for the loſs of an empire. They felt themſelves in danger. They were obliged, like thoſe they ſent to other diſagreeable ſervices, to fortify themſelves on the Neck. The addreſſes were their intrenchments; the plot was the mine; and thus well ſecured in front they did not fear the unpaid body of Rifle-Men, who were charged and ready to let fly at them.

The bringing down his Majeſty to his Parlia⯑ment under a double guard, and with a double [50] proportion of the mob of conſtables ^* and trading Juſtices, in order to guard that guard, was on the whole, a manoeuvre not ill calculated to inſpire panic terrors, and rob the poor multitude of their little remaining ſtock of common ſenſe.

The Miniſtry were ſenſible of the zeal and affection of the people to their Prince. They hoped that the danger of the ſtate might be for⯑gotten in the ſuppoſed danger of the Soverign. They hoped that our anxiety for his Majeſty's ſafety might ſuſpend our reſentment for the loſs of his empire; and that in this general diſmay and confuſion, nobody would enquire into the merits of that invaluable ſpeech, which had eſ⯑caped to the ſanctuary of Parliament, through ſo many ſurrounding perils.

This ludicrous proceeding has a ſerious mo⯑ral. Miniſters ought not to trifle with the ſafety of their maſter. They ought not to preſume to make that ſacred object the play-thing of their paltry politics. They ought to be as far from en⯑couraging a manifeſtly corrupt, or an evidently [51] trivial charge, as from neglecting a grave and weighty information. The levity or low cun⯑ning which tempts them to ſuch petty arts, have effects that may be fatal. They tend to leſſen that horror which uſed to attend a charge of High Treaſon. By falſe alarms they prepare the way for real dangers. They encourage conſpiracies by weakening the public belief in them. That man is not without a large ſhare of the guilt of any future, wicked enterprize, who with ſham plots and childiſh ſtories amuſes the public cre⯑dulity, always prone to believe too much or too little.

I truſt that the ſpirit now riſing in Parliament will animate honeſt men to an enquiry into the affair, without being diverted from their other important enquiries. They will know how Mi⯑niſters come to ſport with High Treaſon, whilſt impeachments are hanging over their own heads. They will aſk how they came to deceive into the ſupport of their ruinous meaſures, men in the higheſt offices, and the moſt entitled to a faithful communication? They will aſk why they be⯑trayed private truſt as well as public confi⯑dence? They will aſk the Miniſters, why, in the laſt year, they demanded an implicit reliance from their extenſive knowledge, and this year argue their innocence from their ignorance? They will call for an account of the treaſures, [52] the arms, the commerce, the reputation, the dominion of their country, which have been fooliſhly ſquandered, feebly employed, wantonly ſacrificed, ſhamefully tarniſhed, lamentably loſt. When theſe queſtions receive the only anſwers they can receive, and theſe anſwers the only re⯑ply they deſerve, then may there be ſome hopes of ſalvation for this country.

I really do not conceive an object more worthy of a manly and reſpectful compaſſion, than a great mind ſacrificing its deareſt intereſt and riſking even total ruin upon a principle of dignity. But, before a man becomes a martyr to any opinion, he ought to be ſuppoſed to have ſome notion of the merits of the cauſe in which he gives ſo painful a proof of his ſincerity. If we had not had ten years war with Mr. Wilkes, begun on the principles, and ended in the manner in which that ever memo⯑rable [53] war was begun and ended, before our eyes, we might be at a loſs to conceive what ideas of dig⯑nity our Miniſters had conceived. I believe it is generally remembered, that that noble and ſuc⯑ceſsful ſtruggle was made entirely for dignity. Our American war was alſo undertaken for dig⯑nity. All the world ſees with what dignity it is conducted. All the world ſees the dignity which was ſo uniformly ſuſtained in the Tragi-comedy of ‘"Majeſty preſerved, or the Sayre Plot diſco⯑vered."’ The rule of the drama was there in⯑tirely well obſerved.

never was known a proceeding ſo perfectly con⯑ſiſtent with itſelf, and with every other proceed⯑ing of it's authors.

The court Gazette, at the opening of Parlia⯑ment announces to all Europe a deſign of ſeizing the King in his capital, in the moſt frequented ſtreet of that capital, ſurrounded by his guards, and in the very act of his ſolemn meeting of his nobles and his people. Since the grand Gun⯑powder Treaſon we have not heard of a more deſperate conſpiracy. Does any man (out of the miniſtry) imagine that the perſonal honour of the King, that the glory of our nation, in a word, that Britiſh dignity was enhanced by this public [54] avowal of ſo daring an attempt on the ſacred per⯑ſon of a King, without uſing any means to puniſh the criminal, to guard againſt his farther attempts, or to prevent the terrible effects of ſuch a glaring example of wickedneſs and impunity?

The reputation for courage and wiſdom has hitherto been conſidered as the only ſource of dignity. If the danger from this conſpiracy was contempti⯑ble, it was a poor diſplay of courage to manifeſt ſo great an alarm upon it. If deep and ſerious, it ſhewed a deplorable want of wiſdom in doing nothing whatever in conſequence of it.

I am not ſpeaking of the honeſty and juſtice of that meaſure toward the ſubject. Of this Miniſters may hear at another ſeaſon. I confine myſelf ſolely to the manner in which they conſulted the dignity of their Sovereign, and his reputation amongſt the other Crowned Heads of Europe. Inſtead of an Object of awe and reſpect, he is at beſt held out as an object of compaſſion; when with all his virtues he could not be preſerved from ſuch attempts; and with all the aid of his laws, and all the ſupplementary authority of his Par⯑liament, he was not able to puniſh them.

Miniſters have no way to ſave themſelves from theſe imputations, but by admitting that they did not themſelves believe one word of that plot, which they announced to the world with ſo much [55] parade. Had they believed it, they would, they muſt, have brought it before Parliament. It was their duty ſo to do. That I confeſs is not ſo ſtrong a proof that they would have done ſo. But it was their intereſt to have done it; and in the courſe of things, if they had known matter, that carried even a grave appearance, they certainly would have laid it before Parliament. But they have never opened their lips in either Houſe upon the ſubject. Even their well trained majority was not to be truſted with diſgracing themſelves by the adoption of ſo fooliſh and ſo foul a ſcheme. One act of public diſgrace is merely miniſterial, and has not been communicated with Parlia⯑ment.

If they have been ſilent in Parliament, have they opened their mouths in the Courts of Juſtice, were this daring attempt, (if it ever had birth,) ought to have been purſued to the death of the bold and bad contrivers? So far from purſuing Mr. Sayre in a Court of Juſtice, they were not to be provoked to a word of juſtification of their conduct, when Mr. Sayre brought them there by claiming his right of ſtanding in his country like other innocent men, free from charge and free from bail.

Theſe abortive plots tend to diſgrace the Crown, the Law, and the Magiſtrates of England, with other ſtates. They tend to render the King [56] jealous of his people. In whatever light they are viewed, they are at once ridiculous and alarming.

But our worthy repreſentatives have looked on with perfect indifference. To them the wiſdom, or the folly; the reality, or the falſity of the plot; the danger of the King, or of the ſubject; the baſe neglect of the miniſtry in dropping, or the ſcandalous diligence in beginning, the proſecution; the honour of the national wiſdom, or the national juſtice; theſe are matters in which they have no concern. This is an improvement in the faſhion⯑able nonchalance and inattention in modern good breeding. One would have imagined that com⯑mon civility ſhould have induced a Parliament, ſo verſed in polite addreſs, to make ſome enquiry how his Majeſty had reſted after ſuch an attempt. The circumſtance, of the attempt being made on a viſit to them, might have called upon them for ſome ſort of notice. But times as well as coun⯑tries have their cuſtoms.

LETTER VII.
TENURE OF OFFICE.

THE Duke of Grafton has been removed from the Office of Privy Seal. The mere re⯑moval of a Miniſter is a matter of little moment to the people. But the cauſe of his removal may be of the higheſt importance; as it is frequently the ſureſt and ſtrongeſt indication of the ſyſtem of politics which predominates at Court.

The offence given by the Duke of Grafton is known to all the world. A perſon of the higheſt rank in the kingdom, in an office of the higheſt rank in the State, very lately firſt Miniſter of State, in great perſonal favour with his Majeſty, cloſely connected by the ſtrongeſt ties of affinity, inclination, and intereſt with a leading part of the adminiſtration, and a conſtant and powerful ſupporter of their meaſures.—This man, finding [58] the Britiſh empire in America loſt by the mea⯑ſures he had implicitly ſupported, at laſt pre⯑ſumes to deſire ſome little information in this pe⯑rilous ſtate of our affairs. He is immediately diſmiſſed from his employment, with every poſ⯑ſible mark of diſpleaſure and diſgrace.

The favourers of Adminiſtration are now ac⯑quainted with the terms upon which they are to ſupport government. A great deal of the ſupport not only of well-wiſhers within doors but even of the Members of both Houſes of Parlia⯑ment, muſt be implicit. Many matters of detail undoubtedly cannot, ſome matters certainly ought not, to be communicated. The advantage of having men of great rank and intereſt in their country, in high ſtation, is this, and perhaps this only: we ſuppoſe they have a ſpirit proportioned to their ſtation; that they look for ſomething elſe in office beſides the ſalary; that they are entitled to information and explanation; that they at leaſt are depoſitaries of the real ſecret. On this pre⯑ſumption, the ſupport of ſuch great perſons be⯑comes a pledge to the public, that the ſteps taken by the directing part of Miniſtry, are taken upon proper ground. When the people at large have reaſon to believe this to be the caſe, they are apt patiently to acquieſce in the ruling wiſdom. [59] Their confidence ſubſiſts unſhaken, even among difficulties which embaraſs their affairs, and doubts that perplex their underſtanding.

It has been now, for the firſt time, thought proper to remove the veil that was drawn between the people and the government. We are now in⯑formed, that the ſupport of the greateſt men in the kingdom, and in the higheſt offices, is to be as blind and uninformed as that of Cuſtom-Houſe Officer, who by order of the Treaſury votes at an election for a Nabob.

Ignorant credulity, paſſive ſubmiſſion, blind obedience, are the virtues which politicians have hitherto required, and ſometimes found—in the mob. Until our happy days, theſe laudable diſ⯑poſitions have not been thought qualifications for the higheſt offices in a great empire. At preſent it is not enough to impoſe upon the people. The purpoſe for which one half of the Miniſtry ſubſiſts, is to impoſe upon the other half. By this happy invention it is, that a Miniſtry, compoſed of jar⯑ring principles and adverſe opinions, is to be ren⯑dered unanimous.

A ſort of frauds I admit have been often prac⯑tiſed in matters of ſtate. The public danger has been often repreſented much beyond the reality, in order that the fulleſt preparations might be made againſt it; becauſe ſuperfluous comprehends [60] neceſſary exertion; and it is better to be a good deal beyond, than the leaſt degree ſhort of ſecurity. But this is the firſt time that real difficulties were concealed, in order that weak arrangements ſhould be juſtified; or that feeble arrangements were avowedly choſen, in order to hide a danger of the firſt magnitude. In former times, whate⯑ver little artifices were uſed, were external. Till now, ſyſtematical, internal deluſion, and mutual impoſitions of Miniſters, have not been openly profeſſed as maxims of government.

The Houſe of Lords preſented the other day a ſcene as inſtructive as it was ſingular. An alter⯑cation had ariſen on the ſtate of the navy. It was thought extraordinary laſt year, when the reduc⯑tion of America by force was reſolved on, that the naval eſtabliſhment ſhould be reduced from 20,000 to 18,000 ſeamen. It was then thought ſomething unaccountable, that operations of vio⯑lence ſhould be commenced by a reduction of ſtrength. At that time, however, the firſt Lord of the Admiralty, in the firſt aſſembly of the na⯑tion, ſolemnly declared, that that he knew the eſtabliſhment, as then voted at 18,000 men, to be ſufficient for all its purpoſes. This year, the ſame perſon, in the ſame office, in the ſame aſ⯑ſembly, has declared, that he laſt year knew it to be not ſufficient.

[61] The ſpecies of courage and magnanimity which ſupports a man in ſuch a declaration, excited no ſurpriſe. The character of that truly noble per⯑ſon is perfectly and univerſally underſtood. It was the reaſon he aſſigned for the laſt year's im⯑poſition, that ſtruck every man who heard it. He was obliged (he ſaid) to make that repreſenta⯑tion to the Houſe, becauſe if he had laid open the real extent and neceſſities of the ſervice in which the naval power was to be employed, he ‘"ſhould not have been ſupported by Lords in high office."’

The reaſon aſſigned for this groſs impoſition, on the hereditary council of the Crown who agreed to that eſtabliſhment, on the Commons who voted it, and on the nation which acqui⯑eſced in it, is in effect, ‘"that if the firſt Lord of the Admiralty had not deceived the public, he could not have been happy enough to de⯑ceive his colleagues."’ To ſeduce us into a war, it muſt carry the appearance of peace. Our danger muſt be concealed, leſt we ſhould keep out of it, or prepare againſt it. A civil war is in itſelf ſo deſirable to Miniſters, that we muſt run into it without either knowledge or prepara⯑tion. This pious and prudent war was to pleaſe, like virtue, for its own ſake; and to be recom⯑mended, even by the miſeries which were to at⯑tend it. We muſt reſolve to cut the throats of [62] the Americans, even though our own defeat, even though famine, blockade, loſs of reputa⯑tion, and loſs of empire, ſhould be the inevit⯑able conſequence. Theſe diſaſters were to be⯑come the pledge of our perſeverance in this glo⯑rious deſign. When we ſhould have ſuffered enough of ſhame, and enough of damage, in the firſt feeble effort, it was preſumed we ſhould grow ſufficiently irritated (not with our adviſers but our enemies) to continue in thoſe hoſtilities which, with information, we never could have commenced; that having been brought into dif⯑ficulties by ignorance, we ſhould plunge deeper by paſſion; that feeling we had ſuffered by weak exertions, we might be reconciled to the ſtrongeſt; that diſguſted with the ill effects of moderate expences, we might ſet all on one deſperate caſt, in the wild imagination that with a boundleſs charge we might either retrieve our error, or compleat our ruin. A timid and treacherous be⯑ginning; a bold and deſperate progreſs; a con⯑cluſion to be apprehended in the ſilence of horror, not to be expreſſed in words!

Avowing this ſcheme, ſome of the Miniſters have confeſſed, that they had been deceivers; moſt that they had been deceived. Thoſe who are not content to be deceivers, or deceived any [63] longer, are not any longer to be Miniſters. This is now declared to be the tenure of Britiſh ad⯑miniſtration.

One would think, that country gentlemen had too much of plain honeſty, and plain ſenſe, after ſo public a manifeſtation of impoſture, de⯑luſion, and ignorance, to act their part any longer in this tragical farce. Implicit confi⯑dence in confeſſed impoſture, ſeems rather too much. Juſtice muſt be done to many of the country gentlemen. Steady ſupporters of go⯑vernment, they did not mean to be abettors of a faction. When they heard Miniſters confeſs, that the facts were miſtaken and the reaſon⯑ings erroneous, on which the plans of govern⯑ment had been formed for ſeveral years paſt, they thought themſelves obliged to look a little more carefully about them. The public misfor⯑tunes had taught them to preſume leſs, and to examine more. They thought they had a right, after ſo many promiſes broken, and ſo many ex⯑pectations diſappointed, to demand more ex⯑plicit information.

They obſerved, that the perſon called the Mi⯑niſter, on the firſt day of the ſeſſion, was totally undecided concerning the part that he was to act. The ſecond day they heard, or thought they heard him declare, that he would readily aban⯑don [64] taxation, repeal the obnoxious acts, and reduce things to the condition of 1763. A day or two after, they heard him explain himſelf to have meant nothing like it. The ſucceeding day he explained away his explanation. One day conceſſion was to ſet all to rights; the next all depended on force. Sometimes a revenue was to be the true object of the war. Some⯑times an American revenue was the wildeſt pro⯑ject in the world. Sometimes the Americans aimed at independency, and nothing leſs could ſatisfy them. Sometimes it was againſt nature, that they ſhould ſuffer all the evils of war, ra⯑ther than not accept of reaſonable conditions. Sometimes conceſſions on our part were to pre⯑cede an armiſtice; ſometimes the ſubmiſſion of the rebels was to precede all treaty. No two men in office agreed among themſelves on the ſame day; no man agreed with himſelf for two days together. The beginning of almoſt all their ſpeeches, was at irreconcileable variance with the concluſion.

Laſt year a few garbled papers were laid before parliament, and a civil and military plan, ſuch as they were. This year one part of the mi⯑niſtry confeſſing their bad information, and ano⯑ther their evil intentions, call for a much greater meaſure of confidence than ever. Inſtead of [65] laying garbled, mutilated papers before the Houſe, they produce none. The taſk-maſters leſſen the provender of their hacks, in propor⯑tion as they increaſe their labour.

Gentlemen call for the advices from America. They are refuſed. They demand the ſtate of their troops in that quarter. It is denied them. The general outline of the miniſterial plan is ſo⯑licited. It is dangerous to divulge it. It is aſked, whether they have any plan at all? Still no ſatisfaction. The public know nothing, ex⯑cept declarations of innocence, and acts of in⯑demnity; Hanoverians brought in contrary to law, and Ruſſian Auxiliaries never to be brought at all; troops that cannot be raiſed, and trea⯑ties that are never to be executed; powerful fleets and vaſt armies, of which there is nothing certain but the ruinous expence.

Such was the language and ſituation of the Miniſters, and ſuch the view of affairs, even previous to the late changes. Every thing called on country gentlemen to begin to think for themſelves. But there is a further demand on their attention. American affairs are now taken out of the hands of Lord North. That noble Lord's Dartmouth, is re⯑moved, in order to mark, in the moſt diſtinct and public manner, the total ceſſation of Lord [66] North's influence and direction in the American department.

A new Secretary of State for the Colonies, Lord George Germaine, takes the lead in Ame⯑rican buſineſs. At preſent, therefore, Lord North's declarations, retractations, modifica⯑tions, explanations, and reſervations, are wholly out of the queſtion. His Lordſhip is now to fall back, and, at beſt, to act only a ſecondary part. Thoſe who ſupported adminiſtration, as declar⯑ing a perſonal confidence in Lord North, have that ground of confidence taken from under them. If from a ſort of hereditary party regard the Tories felt a reſpect for Lord North's family, I fear, whatever Lord George himſelf may do to pleaſe them, his family does not afford him that recommendation. What then is to be the foundation of implicit truſt in the new Mi⯑niſter? All we know is, that he has always ſhewn a very rooted hoſtile diſpoſition to America. His Parliamentary prop is Mr. Wedderburne; his private counſellor is Governor Hutchinſon. This triumvirate compoſes the new American cabi⯑net. Some country gentlemen may think it right to ſupport theſe Miniſters with as blind a confidence as that with which they ſupported Lord North and Lord Dartmouth, until the middle of laſt week. Theſe new Miniſters have been the under workmen of the late Premier. [67] How they came to aſſume the lead and direction, is a matter of curious, rather than important ſpeculation. But I ſee no reaſon for preſuming, that thoſe who have helped to cauſe theſe diſtrac⯑tions, while they were in a ſubordinate capacity, will re-eſtabliſh our affairs in a ſuperior ſitua⯑tion.

Theſe affairs and times will ſift and ſearch the principles of men. Former majorities were very mixed bodies. Many good and quiet men ſupported Miniſters from hatred of buſtle and contention; from a ſuſpicion that oppoſition was at bottom as intereſted as adminiſtration. At length meaſures ſpeak a language not to be miſunderſtood. They ſpeak no longer in arguments and conjec⯑tures, but in effects. Our American empire is loſt; and we know in whoſe hands that calamity has happened. The Miniſters are caught with the Mainer, as the Lawyers ſay. No majority can hide the principals or the abettors.

The true country gentleman will now be diſ⯑tinguiſhed from the courtier in maſquerade. The characteriſtic of a true country gentleman, is his care of the property of his conſtituents. He will not think that railing at rebellion is a reaſon for taxing his country, without any ac⯑count of the paſt uſe of his ſupplies, or any ſe⯑curity for their future proper and effectual em⯑ployment. [68] To tell him that the Americans are defective in their duty, will not be a reaſon for him to neglect his own, or to ſuffer Miniſters to neglect theirs. He will never believe, that the way of ſuppreſſing or quieting rebellion in Ame⯑rica, conſiſts in encouraging deceit, negligence, or miſmanagement at home. At a time like this, a true Engliſh country gentleman will diſ⯑tinguiſh himſelf by a conſtitutional ſuſpicion, and a conſtant deſire of account and informa⯑tion. On the contrary, the courtier in maſque⯑rade, like thoſe that compound felony in the news-papers, and advertiſe for ſtolen goods, of⯑fers his money, and aſſures that ‘"no queſtions will be aſked."’

It is true that this latter deſcription of country gentlemen, not at all troubled with an imperti⯑nent, incommodious ſolicitude, and teizing cu⯑rioſity, have received, bountifully and of free grace (for they called for none) ſome ſatisfaction from the Miniſters for all the money they have voted. They were told, with due ſolemnity, with much pomp, and true oracular gravity, in both Houſes of Parliament, ‘"That there is ſomething in the nature and complexion of this country, which diſpoſes it to be diſgraced and beaten in the beginning of a war; that it has been always ſo; and that as we have begun [69] the American war in our natural and habitual manner, we ſhall, as formerly, riſe from contempt to honour, and from defeat to glory."’

I do not mean to derogate, in the ſmalleſt de⯑gree, from any one particle of this ſatisfactory account of our paſt failure, and this ſolid ground of our future hopes. Let the facts and inferences remain for ever unimpeached. It would be cruel to nibble at the leaſt crum of this comfort. It is indeed the only apology that has been ſo much as attempted, for Miniſters and their ſupporters. It is the ſimple and ſole account which gentle⯑men have to render to their conſtituents at the Chriſtmas receſs, of a Land Tax entailed on poſterity at four ſhillings in the pound; and a ſinking fund, alienated for ever from its original purpoſes, to an eternal but inadequate proviſion for the intereſt of growing debts, and aggravated eſtabliſhments.

LETTER VIII.
HOUSE OF COMMONS SHUT.

THE gallery of the Houſe of Commons has for about three weeks been ſhut againſt ſtrangers, for ſome reaſon far more weighty, I muſt ſuppoſe, than the mere accomodation of the few members, who, in this cold ſeaſon, chuſe to ſhiver on the half deſerted benches, or to huddle themſelves together, and blow their fin⯑gers about the Speaker's chair.

I am told, the Miniſters complain, that their ſpeeches are miſrepreſented; and this miſrepre⯑ſentation is aſſigned to the Houſe as a juſtifiable cauſe for an utter excluſion of their conſtitu⯑ents. With all the deference which I bear to the opinions of thoſe gentlemen, I muſt think they are ſomewhat miſtaken in this method of prevent⯑ing miſrepreſentation. The Houſe cannot hin⯑der [71] the members from gratifying the curioſity of their friends with accounts of what paſſes in the debates. The ſentiments and opinions of Mi⯑niſters, will very naturally be the firſt object of that curioſity. Paſſion and prejudice on the one ſide, and the ill conception of a drowſy and oblivious acquieſcence on the other, will, not un⯑naturally, render the accounts fallacious or erro⯑neous. Thus a material injury may be done to the language of the cleareſt ſpeakers, and to the ſentiments of the moſt accurate, cloſe, and ſyſte⯑matic thinkers. A numerous auditory is there⯑fore the only ſecurity againſt the weak accounts of friends, and the malignant interpretation of enemies. Moſt men, who would not have their ſenſe miſtaken, wiſh to be their own interpre⯑ters; and thoſe who complain that malicious re⯑ports are circulated to their diſadvantage, cannot object to an opportunity of clearing themſelves to the world; for I always take it as granted, that the ſtrangers, as we are called, are not more to be ſuſpected by Miniſters of an ill diſpo⯑ſition towards them, than many of thoſe, whom it is not yet in their power to exclude.

This fear of miſrepreſentation being but a poor reaſon for turning a popular repreſentative into a ſecret conclave, I rather ſuſpect, that ſtrangers are excluded, not becauſe Miniſters are [72] miſrepreſented, but becauſe they cannot be un⯑derſtood. I have ſometimes the honour of being admitted, at a coffee houſe where the members take refreſhment, to a converſation with ſome worthy gentlemen who always vote in the majo⯑rity. It muſt be admitted in their favour, that if they are in the ſecret, they are perfectly worthy of the truſt repoſed in them; for they appear to be no more enlightened than myſelf, with regard to the objects which Miniſters have in view, or with regard to their means of attaining any ob⯑ject whatever. In ſaying this, I would not inſi⯑nuate a thing ſo much to their prejudice, as that their total want of information concerning the plans, arguments, and opinions of Miniſters, make the leaſt abatement in the zeal with which they ſupport them.

Happily the Houſe of Lords is more acceſſible. What can be the cauſe? Is it, that this Houſe, being the great natural council of the Crown, muſt of courſe be leſs in the ſecret of affairs, than an aſſembly merely popular? Or is it, that not being accountable to the people at a general election, the Lords are more indifferent than our worthy repreſentatives, about the diſcovery of their ſentiments? Or muſt we ſuppoſe, that the great Miniſters there are ſo much more clear and determinate in their ideas, than the involved [73] Oracles of the Houſe of Commons, that they are not more afraid of being miſunderſtood by two hundred than by twenty?

In that reſidence of well-bred, eaſy, popular manners, I had lately the happineſs of hearing a noble and learned Peer, who poſſeſſes as great a ſhare of clearneſs in explaining, as he does of power in guiding the public meaſures. From him I thought I ſhould have received that ſatis⯑faction, which I had in vain ſought in other places. I was, however, I muſt confeſs, perhaps to my ſhame, a little diſappointed. Lord Mans⯑field, inſtead of opening new matter to us from his own abundant magazines of policy, thought proper to refer us to Doctor Tucker, whoſe pam⯑phlet I had juſt bought for a ſhilling. Doctor Tucker is, it ſeems, the only perſon who has put the long agitated queſtion of America on its proper bottom. Whatever many of us might have thought before, we dare no longer treat the projects of that worthy, political, and commer⯑cial divine, as viſionary. They have received the ſanction of the higheſt authority in the kingdom for ſtation, wit, learning, and abilities. The great author of theſe projects, we are told, has hit ‘"upon the true alternative, either to make the Colonies ſubmit, or totally to abandon them, and then treat with them for peace, as an inde⯑pendent country."’ ^*

[74] I ſhould hardly have imagined, that a man of Lord Mansfield's real accuracy and penetration, could have been ſo wonderfully ſtruck with this ſtate of the important queſtion, which now en⯑gages the attention of the world. The alterna⯑tive propoſed by the Doctor, under favour, ſeems not to be a true ſtate of the queſtion; for be⯑ſides abſolute ſubmiſſion, and total ſeparation there, is in all internal diſputes evidently a third me⯑thod, I mean that of reconciliation and compromiſe. This is a method which, though it ſeems now out of faſhion, has formerly been ſometimes men⯑tioned, when nations were involved in a Civil War.

Lord Mansfield in this fine ſpeech, for ſuch it was, ſtrongly recommended a coalition of par⯑ties. The deſign is certainly laudable. But ſo long as he adheres to this favourite alternative, the execution, it ſhould ſeem, cannot be without great difficulty. Whatever may become of this deſign, ſurely a great ſtateſman ought to have larger views. Would it not be altogether as wor⯑thy of this great perſon's conciliatory and lenient talents, to bring about a coalition in empire, as in party? His Lordſhip valued himſelf on having brought about the famous coalition of [75] parties in 1757, and he ſpoke with much complacency of his ſhare in that memorable tranſaction. He then made his early eſſays of negotiation, in reconciling the old to the young politicians of that day; will he now ſtand forth, in the full maturiry of his wiſdom, and recon⯑cile the Mother Country to her Colonies? I imagine the difficulties in his way will not be greater, though the end will be ſtill more glorious. He will not find England more fond of power than the late Duke of Newcaſtle—He will not find America more diſpoſed to independence than Mr. Pitt; nor her ſpirit more lofty; nor her temper more punc⯑tilious. Lord Mansfield then brought England to unite againſt her natural enemies; let him now pre⯑vail on her to agree with her natural friends. He then brought the Tories to be good ſervants to a Whig government; let him now perſuade them to become moderate maſters to a Whig people.

If he can do theſe things, he may be aſſured that when he is ^* ‘"no more than Tully or than Hyde,"’ the Engliſh on both ſides of the great Ocean, pacified by his virtues, will to the lateſt poſterity vie with each other in honours to his name. While ^† the pealing organ, and the pauſing choir accord with the lawn-rob'd Prelate who will [76] mix the aſhes of the patriot with the duſt of Kings, America, who boaſts no cathedrals, and has ſeen as yet no Kings, will, in her plain churches, erect Cenotaphs to his memory; and ſurely his indulgent ſhade, then purged from the dregs of all party ſourneſs, will not diſdain the ſimple hymns of a leſs oſtentatious worſhip; but will look down with a gracious and benignant ſmile on the annual gratitude of an unpoliſhed people, and the homely commemoration of an in⯑dependent preacher.

The name of Murray, the pride of every alum⯑nus of Weſtminſter, has led me into this fanciful excurſion among the tombs. But to return to the Lord Mansfield, ^* ‘"ſo known, ſo honoured in the Houſe of Lords,"’—and to Doctor Tucker.—The learned Lord, as well as I can diſcern, ſeems altogether to agree with the learned Divine, in his ſtate of the caſe; and he no where contra⯑dicts his general theory. But their conſequent plan differs as widely as pole from pole. The Divine is of opinion, that the poſſeſſion of America is of no advantage to us, and therefore with a ſpi⯑rit becoming a Miniſter of the Goſpel, as well as a good politician, he is for giving the Coloniſts (though not with the beſt grace in the world) that independency, which, according to him, they ſo much deſire to obtain, and which, as he thinks, [77] it will coſt us little or nothing to beſtow. His ground appears to me to be exceedingly bad; but if he can once eſtabliſh it, he is far from reaſoning ill. His concluſion flows directly and irreſiſtibly from his premiſes.

The Bon Mot of the Biſhop of Glouceſter, con⯑cerning two Divines, is now rather trite. One of them, whom I ſhall not name, he ſaid, made his religion a trade; the other, Dr. Tucker, (much to his credit in a commercial country) made trade his religion. Without venturing on ſo much freedom with the Dean, as his Biſhop may be al⯑lowed to uſe, it is certain that next to religion he has applied to this ſubject with the moſt diligence, and with very great ſucceſs. He would have ap⯑plied with very little diligence to it, and with no ſucceſs at all, if he did not know that firſt ele⯑mental principle in the criſs croſs row of commerce, which is—the imprudence of throwing good money after bad, and expending a capital without ex⯑pectation of return.

Lord Mansfield did not, on that day, explain how it happens, that ſeeming at leaſt entirely to agree with Dr. Tucker concerning the commer⯑cial importance of America, he is willing to ex⯑hauſt mines of treaſure, and to ſpill ſeas of blood, to reduce the Colonies to what he calls ſubmiſſion, and they term ſlavery.

[78] ‘"To compel them to ſubmit"’ are words of no preciſe meaning. To what is it the Americans are to ſubmit? To regulations of trade? If Lord Mansfield agrees with the Dean of Glou⯑ceſter, theſe regulations, ſo far from being valu⯑able, are in reality rather miſchievous to our⯑ſelves. A war to compel ſuch ſubmiſſion, may well be called unnatural. Is it to taxation they are to ſubmit? If ſo, the end and the ſole end of taxation being revenue, that is to ſay, profit, it is, like all other profit, a matter of calculation. If our preſent proceedings promiſe at any time to produce a profit commenſurate to the blood, ex⯑pence, and riſque, or any profit at all, we then have an object. Whether we are likely to ſucceed in it, by the means we uſe, is another queſtion; but miniſtry acting wiſely or unwiſely, do, in that caſe, purſue ſomething.

I attended with all the diligence due to his great abilities, to Lord Mansfield on that his great day, and I muſt confeſs I received no more ſatisfaction from him on the probability of this revenue, than I had received from the Houſe of Commons, whilſt that Houſe permitted their conſtituents to hear the reaſons they aſſign for the burthens they impoſe.

The nation is not kindly treated. It is docile enough, but the maſters refuſe to teach. To [79] make a war for taxation, without an eſtimate of revenue, is not rational. I ſay no worſe of it. Lord Mansfield ſhould have given this eſtimate. He has been Chancellor of the Exchequer, or a picture I have ſomewhere ſeen belies him. The preſent Chancellor of the Exchequer, in his bu⯑ſineſs at leaſt, does not ſeem to be more than a picture; a very faint repreſentation of a great financier. With ſubmiſſion, an eſtimate of this ſort would be of ſomething more importance, and a little more to the point, than this learned Lord's Hiſtory of American hereditary diſaffection. The original ſin of the Colonies, independence, which, however entertaining, (and every thing from him muſt be entertaining) was little to the purpoſe of that argument. But as he choſe to dwell upon it, I am ſure it anſwered ſome purpoſe; and there⯑fore it derſerves a great deal of conſideration.

I propoſe to examine it carefully, if an obſcure writer in a news-paper may venture to criticiſe on the elaborate performance of a perſon of ſo much dignity.

LETTER IX.
AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE.

OUR unhappy civil conteſt, notwithſtanding the innumerable evils which it has produced, is attended with ſome advantage. The ſtate of the provinces, lately our's, is come to be under⯑ſtood, even by Miniſters. The utter impractica⯑bility of drawing a revenue from America is uni⯑verſally acknowledged. The point of taxation has been over and over again abandoned. It is, however, thought neceſſary to lengthen the dura⯑tion, and to augment the rigours of a war begun upon the ſole principle of taxation. Having firſt made war for that object, and that object being found impracticable, we muſt now provide an object for the war. Here is a demand for inge⯑nuity, and Lord Mansfield ſteps forward.

[81] The aim of the Colonies at abſolute indepen⯑dency, is now made the ground of war; and leſt the conduct of the preſent inhabitants ſhould not furniſh proof enough for the purpoſe, they are to be viſited with the ſins of their forefathers, from the third and fourth generation; and ancient hiſ⯑tory is to be ſuborned as the evidence of recent guilt. I really do not reliſh this method of dig⯑ging up the bones of departed error, in order to render the fire of perſecution more intenſe againſt preſent heterodoxy. I know and confeſs, that the people of New England were early in their reſiſt⯑ance to King James. I do not pretend to defend them in that act of rebellion; or in that fondneſs for innovation, which, for any proof I can bring to the contrary, was their true motive for ſubmiſ⯑ſion to the government of King William. That they did ſo reſiſt and ſo ſubmit, is a matter of fact indiſputable. But whether the one is, or the other, or both equally are, to be alledged as va⯑lid proof of their former deſire of independence, is more than I can preſume to determine.

But ſomething I will beg leave to ſay upon the whole of this method of hiſtorically criminating our provinces. I am very certain Lord Mans⯑field would not ſo much as hear of it in his judicial capacity; and on this ſubject, I muſt appeal from the politician to the magiſtrate.

[82] In the firſt place, his Lordſhip would hardly think it fair to ranſack the hiſtory of one, or at the utmoſt two provinces, and the Journals of one or two aſſemblies; and on account of every mu⯑tinous act, or peeviſh vote to be found in them, to conclude twelve more to be guilty, without ci⯑ting one ſingle act or vote of any of the twelve to prove the common charge in which they are all involved. But, according to the modern mode of proceeding, in the evidence we find Maſſachu⯑ſetts Bay, in the ſentence we find the colonies. This little s, ſlipped in as if by accident, forms the ſmall, but venomed ſting in the tail, that is to be mortal to two million of people. Such a looſe method of crimination would do well enough in a news-paper paragraph of a miniſterial writer, or in a dutiful and loyal addreſs from a fifth ^* part of a Scotch borough; but it was hardly to be expected from the accuracy and preciſion of a great reaſoner, or from the equity and impartiality of a conſcientious Judge.

The colonies have been (until our late proceed⯑ings united them) unconnected and independent of each other. If the hiſtory of Maſſachuſetts Bay, or Rhode Iſland, had been a tiſſue of rebellions, without one moment's peace or obedience, how are Pennſylvania, Virginia, Maryland, the two [83] Jerſeys, the two Carolinas, or even Connecticut, or New Hampſhire, anſwerable? It was enough to make theſe Colonies reſponſible for the acts of their own forefathers in a right line, and not to charge them with collateral delinquency, for the offences of the political progenitors of other people.

I am obliged, in the next place, to lament ſe⯑riouſly, that Lord Mansfield, in reading the hiſ⯑tory of even one, (the worſt if he pleaſe) of the colonies, in order from thence to infer the guilt of the whole, ſhould not have been able to per⯑ceive any thing in all that hiſtory beſides acts of reſiſtance and revolt. I ſhall beg leave to remind his Lordſhip, that until this unfortunate period, that colony (Maſſachuſetts Bay) certainly never did take up arms againſt the Crown. It certainly did make ſome proviſion for the ſupport of his Majeſty's government. It certainly did raiſe ſums of money, and very large ſums too, at ſe⯑veral times, for the public ſervice. It certainly did ſpill a great deal of ſuch blood as it had to ſpill, in the quarrels of this country. The wealth of the colony was not equal to ours, nor their blood as noble as Lord Mansfield's. But there is an eye in which the widow's mite is not altogether diſregarded, and in which the blood of the yeoman is not without an account.

[84] This total omiſſion of every act of duty, fidelity, or affection, in ſettling the account even of this colony, is ſo far from being judicially fair, that in the light of mere hiſtory, it muſt be blamed as de⯑fective. If I had obſerved that extraordinary omiſ⯑ſion any where but in a ſpeech of Lord Mansfield, I ſhould have taken it for one of the worſt kinds of falſhood, ‘"a ſuppreſſion of truth."’ But that omiſſion being his, I am perſuaded it ariſes from any thing ſooner than an intention to deceive. I have heard that his Lordſhip, like other great lawyers in great practice, has frequently employed a brother of leſs fame, and leſs occupation at the Bar, in the capacity of, what the cant of Weſt⯑minſter-Hall calls, ‘"a Caſe Hunter,"’ or Searcher for Precedents. This more laborious than intelli⯑gent inſtrument, miſtaking Lord Mansfield's di⯑rections, and forgetting that his Lordſhip was a great parliamentary Judge, and not a retained advocate in a party cauſe, produced all the pre⯑cedents which could be uſeful towards eſtabliſh⯑ing the charge againſt the colonies, and accord⯑ing to his low idea of prudence, ſuppreſſed every thing which might make in their favour. I ſhould recommend to his Lordſhip inſtantly to diſmiſs his preſent Caſe Hunter, and to take ſome other into his ſervice who may be more capable of en⯑tering [85] into his real views, and of ſuſtaining the true dignity of his character.

In this plan of ſubſtituting hereditary diſaffec⯑tion as a ground for a war, in the room of taxa⯑tion the original object of it, but now abandoned, I have mentioned two capital errors. The one, that the charge is general, and the proof partial. The other, that the evil actions are ſtated, and the good omitted. I muſt beg leave to add a third, of perhaps as much moment as the other two.—That theſe things are charged as peculiar crimes to the colonies; which if they are faults, are faults of human nature in their circumſtances; and which, if we go on to conſider as crimes, and as grounds of war or of puniſhment, we can⯑not poſſibly enjoy any peace now or hereafter. I will endeavour to explain myſelf. In countries pretending to any degree of freedom, ſtruggles againſt exertions of power are not uncommon nor unnatural; and even claims of right on the part of the ſubject, ſometimes better, ſometimes worſe grounded, are not to ſurprize us. I ſuppoſe our whole civil hiſtory is made up of ſuch diſputes. If men of a certain deſcription were to be the judges, the people of England would be called to a ſevere account. Mr. Hume has paſſed judge⯑ment upon many of theſe claims, even thoſe claims which are now ſanctified by (what ſome ſtateſmen [86] think) the beſt of all arguments, Succeſs. That great author conſiders what we now deem the rights of the people, to have been formerly invaſions on the rights of the Sovereign; and the ſtruggles relative to them, he pronounces to have been conteſts, in which the Crown acted only on the defenſive.

It is no miracle if a colony, at ſuch an im⯑menſe diſtance, with ill defined rights, and under no trifling commercial reſtraints, ſhould, at one time or other, paſs ſome votes derogatory to the power of Parliament. Did Parliament itſelf at no time paſs votes derogatory even to its own rights? Did Parliament never compliment the Crown with the moſt ſacred rights of the people? On the other hand, did Parliament at no time ſhew a violent, diſorderly, and factious ſpirit in any of her proceedings?

I believe, if Lord Mansfield ſends his Prece⯑dent Hunter to the Journals of either, or both Houſes, to ſelect from ſuch votes matter to ground an attack on the rights of the people of England, as having at ſome period factiouſly abuſed, or ſervilely betrayed them, he will be ſupplied with far more abundant, and far leſs queſtionable matter for the purpoſe, than in the Journals, not ſimply of the Maſſachuſetts Aſſem⯑bly, but in all the Journals of that whole Conti⯑nent. [87] Yet if Parliament ſhould by any accident happen to come to a diſpute with the Crown, or (what is quite impoſſible) with the people, would it be fair to prove from theſe reſolutions, a long premeditated ſcheme in that body, either to rob the Crown of its rights, or to eſtabliſh an arbi⯑trary power in the King?

This learned Lord will conſider, on a re-hear⯑ing of this cauſe, that theſe aſſemblies are not permanent bodies. That for the greater part they have but a year's duration. That an Aſ⯑ſembly in ill-humour with their Governor, will paſs an angry reſolution, which one in a better temper totally diſregards; which is, in ſome time, entirely forgot; which is never acted upon, and never thought of by themſelves, or by any body elſe; until ſome ingenious perſons, being left deſtitute of any other pretext, chooſe to put toge⯑ther all theſe unconnected ſcraps, in order to make them an excuſe for deſolating the fineſt countries, and ruining the moſt flouriſhing commerce, by the cruel turpitude, and unprincipled vengeance of a piratical war.

That theſe kind of votes do not ſerve as regu⯑lar principles to influence the conduct of men, we know by our examples at home. Several dor⯑mant votes and reſolutions, which Lord Mansfield will neither act upon nor expunge, ſtill remain [88] on the Journals of that very Houſe where he ſo juſtly ſways with an unbounded authority. The Commons have deemed ſome of them highly de⯑rogatory to their rights. The Lords held them neceſſary to the rights of the ſubject, and to the preſervation of the law of the land. I ſpeak here of the reſolutions in the caſe of Aſhby and White on occaſion of the Ayleſbury election; yet though theſe votes ſtill remain on the Journals of the Houſe of Lords, who can accuſe the Houſe of Lords, at this day, of any attempt to ſupport the rights of the ſubject, or to aſſert the law of the land—againſt the pretenſions of the Houſe of Commons? Chief Juſtice Holt ſat on the very ſeat which Lord Mansfield now fills with ſo much more prudence. Holt countenanced thoſe proceedings of the Houſe of Lords; and indeed it was his ir⯑regular zeal for the law that firſt gave riſe to them. But is it fair, from thence to ſuppoſe Lord Manſ⯑field chargeable with theſe or any other irregular or blameable proceedings, or with the intemperate zeal of Chief Juſtice Holt?

For the preſent I ſubmit theſe few obſervations to thoſe gentlemen, who ſome time ago made war with ſo much eagerneſs to compel the Colonies to contribute to the ſupport of empire. They were then at war for taxes never to be obtained; let them take care that they are not now at war againſt [89] an independency that never has been attempted. They are on a buſineſs of blood;—let them be ſure that the evidence is ſufficient. They ſhall hear again upon this ſubject, which I take to be material to the public.

LETTER X.
IRISH INDEPENDENCE.

LORD Mansfield has been lately left alone in the Houſe of Lords. ‘"All the obliged have deſerted, and all the vain."’ He, who but a few days before, and with ſuch decided au⯑thority, had paſſed a bloody ſentence upon whole nations, has not been able to regulate the trial of one old woman^*. His judicial conflict was with a boy; and he was baffled. Theſe indications of ſome odd change, though they appear in ſlight matters, are warnings which a wiſe man will not diſdain to take. They ought, in ſome meaſure, to abate the pride of power, and the confidence in favour. They ought to ſupple the heart, and to make it ſuſceptible of the ſoft contagion of our nature. They ought to diſpoſe it towards a fa⯑vourable [91] hearing of millions of people, lately flouriſhing, opulent, peaceful, and happy, but now doomed to be the harraſſed and perſecuted object of eternal piracy, rapine, and devaſtation.

If Lord Mansfield ſhould be found thus ſof⯑tened towards an unfortunate, rejected branch of the Engliſh race, perhaps in ſome moments of humiliation ſo favourable to clemency, he might turn his eyes on the Engliſh ſtock itſelf. He might begin to ſuſpect, that the ſufferings of war cannot be confined to one ſide only; and that our own ſhare of theſe calamities may be worthy of ſome conſideration. He might feel the glory of burn⯑ing the petty fiſhing town, Falmouth in New-England, balanced by the taking of St. John's; he might think the ſtealing by Lord Dunmore, of a dozen or two of little, honey-combed, iron ſhip guns from a deſerted wharf in Virginia, of not quite ſo much importance as the loſs of Ca⯑nada. Though it is undoubtedly ſome comfort to inſult the few Provincial Officers we take, by throwing them with common men into a gaol; and ſome triumph to hold the bold adventurer, Ethan Allen, in irons in a dungeon, in Corn⯑wall; yet it may be thought not quite ſo pleaſant on the other had, to have the corps of Engliſh Fuzileers priſoners of war by capitulation, in Connecticut, though under the tendereſt treat⯑ment from a mild, humane, and generous con⯑queror. [92] The famine of Boſton (which will vie in hiſtory with that of Peruſia^*,) the waſte of camp diſtempers, the ſlaughter at Bunker's-Hill, the diſperſion of tranſports, the ocean covered with wrecks, our Hanoverian allies periſhing on the coaſt of France, before the eyes of thoſe whom they had lately helpt to defeat; the miſerable ruin of the finances of this kingdom, and that back⯑ſliding, which after twelve years peace, has let us down into that condition of debt, in which we were left at the end of a war with half Europe—All theſe conſiderations may, at a calm hour, riſe in an awful ſeries before Lord Mansfield; and, forcing one natural ſigh for the diſtreſſes of hu⯑manity, may diſpoſe him to liſten to an humble plea for peace. They may, perhaps, incline his ear to ſober enquiry, whether even an imperfect authority is not more eligible than a compleat war? and whether, all things conſidered, the ſpoils of America will be, in reality, ſo much a better thing than its commerce?

Lord Mansfield's argument againſt the preſent Colonies, from the votes of one of them in time paſt, was examined in my laſt letter.

I ſhall now take this buſineſs in another point of view. For a while I will go along with his Lordſhip. He ſhall have granted to him not only all, but much more than he aſſumes. I will al⯑low [93] that the Journals, not of one, but of all the aſſemblies, are full of factious reſolutions. Hav⯑ing for argument admitted this, I muſt beg leave to accompany my conceſſion with a matter of fact; which, though it will not at all excuſe ſuch con⯑tumacy in the Americans, it may abate ſome de⯑gree of that aſtoniſhment and indignation, which it ſeems to excite in a veteran politician, who has breathed the air of ſeventy winters in our climate, of clear and unclouded virtue.

The Twelve United Colonies have twelve po⯑pular aſſemblies. The number of Members they contain may be as large, within a trifle, as the Par⯑liament of Great Britain. They are probable about five hundred perſons. Will his Lordſhip aſk, what douceurs are diſtributed among the whole body of theſe Repreſentatives; I do aſſure him, on the ſtricteſt enquiry, I do not find that the twelve American Parliaments, and the whole five hundred men who compoſe them, receive among them all one fifth part of the value of what is held by one ſingle gentleman, whom I could name, in the Houſe of Commons.

It is not that the ſoil of the plantations does not yield the conſtitutional ſtaple of lucrative em⯑ployments. But theſe employments are almoſt all, with much more propriety, beſtowed in aid of a contracted Engliſh civil liſt, and as a ſup⯑port [94] and ſecurity to the independence of a Britiſh Parliament. They are certainly better beſtowed; for I have conſtantly obſerved, that all thoſe gentlemen who hold American employments, have been the moſt zealous of all others againſt the in⯑ſolent claims of the Coloniſts, and the moſt deter⯑mined reſiſters of that factious and intereſted ſpirit, which dares unnaturally to inſult ſo gracious and beneficent a government.

If we did not know to a certainty, that not a ſhilling is ſpent in England upon elections; and that the emoluments, ſo liberally diſtributed in Parliament, have no ſhare in producing any part of that complaiſance to government, which diſ⯑tinguiſhes our age, and puts to ſhame the ſtubborn ſpirit of our anceſtors, we might, inſtead of being aſtoniſhed at ſuch inſtances of oppoſition, be rather ſurpriſed, how it has happened, that in popular aſ⯑ſemblies ſo little managed, the oppoſition to govern⯑ment has not been greater, more frequent, more fierce, and more extenſive. So much rich com⯑poſt is laid upon the highly dreſſed, and produc⯑tive ſoil of a Britiſh Parliament, and ſuch atten⯑tion is beſtowed on its thorough cultivation, that theſe remote parts have been neglected, and ſuf⯑fered to ſhoot out all the wild weeds of a vigorous, but uncultivated nature. Except inſulting re⯑proaches, angry prorogations, ſudden diſſolutions, [95] rejected petitions, with now and then a challenge ^* to diſpute on the origin of government, I can find nothing that has been practiſed to ‘"tame the genius of the ſtubborn plain,"’ or to mollify the hereditary ſpirit of independency, that is charged upon the American Aſſemblies. Under ſuch indolent neglect, and ſuch churliſh attentions, I could not poſitively anſwer for the mellowneſs and tractability even of a civilized Britiſh Parlia⯑ment. I ſhould not however conclude, from ſome ſour humours in our Houſes of Parliament, that a barren independence was the object of their wiſhes; but that, like peviſh virgins, they longed for ſomething elſe.

Oppoſition to the authority of acts of Parlia⯑ment is not a thing new in the dependencies of this empire, nor confined to America. A denial of that authority in much greater extent, had once been very popular in Ireland. Molineux, one of their moſt celebrated authors, (a great natural philoſopher like Doctor Franklin) a friend and a correſpodent of Locke, wrote a book which is ſtill in requeſt. The object of this book is to prove, that England had no power to make any laws whatever to bind Ireland. The aſſertion is not limited to taxes; it is as broad and general as legiſlature it⯑ſelf on the largeſt plan. That book indeed was [96] burnt by the hands of the common hangman here; but the doctrines gained ſo much ground there, that the Judges who admitted appeals to England were perſecuted by the Iriſh Houſes of Lords and Commons with the greateſt rigour and aſperity, and obliged to fly in a body to England.

In conſequence of this a declaratory act was paſſed, aſſerting the ſupreme legiſlative authority of Great Britain. Nothing further was done. No troops were ſent, or employed to enforce obedience. Time was given for the public ferment to ſubſide. The appeal to the Houſe of Lords in England, was left to find its own way by its own utility; and utility effected that which force could not have effected. The Iriſh ſuitors found an advantage in a judicature removed from local affections and lo⯑cal prejudices. At the ſame time the Iriſh Par⯑liament was ſoothed, inſtead of being bullied. The leading intereſts were gained. The ſtubborn were ſoftened, and the angry pacified. By de⯑grees, as it was natural, the ſtorm was blown over. The Iriſh Parliament kept its reſolutions. England received its appeals. No harſh laws were paſſed for the purpoſe of a teſt. No tax was im⯑poſed for a trial of obedience. The queſtion of the right remains to this day open for the decla⯑mation of any gentleman in the Iriſh or Engliſh [97] Parliament, and is frequently uſed with great in⯑nocence, as the intereſt or whim of the orator on either ſide directs him.

In Ireland it was not only in votes and reſolu⯑tions of Parliament, that the authority of Great Britain has met with oppoſition. The reſiſtance to the trade laws by tumultuous violence, has been frequent and often ſucceſsful. Wool was and is carried off in great quantities; and great mobs have frequently deſtroyed imported goods in one of the principal cities of that kingdom; while other mobs intimidated officers from preventing an export of prohibited manufactures in the other. It is not long ſince the exportation of live cattle to England was prevented by violence; a violence at which the Magiſtrates of Ireland thought pro⯑per to wink. Parliament thought proper to wink, in its turn, at that violence and that neglect.

But if Parliament, on hearing of theſe diſor⯑ders, had directed the offending Iriſh ports to be blocked up, until the King ſhould think proper to open them: If, on the neglect of Magiſtrates (full as chargeable on Ireland as America) an Act of Parliament had violently ſubverted the corpo⯑rate rights of their cities: If, on the votes of the Iriſh Parliament, derogatory to the authority of the ſupreme legiſlature, they had violently changed the conſtitution of the ſecondary Parlia⯑ment: [98] If they had refuſed all peace to Ireland, until the baniſhed Judges had re-aſſumed their function, and until full compenſation was made to them for their loſſes,—there is no doubt that war alone would have ſettled our controverſy with Ireland, as it muſt, if we perſevere in the preſent meaſure, ſettle our controverſy with America.

To this hour the degree of ſubordination which Ireland owns, is altogether unaſcertained. Mi⯑niſters complain that America, in denying our right to tax, has not ſtated clearly the ſubmiſſion which ſhe admits to be due to the authority of Par⯑liament. But has Ireland ever recognized half ſo much as America does in her letter to the people of England? Is it true, that in the mean time ſhe is quiet, dutiful, and obedient; and ſhe is ſo, becauſe this recognition never was required? Her late moſt extraordinary complaiſance to the Clerk of the Pells, and to the Vice Treaſurers, thoſe profitable ſervants ^* of the public, ſhews that, in ſpite of her Journals, and the petulance of her progenitors, ſhe can prove as ſubſervient as can be wiſhed to the convenience of adminiſtration.

[99] Ireland gives largely to all public ſervices; and what is infinitely more important, to all private jobbs.—Why? Becauſe it is ſhe that gives, and not we that take.

Adminiſtration has lately furniſhed a ſignal proof of their own opinion of the wiſdom of en⯑forcing all the rights of the ſupreme legiſlature. It was but the other day (the beginning of this ſeſſion) that government applied to the Iriſh Par⯑liament for liberal grants, in order to ſupply very large deficiencies. One would ſuppoſe, from the doctrines of Lord Mansfield and his colleagues, concerning America, that the Miniſter in the Iriſh Houſe of Commons, in order to ſucceed, muſt have opened his Budget by an high aſſertion of the rights of the Engliſh Parliament to tax Ire⯑land; and that he had concluded by deſiring them, on the plan of Lord North's conciliatory motion, to furniſh ſuch a contingent to the ſupport of em⯑pire as Parliament here ſhould think proper. The proceeding of that ſucceſsful Miniſter was the direct reverſe. Inſtead of getting the Iriſh Houſe of Commons to acknowledge this right, he himſelf in effect diſclaimed it. He even denied, that the Engliſh Miniſtry ever had aſſerted it; and he deſcribed the ſpeeches on that ſubject in the Engliſh Houſe of Commons (though made by men in the greateſt offices) ‘"as nothing more than [100] the raſh language of inconſiderate individuals."’ ^* Having very wiſely diſclaimed authority, the Iriſh Miniſter ſucceeded by intreaty. If he had held the language there, which Engliſh Miniſters held to the Engliſh Colonies, the Parliament of that kingdom would hardly have been perſuaded to lend their troops in order to ſubdue Ireland in America. The only dependent part of the em⯑pire which is at peace, is at peace by Miniſtry's diſclaiming, not by enforcing our right.—The only revenue which is obtained, is obtained where the power of impoſing is renounced. So different, ſo very different, is unſubſtantial theory from ſound practice!

I flatter myſelf I have ſhewn, that the oppoſi⯑tion to the extent of parliamentary powers has not been confined to America. I have ſhewn, that the denial in Ireland was of a larger entent than that in America; and therefore a denial of a leſs extent (confined to the right to tax) could be no proof of a formed deſign of independency, on the part of the Colonies, if denial in a larger extent cannot convict Ireland of the ſame offence. I [101] have ſhewn that the Parliament of Ireland never made any formal acknowledgement of the power of this legiſlature to bind that kingdom; that the power of England there aroſe from our not puſh⯑ing every point; and that the aſtoniſhing obſe⯑quiouſneſs of Ireland at this hour, is owing to our not having made uſe of any one of thoſe me⯑thods of aſſerting authority, which have been re⯑commended and uſed in America. All this forms at leaſt a preſumption againſt the utility of ſuch methods.

I hope indulgence a little longer in this humble plea to Lord Mansfield, on the trial of America, for miſpriſion of independence. If in the end (what I will not imagine) the Judge ſhould give a harſh charge, the Jury of the public may poſſibly prove as refractory to the authority of Lord Mansfield, as the Houſe of Peers has been on a late occaſion; and though he directs them to convict, they may ſtill with ſome remains of Engliſh firmneſs, bring in the priſoner Not Guilty.

LETTER XI.
CRIMINAL INTENTIONS.

IT ſeems to be in the natural courſe of things, that men are very rarely brought to a ſenſe of guilt or folly, but through the medium of ſuf⯑fering. We are obliged to the Miniſtry for hav⯑ing placed us in this ſchool of wholeſome diſci⯑pline.

The miſconduct of the preſent war will by degrees lead the nation into a diſpoſition to en⯑quire into the juſtice of it. Never was a war more open to an impartial examination of its me⯑rits. No Glare of falſe glory in the execution of our American meaſures, has hidden the de⯑fects, or gilded over the errors of the original plan. We have only to pray, that our inſtruc⯑tion may not come too late for our amendment.

[103] I cannot eaſily quit the opinion, that however bitterly we may quarrel, there is ſtill ſuch a bot⯑tom of good nature, generoſity, and good ſenſe, both in the European and American part of the Engliſh nation, as will at length incline the one to hold out unequivocal, ſolid, honeſt terms of ac⯑commodation, and induce the other to meet thoſe terms (though late and ungracious in the offer) with a cordial and dutiful acquieſcence.

‘"The Americans are at war," (ſays Lord Mansfield, the great aſſertor of the plan of hoſ⯑tility) "they are acting on the offenſive—whe⯑ther we were right or wrong, we muſt proceed—we muſt add violence to violence, rigour to rigour—we are not to diſcriminate the inno⯑cent from the guilty—if we do not kill them, they will kill us."’

It is really ſingular that a man in the cool de⯑cline of life, bred through the whole courſe of it in a profeſſion of peace, a Civil Magiſtrate, a Judge, covered to the chin with judicial pur⯑ple, and bloodleſs unſpotted ermins, ſhould be diſtinguiſhed above all others, for a character of hazard and deſperateneſs in his counſels. Lord Mansfield's politics always ſtand upon a preci⯑pice. When he acted with others, in adviſing the late coercive meaſures, he alone was under no deluſion. His eyes were broad open to the con⯑ſequences. [104] Knowing that thoſe meaſures led inevitably to Civil War, he uſed the fatal ex⯑preſſion and auſpice of Caeſar, when he ſtood on the execrated brink of that ſtream, the croſſing of which brought ruin on his country. He told the Houſe of Lords in plain words, that ‘"they had now paſſed the Rubicon."’ This Year he exhorts them to puſh on that Civil War, in a manner ſcarcely different from the precedent of Caeſar's ^* ſpeech before the battle of Pharſalia. But we are not yet hardened by this inflamma⯑tory eloquence into ſuch black and decided en⯑mity, as to unfit us for a temperate examination of his cauſe and arguments. ‘"Kill them, or they will kill us!"’—Alas! my good Lord, Engliſhmen cannot chearfully accept this alter⯑native, which you are ſo good to offer, until we are thoroughly convinced, that to kill them is not mortally to wound ourſelves.

This military adage, ‘"Kill them, or they will kill us,"’ is as proper in the field of bat⯑tle, as it is miſplaced and dangerous in council. [105] When men have the bayonet to each other's breaſt, there is no time for reaſoning. But men deliberating at their eaſe, are not in that deſperate ſituation. It is not therefore neceſſary that they ſhould be animated with theſe deſpe⯑rate ſentiments. The buſineſs of the Stateſman, and that of the General, ought never to be con⯑founded. It is the Province of the latter to con⯑ſider only how War is to be made. It is the duty of the former ſometimes to conſider how war is to be ended. Reconciliation, treaty, negocia⯑tion, and conceſſion enter into the plan of the Stateſman, though not in the operations of the General. If Lord Mansfield's ſentiments ſhould prevail as maxims of policy, it would follow, that when men, upon whatever grounds, are driven to draw their ſwords, there muſt be no peace until one party or the other is exter⯑minated.

That learned Lord reſts much on the offenſive war undertaken by the Americans, in (what is called) the Invaſion of Canada. This he adduces as a proof of their deſign of independency. If war had been as much Lord Mansfield's ſtudy, as it ſeems to be his inclination, he muſt have perceived, that it never was, nor ever could be confined to ſtrict defence. The very idea is full of abſurdity. When war is once begun, the [106] manner of conducting it, will be ſuch as bids the faireſt for ſucceſs. It concludes nothing concern⯑ing the original motive for hoſtility, nor con⯑cerning the propriety or impropriety of making peace.

Theſe Things ſtand upon grounds totally dif⯑ferent; the deſire of independency, like every other motive to war, muſt be judged of by the proceedings previous to that event.

For inſtance, I can conceive a caſe, in which Scotland might take up arms, Scotland might de⯑fend the terms of the treaty of union, even againſt the unlimitable authority of Parliament, which that treaty, by ‘"a prepoſterous parade of civil arrangements,"’ certainly does affect to limit. I can conceive in argument, that acts of parliament might paſs to exclude the ſixteen Peers of Scotland from their ſeats in the Houſe of Lords—or to alter the preſent happy eſtabliſh⯑ment of the Church of Scotland—or to change her laws for thoſe of England—or on the plea of her increaſe of trade and wealth, to raiſe the proportion of their land-tax. I can conceive too the poſſibility, that many Murrays, many Humes, many Campbells, many Stuarts, many Wedderburnes, many Dundaſſes, and many El⯑liotts, might take up arms in favour of thoſe limitations of the power of Parliament, which [107] the act of Union affects to eſtabliſh; and not contenting themſelves with defending Sterling, and blocking up Edinburgh, they might enter England, and lay ſiege to Berwick, or penetrate to Newcaſtle. But I ſhould not therefore infer, that our Northern Kinſmen, who thus took up arms, were aiming at an independency, which would deprive ſo many of them of the well-earned emoluments, which are the conſequence of their connection with England.

If ſuch a caſe were to happen, I venture to aſ⯑ſure Lord Mansfield, that I, and many Engliſh⯑men of far other conſequence, would hear him plead in favour of peace, and for thoſe rebels in 1776, with as much approbation, as we felt when he pleaded for juſtice againſt other rebels in 1746. If any Lord, heated with faction, or intoxicated with Court favour, ſhould then tell him in debate, that Engliſhmen were not to look at the juſtice of the cauſe—that we muſt not diſtinguiſh the innocent from the guilty—that his countrymen had acted on the offenſive—that if we did not kill them, they would kill us!—we might pardon ſuch a Lord his prejudice, from our indulgence to his zeal; but we could never be brought to approve of his temper, or to adopt his opinions.

[108] If another Lord at the expence of his can⯑dour and judgement, ſhould chuſe to diſplay his knowledge in hiſtory, and recapitulate all the ravages of the Scotch from the earlieſt times; their natural adherence to our natural enemy, France; their fierce ſtruggles for independency, notwithſtanding the well-proved rights of our ancient Kings—If a third (for ſuch a load of calumny would be too great for the ſhoulders of any two ordinary orators) ſhould carry down the ſtory to the preſent day; if he ſhould ſtate the deſign of a ſeparate ſettlement of their crown in favour of the Pretender, from which their Chiefs were brought off with ſo much difficulty, and at ſo great an expence; if this odious remembrancer ſhould then revive the memory of the two rebel⯑lions ſince the act of Union, for the purpoſe of deſtroying that union, all this might ſound plau⯑ſible to ſome prejudiced ears; but I think in well diſpoſed minds, it would excite the ſtrongeſt in⯑dignation. I ſhould rejoice to hear the thunder of that eloquence which Lord Mansfield would certainly hurl at the unfeeling ſophiſtry of this unjuſt, invidious, and plauſible kind of ar⯑gument againſt peace. He would have the hearts and applauſes of all true Engliſhmen. True Engliſhmen would not fear that Scotland would be made ungovernable by our lenity; they [109] would readily truſt to the fraternal affection of our Scotch brethren for a reſtoration of laſting peace; and with it, the rich Commerce of that country, and the ſervice and ſociety of thoſe few of its natives, who might not think fit to repaſs the Tweed, to enjoy at home the ſweets of that liberty which their valour had purchaſed for their country.

In this manner I ſhould reaſon on a Scotch re⯑bellion growing from ſuch a principle. I mean a rebellion for preſerving themſelves in a ſtate of freedom; not a rebellion for the purpoſe of re⯑ducing themſelves and us to a common ſlavery. I cannot avoid applying the ſame reaſonings to America. I would endeavour to make peace with both on the avowed ground of the war; and I perſuade myſelf, that whatever the lan⯑guage of a few North-Britons about the Court, or expecting to get about the Court, may be, the body of the Scotch nation think and argue as I do.

I have no right to endeavour at diſcovering by divination the ſecret motives of any man's con⯑duct; whilſt the oſtenſible are ſuch as may fairly influence an honeſt and a reaſonable man. To ſupport in argument, that independency was the original object of American reſiſtance, we muſt aſſume, or prove, that they had no colourable [110] complaint or grievance. Lord Mansfield has too much honour and good ſenſe to aſſert, that there was nothing colourable or plauſible in their objection to their being taxed, in their circum⯑ſtances and ſituation, without their conſent. The practice on our ſide may, for aught I know, be reconciled to principles of ſtrict formal law; but we all know it can never be reconciled to any principles of liberty. The Queſtion is then, whether an attempt to govern them contrary to the principles of liberty, could be a real cauſe of quarrel, or was ſo idle and frivolous, as to oblige us to ſearch for ſome other ground of their conduct.

Whatever the firſt cauſe was, or whatever diſorders aroſe from it, the Americans did not go to extremities upon that. It is ſome proof of their not having premeditated a ſcheme of in⯑dependency, that they waited for ſeveral other grievances before they took up arms.

Boſton loſt its port, and the Colony of Maſſa⯑chuſett's Bay forfeited its Charter—juſtly ſays Lord Mansfield, but certainly without charge, evidence or hearing. Men conſider the right of being heard, as of ſome import in juſtice; if it be not, Lord Mansfield's office muſt become a finecure. Among other human frailties, men have a natural love for their local conſtitutions [111] and particular privileges. We muſt allow that (however merited) the loſs of a favourite form of Government will be conſidered and felt as a very great hardſhip. Nations have thought an arbitrary and compulſory change, even of ha⯑bits, to be grievous. A form of government changed, is a matter of ſomewhat more conſe⯑quence than the compulſory deprivation of a flapped hat at Madrid, or being ſtripped of the plaid, and forced into breeches in the ^* High⯑lands.

The bringing the perſons of the Americans to trial in England, by a revival and extenſion of a Statute of Henry the VIIIth; and the ſending them by an original act of George the IIId, to England, to look for juſtice on any ſoldier or Cuſtom-Houſe Officer who ſhould commit murder on their relation,—theſe have alſo ſomething of the air of a grievance. I ſhall ſay nothing of the [112] Act for preventing their Fiſhery, or of that for prohibiting all intercourſe between Colony and Co⯑lony,—all theſe have ſurely ſo much the air of hardſhips (I mean to thoſe who ſuffer under them) that I ſhould be much leſs ſurpriſed to find a people at length provoked to independency by ſuch acts, than I am to hear them accuſed of originally ſcheming that independency becauſe they reſiſted them. Men are not always ready to humble themſelves even before their Creator, and to acknowledge his puniſhments for tokens of loving-kindneſs. With men they are more in⯑clined to diſpute; and the arguments which per⯑fectly ſatisfy thoſe who are in haſte to inflict pu⯑niſhment, are not quite ſo convincing to thoſe who are to ſuffer it.

All thoſe laws (which look ſevere even in cold reading) preceded the commencement of hoſtilities, offeſinve or defenſive. It is not true, that a deſire of free ſubjection is in nature the ſame thing with a ſcheme of independence; and we may ſuppoſe men earneſt to preſerve privileges, without rejecting government.

The Colonies, like others who have engaged in wars with their Sovereign, had therefore their grievance. But there the likeneſs ſtops; for there are perhaps no inſtances on record of a people in ſuch a ſituation, who have perſevered [113] with ſuch a pertinacious humility, in repeating their ſupplications for redreſs. There are few or no inſtances of men in arms againſt the ordinary Authority, who have ſo long confined their applications ſolely to their own ſovereign. Scarce any, where they have religiouſly avoided all caballing and tampering with foreign Powers. None where they have ſo nobly paid their debts to the commerce of that power, with which they were at war. Whatever power we have of ſub⯑ſiſting without them, or of acting againſt them, is owing in a great meaſure to their deſire of avoid⯑ing a final rupture with us. Men aiming at independency could never have acted in this man⯑ner.

Why, in common ſenſe, ſhould we be more irritated againſt the Coloniſt than againſt other nations? or why ſhould we uſe other rules to prevent pacification, than we uſe towards a foreign power? I ſhould be glad to know whether this mode of reaſoning concerning old delinquency, or modern ill deſign, was adopted at the late treaty of Paris? Did the late Duke of Bedford's inſtructions oblige him to a diſcuſſion of the mo⯑tives of France and Spain for half a century back? I don't find that our Court has received any ſatisfaction on that head. If the zeal and in⯑duſtry [114] of Sir John Dalrymple, or Mr. Macpherſon have made any diſcovery in this curious mode of negotiation, they will favour the world with a new quarto volume for the information of future Stateſmen. In the mean time, I muſt think, that I do Juſtice to the late Duke of Bedford (a Man of ſenſe, and a good practical man of buſineſs) in ſuppoſing that he troubled himſelf with no idle enquiries that could obſtruct the work of pacifica⯑tion. I do not hear that Lord Mansfield has ever accuſed that Duke of a neglect duty.

But we muſt not treat with Rebels! What hiſ⯑tory is it that ſupplies us with this maxim? Lord Mansfield will allow, that the war againſt Charles the Firſt was a rebellion; Lord Claren⯑don, I believe, ſtiles it by pre-eminence the great rebellion,—does the hiſtory of that time ſupply us with no treaty between Charles the Firſt and the people in arms againſt him? Go to earlier times. How was the conteſt between Stephen and Henry? Stephen was conſidered as an uſur⯑per, and perhaps he was ſo. He treated Henry's partizans as rebels; but theſe harſh names of Rebel and Uſurper never prevented negotiation. Treaty and battle went on, as it were, hand in hand; and at laſt the conteſt ended in a com⯑promiſe.

[115] The ſhort and violent rebellion of Wat Ty⯑ler, ſhort as it was, yet afforded time for treating, and that too by the King in perſon. Does the Scotch Hiſtory ſupply no inſtances of treaties between the rebellious Lords and their Kings? All hiſtories are full of them. Government often finds it ſafer to treat with her ſubjects, and to yield too, than to riſk the uncertain event of arms.

But in all wars foreign or civil, in all diſ⯑putes public or private, it is utterly impoſſible to terminate a controverſy while one of the litigant parties chuſes to aſſume a ſort of ſupernatural ta⯑lent of diſcovering the motives of mens actions; and loftily tells his adverſary, ‘"I dont value your offers and profeſſions. I know you mean what you dont ſay; and I will not treat with you on the avowed and apparent cauſe of the quarrel, until my curioſity is ſatisfied upon the ground of a ſuſpicion which I am reſolved to entertain."’ I am perſuaded that this learned Lord would not argue ſo inconcluſively, or waſte his breath upon a point not in iſſue, if the real object of Miniſtry was to terminate the diſpute. What his Lordſhip's object is, I who take the liberty of complaining of his faculty of divination, and who am, by no means, pro⯑vided with the endleſs line of his ſagacity in fathom⯑ing [116] the motives of men, do not at all know,—and certainly dare not gueſs. But the effect of the conduct of his friends in pertinaciouſly con⯑tinuing and weakly conducting a war without an object, will inevitably operate to the diſmember⯑ment of the Britiſh Empire.

LETTER XII.
THE GAZETTE.

IN my paper of the 20th of January laſt, I com⯑pleated, to the beſt of my power, the little plan I had originally formed. I had propoſed to take a view of the policy of the American war; its objects; its conduct; and the motives for en⯑gaging in it. When this was done, being no po⯑litician by profeſſion, I laid down my pen. I re⯑ſume it for a moment, in order to make a few re⯑marks upon the manner in which the Miniſtry have handled their's. I have formerly endea⯑voured to do juſtice to their merit as Stateſmen; I am now to conſider their ſkill as writers.

As all men have their virtues a little balanced by ſome failings, it is ſurely a good-natured part not to dwell upon the qualities they are deficient [118] in, but rather to fix our attention on thoſe points of their character, in which they evidently excell. I ſhould think it the cruelleſt thing in the world to dwell upon Lord George Germain's conduct of the civil war; but I am happy to join with the world in applauding his Lordſhip's dexterous ma⯑nagement of the Gazette.

Whilſt under his auſpices, and animated by his example, our commanders, by happily ſhifting of their poſition, by taking the reſolution of eva⯑cuating towns, and by effecting retreats without loſs, are (though quite in a new way) conquering Provinces abroad; his Lordſhip is employed, ac⯑cording to the ſoundeſt principles of the beſt cri⯑tics, in recording their great exploits at home.

Livy has been cenſured as diffuſe; Salluſt, Thu⯑cydides, and Tacitus, have been criticized for an affected brevity, bordering on the obſcure. Theſe general remarks ſavour of pedantry, and meer li⯑terary cant. To judge of the faults or excellence of the diffuſe, or the conciſe, of the perſpicuous, or the obſcure ſtyles, we muſt conſider well the nature of the ſubject, and the deſign of the au⯑thor. No univerſal rule can be laid down. Some things cannot be diſplayed too amply, and too minutely to the public curioſity. Others had bet⯑ter be juſt touched upon. Some ſhould ſhine in a glare of light; others ſhould be caſt modeſtly into [119] the ſhade. Some ought to be proclaimed by the ſound of trumpet; others there are, in which ſilence is the real eloquence.

If you would know how well Lord George Germain has employed all theſe ſtyles (and this no ſtyle) you muſt conſider the end and purpoſe for which (beſides fame and immortality) a Secretary of State condeſcends to become an author.

The world at large is not aware of the real ob⯑ject of our war in America. The ſole drift and end of all our operations there, has hitherto been, neither more nor leſs, than to diſpoſe of the ſums of money that have been raiſed here. Theſe have been vaſt; and the diſperſion of them has not been ſo perfectly eaſy, as the common run of people might imagine. But, by the aid of our kind and diſintereſted friends, (the London contractors, and the German Princes) the thing may be done. The facility however, of the expenditure, may not always facilitate the ſupply. A great Stateſman, like other ingenious artiſts, muſt tickle the ear, whilſt he extracts the purſe. The mob out of doors love a little good news, though it be at their own coſt. A victory is worth a million; and a good bonfire compenſates a tax. The wiſe Miniſ⯑ter (like the induſtrious ant) forecaſts the winter, and prepares the mind for the ways and means of the ſeſſion, by the intelligence with which he en⯑tertains [120] us during the receſs. In the execution of this plan, he ſtrictly follows the great maſters of an⯑tiquity.

The polite critic of the Court of Auguſtus, Horace, was intended by that great Emperor (not ſo happy in obtaining obedience to his commands as our Sovereign) for the office of ^* Secretary of State. Whilſt that buſineſs was in agitation, he wrote thoſe excellent rules for Gazettes, which have been unaccountably miſtaken for the rules of dramatic poetry. A groſs error! for what has a Secretary of State to do with writing tragedies? Or how can we imagine that Horace, after com⯑manding a Roman legion, and diſtinguiſhing him⯑ſelf in war, ſhould condeſcend to undertake the direction of the opera? The Gazette is the pro⯑per buſineſs of his department. Beſides the ob⯑ſervations on ſtyle that I have juſt made, and which I confeſs I borrowed from this great judge, he makes ſeveral others of moment. He adviſes his Gazette writer to mix his falſhood with ſome truth, ita mentitur (ſays he) ut veris falſa remiſcet. And he gives his reaſon, and a very ſolid one,

[121] He recommends it to them to put off, and to bring on matters, as may beſt ſuit political purpoſes.

But if facts prove ſo very untractable, as by no art of mixture or procraſtination, to be made pleaſant, why then he thinks they are to be totally omitted.

To exemplify in the moſt ſatisfactory manner his Lordſhip's ſkill in conducting his Gazette upon theſe rules, the reader may remember the ample account we had of the exploits of Lord Dunmore. Not one captive piece was omitted of thoſe miſer⯑able old cannon, which, until they were to ‘"open their mouths, and ſhew forth his praiſe,"’ had ſlept and ruſted in neglect on the wharfs of Virgi⯑nia. All the pompous diſplay of Livy and Cla⯑rendon, were employed to decorate the triumph of this favourite General. After this great and de⯑ciſive advantage obtained by Lord Dunmore (as far as we could diſcover from the Gazette) we had nothing to do, but to take poſſeſſion of a diſarmed Province. The gratitude of the nation was equal to the ſervices of the General. His Lordſhip was immortalized in the Gazette. He was adopted [122] into the ſacred ſixteen, levees, aſſemblies, coffee⯑houſes, all agreed (and they were certainly right) that if every Governor had acted with the ſpirit of Lord Dunmore, we muſt have eſtabliſhed our do⯑minion in all the other Provinces, as perfectly as we had done in Virginia^*.

In the midſt of all the joy that aroſe from ſuch important victories as Lord Dunmore's, ſo amply diſplayed, an odd ſort of an account arrived. A very brave officer, as brave and as intelli⯑gent an officer as any in the King's ſervice, Major Fordyce, with a detachment of our beſt grena⯑diers, was ſent by this heroic Commander Lord Dunmore, upon a well-planned expedition, to which there were but two ſmall objections. One, that it was perfectly impracticable; the other, that if it did ſucceed, it could be of no kind of uſe. Accordingly Major Fordyce was killed. The party was defeated; all the grenadiers ſlain or made priſoners—What ſaid the lately communi⯑cative Gazette? Not a ſyllable. The Secretary of State had waſted his ſtock of eloquence in his Panegyric on Lord Dunmore. He had nothing [123] left for the funeral oration of Fordyce. He was as ſilent as the grave in which that gallant officer and his brave ſoldiers were laid. And where was the neceſſity for much diſcourſe? The man was dead; and what did it ſignify to put ourſelves into an ill humour about what we could not poſ⯑ſibly help.

This Virginian hiſtory is an inſtance of the dif⯑fuſed ſtile of the Gazette, contraſted with the op⯑poſite extreme of excellence,—the expreſſive and eloquent ſilence. The inſtances of a leſs violent, but equally judicious contraſt, are frequent, and happily mixed in. I will endeavour to recall them to the reader's memory. Without ſuch a retroſpect it will not be eaſy to enter into the true ſpirit of this exquiſite politico-literary performance, which is now the ſole ſource of authentic intelli⯑gence, and the only vehicle of our ſummer's de⯑light and information.

^*When the forts of St. John and Chamblé were taken by the Provincials, and upwards of 500 regular troops made priſoners, there was a demand for the compact, cloſe, laconic, ſtyle. The Gazette did not altogether omit theſe events; but with a wonderful energy and brevity, related them in much fewer lines than the ſhorteſt article of the capitulation, by which thoſe unhappy troops [124] had ſurrendered priſoners of war. Of cannon and ſtores, not one word. Theſe were left to the imagination of the reader. All accounts of the taking of cannon, in the explicit ſtile, belonged, excluſively, to Lord Dunmore.

We may remember too, that when Arnold made the aſtoniſhing march, which will for ever immortalize his name, the Gazette was not ab⯑ſolutely ſilent. It gave to merit one honeſt line; and in the laconic brevity of Lord George Ger⯑main, ‘"one Arnold appeared at Point Levi^*."’

Of the taking of Montreal, which place with the whole ſtrength of England and America con⯑joined, had formerly given glory and Peerage to Lord Amherſt—on the part of the Gazette SILENCE;—Col. Preſcot, his ſhips, his ſoldiers, his ſtores taken afterwards—SILENCE.

This uniformity of ſilence, however prudent, and even chaſtly eloquent, might ſeem rather dull, and at length begin to diſguſt. People might learn an ugly habit of looking elſewhere for intelligence. In this diſtreſs an event hap⯑pened, which juſtified the drawing up the flood⯑gate, and letting out all that flow of eloquence which had been ſo long dammed in. Montgomery, an obſcure man, of whom we had heard nothing before from authority, was killed at Quebec, and [125] his troops repulſed. But unfortunately, even on this faireſt of all occaſions, we were again ſadly at a loſs. This happy opportunity was in danger of being wholly thrown away. The queſtion aroſe, where is the authority for this good news? The conquering General was too cloſely blocked up, to ſend a meſſenger of the deciſive victory he had obtained. To take intelligence from the Philadelphia news papers, and to put at the foot of the account, ‘"Charles Thompſon,"’ (not our Sir Charles) and ‘"by order of the Congreſs,"’ was too much. In effect, it was to regiſter a rebellious libel among the conſecrated records of office. This was hard undoubtedly.

The difficulty ſtaggered the American Secretary of State. In an hurry a council is called. The Attorney General, in his firm, ſturdy, direct way, objected to the meaſure, He relied on it, that ſuch a ſtep might teach people to put ſome truſt in rebellious publications; and would, be⯑ſides, totally take away the beſt, and ſometimes only excuſe we had for our prudent reſerve on moſt of our defeats, viz. that we had them only from the narrative of the rebels. This had ſome weight. But Mr. Weddurburne, whoſe forte is dexterity and refinement, obſerved, that the Congreſs, as they are a raw, new government, and to that time unacquainted with diſgraces, had [126] not learned the art of gloſſing a misfortune, but had delivered ‘"a plain round, unvarniſhed tale"’ of their defeat. This advantage is not to be miſſed. Here (ſaid Mr. Wedderburne) we may di⯑late at the expence of an enemy. The narrative, as far as it goes, is their own; and our imagi⯑nation is at liberty to add full enough on this foun⯑dation. We cloath ourſelves with the ſpoils of the enemy. We may dreſs ourſelves ‘"à la Con⯑grèſs."’

Lord George carried it for his friend the Solici⯑tor's opinion. The Philadelphia Congreſs Ga⯑zette ſupplied the materials for our's; and here, (but at their expence) we expatiated again. The ſtunted Gazette once more ſhot out into a full luxuriance of narrative.

This mode, however, of borrowing an enemy's account is too tickliſh to be adopted as a regu⯑lar practice. Then came in the great delicate point in all human affairs, ‘"to know when to leave off."’ For, unluckily thoſe exotic Congreſs News-papers began to ſhoot out ſome things that would not bear tranſplanting, and were not at all adapted to flouriſh in the ſoil of the London Ga⯑zette. [127] The taking, for inſtance, of Brigadier General Macdonald in North Carolina—the kil⯑ling Colonel Macleod—the defeat of 1500 of our Highland troops, and the diſarming of the whole party;—although all undeniably true—was not proper ſtuff for a London Gazette.—The expedition of General Schuyler into the Indian country, although equally certain—the capitula⯑tion of Sir John Johnſon—the making him a priſo⯑ner on parole—the ſubmiſſion and laying down their arms by 600 of our loyal ſubjects (Scots and Tories) and the compelling ſome of our natural allies, the humane Savages of the Five Nations, to lay down the hatchet—theſe accounts, one ſees at firſt ſight, could by no art be made fitting for the Gazette. Of theſe, therefore, nothing was ſaid.

The end of writing is et prodeſſe et delectare. In a paper where the profit of Miniſters, and the delight of the people, were to be the great objects, it would be a piece of downright abſurdity to men⯑tion ſuch things as cannot poſſibly tell to the ad⯑vantage of the one of the parties, or afford any ſort of ſatisfaction to either of them.

Mr. Miller, I find it impoſſible to do juſtice to the merits of Miniſters, as Hiſtorians of their own exploits, in a ſingle paper. The ſubject grows upon me, as the matter riſes in dignity, and importance. Reſerving therefore the inimi⯑table [128] beauties of the Boſton narrative to another time, I ſhall for the preſent ſatisfy myſelf with re⯑marking, that the naval part of the war, though probably it comes from another quarter, is related on the ſame principle, and with no leſs perfection than that, which is carried on upon the Terra firma.

One of our men of war returns home rather in a ſhabby condition. But what does ſhe come home for? In reality to bring the news of her own eſcape from the Americans. Since our af⯑fairs are in that pleaſant ſituation, that retreats are happy ſhiftings of poſition, and, that eſcapes are to take rank as victories, it becomes neceſſary to diſplay this eminent advantage at full length; and it is accordingly related at large in the true technical ſtyle, and with all the elegant perſpi⯑cuity of the nautical dialect. The Gazette, ſo lately on the reſerve, here becomes prodigal of information. We have, on the eſcape of the Glaſ⯑gow (for the firſt time) an account of Com⯑modore Hopkins's ſquadron; the number of veſ⯑ſels; the number of guns; the number of men; an account as exact as if we were furniſhed with it from the Navy Office of Philadelphia. The ſtate of the Britiſh Navy was refuſed on the motion of a Marine officer in Parliament, laſt ſeſſion. Amends are now made by a preciſe detail (given gratis) of one of the American Fleets. We have the ſatis⯑faction [129] to find that this navy is in ſhoal water, (but ſafe enough) in New England. In the late war, the eſcape of one of our ſtout frigates, built and furniſhed for war, from a little ſquadron, con⯑ſiſting of a decayed merchantman, with a ſloop and ſchooner or two, haſtily and ill fitted into privateers, would ſcarce have deſerved a long laboured account in the Gazette. But things are altered; Mr. Pitt was, Lord George Germaine is, Secretary of State.

In this laſt piece we are furniſhed at one and the ſame time with a curious example of the various excellencies of the full diſplay, and of the judi⯑cious reſerve. The Gazette, which knows ſo minutely every gun in Hopkins's fleet, and its weight of metal, ſays nothing at all of this fellow's carrying his convoy, and the military ſtores with which he was heavily laden, ſafely to the place of their deſtination: Nor does it know, that he had taken a tranſport and tender in his Majeſty's ſervice. It even omits a piece of good fortune of the Glaſ⯑gow, whoſe ſhot in the very firſt broadſide damag⯑ed Hopkins's rudder in ſuch a manner, that his ſhip lay for two hours incapable of purſuit or fight.

To compleat this account of the American Re⯑gatta, made for our ſpecial amuſement; by the ſame uſe of light and ſhade in the narrative, we are informed that a great number of ſhips and [130] veſſels have been taken. By this judicious choice of terms, the number is as effectually ſwelled by the ſeizure of a cock boat, as by the taking of the largeſt ſhip that ever ſailed in the Virginia trade.

As to captures made on the part of the Ameri⯑cans, we might conclude from the prudent ſilence of the Gazette, that there were abſolutely none. If it were not for an impertinent tell-tale in the city, called Lloyd's Liſt, (who, in all good policy ought to be ſilenced) we ſhould never have gueſſed that above FIFTY tranſport ſhips had been taken by the Americans; ^* the ſhips themſelves, ex⯑cluſive of the cargoes, of as much value at leaſt as the whole of the prizes taken from the Ameri⯑cans.

In a word, whether by land or ſea, we are ſcarcely intitled from authority to believe, that one misfortune has happened in the whole war. All is Glory, Succeſs, and Victory. Yet Thirteen Provinces are loſt.

LETTER XIII.
SHIFTING OF POSITION.

THE emiſſion of authoriſed news-papers is an homage paid by the moſt deſpotic powers to public opinion. By the ſending abroad Gazettes, they tacitly, but fully admit two very material points. Firſt. the right of the people to be informed of the ſtate of national affairs. Se⯑condly, the influence of popular judgement on their own fortune. They know it would be an enterpriſe too deſperate, to think of keeping the people wholly in the dark.

We are apt to entertain rather too mean an opi⯑nion of the ſpirit and underſtanding of our neigh⯑bours. There is not a nation in Europe ſo ſer⯑vilely paſſive, as to abandon all concern about its own welfare; and to give a credit abſolutely un⯑limited [132] to its adminiſtration. It is true, that the people under deſpotic governments, have it not in their power to take a legal vengeance on thoſe who abuſe their truſt, or to remove thoſe who ſhew themſelves unequal to it. This is the grand defect of their ſcheme of government. But na⯑ture ſometimes ſupplies the place of law, and their illegal ſenſibility frequently takes a ſevere vengeance on thoſe, who confiding in the weak⯑neſs and imperfection of the conſtitution of their country, preſume to act in violation of the ſpirit of all laws. Even when ſuch a people are not able to puniſh an unſkilful ſtate actor, their voice is generally ſufficient to explode, and hiſs him from the public ſtage.

We have ſeen not long ago, that the ſame King of Spain, who with an high hand protected, pro⯑moted, honoured, and rewarded Don Franciſco Bucarelli, although he was impeached of high crimes and miſdemeanors, even from the throne of Great Britain itſelf, was obliged to diſmiſs and baniſh the Marquis of Squillace, his Favourite and Prime Miniſter, to appeaſe the diſcontents of the people of Madrid. The ſame King was but the other day obliged, on account of the diſplea⯑ſure of his ſubjects, to diſmiſs and remove from Court the Condé O'Reilly, a Miniſter and a [133] General high in his favour, upon his failure in an enterprize againſt Algiers.

The King of France, on the diſcontent of a part of his people, and the ill ſucceſs of ſome financial projects, diſmiſſed, Monſieur Turgot, as he had raiſed that Miniſter, to gratify the opinion of his ſubjects.

Miniſters in other countries finding themſelves obliged to humble their pride before their neceſ⯑ſities, do not venture to keep all information from the people. On the contrary, they affect to ſup⯑ply them with it very liberally, and very honeſtly. Poſſeſſed of the only ſource of authentic intelli⯑gence, they indeed gloſs and varniſh, but never attempt groſly to miſrepreſent, much leſs wholly to conceal. Even at Conſtantinople, the Miniſter ſtands in awe of public opinion. Not having a preſs there, the government keeps in its pay a ſet of walking Gazettes (ſomewhat like our Court runners) who mount on a ſtool in Coffee-houſes, and entertain their grave turban'd hearers with an account of the deſigns of the Court of Peterſburgh, or the progreſs of the rebellion in Egypt.

As a nation declining from greatneſs is the moſt mean, and a people ſinking from freedom are the moſt eminently ſervile, our Miniſters think this is a fit ſeaſon for an experiment, to find out the maximum of human patience, ſubmiſſion, and [134] paſſive-obedience. Their proceedings in the Ga⯑zette, with regard to the late war in New-Eng⯑land, ſhew what progreſs they have made in that experiment.

From the begining of our preſent troubles, our hopes and fears were all engaged at Boſton. This was the heart and vital ſpring of all diſorder. It was not ſo much the metropolis of America, as the head-quarters of rebellion. Boſton accord⯑ingly became the object of all our civil regula⯑tions for ſeveral ſeſſions, and of all our mili⯑tary operations for two years together. Our eyes were never a moment turned from it. Expecta⯑tion panted on every Weſtern breeze—when the Gazette ſuddenly announced to a longing and anxious people, that General Howe had taken a reſolution to evacuate Boſton, and was actually on his way to Halifax. Habituated as we are to every thing extraordinary, the eaſy brevity of this account did excite ſome degree of ſurpriſe. There was nothing in it which could give you the leaſt idea of war, or warlike operations. It was deli⯑vered with as eaſy and careleſs an air, as if the ſtory was nothing more than that a corps had changed their country quarters; juſt as if General Howe's regiment had ſhifted their quarters from Boſton in Lincolnſhire, to Halifax in Yorkſhire. And this is all the ſatisfaction that the nation has ever [135] yet received for ſix millions expended, and the laſt town in thirteen Provinces loſt.

Lord George Germain's experiment on the temper of the people of England was made, and it anſwered. This proud and jealous nation bore that treatment with a patience, that would have ſhamed the hired credulity of contented cuck⯑oldom. Thoſe who would have impoſed Ovid's Metamorphoſes for articles of faith, never pre⯑ſumed ſo much upon the weakneſs of the human underſtanding. A more perfect paſſive-obedience was never preached by intereſted prieſts, for the practice of the credulous laity. A Turk, blinded with the ſmoke of tobacco, and dozed with opium, would have puſhed his live Gazette from his ſtool, and kicked him out of the Coffee-houſe, if he had dared to give this account of the evacuation of Ockzakow or Bender. Even the foreign Ga⯑zettes, ſkilled and practiſed as they are in the trade and myſtery of intelligence, ſtood in aſto⯑niſhment at the bold puſh of their dear brother of Whitehall; and publicly avowed their amaze⯑ment at this new political phaenomenon.^*

That noble and venerable body, in which a Miniſter of State^† lately boaſted that he had con⯑cealed from them, and from his own colleagues, [136] the true ſtate of their affairs, leſt they ſhould be ſlow in entering into a civil war, they of courſe deſired to know nothing. They looked on the proceedings of their Miniſter, as on the feats of Mr. Breſlaw, in which a knowledge of the ſlight would only ſpoil their pleaſure in the deception. Both Houſes are coolly and deliberately acting their part in this great work. Declaring them⯑ſelves totally indifferent about every part of pub⯑lic duty, and even deſtitute of common human feelings, they are preparing to make their coun⯑try as indifferent about the exiſtence of Parliament itſelf. Several worthy and diligent Members al⯑ready ſhew themſelves heartily tired of parliamen⯑tary attendance. They imagine, that with their talents they might get as much under any other form of government as under this, with an at⯑tendance leſs fatiguing, and a far lighter expence. They think a Miniſter's levee room, has as whole⯑ſome an air as St. Stephen's chapel; and that the domeſtics of a Court Favourite, are a cheaper ob⯑ject of bribery, and full as worthy an object of adulation, as the ſcot and lot of a venal borough. Perhaps they may be in the right.

On occaſion of this real Gazette Extraordinary, the Earl of Suffolk, one of his Majeſty's princi⯑pal Secretaries of State, diſcovered ſome marks of good breeding; though he does not come quite [137] up to all the graces which Lord Cheſterfield re⯑quires as qualifications to office. He has, I ſup⯑poſe, ſome remains of complaiſance to that mino⯑rity, in which he made ſo flaming a proteſt againſt his preſent aſſociates. In condeſcenſion to the weakneſs of the Lords in oppoſition, he ſubmitted to tell them the reaſon why he told them nothing. He lamented in the moſt pathetic ſtrains to his noble audience, the neceſſity he was under of not producing any part of General Howe's letter; for (he ſaid) "the account of the retreat was ſo mixed with matters that went before, and operations which were to follow after (very improper to be publicly known) that he could not poſſibly diſen⯑tangle them; and that thus he was diſabled from doing juſtice to the incomparable merits of the General, who had made ſo happy ‘"a ſhifting of po⯑ſition."’

Every thing has its place, and in the Houſe of Lords this gave ſatisfaction. We the rabble be⯑low the bar, however, thought it odd; that what had paſſed before General Howe's retreat ſhould be concealed from us, ſince it could never have been concealed from the enemy. Perhaps what went before, might be the cauſe of the retreat that followed after. If indeed this preceding cauſe ſhould conſiſt in ſome batteries too fierce to be borne, and too ſtrong to be forced, this I admit [138] was a good reaſon for concealment. We ought not to know that the rebels have any cannon ſince Lord Dunmore ſeized all their artillery; or that they know how to erect batteries, or that they have courage to defend them.

The other part of the reaſon for concealing the account of General Howe's retreat, I muſt beg leave to obſerve, is not quite ſo honourable to the clearneſs of head of that General, or demon⯑ſtrates ſo fully as one could wiſh, the calm ſitua⯑tion of one who makes an undiſturbed retreat. So perplexed and involved (if we believe Lord Suffolk) was General Howe's account, that the Secretary of State's office, in full practice of gar⯑bling papers for the diverſion of Parliament, was not able to unravel the complicated texture of the commentaries of our American Caeſar, or to give one particular of his proceedings for ſeveral months to the hour of his departure, without diſcloſing all the ſecrets of the coming campaign.

With all due deference to my Lord Suffolk, I do not believe ſo ill of the abilities either of Ge⯑neral Howe, or of his Lordſhip. I can never be⯑lieve the alledged confuſion of General Howe's ideas, to be the real reaſon for concealing from us every ſingle circumſtance of his precipitate de⯑reliction of the precious purchaſe of millions. His Lordſhip told the Peers, that this confuſion diſ⯑abled [139] him from doing juſtice to General Howe's merits. Under favour there was no queſtion of that General's merits. We are very ſure that He did his duty, and that He gave an account of it naturally and clearly. This concealment was ne⯑ver for his ſake, or the ſake of his operations. But for whatever purpoſe this account of Lord Suffolk's was given, it could anſwer no rational end. If we could believe this account, the friends of the war would be obliged to entertain but gloomy hopes of its future ſucceſs. Partial as they are to the authors of civil contention, they muſt condemn the Miniſter for committing the fortune of their pious quarrel into ſuch hands. To admit their plea in the juſtification of their Gazette, is to find a verdict againſt the wiſdom of their Cabinet.

No ſooner had that Gazette notified to us that General Howe had taken this reſolution, than we were entertained with verbal comments upon it, more curious than the original text. The Mini⯑ſtry aſſumed a face of joy equal to that which would have attended the moſt deciſive victory. As ſoon as Boſton was evacuated, Boſton at once changed its nature. It no longer ſtood under the ſame parallel of latitude. It then became the worſt choſen ſpot on the whole continent for the operations of war. We were too happy in getting [140] rid of it. The Americans were anew charged with cowardice for letting us eſcape. The Lords publicly congratulated each other on having ſhaken off ſo intolerable a yoke.

In this exultation they forgot one trifling cir⯑cumſtance, which ſomewhat regards their credit for the preſent; and may perhaps a little affect their ſafety on ſome future day of account. Sup⯑poſe a ſpirit of enquiry ſhould ariſe, and it ſhould be aſked, who were they who brought his Ma⯑jeſty's army into a place from whence it was a tri⯑umph to eſcape? If Boſton was not a ſpot worth holding for its own ſake, or for its convenience for other operations, why did the troops continue there for near two years? Why were they rein⯑forced day after day, and regiment after regiment, for the defence of that place, until they amount⯑ed to upwards of 12,000 men? Why were four Generals ſent to command them? Why was the Ordnance Office emptied to defend Boſton? Why was the ſinking fund ſwallowed up, only by its military extraordinaries, which amounted to up⯑wards of 850,000l.? Why were 60,000 ton of tranſports employed in that ſervice? Why was this nation almoſt ſtarved to feed that town? Why was a fleet commanded by a ſucceſſion of Britiſh Admirals, and at an incredible expence ſtationed in its harbour? Why was ſo much brave blood ſhed [141] at Bunker's-Hill to prevent its being inſulted? Every ſhilling ſpent at Boſton is a peculation of public money; every life loſt there is a cruel murder, if Boſton was not a place worth preſerv⯑ing. To exhauſt yourſelf in defence of an object that is not worth having, or not to take ſufficient means of defending an object of real value, are both of them crimes. If there be any difference, the firſt crime is the worſt; as it is worſe wholly to miſtake the end, than to miſcalculate the means. It is, however, for this capital blunder, that the Miniſters claim the applauſes of their country. According to this rule, the merit of our Generals is to eſcape from the place where the providence of our Miniſters had ſtationed them; no hopes are entertained by themſelves of the war, if all its plans are not wholly reverſed in the exe⯑cution.

Such is the caſe on their own repreſentation, which is worſe than the moſt malignant adverſary could have ſtated it. But as they are poor in counſel, the Court muſt not record the plea. General Howe did not abandon Boſton, becauſe it was a place ill fitted, and never went to Hali⯑fax, becauſe it was a place well fitted for a center of military operations. The Miniſters of the Ga⯑zette ſuppoſe we know nothing of American geo⯑graphy, when we are told that in order to direct [142] his operations on the middle colonies, General Howe fled to the very extremity of the northern. It is neither more nor leſs than to tell us, that a General in London, who intended to attack Do⯑ver Caſtle, would find it his beſt way thither to march his troops from hence to Edinburgh.

I was at firſt at a loſs to know how the Miniſtry could give into this apparently inſolent and un⯑feeling diſcourſe. How they could think to glory in their ſhame, and to defend themſelves by the very circumſtances which aggravate their offence. But on putting things together, it may be ac⯑counted for. It was to prepare the minds of the people for the events which in ſpite of any favour of fortune, muſt inevitably follow from the courſe they have purſued. They have told the public that Boſton was worth nothing, becauſe they were not able to keep it, and had no hopes of recover⯑ing it. If they find that the nation can be per⯑ſuaded to make violent efforts, on a ſuppoſition of the value of the object, and then to take com⯑fort on their failure, from a conſideration of its inſignificance, all they wiſh is effected. They have already, by many ſpeeches and publications con⯑cerning the Colonies, been preparing the public for the loſs of the whole. They are already ſpreading with infinite diligence, an opinion that extenſive empire is miſchievous, and that the vaſt acquiſi⯑tions [143] in the eaſt and weſt corrupt our minds, and weaken our induſtry.

This is the conſolation they hoard up for us againſt the day of our bitter diſtreſs, when we ſhall have undone ourſelves in an attempt to ruin our countrymen. Stripped of her dependencies, the nakedneſs of England is to be covered with the tattered cloak of a compelled, beggarly, Cynic philoſophy. The loſs of glory and dominion are to be compenſated by dull, common-place obſer⯑vations on the inſtability of empire, and the emp⯑tineſs of all human honours. Our Miniſters of State are preparing themſelves to become miniſters of the church, and to preach patience and reſigna⯑tion to a tractable auditory, reduced at length to a real Chriſtian humility, and to a true po⯑verty of purſe and of ſpirit, by the ſalutary oper⯑ation of their councils.

Hitherto they have done every thing to bring us to the ſtate for which they are preparing us. But if the events of war ſhould belye their plans; and if the bravery of General Heiſter and his Heſſian troops, ſhould recover what Britiſh valour (under the direction of our Miniſters) could not keep, it is then that in their ſucceſs the miſchief and weak⯑neſs of their plans will appear in full luſtre. The ſunſhine of fortune will only diſplay, in a glare of light, the inanity of the object for which the Miniſtry and their German troops are contending.

[144] The Colonies, in all the ſubmiſſion of diſaſter and defeat, will prove full as unfruitful of the revenue for which we are at war, and which alone can pay for that war, as the ſame colonies in all the heighth and inſolence of ſucceſsful reſiſtance. Then it will appear that the Miniſtry and their runners were not idly employed when they told us the Colonies are of no advantage to this country. This will be the event when Lord George Sackville's Gazette ſhall have ſatiated us with the pompous narrative of the victories obtained by the troops of the Duke of Brunſwick (diſciplined by Prince Ferdi⯑nand) over the miſerable Engliſh on the other ſide of the water.

Until that glorious day, announced with ſuch ſingular propriety, arrives, when the Gazette ſhall flow in as copious ſtreams as the Weſer or the Elbe, its ſcanty current continues to be directed ſo as to fructify the proper plants, and to ſtarve the reſt. In my laſt paper I remarked on the man⯑ner in which the Secretary's Office communicates and witholds intelligence. They profit of my praiſes; and ſo encouraged, they perſevere reli⯑giouſly in the plan, for which I had commended them.

In the Gazette of the 29th of laſt month, Lord George copies the beſt of examples, him⯑ſelf. In the laſt war the captures of merchant [145] ſhips was never the food of the Gazette. But now a Secretary of State ſerves up an account of the taking of 26 ſhips and veſſels of the rebels, ex⯑actly on the principles I ſtated in my laſt letter; but not a word of the tranſport loaded with arms and ammunition that theſe rebels have taken.

His Lordſhip has, on the ſame principles, carefully avoided all mention of the arrival of Sir Peter Parker and Lord Cornwallis at Cape Fear; although he has certainly received an account of that event; and although it might be thought that the public would feel ſome degree of anxiety concerning the fate of ſo great a fleet and army, which had been conſidered as loſt. The produc⯑tion of the credit ſide of the account of captures, with the total ſilence on the important expedition of Sir Peter Parker and Lord Cornwallies, ſhews, that the Miniſter conſiders the whole people of this once great country as the mercenary inhabi⯑tants of ſome little ſea port, ſome neſt of fiſher⯑men, ſmugglers, and pirates, ſuch as Dunkirk, St. Sebaſtian, the Iſle of Providence, or any other dirty hole at home or abroad, where they are in high ſpirits on hearing of the arrival of ſome mi⯑ſerable plunder, but are totally indifferent to all the great and important operations of war. It muſt give the Miniſter heart-felt pleaſure if they ſhould find that the ſpirit of the late act for ani⯑mating [146] the exertions of the navy by the holding out the plunder of their fellow citizens, is grown as diffuſive as they could wiſh, that the whole na⯑tion feel in the ſame way. If this ſhould be the caſe, one act of theirs has not been made in vain.

LETTER XIV.
PROSPECT from SUCCESS.

IT is now the third winter ſince the commence⯑ment of the preſent natural and auſpicious war againſt our Colonies. It is, I think, ſo long ſince General Gage was ſent to Boſton with a fleet and army, together with a heavy train of artillery, formed of the well-tempered metal of thoſe ſound Acts of Parliament, which were to bat⯑ter down all reſiſtance to the authority of Britiſh Government. For the greateſt part of that period our expences were continually on the increaſe, and our hopes continually on the wane. At length news arrives, as unexpected as it is ſatisfactory;—that 25,000 Heſſian and Britiſh troops, with the aid of a ſquadron of men of war, [148] had ſurpriſed 7000 Provincials out of their in⯑trenchments, turned their flanks, and thrown them into confuſion; on which their lines are abandoned, and the city of New-York left ex⯑poſed and untenable.

This news arrives in the very nick of time, as if it had been beſpoke. It is done to a turn. It came juſt at the meeting of Parliament. With⯑out it Miniſtry had been ſadly at a loſs. With⯑out this victory, the expulſion from Boſton, the repulſe at Charles-Town, and the petty defeats in almoſt every creek and harbour of North-America, together with the capture of ſo many valuable merchantmen in the ſeas of the Weſt-Indies, and even of Europe, would have fur⯑niſhed more ſuitable matter for an impeachment of Miniſters, than a ſpeech from the throne.

I have heard, that as this news did not arrive early in the ſeaſon, the ſpeech, as firſt prepared, was (as in reaſon, it ought) written in a very dif⯑ferent ſtyle from the preſent. The expreſſions were at leaſt as gracious to the Engliſh ſubject here; and the epithets not nearly ſo high ſea⯑ſoned with regard to thoſe on the other ſide of the great water. There was not a word of trea⯑ſon in it. It expreſſed, according to report, ſome diſpoſition to concede and reconcile, of which this ſpeech ſhews no ſigns at all. But on the whole, [149] it was as fine a performance in the tender and pa⯑thetic ſtyle, as the preſent is in the grand and lofty. It is a pity we are not favoured with the firſt ſketch; for Miniſters, like poets,

Victory has deprived us for ever of that fine compoſition. It has, however, made full amends. This victory, and the effect of it, is moſt happily and ably deſcribed in the preſent (not evaſive and hypocritical) but clear and ingenuous, as well as moſt gracious, humane, and merciful oration. ‘"The ſucceſs in that province (ſays the ſpeech) has been ſo important, as to give the ſtrongeſt hopes of the moſt deciſive good conſequences."’ I ſuppoſe the royal and noble authors of this finiſhed performance, are ſo intent on enforcing the laws of the land, that they quite forget thoſe of grammar; and are ſo eager about breaking ſtubborn heads, that in their hurry they miſtake Priſcian for Yankee. I therefore make no remarks on the conſtruction of this ſentence. I am carried away by the higher beauties of the performance. I am ſenſible that it was faſhioned on the principles of the ſciences now in the greateſt eſtimation. Writers have done much for gardening. Gar⯑dening again has paid its tribute to literary com⯑poſition. [150] This rural ſcience even Kings do not diſdain to cultivate. One of the leading prin⯑ciples in this modiſh gardening, is, as Pope ex⯑preſſes it, ‘"Decently to hide."’ All muſt not come upon us at once. We are to be on the very edge of the ſkulking haha, and ready to tumble into it, before we are to be put on our guard. This the rules of the art require; and the principle is tranſplanted into the ſpeech. Had that ſpeech bluntly and plainly told us, that the action was deciſive, the terms would be well enough underſtood; that is, deciſive of the for⯑tune of war; but then (obſerve the judgment) the main point would be loſt. For we ſhould im⯑mediately begin to think of enjoying the revenue of the conquered country, and of ſome ſort of oeconomy in regard to our own. On the other hand, had the Miniſtry, who are equally com⯑municative through their goodneſs, and reſerved through their wiſdom, held out no hopes at all of an end to that buſineſs, this nation would hardly be perſuaded to go on this journey with her uſual alacrity. But here we have a new phraſe to ex⯑preſs a new ſituation.—What ‘"an hope of deci⯑ſive good conſequences"’ means, I do not per⯑fectly underſtand; though the words are brave words, and certainly very pleaſing; becauſe hope, [151] deciſion, and good conſequences, are always agreeable ſounds to well-tuned ears, let them be placed or connected in what manner they may. What the good conſequences are—when they will probably happen—from whence they are to ariſe—or how far they are to extend, we know not. All this lies wrapt in clouds and darkneſs.

But for this obſcurity we are ſoon made ample amends, and the whole is cleared up in the next ſentence. We loſt ſight of the building in the mazes of the ſerpentine walk; but we catch it again in a very agreeable manner; it breaks in upon us with double effect. ‘"But notwithſtand⯑ing this fair proſpect, (ſays the ſpeech) we muſt at all events prepare for another campaign."’

Thus the riddle of the ‘"deciſive good conſe⯑quences"’ is ſolved. It ſignifies neither more nor leſs than this; that we are in an happy train of ſpending twenty millions this year in addi⯑tion to the fifteen millions which we ſpent in the laſt. I heartily congratulate the Miniſtry and my country on thoſe ſtrong hopes, and thoſe deci⯑ſive good conſequences. If defeat entitled us to ſpend fifteen millions, it is certainly reaſonable that victory, as it is more worth, ſhould be more expenſive. This is indeed at length diſtinctly promiſed, though in terms rather unuſual; ‘"This important conſideration will neceſſarily be [152] followed with great expence."’—With ſubmiſ⯑ſion, I fear, that all the great expence incurred and likely to be incurred, has ariſen from want [...] conſideration.

The next paragraph of the ſpeech is full of hopes too. It has likewiſe its windings and mazes. ‘"The aſſurances of amity from the ſeveral Courts of Europe"’ are not (it ſeems) now for the firſt time given,—but his Majeſty ‘"continues to receive them."’ You would naturally ex⯑pect, in conſequence of this uniformity of faith⯑ful aſſurances, that his Majeſty's mind ſtill reſted in the ſame perfect repoſe it has hitherto enjoyed on that ſoft cuſhion of ſtate from the beginning of theſe troubles. From theſe aſſurances, nobody living, I am perſuaded, could expect the conclu⯑ſion, which comes on you like a ſtroke of thun⯑der, ‘"that it is expedient in the preſent ſituation of affairs, that we ſhould be in a reſpectable ſtate of defence at home."’

It ſeems then, that the effect of royal aſſur⯑ances (I mean from abroad) is to leſſen confidence in the direct ratio of their continuance. When I read this, I was immediately put in mind of the good old adage

Which I never ſaw ſo thoroughly exemplified be⯑fore.

[153] In this part of the ſpeech we diſcover a ſecond point, perfectly worthy the congratulations which our gracious Sovereign has condeſcended to make to his obedient people; namely,—that we are likely to have a Spaniſh and French war to en⯑liven the dull uniformity of our civil diſſentions."

Such an event we were told laſt year was abſo⯑lutely impoſſible; and what is very remarkable, it was expreſsly ſaid to be impoſſible, then, for the very reaſons given for apprehending it in the ſpeech of this year; that is, from the tendency of the ſucceſs of America to unſettle the ſyſtem of Europe. If I perfectly underſtand the expreſſion in the ſpeech, it means, that the ſucceſs of the Americans would encourage the colonies of other nations, to rebel. Our rulers therefore (laſt year) concluded it impoſſible that thoſe nations ſhould give them encouragement. Be this as it may, we know that the impoſſibility of laſt year on the principles aſſigned in the ſpeech of this year, has already coſt to our conſtitution two illegal embar⯑goes; to our credit an heavy fall of ſtock; and to our finances it will be immediately followed by an augmentation of ^* 20,000 ſeamen; a call of the militia; an increaſe of the ſtanding army. Theſe are ſome of the deciſive good conſequences of "con⯑tinuing to receive aſſurances of amity from the ſeveral foreign Courts; and of a favourite and po⯑pular [154] civil war; in which poſſibility and impoſſi⯑bility, hope and fear, loſs or gain, victory and defeat, all alike, as rays from every part of a vaſt circumference, tend to a common centre, meeting in this one point—Public Bank⯑ruptcy.

I believe that thoſe who have addreſſed ſo duti⯑fully, and prayed ſo charitably for the bleſſing of an American war, hardly inſiſted on this Euro⯑pean war into the bargain; even with all its de⯑ciſive good conſequences. But a gracious and bountiful Miniſtry always gives heaped meaſure. Perhaps the addreſſers, though they ſo chearfully voted lives and fortunes, did not abſolutely inſiſt upon giving near a million ſterling of their trad⯑ing property, in order to nurſe to maturity the infant naval power of the Colonies; though after the loſs, the captures have, I admit, given the Admiralty an opportunity of diſplaying its vigi⯑lance and ſoreſight in providing convoys. An⯑other advantage, not within the ſtipulation, and which is given to the addreſſers of free grace and bounty, is the riſe of inſurance on the trade! which amounts to a prodigious ſum; and is there⯑fore, to all intents and purpoſes, a tax to that amount on the commercial property of England.

I do not know whether the ſlaughters that have been made and ſuffered in many parts of Ame⯑rica; and the burthens which have been impoſed, [155] or are in a courſe of being impoſed at home, are ſufficient to ſatisfy us. I remember it was the language of laſt year, in excuſe for not offering terms to North America, that we could not make peace with dignity until we had given our colo⯑nies ſome heavy blow. Is not this blow of New-York heavy enough for our dignity? We have al⯑ready ſacrificed many millions of our own trea⯑ſure, a good many lives of the inſular Engliſh, and at one ſtroke about 3000 of the Continental Engliſh to that fierce Court-God, Dignity. Is the ſeaſon not yet arrived when we are to give ſome attention to that humble, houſhold God, Self-Intereſt?

But we are, ‘"at all events, to prepare for another campaign."’ We do not quite forget, that when 50,000 regular troops, and an hundred ſhips of force, and ſuch an artillery as never was employed in any foreign war, were ſent laſt year to America, all this vaſt power and expence was ſaid to be employed in order to prevent hoſtilities from being drawn out into length, and to finiſh the war in another campaign. But that ſecond ano⯑ther is, we ſee, to produce a third another; and thus, as our poet ſays,

And thus ſhall we war on, till after irreparable injuries done and received, we ſhall, from mere wearineſs and fatigue, fall back to the miſerable, vexatious, and precarious ſtate of peace without reconciliation.

I will ſuppoſe America laid at Lord North's feet, and reduced to Lord George Germaine's ‘"unconditioned ſubmiſſion,"’ yet without the formal eſtabliſhment of liberty to ſatisfy and content, or the formal eſtabliſhment of ſlavery in its inſtru⯑ment a mercenary army, to awe and terrify, do you ſeriouſly, my countrymen, Whigs or Tories, as you may be, do you ſeriouſly expect a continu⯑ance of obedience?

There has been a great victory at Long Iſland. Many Engliſh were butchered by the Heſſians after they had laid down their arms. This, it ſeems, was proper, and was juſtified by the law of arms, and ſhews that a rabble of freemen are not to trifle with Heſſian ſpirit and reſentment. Col. Balfour has brought an account of the tak⯑ing of the uninhabited walls of New York, which were ſnatched, half burnt, from the fire. Has he brought any account of any thing like a move⯑ment towards a general ſubmiſſion in all the Co⯑lonies? or even in any one of them? Very far [157] from it. The Heſſians muſt, juſtifiably, ſlaughter more men in cold blood; your people muſt aban⯑don, and in deſpair burn more of their towns; there muſt be more mutual rapine of the pro⯑perty of Engliſh on Engliſh: Thus we muſt go on—For what? To eſtabliſh a ſtanding army in America for our ruin, in order to furniſh Com⯑miſſions to the younger Adelphi of antient decayed Northern Families. It can be for nothing elſe; for I do not believe that any one man living has the folly to imagine that all the taxes to be drawn from America for a century together, will even pay for the repair of New York, ſo as to fit it, for its only purpoſe, a barrack for General Heiſter's and General Howe's army.

The caſe in ſhort is this. Our war for taxa⯑tion, in America, has not yet, and never will produce a revenue. America is not taxed—but England is. America is impoveriſhed, undone if you pleaſe, but England is not enriched. The Colonies have now avowed independence. I have ever ſaid, and I think ſhewn in my former let⯑ters, that it was in no ſort their original inten⯑tion in this conteſt; but that they would infalli⯑bly be driven to it by the meaſures of violence hotly and obſtinately purſued, and by the rejec⯑tion with the ſame intemperate pertinacity, of every means of reconciliation. But one phraſe [158] ſerves for all reaſons. ‘"They have avowed in⯑dependency."’ They have ſo; and is it be⯑cauſe America has avowed independency, that England muſt be ruined? can we be quite certain that the offer of terms of liberty, which will coſt us nothing, will not draw them from that inde⯑pendency; when we are ſure, that offers of ſla⯑very, which have coſt us millions, have driven them to it?

It would, in my opinion, be wiſe to ſeize this firſt moment of ſucceſs to do proudly, what long ſince we ought to have done wiſely—To repeal the obnoxious acts—To put things on the foot⯑ing they ſtood on in 1763—To unite this coun⯑try, and to give a juſtification to your friends in America, for adhering to the free and reaſonable dependence of that country on this—This ſalu⯑tary and wholeſome end, is not to be effected by evaſion and chicane. ‘"Means of conciliation,"’ ^* one of the new invented phraſes, that aims to convey a ſenſe which facts will not ſupport. It would convey to the reader, that terms and con⯑ditions of reconciliation have been rejected by the Americans. It is a truth now univerſally no⯑torious, that no terms have been offered to them. Lord George Germaine at the end of laſt ſeſſion, poſitively and juſtly declared, that the commiſſion [159] neither had, nor could have powers of giving other terms of peace; except thoſe of pardon on the laying down their arms. It carried ſimply the power of accepting ‘"unconditioned ſubmiſ⯑ſion."’ In the dialect of miniſters, this is means of conciliation; in the language of common ſenſe, it is a declaration of an eternal war. But, to make peace, terms and conditions muſt be held out; and to ſatisfy our grand idea of dig⯑nity, they ought to be held now, in this firſt mo⯑ment of ſucceſs. For can we affirm, that war, however ſucceſsful, is not liable to reverſes of fortune? No man can ſay where a ſpark may ariſe from the apparently extinguiſhed fire of revolt and inſurrection.

In the beginning of theſe troubles, the majo⯑rity in both Houſes have not been aſhamed to vote the rebellion in America, as confined to one ſpot; when the very ſame diſtemper, whatever it was, raged over the whole continent. This was done to inſtigate a civil war; why ſhould they be aſhamed of a ſimilar fineſſe to reſtore do⯑meſtic peace, at a time too when we are threat⯑ened with the hoſtility of foreign powers? Let them now vote, that all America is ſubdued, and to a people conquered, graciouſly beſtow ‘"the bleſſings of peace and the ſecurity of liberty."’ The ſucceſs, real or pretended, may, if they [160] pleaſe, be made the preamble to the act of re⯑peal and ſettlement.

If war be not exempt from mutability, even in this hitherto ſingle handed war with our Colonies alone, what will be the conſequences of an un⯑favourable turn in a war with France and Spain united? I would not therefore put my whole truſt in war, ſo as to neglect every thing elſe; leſt, agree⯑ably to the miniſterial prognoſtic,) tho' I am far from preſuming to adopt the lofty tone of the epithets ſo becoming them, but ſo little becom⯑ing me,) ‘"if their treaſon be ſuffered to take root, much miſchief muſt grow from it, to the ſafety of the loyal Colonies—to the commerce of theſe kingdoms;—and indeed to the preſent ſyſtem of all Europe."’

May treaſon (ſince this revolt muſt be ſo) never take root from the continuance of tyranny!—This is my prayer. My Lords the Biſhops will hardly find a better, in their form for the faſt.

You will not be farther troubled on theſe Ame⯑rican affairs by your humble ſervant, and his coun⯑try's true, diſintereſted, and uninfluenced friend.