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POLITICAL TRACTS AND SPEECHES OF EDMUND BURKE, ESQ.

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THE POLITICAL TRACTS AND SPEECHES OF EDMUND BURKE, ESQ. MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT FOR THE CITY OF BRISTOL.

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PHILOSOPHY

MISCELLANIES

[...] Bookſeller & Stationer [...] Street [...] of Street Dublin

M,DCC,LXXVII.

CONTENTS.

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OBSERVATIONS ON A LATE STATE OF THE NATION.

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" O Tite, ſi quid ego adjuvero curamve levaſſo,
" Quae nunc te coquit, et verſat ſub pectore fixa,
" Ecquid erit pretii?"
ENN. ap. CIC.
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The References to THE STATE OF THE NATION, throughout theſe OBSERVATIONS, are made to the Quarto Edition of that Work.

OBSERVATIONS ON A LATE STATE OF THE NATION.

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PARTY diviſions, whether on the whole operating for good or evil, are things inſeparable from free government. This is a truth which, I believe, admits little diſpute, having been eſtabliſhed by the uniform experience of all ages. The part a good citizen ought to take in theſe diviſions, has been a matter of much deeper controverſy. But God forbid, that any controverſy relating to our eſſential morals ſhould admit of no deciſion. It appears to me, that this queſtion, like moſt of the others which regard our duties in life, is to be determined by our ſtation in it. Private men may be wholly neutral, and entirely innocent: but they who are legally inveſted with public truſt, or ſtand on the high ground of rank and dignity, which is truſt implied, can hardly in any caſe remain indifferent, without the certainty of ſinking into inſignificance; and thereby in effect deſerting that poſt in which, with the fulleſt authority, and for the wiſeſt purpoſes, the laws and inſtitutions of their country have fixed them. However, if it be the office of thoſe who are thus circumſtanced, to take a decided [2] part, it is no leſs their duty that it ſhould be a ſober one. It ought to be circumſcribed by the ſame laws of decorum, and balanced by the ſame temper, which bound and regulate all the virtues. In a word, we ought to act in party with all the moderation which does not abſolutely enervate that vigour, and quench that fervency of ſpirit, without which the beſt wiſhes for the public good muſt evaporate in empty ſpeculation.

IT is probably from ſome ſuch motives that the friends of a very reſpectable party in this kingdom have been hitherto ſilent. For theſe two years paſt, from one and the ſame quarter of politics, a continual fire has been kept upon them; ſometimes from the unwieldy column of quartos and octavos; ſometimes from the light ſquadrons of occaſional pamphlets and flying ſheets. Every month has brought on its periodical calumny. The abuſe has taken every ſhape which the ability of the writers could give it; plain invective, clumſy raillery, miſrepreſented anecdote.a No method of vilifying the meaſures, the abilities, the intentions, or the perſons which compoſe that body, has been omitted.

ON their part nothing was oppoſed but patience and character. It was a matter of the moſt ſerious and indignant affliction to perſons, who thought themſelves in conſcience bound to oppoſe a miniſtry, dangerous from its very conſtitution, as well as its meaſures, to find themſelves, whenever they faced their adverſaries, continually attacked on the rear by a ſet of men, who pretended to be actuated by motives ſimilar to theirs. They ſaw that the plan long purſued, with but too fatal a ſucceſs, was to break the ſtrength of this kingdom; by frittering down the bodies which compoſe it; by fomenting [3] bitter and ſanguinary animoſities, and by diſſolving every tie of ſocial affection and public truſt. Theſe virtuous men, ſuch I am warranted by public opinion to call them, were reſolved rather to endure every thing, than co-operate in that deſign. A diverſity of opinion upon almoſt every principle of politics had indeed drawn a ſtrong line of ſeparation between them and ſome others. However, they were deſirous not to extend the misfortune by unneceſſary bitterneſs; they wiſhed to prevent a difference of opinion on the commonwealth from feſtering into rancorous and incurable hoſtility. Accordingly they endeavoured that all paſt controverſies ſhould be forgotten; and that enough for the day ſhould be the evil thereof. There is however a limit at which forbearance ceaſes to be a virtue. Men may tolerate injuries, whilſt they are only perſonal to themſelves. But it is not the firſt of virtues to bear with moderation the indignities that are offered to our country. A piece has at length appeared, from the quarter of all the former attacks, which upon every public conſideration demands an anſwer. Whilſt perſons more equal to this buſineſs may be engaged in affairs of greater moment, I hope I ſhall be excuſed, if, in a few hours of a time not very important, and from ſuch materials as I have by me (more than enough however for this purpoſe), I undertake to ſet the facts and arguments of this wonderful performance in a proper light. I will endeavour to ſtate what this piece is; the purpoſe for which I take it to have been written; and the effects (ſuppoſing it ſhould have any effect at all) it muſt neceſſarily produce.

THIS piece is called, The preſent State of the Nation. It may be conſidered as a ſort of digeſt of the avowed maxims of a certain political ſchool, the effects of whoſe doctrines and practices this country will feel long and ſeverely. It is made up of a farrago of almoſt every topic which has been agitated [4] in parliamentary debate, or private converſation, on national affairs, for theſe ſeven laſt years. The oldeſt controverſies are hawled out of the duſt with which time and neglect had covered them. Arguments ten times repeated, a thouſand times anſwered before, are here repeated again. Public accounts formerly printed and re-printed revolve once more, and find their old ſtation in this ſober meridian. All the common-place lamentations upon the decay of trade, the encreaſe of taxes, and the high price of labour and proviſions, are here retailed again and again in the ſame tone with which they have drawled through columns of Gazetteers and Advertiſers for a century together. Paradoxes which affront common ſenſe, and unintereſting barren truths which generate no concluſion, are thrown in to augment unwieldy bulk, without adding any thing to weight. Becauſe two accuſations are better than one, contradictions are ſet ſtaring one another in the face, without even an attempt to reconcile them. And to give the whole a ſort of portentous air of labour and information, the table of the houſe of commons is ſwept into this grand reſervoir of politics.

AS to the compoſition, it bears a ſtriking and whimſical reſemblance to a funeral ſermon, not only in the pathetic prayer with which it concludes, but in the ſtyle and tenor of the whole performance. It is piteouſly doleful, nodding every now and then towards dulneſs; well ſtored with pious frauds, and, like moſt diſcourſes of the ſort, much better calculated for the private advantage of the preacher than the edification of the hearers.

THE author has indeed ſo involved his ſubject, that it is frequently far from being eaſy to comprehend his meaning. It is happy for the public that it is never difficult to fathom his deſign. The apparent intention of this author is to draw the moſt aggravated, hideous, and deformed picture of the [5] ſtate of this country, which his querulous eloquence, aided by the arbitrary dominion he aſſumes over fact, is capable of exhibiting. Had he attributed our miſfortunes to their true cauſe, the injudicious tampering of bold, improvident, and viſionary miniſters at one period, or to their ſupine negligence and traiterous diſſenſions at another, the complaint had been juſt, and might have been uſeful. But far the greater and much the worſt part of the ſtate which he exhibits is owing, according to his repreſentation, not to accidental and extrinſic miſchiefs attendant on the nation, but to its radical weakneſs and conſtitutional diſtempers. All this however is not without purpoſe. The author is in hopes that, when we are fallen into a fanatical terror for the national ſalvation, we ſhall then be ready to throw ourſelves, in a ſort of precipitate truſt, ſome ſtrange diſpoſition of the mind jumbled up of preſumption and deſpair, into the hands of the moſt pretending and forward undertaker. One ſuch undertaker at leaſt he has in readineſs for our ſervice. But let me aſſure this generous perſon, that, however he may ſucceed in exciting our fears for the public danger, he will find it hard indeed to engage us to place any confidence in the ſyſtem he propoſes for our ſecurity.

HIS undertaking is great. The purpoſe of this pamphlet, and at which it aims directly or obliquely in every page, is to perſuade the public of three or four of the moſt difficult points in the world, that all the advantages of the late war were on the part of the Bourbon alliance; that the peace of Paris perfectly conſulted the dignity and intereſt of this country; and that the American ſtamp-act was a maſter-piece of policy and finance; that the only good miniſter this nation has enjoyed ſince his majeſty's acceſſion, is the earl of Bute; and the only good managers of revenue we have ſeen are lord Deſpenſer and Mr. George Grenville; and under the [6] deſcription of men of virtue and ability, he holds them out to us as the only perſons fit to put our affairs in order. Let not the reader miſtake me: he does not actually name theſe perſons; but, having highly applauded their conduct in all its parts, and heavily cenſured every other ſet of men in the kingdom, he then recommends us to his men of virtue and ability.

SUCH is the author's ſcheme. Whether it will anſwer his purpoſe, I know not. But ſurely that purpoſe ought to be a wonderfully good one, to warrant the methods he has taken to compaſs it. If the facts and reaſonings in this piece are admitted, it is all over with us. The continuance of our tranquillity depends upon the compaſſion of our rivals. Unable to ſecure to ourſelves the advantages of peace, we are at the ſame time utterly unfit for war. It is impoſſible, if this ſtate of things be credited abroad, that we can have any alliance; all nations will fly from ſo dangerous a connexion, leſt, inſtead of being partakers of our ſtrength, they ſhould only become ſharers in our ruin. If it is believed at home, all that firmneſs of mind, and dignified national courage, which uſed to be the great ſupport of this iſle againſt the powers of the world, muſt melt away, and fail within us.

IN ſuch a ſtate of things can it be amiſs, if I aim at holding out ſome comfort to the nation; another ſort of comfort indeed, than that which this writer provides for it; a comfort, not from its phyſician, but from its conſtitution; if I attempt to ſhew that all the arguments upon which he founds the decay of that conſtitution, and the neceſſity of that phyſician, are vain and frivolous? I will follow the author cloſely in his own long career, through the war, the peace, the finances, our trade, and our foreign politics: not for the ſake of the particular meaſures which he diſcuſſes; that can be of no uſe; they are [7] all decided; their good is all enjoyed, or their evil incurred: but for the ſake of the principles of war, peace, trade, and finances. Theſe principles are of infinite moment. They muſt come again and again under conſideration; and it imports the public, of all things, that thoſe of its miniſter be enlarged, and juſt, and well confirmed, upon all theſe ſubjects. What notions this author entertains, we ſhall ſee preſently; notions in my opinion very irrational, and extremely dangerous; and which, if they ſhould crawl from pamphlets into counſels, and be realized from private ſpeculation into national meaſures, cannot fail of haſtening and compleating our ruin.

THIS author, after having paid his compliment to the ſhewy appearances of the late war in our favour, is in the utmoſt haſte to tell you that theſe appearances were fallacious, that they were no more than an impoſition.—I fear I muſt trouble the reader with a pretty long quotation, in order to ſet before him the more clearly this author's peculiar way of conceiving and reaſoning:

‘"HAPPILY (the K.) was then adviſed by miniſters, who did not ſuffer themſelves to be dazzled by the glare of brilliant appearances; but, knowing them to be fallacious, they wiſely reſolved to profit of their ſplendor before our enemies ſhould alſo diſcover the impoſition.—The increaſe in the exports was found to have been occaſioned chiefly by the demands of our own fleets and armies, and, inſtead of bringing wealth to the nation, were to be paid for by oppreſſive taxes upon the people of England. While the Britiſh ſeamen were conſuming on board our men of war and privateers, foreign ſhips and foreign ſeamen were employed in the tranſportation of our merchandize, and the carrying trade, ſo great a ſource of wealth and marine, was entirely engroſſed by the neutral nations. The number of Britiſh ſhips annually arriving in [8] our ports was reduced 1756 ſail, containing 92,559 tons, on a medium of the ſix years war, compared with the ſix years of peace preceding it.—The conqueſt of the Havannah had, indeed, ſtopped the remittance of ſpecie from Mexico to Spain; but it had not enabled England to ſeize it: on the contrary, our merchants ſuffered by the detention of the galleons, as their correſpondents in Spain were diſabled from paying them for their goods ſent to America. The loſs of the trade to Old Spain was a farther bar to an influx of ſpecie; and the attempt upon Portugal had not only deprived us of an import of bullion from thence, but the payment of our troops employed in its defence was a freſh drain opened for the diminution of our circulating ſpecie.—The high premiums given for new loans had ſunk the price of the old ſtock near a third of its original value, ſo that the purchaſers had an obligation from the ſtate to repay them with an addition of 33 per cent. to their capital. Every new loan required new taxes to be impoſed; new taxes muſt add to the price of our manufactures, and leſſen their conſumption among foreigners. The decay of our trade muſt neceſſarily occaſion a decreaſe of the public revenue; and a deficiency of our funds muſt either be made up by freſh taxes, which would only add to the calamity, or our national credit muſt be deſtroyed, by ſhewing the public creditors the inability of the nation to repay them their principal money.—Bounties had already been given for recruits which exceeded the year's wages of the plowman and reaper; and as theſe were exhauſted, and huſbandry ſtood ſtill for want of hands, the manufacturers were next to be tempted to quit the anvil and the loom by higher offers.—France, bankrupt France, had no ſuch calamities impending over her; her diſtreſſes were great, but they were immediate and temporary; her want of credit preſerved her from a great increaſe of debt, and [9] the loſs of her ultramarine dominions leſſened her expences. Her colonies had, indeed, put themſelves into the hands of the Engliſh; but the property of her ſubjects had been preſerved by capitulations, and a way opened for making her thoſe remittances; which the war had before ſuſpended, with as much ſecurity as in time of peace.—Her armies in Germany had been hitherto prevented from ſeizing upon Hanover; but they continued to encamp on the ſame ground on which the firſt battle was fought; and, as it muſt ever happen from the policy of that government, the laſt troops ſhe ſent into the field were always found to be the beſt, and her frequent loſſes only ſerved to fill her regiments with better ſoldiers. The conqueſt of Hanover became therefore every campaign more probable. It is to be noted, that the French troops received ſubſiſtance only, for the laſt three years of the war; and that, although large arrears were due to them at its concluſion, the charge was the leſs during its continuance."b

IF any one be willing to ſee to how much greater lengths the author carries theſe ideas, he will recur to the book. This is ſufficient for a ſpecimen of his manner of thinking. I believe one reflection uniformly obtrudes itſelf upon every reader of theſe paragraphs. For what purpoſe in any cauſe ſhall we hereafter contend with France? can we ever flatter ourſelves that we ſhall wage a more ſucceſsful war? if, on our part, in a war the moſt proſperous we ever carried on, by ſea and by land, and in every part of the globe, attended with the unparalleled circumſtance of an immenſe increaſe of trade and augmentation of revenue; if a continued ſeries of diſappointments, diſgraces, and defeats, followed by public bankruptcy, on the part of France; if all theſe ſtill leave her a gainer on the whole balance, will it not be downright phrenzy in us ever [10] to look her in the face again, or to contend with her any, even the moſt eſſential points, ſince victory and defeat, though by different ways, equally conduct us to our ru [...]n? Subjection to France without a ſtruggle will indeed be leſs for our honour, but on every principle of our author it muſt be more for our advantage. According to his repreſentation of things, the queſtion is only concerning the moſt eaſy fall. France had not diſcovered, our ſtateſman tells us, at the end of that war, the triumphs of defeat, and the reſources which are derived from bankruptcy. For my poor part, I do not wonder at their blindneſs. But the Engliſh miniſters ſaw further. Our author has at length let foreigners alſo into the ſecret, and made them altogether as wiſe as ourſelves. It is their own fault if (vulgato imperii arcano) they are impoſed upon any longer. They now are apprized of the ſentiments which the great candidate for the government of this great empire entertains; and they will act accordingly. They are taught our weakneſs and their own advantages.

HE tells the world,c that if France carries on the war againſt us in Germany, every loſs ſhe ſuſtains contributes to the atchievement of her conqueſt. If her armies are three years unpaid, ſhe is the leſs exhauſted by expence. If her credit is deſtroyed, ſhe is the leſs oppreſſed with debt. If her troops are cut to pieces, they will by her policy (and a wonderful policy it is) be improved, and will be ſupplied with much better men. If the war is carried on in the colonies, he tells them that the loſs of her ultramarine dominions leſſens her expences,d and enſures her remittances:

Per damna, per caedes, ab ipſo
Ducit opes animumque ferro.

if ſo, what is it we can do to hurt her?—It will [11] be all an impoſition, all fallacious. Why the reſult muſt be—Occidit, occidit ſpes omnis & fortuna noſtri nominis.

THE only way which the author's principles leave for our eſcape, is to reverſe our condition into that of France, and to take her loſing cards into our hands. But, though his principles drive him to it, his politics will not ſuffer him to walk on this ground. Talking at our eaſe and of other countries, we may bear to be diverted with ſuch ſpeculations; but in England we ſhall never be taught to look upon the annihilation of our trade, the ruin of our credit, the defeat of our armies, and the loſs of our ultramarine dominions, (whatever the author may think of them,) to be the high road to proſperity and greatneſs.

THE reader does not, I hope, imagine that I mean ſeriouſly to ſet about the refutation of theſe uningenious paradoxes and reveries without imagination. I ſtate them only that we may diſcern a little in the queſtions of war and peace, the moſt weighty of all queſtions, what is the wiſdom of thoſe men who are held out to us as the only hope of an expiring nation. The preſent miniſtry is indeed of a ſtrange character: at once indolent and diſtracted. But if a miniſterial ſyſtem ſhould be formed, actuated by ſuch maxims as are avowed in this piece, the vices of the preſent miniſtry would become their virtues; their indolence would be the greateſt of all public benefits, and a diſtraction that entirely defeated every one of their ſchemes would be our only ſecurity from deſtruction.

TO have ſtated theſe reaſonings is enough, I preſume, to do their buſineſs. But they are accompanied with facts and records, which may ſeem of a little more weight. I truſt however that the facts of this author will be as far from [12] bearing the touchſtone, as his arguments. On a little inquiry, they will be found as great an impoſition as the ſucceſſes they are meant to depreciate; for they are all either falſe or fallaciouſly applied; or not in the leaſt to the purpoſe for which they are produced.

FIRST the author, in order to ſupport his favourite paradox, that our poſſeſſion of the French colonies was of no detriment to France, has thought proper to inform us that ‘"they put themſelves into the hands of the Engliſh."e He uſes the ſame aſſertion, in nearly the ſame words, in another place; ‘"her colonies had put themſelves into our hands."f Now, in juſtice not only to fact and common ſenſe, but to the incomparable valour and perſeverance of our military and naval forces thus unhandſomely traduced, I muſt tell this author, that the French colonies did not ‘"put themſelves into the hands of the Engliſh."’ They were compelled to ſubmit; they were ſubdued by dint of Engliſh valour. Will the five years war carried on in Canada, in which fell one of the principal hopes of this nation, and all the battles loſt and gained during that anxious period, convince this author of his miſtake? Let him inquire of Sir Jeffery Amherſt, under whoſe conduct that war was carried on; of Sir Charles Saunders, whoſe ſteadineſs and preſence of mind ſaved our fleet, and were ſo eminently ſerviceable in the whole courſe of the ſiege of Quebec; of general Monckton, who was ſhot through the body there, whether France ‘"put her colonies into the hands of the Engliſh."’

THOUGH he has made no exception, yet I would be liberal to him; perhaps he means to confine himſelf to her colonies in the Weſt Indies. But ſurely it will fare as ill with him there as in North America, whilſt we remember that in our firſt [13] attempt at Martinico we were actually defeated; that it was three months before we reduced Guadaloupe; and that the conqueſt of the Havannah was atchieved by the higheſt conduct, aided by circumſtances of the greateſt good-fortune. He knows the expence both of men and treaſure at which we bought that place. However, if it had ſo pleaſed the peace-makers, it was no dear purchaſe; for it was deciſive of the fortune of the war and the terms of the treaty: the duke of Nivernois thought ſo; France, England, Europe, conſidered it in that light; all the world, except the then friends of the then miniſtry, who wept for our victories, and were in haſte to get rid of the burthen of our conqueſts. This author knows that France did not put thoſe colonies into the hands of England; but he well knows who did put the moſt valuable of them into the hands of France.

IN the next place,g our author is pleaſed to conſider the conqueſt of thoſe colonies in no other light than as a convenience for the remittances to France, which he aſſerts that the war had before ſuſpended, but for which a way was opened (by our conqueſt) as ſecure as in time of peace. I charitably hope he knows nothing of the ſubject. I referred him lately to our commanders for the reſiſtance of the French colonies; I now wiſh he would apply to our cuſtom-houſe entries, and our merchants, for the advantages which we derived from them.

[14]IN 1761, there was no entry of goods from any of the conquered places but Guadaloupe; in that year, it ſtood thus:

  £.
Imports from Guadaloupe,value,482.179

In 1762, when we had not yet delivered up our conqueſts, the account was,  
Guadaloupe, 513.244
Martinico, 288.425
Total imports in 1762,value, £.801.669

In 1763, after we had delivered up the ſovereignty of theſe iſlands, but kept open a communication with them, the imports were, £.
Guadaloupe, 412.303
Martinico, 344.161
Havannah, 249.386
Total imports in 1763,value, £.1.005.850

Beſides, I find in the account of bullion imported and brought to the bank, that, during that period in which the intercourſe with the Havannah was open, we received at that one ſhop, in treaſure, from that one place, £. 559.810; in the year 1763, £. 389.450; ſo that the import from theſe places in that year amounted to £. 1.395.300.

ON this ſtate the reader will obſerve, that I take the imports from, and not the exports to, theſe conqueſts, as the meaſure of the advantages which we derived from them. I do ſo for reaſons which will be ſomewhat worthy the attention of ſuch readers as are [15] fond of this ſpecies of inquiry. I ſay therefore I chooſe the import article, as the beſt, and indeed the only ſtandard we can have, of the value of the Weſt India trade. Our export entry does not comprehend the greateſt trade we carry on with any of the Weſt India iſlands, the ſale of negroes: nor does it give any idea of two other advantages we draw from them; the remittances for money ſpent here, and the payment of part of the balance of the North American trade. It is therefore quite ridiculous, to ſtrike a balance merely on the face of an exceſs of imports and exports, in that commerce; though, in moſt foreign branches, it is, on the whole, the beſt method. If ſhe ſhould take that ſtandard, it would appear, that the balance with our own iſlands is, annually, ſeveral hundred thouſand pounds againſt this countryh. Such is its aſpect on the cuſtom-houſe entries; but we know the direct contrary to be the fact. We know that the Weſt Indians are always indebted to our merchants, and that the value of every ſhilling of Weſt India produce is Engliſh property. So that our import from them, and not our export, ought always to be conſidered as their true value; and this corrective ought to be applied to all general balances of our trade, which are formed on the ordinary principles.

IF poſſible, this was more emphatically true of the French Weſt India iſlands, whilſt they continued in our hands. That none, or only a very contemptible [16] part, of the value of this produce, could be remitted to France, the author will ſee, perhaps with unwillingneſs, but with the cleareſt conviction, if he conſiders, that in the year 1763, after we had ceaſed to export to the iſles of Guadaloupe and Martinico, and to the Havannah, and after the colonies were free to ſend all their produce to Old France and Spain, if they had any remittance to make; he will ſee, that we imported from thoſe places, in that year, to the amount of £. 1.395.300. So far was the whole annual produce of theſe iſlands from being adequate to the payments of their annual call upon us, that this mighty additional importation was neceſſary, though not quite ſufficient, to diſcharge the debts contracted in the few years we held them. The property, therefore, of their whole produce, was ours; not only during the war, but even for more than a year after the peace. The author, I hope, will not again venture upon ſo raſh and diſcouraging a propoſition, concerning the nature and effect of thoſe conqueſts, as to call them a convenience to the remittances of France; he ſees by this account, that what he aſſerts is not only without foundation, but even impoſſible to be true.

AS to our trade at that time, he labours with all his might to repreſent it as abſolutely ruined, or on the very edge of ruin. Indeed, as uſual with him, he is often as equivocal in his expreſſion, as he is clear in his deſign. Sometimes he more than inſinuates a decay of our commerce in that war; ſometimes he admits an encreaſe of exports; but it is in order to depreciate the advantages we might appear to derive from that encreaſe, whenever it ſhould come to be proved againſt him. He tells you,i ‘"that it was chiefly occaſioned by the demands of our own fleets and armies, and, inſtead of bringing wealth to the nation, were to [17] be paid for by oppreſſive taxes upon the people of England."’ Never was any thing more deſtitute of foundation. It might be proved with the greateſt eaſe, from the nature and quality of the goods exported, as well as from the ſituation of the places to which our merchandiſe was ſent, and which the war could no wiſe effect, that the ſupply of our fleets and armies could not have been the cauſe of this wonderful encreaſe of trade; its cauſe was evident to the whole world; the ruin of the trade of France, and our poſſeſſion of her colonies. What wonderful effects this cauſe produced, the reader will ſee belowk; and he will form on that account ſome judgment of the author's candour or information.

[18]ADMIT however that a great part of our export, though nothing is more remote from fact, was owing to the ſupply of our fleets and armies; was it not ſomething?—was it not peculiarly fortunate for a nation, that ſhe was able from her own boſom to contribute largely to the ſupply of her armies militating in ſo many diſtant countries? The author allows that France did not enjoy the ſame advantages. But it is remarkable throughout his whole book, that thoſe circumſtances which have ever been conſidered as great benefits, and deciſive proofs of national ſuperiority, are, when in our hands, taken either in diminution of ſome other apparent advantage, or even ſometimes as poſitive misfortunes. The optics of that politician muſt be of a ſtrange conformation, who beholds every thing in this diſtorted ſhape.

SO far as to our trade. With regard to our navigation, he is ſtill more uneaſy at our ſituation, and ſtill more fallacious in his ſtate of it. In his text, he affirms it ‘"to have been entirely engroſſed by the neutral nations."l This he aſſerts roundly and boldly, and without the leaſt concern; although it coſt no more than a ſingle glance of the eye upon his own margin to ſee the full refutation of this aſſertion. His own account proves againſt him, that in the year 1761 the Britiſh ſhipping amounted to 527.557 tons—the foreign to no more than 180.102. The medium of his ſix years Britiſh, 2.449.555 tons—foreign only, 905.690. [19] This ſtate (his own) demonſtrates that the neutral nations did not entirely engroſs our navigation.

I AM willing from a ſtrain of candour to admit that this author ſpeaks at random; that he is only ſlovenly and inaccurate, and not fallacious. In matters of account, however, this want of care is not excuſable: and the difference between neutral nations entirely engroſſing our navigation, and being only ſubſidiary to a vaſtly augmented trade, makes a moſt material difference to his argument. From that principle of fairneſs, though the author ſpeaks otherwiſe, I am willing to ſuppoſe he means no more than that our navigation had ſo declined as to alarm us with the probable loſs of this valuable object. I ſhall however ſhew, that his whole propoſition, whatever modifications he may pleaſe to give it, is without foundation; that our navigation was not decreaſed; that, on the contrary, it was greatly encreaſed in the war; that it was encreaſed by the war; and that it was probable the ſame cauſe would continue to augment it to a ſtill greater height; to what an height it is hard to ſay, had our ſucceſs continued.

BUT firſt I muſt obſerve, I am much leſs ſolicitous whether his fact be true or no, than whether his principle is well eſtabliſhed. Caſes are dead things, principles are living and productive. I then affirm that, if in time of war our trade had the good fortune to encreaſe, and at the ſame time a large, nay the largeſt, proportion of carriage had been engroſſed by neutral nations, it ought not in itſelf to have been conſidered as a circumſtance of diſtreſs. War is a time of inconvenience to trade; in general it muſt be ſtraitened, and muſt find its way as it can. It is often happy for nations that they are able to call in neutral navigation. They all aim at it. France endeavoured at it, but could not compaſs [20] it. Will this author ſay, that, in a war with Spain, ſuch an aſſiſtance would not be of abſolute neceſſity? that it would not be the moſt groſs of all follies to refuſe it?

IN the next place, his method of ſtating a medium of ſix years of war, and ſix years of peace, to decide this queſtion, is altogether unfair. To ſay, in derogation of the advantages of a war, that navigation is not equal to what it was in time of peace, is what hitherto has never been heard of. No war ever bore that teſt but the war which he ſo bitterly laments. One may lay it down as a maxim, that an average eſtimate of an object in a ſteady courſe of riſing or of falling, muſt in its nature be an unfair one; more particularly if the cauſe of the riſe or fall be viſible, and its continuance in any degree probable. Average eſtimates are never juſt but when the object fluctuates, and no reaſon can be aſſigned why it ſhould not continue ſtill to fluctuate. The author chuſes to allow nothing at all for this: he has taken an average of ſix years of the war. He knew, for every body knows, that the firſt three years were on the whole rather unſucceſsful; and that, in conſequence of this ill ſucceſs, trade ſunk, and navigation declined with it; but that grand deluſion of the three laſt years turned the ſcale in our favour. At the beginning of that war (as in the commencement of every war), traders were ſtruck with a ſort of panic. Many went out of the freighting buſineſs. But by degrees, as the war continued, the terror wore off; the danger came to be better appreciated, and better provided againſt; our trade was carried on in large fleets, under regular convoys, and with great ſafety. The freighting buſineſs revived. The ſhips were fewer, but much larger; and though the number decreaſed, the tonnage was vaſtly augmented; in ſo much that in 1761 [21] the Britiſh ſhipping had riſen by the author's own account 527.557 tons.—In the laſt year he has given us of the peace it amountd to no more than 494.772; that is, in the laſt year of the war it was 32.785 tons more than in the correſpondent year of his peace average. No year of the peace exceeded it except one, and that but little.

THE fair account of the matter is this. Our trade had, as we have juſt ſeen, encreaſed to ſo aſtoniſhing a degree in 1761, as to employ Britiſh and foreign ſhips to the amount of 707.659 tons, which is 149.500 more than we employed in the laſt year of the peace.—Thus our trade encreaſed more than a fifth; our Britiſh navigation had encreaſed likewiſe with this aſtoniſhing encreaſe of trade, but was not able to keep pace with it; and we added about 120.000 ton of foreign ſhipping to the 60.000, which had been employed in the laſt year of the peace. Whatever happened to our ſhipping in the former years of the war, this would be no true ſtate of the caſe at the time of the treaty. If we had loſt ſomething in the beginning, we had then recovered, and more than recovered, all our loſſes. Such is the ground of the doleful complaints of the author, that the carrying trade was wholly engroſſed by the neutral nations.

I HAVE done fairly, and even very moderately, in taking this year, and not his average, as the ſtandard of what might be expected in future, had the war continued. The author will be compelled to allow it, unleſs he undertakes to ſhew; firſt, that the poſſeſſion of Canada, Martinico, Guadaloupe, Granada, the Havannah, the Philippines, the whole African trade, the whole Eaſt India trade, and the whole Newfoundland fiſhery, had no certain inevitable tendency to encreaſe the Britiſh ſhipping; unleſs, in the ſecond place, he can prove [22] that thoſe trades were, or might, by law or indulgence, be carried on in foreign veſſels; and unleſs, thirdly, he can demonſtrate that the premium of inſurance on Britiſh ſhips was riſing as the war continued. He can prove not one of theſe points. I will ſhew him a fact more, that is mortal to his aſſertions. It is the ſtate of our ſhipping in 1762. The author had his reaſons for ſtopping ſhort at the preceding year. It would have appeared, had he proceeded farther, that our tonnage was in a courſe of uniform augmentation, owing to the freight derived from our foreign conqueſts, and to the perfect ſecurity of our navigation from our clear and decided ſuperiority at ſea. This, I ſay, would have appeared from the ſtate of the two years:

1761.Britiſh,527.557 tons.
1762.Do,559.537 tons.
1761.Foreign,180.102 tons.
1762.Do,129.502 tons.

The two laſt years of the peace were in no degree equal to theſe. Much of the navigation of 1763 was alſo owing to the war; this is manifeſt from the large part of it employed in the carriage from the ceded iſlands, with which the communication ſtill continued open. No ſuch circumſtances of glory and advantage ever attended upon a war. Too happy will be our lot, if we ſhould again be forced into a war, to behold any thing that ſhall reſemble them; and if we were not then the better for them, it is not in the ordinary courſe of God's providence to mend our condition.

IN vain does the author declaim on the high premiums given for the loans during the war. His [23] long note ſwelled with calculations on that ſubject (even ſuppoſing the moſt inaccurate of all calculations to be juſt) would be entirely thrown away, did it not ſerve to raiſe a wonderful opinion of his financial ſkill in thoſe who are not leſs ſurprized than edified, when, with a ſolemn face and myſterious air, they are told that two and two make four. For what elſe do we learn from this note? that the more expence is incurred by a nation, the more money will be required to defray it; that, in proportion to the continuance of that expence, will be the continuance of borrowing; that the encreaſe of borrowing and the encreaſe of debt will go hand in hand; and laſtly, that the more money you want, the harder it will be to get it; and that the ſcarcity of the commodity will enhance the price. Who ever doubted the truth, or the inſignificance, of theſe propoſitions? what do they prove? that war is expenſive, and peace deſirable. They contain nothing more than a common-place againſt war; the eaſieſt of all topics. To bring them home to his purpoſe, he ought to have ſhewn, that our enemies had money upon better terms; which he has not ſhewn, neither can he. I ſhall ſpeak more fully to this point in another place. He ought to have ſhewn, that the money they raiſed, upon whatever terms, had procured them a more lucrative return. He knows that our expenditure purchaſed commerce and conqueſt; theirs acquired nothing but defeat and bankruptcy.

THUS the author has laid down his ideas on the ſubject of war. Next follow thoſe he entertains on that of peace. The treaty of Paris upon the whole has his approbation. Indeed, if his account of the war be juſt, he might have ſpared himſelf all further trouble. The reſt is drawn on as an [24] inevitable concluſion.m If the houſe of Bourbon had the advantage, ſhe muſt give the law; and the peace, though it were much worſe than it is, had ſtill been a good one. But, as the world is yet deluded on the ſtate of that war, other arguments are neceſſary; and the author has in my opinion very ill ſupplied them. He tells of many things we have got, and of which he has made out a kind of bill. This matter may be brought within a very narrow compaſs, if we come to conſider the requiſites of a good peace under ſome plain diſtinct heads. I apprehend they may be reduced to theſe: 1. ſtability; 2. indemnification; 3. alliance.

As to the firſt, the author more than obſcurely hints in ſeveral places, that he thinks the peace not likely to laſt. However, he does furniſh a ſecurity; a ſecurity, in any light, I fear, but inſufficient; on his hypotheſis,n ſurely a very odd one. ‘"By ſtipulating for the entire poſſeſſion of the continent, (ſays he) the reſtored French iſlands are become in ſome meaſure dependent on the Britiſh empire; and the good faith of France in obſerving the treaty is guaranteed by the value at which ſhe eſtimates their poſſeſſion."’ This author ſoon grows weary of his principles. They ſeldom laſt him for two pages together. When the advantages of the war were to be depreciated, then the loſs of the ultramarine colonies lightened the expences of France, facilitated her remittances, and therefore her coloniſts put them into our hands. According to this author's ſyſtem, the actual poſſeſſion of thoſe colonies ought to give us little or no advantage in the negociation for peace; and yet the chance of poſſeſſing them on a future occaſion gives a perfect ſecurity for the preſervation of that peace. The o conqueſt of the [25] Havannah, if it did not ſerve Spain, rather diſtreſſed England, ſays our author.p But the moleſtation which her galleons may ſuffer from our ſtation in Penſacola gives us advantages, for which we were not allowed to credit the nation for the Havannah itſelf; a place ſurely full as well ſituated for every external purpoſe as Penſacola, and of more internal benefit than ten thouſand Penſacolas.

THE authorq ſets very little by conqueſts; I ſuppoſe it is becauſe he makes them ſo very lightly. On this ſubject he ſpeaks with the greateſt certainty imaginable. We have, according to him, nothing to do, but to go and take poſſeſſion, whenever we think proper, of the French and Spaniſh ſettlements. It were better that he had examined a little what advantage the peace gave us towards the invaſion of theſe colonies, which we did not poſſeſs before the peace. It would not have been amiſs if he had conſulted the public experience, and our commanders, concerning the abſolute certainty of thoſe conqueſts on which he is pleaſed to found our ſecurity. And if, after all, he ſhould have diſcovered them to be ſo very ſure, and ſo very eaſy, he might, at leaſt, to preſerve conſiſtency, have looked a few pages back, and (no unpleaſing thing to him) liſtened to himſelf, where he ſays,r ‘"that the moſt ſucceſsful enterprize could not compenſate to the nation for the waſte of its people, by carrying on war in unhealthy climates."’ A poſition which he repeats again, p. 9. So that, according to himſelf, his ſecurity is not worth the ſuit; according to fact, he has only a chance, God knows what a chance, of getting [26] at it; and therefore, according to reaſon, the giving up the moſt valuable of all poſſeſſions, in hopes to conquer them back, under any advantage of ſituation, is the moſt ridiculous ſecurity that ever was imagined for the peace of a nation. It is true, his friends did not give up Canada; they could not give up every thing; let us make the moſt of it. We have Canada, we know its value. We have not the French any longer to fight in North America; and, from this circumſtance, we derive conſiderable advantages. But here let me reſt a little. The author touches upon a ſtring, which ſounds under his fingers but a tremulous and melancholy note. North America was once indeed a great ſtrength to this nation, in opportunity of ports, in ſhips, in proviſions, in men. We found her a ſound, an active, a vigorous member of the empire. I hope, by wiſe management, ſhe will again become ſo. But one of our capital preſent misfortunes is, her diſcontent and diſobedience. To which of the author's favourites this diſcontent is owing, we all know but too ſufficiently. It would be a diſmal event, if this foundation of his ſecurity, and indeed of all our public ſtrength, ſhould, in reality, become our weakneſs; and if all the powers of this empire, which ought to fall with a compacted weight upon the head of our enemies, ſhould be diſſipated and diſtracted by a jealous vigilance, or by hoſtile attempts upon one another. Ten Canadas cannot reſtore that ſecurity for the peace, and for every thing valuable to this country, which we have loſt along with the affection and the obedience of our colonies. He is the wiſe miniſter, he is the true friend to Britain, who ſhall be able to reſtore it.

TO return to the ſecurity for the peace. The author tells us, that the original great purpoſes [27] of the war were more than accompliſhed by the treaty. Surely he has experience and reading enough to know that, in the courſe of a war, events may happen, that render its original very far from being its principal purpoſe. This original may dwindle by circumſtances, ſo as to become not a purpoſe of the ſecond or even the third magnitude. I truſt this is ſo obvious, that it will not be neceſſary to put caſes for its illuſtration. In that war, as ſoon as Spain entered into the quarrel, the ſecurity of North America was no longer the ſole nor the foremoſt object. The family compact had been I know not how long before in agitation. But then it was that we ſaw produced into daylight and action the moſt odious and moſt formidable of all the conſpiracies againſt the liberties of Europe, that ever has been framed. The war with Spain was the firſt fruits of that league; and a ſecurity againſt that league ought to have been the fundamental point of a pacification with the powers who compoſe it. We had materials in our hands to have conſtructed that ſecurity in ſuch a manner as never to be ſhaken. But how did the virtuous and able men of our author labour for this great end? they took no one ſtep towards it. On the contrary they countenanced, and indeed, as far as it depended on them, recognized it in all its parts; for our plenipotentiary treated with thoſe who acted for the two crowns, as if they had been different miniſters of the ſame monarch. The Spaniſh miniſter received his inſtructions, not from Madrid; but from Verſailles.

THIS was not hid from our miniſters at home, and the diſcovery ought to have alarmed them, if the good of their country had been the object of their anxiety. They could not but have ſeen that the whole Spaniſh monarchy was melted down into [28] the cabinet of Verſailles. But they thought this circumſtance an advantage; as it enabled them to go through with their work the more expeditiouſly. Expedition was every thing to them; becauſe France might happen during a protracted negotiation to diſcover the great impoſition of our victories.

IN the ſame ſpirit they negotiated the terms of the peace. If it were thought adviſable not to take any poſitive ſecurity from Spain, the moſt obvious principles of policy dictated that the burthen of the ceſſions ought to fall upon France; and that every thing which was of grace and favour ſhould be given to Spain. Spain could not, on her part, have executed a capital article in the family compact, which obliged her to compenſate the loſſes of France. At leaſt ſhe could not do it in America; for ſhe was expreſsly precluded by the treaty of Utrecht from ceding any territory or giving any advantage in trade to that power. What did our miniſters? they took from Spain the territory of Florida, an object of no value except to ſhew our diſpoſitions to be quite equal at leaſt towards both powers; and they enabled France to compenſate Spain by the gift of Louiſiana; loading us with all the harſhneſs, leaving the act of kindneſs with France, and opening thereby a door to the fulfilling of this the moſt conſolidating article of the family compact. Accordingly that dangerous league, thus abetted and authorized by the Engliſh miniſtry without an attempt to invalidate it in any way, or in any of its parts, exiſts to this hour; and has grown ſtronger and ſtronger, every hour of its exiſtence.

AS to the ſecond component of a good peace, compenſation, I have but little trouble; the author has ſaid nothing upon that head. He has nothing [29] to ſay. After a war of ſuch expence, this ought to have been a capital conſideration. But on what he has been ſo prudently ſilent, I think it is right to ſpeak plainly. All our new acquiſitions together, at this time, ſcarce afford matter of revenue either at home or abroad, ſufficient to defray the expence of their eſtabliſhments; not one ſhilling towards the reduction of our debt. Guadaloupe or Martinico alone would have given us material aid; much in the way of duties, much in the way of trade and navigation. A good miniſtry would have conſidered how a renewal of the Aſſiento might have been obtained. We had as much right to aſk it at the treaty of Paris as at the treaty of Utrecht. We had incomparably more in our hands to purchaſe it. Floods of treaſure would have poured into this kingdom from ſuch a ſource; and, under proper management, no ſmall part of it would have taken a public direction, and have fructified an exhauſted exchequer.

IF this gentleman's hero of finance, inſtead of flying from a treaty, which, though he now defends, he could not approve, and would not oppoſe; if he, inſtead of ſhifting into an office, which removed him from the manufacture of the treaty, had, by his credit with the then great director, acquired for us theſe, or any of theſe objects, the poſſeſſion of Guadaloupe or Martinique, or the renewal of the Aſſiento, he might have held his head high in his country; becauſe he would have performed real ſervice; ten thouſand times more real ſervice, than all the oeconomy of which this writer is perpetually talking, or all the little tricks of finance which the experteſt juggler of the treaſury can practiſe, could amount to in a thouſand years. But the occaſion is loſt; the time is gone, perhaps, for ever.

[30]AS to the third requiſite, alliance, there too the author is ſilent. What ſtrength of that kind did they acquire? they got no one new ally; they ſtript the enemy of not a ſingle old one. They diſguſted (how juſtly, or unjuſtly, matters not) every ally we had; and from that time to this, we ſtand friendleſs in Europe. But of this naked condition of their country, I know ſome people are not aſhamed. They have their ſyſtem of politics; our anceſtors grew great by another. In this manner theſe virtuous men concluded the peace; and their practice is only conſonant to their theory.

MANY things more might be obſerved on this curious head of our author's ſpeculations. But, taking leave of what the writer ſays in his ſerious part, if he be ſerious in any part, I ſhall only juſt point out a piece of his pleaſantry. No man, I believe, ever denied that the time for making peace is that in which the beſt terms may be obtained. But what that time is, together with the uſe that has been made of it, we are to judge by ſeeing whether terms adequate to our advantages, and to our neceſſities, have been actually obtained.—Here is the pinch of the queſtion, and to which the author ought to have ſet his ſhoulders in earneſt. Inſtead of doing this, he ſlips out of the harneſs by a jeſt; and ſneeringly tells us, that, to determine this point, we muſt know the ſecrets of the French and Spaniſh cabinets,s and that parliament [31] was pleaſed to approve the treaty of peace without calling for the correſpondence concerning it. How juſt this ſarcaſm on that parliament may be, I ſay not; but how becoming in the author, I leave it to his friends to determine.

HAVING thus gone through the queſtions of war and peace, the author proceeds to ſtate our debt, and the intereſt which it carried, at the time of the treaty, with the unfairneſs and inaccuracy, however, which diſtinguiſh all his aſſertions, and all his calculations. To detect every fallacy, and rectify every miſtake, would be endleſs. It will be enough to point out a few of them, in order to ſhew how unſafe it is to place any thing like an implicit truſt in ſuch a writer.

THE intereſt of debt contracted during the war is ſtated by the author at £. 2.614.892. The particulars appear in pages 14 and 15. Among them is ſtated the unfunded debt, £. 9.975.017, ſuppoſed to carry intereſt on a medium at 3 per cent. which amounts to £. 299.250. We are referred to the Conſiderations on the Trade and Finances of the Kingdom, p. 22, for the particulars of that unfunded debt. Turn to the work, and to the place referred to by the author himſelf, if you have a mind to ſee a clear detection of a capital fallacy of this article in his account. You will there ſee that this unfunded debt conſiſts of the nine following articles; the remaining ſubſidy to the duke of Brunſwick; the remaining dedommagement to the landgrave of Heſſe; the German demands; the army and ordnance extraordinaries; the deficiencies of grants and funds; Mr. Touchet's claim; the debts due to Nova Scotia and Barbadoes; exchequer bills; and navy debt. The extreme fallacy of this ſtate cannot eſcape any reader who will be at the pains to compare the intereſt money, with [32] which he affirms us to have been loaded, in his State of the Nation, with the items of the principal debt to which he refers in his Conſiderations. The reader muſt obſerve, that of this long liſt of nine articles, only two, the exchequer bills, and part of the navy debt, carried any intereſt at all. The firſt amounted to £. 1.800.000; and this undoubtedly carried intereſt. The whole navy debt indeed amounted to £. 4.576.915; but of this only a part carried intereſt. The author of the Conſiderations, &c. labours to prove this very point in p. 18; and Mr. G. has always defended himſelf upon the ſame ground, for the inſufficient proviſion he made for the diſcharge of that debt. The reader may ſee their own authority for it.t

MR. G. did in fact provide no more than £. 2.150.000 for the diſcharge of theſe bills in two years. It is much to be wiſhed that theſe gentlemen [33] would lay their heads together, that they would conſider well this matter, and agree upon ſomething. For when the ſcanty proviſion made for the unfunded debt is to be vindicated, then we are told it is a very ſmall part of that debt which carries intereſt. But when the public is to be repreſented in a miſerable condition, and the conſequences of the late war to be laid before us in dreadful colours, then we are to be told that the unfunded debt is within a trifle of ten millions, and ſo large a portion of it carries intereſt that we muſt not compute leſs than 3 per cent. upon the whole.

IN the year 1764, parliament voted £. 650.000 towards the diſcharge of the navy debt. This ſum could not be applied ſolely to the diſcharge of bills carrying intereſt; becauſe part of the debt due on ſeamens wages muſt have been paid, and ſome bills carried no intereſt at all. Notwithſtanding this, we find by an account in the journals of the H. of C. in the following ſeſſion, that the navy debt carrying intereſt was on the 31ſt of December 1764 no more than £. 1.687,442. I am ſure therefore that I admit too much when I admit the navy debt carrying intereſt, after the creation of the navy annuities in the year 1763, to have been £. 2.200,000. Add the exchequer bills; and the whole unfunded debt carrying intereſt will be four millions inſtead of ten; and the annual intereſt paid for it at 4 per cent. will be £. 160.000 inſtead of £. 299.250. An error of no ſmall magnitude, and which could not have been owing to inadvertency.

THE miſrepreſentation of the encreaſe of the peace eſtabliſhment is ſtill more extraordinary than that of the intereſt on the unfunded debt. The encreaſe is great undoubtedly. However, the author finds no fault with it, and urges it only as a [34] matter of argument to ſupport the ſtrange chimerical propoſals he is to make us in the cloſe of his work for the encreaſe of revenue. The greater he made that eſtabliſhment, the ſtronger he expected to ſtand in argument: but, whatever he expected or propoſed, he ſhould have ſtated the matter fairly. He tells us that this eſtabliſhment is near £. 1.500.000 more than it was in 1752, 1753, and other years of peace. This he has done in his uſual manner, by aſſertion, without troubling himſelf either with proof or probability. For he has not given us any ſtate of the peace eſtabliſhment in the years 1753 and 1754, the time which he means to compare with the preſent. As I am obliged to force him to that preciſion, from which he always flies as from his moſt dangerous enemy, I have been at the trouble to ſearch the journals in the period between the two laſt wars: and I find that the peace eſtabliſhment, conſiſting of the navy, the ordnance, and the ſeveral incidental expences, amounted to £. 2.346.594. Now is this writer wild enough to imagine, that the peace eſtabliſhment of 1764 and the ſubſequent years, made up from the ſame articles, is £. 3.800.000, and upwards? His aſſertion however goes to this. But I muſt take the liberty of correcting him in this groſs miſtake, and from an authority he cannot refuſe, from his favourite work, and ſtanding authority, the Conſiderations. We find there, p. 43,u the peace eſtabliſhment [35] of 1764 and 1765 ſtated at £. 3.609.700. This is near two hundred thouſand pounds leſs than that given in the State of the Nation. But even from this, in order to render the articles which compoſe the peace eſtabliſhment in the two periods correſpondent (for otherwiſe they cannot be compared), we muſt deduct firſt, his articles of the deficiency of land and malt, which amount to £. 300.000. They certainly are no part of the eſtabliſhment; nor are they included in that ſum, which I have ſtated above for the eſtabliſhment in the time of the former peace. If they were proper to be ſtated at all, they ought to be ſtated in both accounts. We muſt alſo deduct the deficiencies of funds, £. 202.400. Theſe deficiencies are the difference between the intereſt charged on the public for monies borrowed, and the produce of the taxes laid for the diſcharge of that intereſt. Annual proviſion is indeed to be made for them by parliament: but in the enquiry before us, which is only what charge is brought on the public by intereſt paid or to be paid for money borrowed, the utmoſt that the author ſhould do is to bring into the account the full intereſt for all that money. This he has done in p. 15; and he repeats it in p. 18, the very page I am now examining, £. 2.614.892. To comprehend afterwards in the peace eſtabliſhment the deficiency of the fund created for payment of that intereſt, would be laying twice to the account of the war part of the ſame ſum. Suppoſe ten millions borrowed at 4 per cent. and the fund for payment of the intereſt to produce no more than £. 200.000. The whole annual charge on the [36] public is £. 400.000. It can be no more. But to charge the intereſt in one part of the account, and then the deficiency in the other, would be charging £. 600.000. The deficiency of funds muſt therefore be alſo deducted from the peace eſtabliſhment in the Conſiderations; and then the peace eſtabliſhment in that author will be reduced to the ſame articles with thoſe included in the ſum I have already mentioned for the peace eſtabliſhment before the laſt war, in the year 1753, and 1754.

  £.
Peace eſtabliſhment in the Conſiderations, 3.609.700
Deduct deficiency of land and malt,300.000 
Ditto of funds,202.400 
  502.400
  3.107.300
Peace eſtabliſhment before the late war, in which no deficiencies of land and malt, or funds, are included, 2.346.594
 Difference, £.760.706

Being about half the ſum which our author has been pleaſed to ſuppoſe it.

Let us put the whole together. The author ſtates, £.
Difference of peace eſtabliſhment before and ſince the war, 1.500.000
Intereſt of debt contracted by the war, 2.614.892
  4.114.892
[37]The real difference in the peace eſtabliſhment is,760.706 
The actual intereſt of the funded debt, including that charged on the ſinking fund,2.315.642 
The actual intereſt of unfunded debt at moſt,160.000 
Total intereſt of debt contracted by the war,2.475.642 
Encreaſe of peace eſtabliſhment, and intereſt of the new debt, 3.236.348
 Error of the author, £.878.544

IT is true, the extraordinaries of the army have been found conſiderably greater than the author of the Conſiderations was pleaſed to foretell they would be. The author of the Preſent State avails himſelf of that encreaſe, and, finding it ſuit his purpoſe, ſets the whole down in the peace-eſtabliſhment of the preſent times. If this is allowed him, his error perhaps may be reduced to £. 700.000. But I doubt the author of the Conſiderations will not thank him for admitting £. 200.000. and upwards, as the peace-eſtabliſhment for extraordinaries, when that author has ſo much laboured to confine them within £. 35.000.

THESE are ſome of the capital fallacies of the author. To break the thread of my diſcourſe as little as poſſible, I have thrown into the margin many inſtances, though God knows far from the whole, of his inaccuracies, inconſiſtencies, and want of common care. I think myſelf obliged to take ſome notice of them, in order to take off from any authority this writer may have; and to put an end to the deference which careleſs men are apt to pay to one who boldly arrays his accounts, and marſhals [38] his figures, in perfect confidence that their correctneſs will never be examined.w

HOWEVER, for argument, I am content to take his ſtate of it. The debt was and is enormous. The war was expenſive. The beſt oeconomy had not perhaps been uſed. But I muſt obſerve, that war and oeconomy are things not eaſily reconciled; and that the attempt of leaning towards parſimony [39] in ſuch a ſtate may be the worſt management, and in the end the worſt oeconomy in the world, hazarding the total loſs of all the charge incurred, and of every thing elſe along with it.

BUT cui bono all this detail of our debt? has the author given a ſingle light towards any material reduction of it? Not a glimmering. We ſhall ſee in its place what ſort of thing he propoſes. But before he commences his operations, in order to ſcare the public imagination, he raiſes by art magic a thick miſt before our eyes, through which glare the moſt ghaſtly and horrible phantoms:

Hunc igitur terrorem animi tenebrasque neceſſe eſt,
Non radii ſolis, neque lucida tela diei
Diſcutiant, ſed naturae ſpecies ratioque.

Let us therefore calmly, if we can for the fright into which he has put us, appreciate thoſe dreadful and deformed gorgons and hydras, which inhabit the joyleſs regions of an imagination, fruitful in nothing but the production of monſters.

HIS whole repreſentation is founded on the ſuppoſed operation of our debt, upon our manufactures, and our trade. To this cauſe he attributes a certain ſuppoſed dearneſs of the neceſſaries of life, which muſt compel our manufacturers to emigrate to cheaper countries, particularly to France, and with them the manufacture. Thence conſumption declining, and with it revenue. He will not permit the real balance of our trade to be eſtimated ſo high £. 2.500.000; and the intereſt of the debt to foreigners carries off £. 1.500.000 of that balance. France is not in the ſame condition. Then follow his wailings and lamentings, which he renews over and over, according to his cuſtom—a declining trade, and decreaſing ſpecie—on the point of becoming tributary to France—of [40] loſing Ireland—of having the colonies torn away from us.

THE firſt thing upon which I ſhall obſerve is, what he takesx for granted as the cleareſt of all propoſitions, the emigration of our manufacturers to France. I undertake to ſay that this aſſertion is totally groundleſs, and I challenge the author to bring any ſort of proof of it. If living is cheaper in France, that is, to be had for leſs ſpecie, wages are proportionably lower. No manufacturer, let the living be what it will, was ever known to fly for refuge to low wages. Money is the firſt thing which attracts him. Accordingly our wages attract artificers from all parts of the world. From two ſhillings to one ſhilling, is a fall, in all mens imaginations, which no calculation upon a difference in the price of the neceſſaries of life can compenſate. But it will be hard to prove, that a French artificer is better fed, cloathed, lodged, and warmed, than one in England; for that is the ſenſe, and the only ſenſe, of living cheaper. If, in truth and fact, our artificer farcs as well in all theſe reſpects as one in the ſame ſtate in France—how ſtands the matter in point of opinion and prejudice, the ſprings by which people in that claſs of life are chiefly actuated! The idea of our common people, concerning French living, is dreadful; altogether as dreadful as our author's can poſſibly be of the ſtate of his own country; a way of thinking that will hardly ever prevail on them to deſert to France.y

[41]BUT, leaving the author's ſpeculations, the fact is, that they have not deſerted; and of courſe the manufacture cannot be departed, or departing, with them. I am not indeed able to get at all the details of all our manufactures; though, I think, I have taken full as much pains for that purpoſe as our author. Some I have by me; and they do not hitherto, thank God, ſupport the author's complaint, unleſs a vaſt encreaſe of the quantity of goods manufactured be a proof of loſing the manufacture. On a view of the regiſters in the Weſtriding of Yorkſhire, for three years before the war, and for the three laſt, it appears, that the quantities of cloths entered were as follow:

 Pieces broad. Pieces narrow.
1752.60.724 72.442
1753.55.358 71.618
1754.56.070 72.394
 172.152 216.454

 Pieces broad. Pieces narrow.
1765.54.660 77.419
1766.72.575 78.893
1767.102.428 78.819
3 years, ending 1767,229.663 235.131
3 years, ending 1754,172.152 216.454
Encreaſe,57.511Encreaſe,18.677

IN this manner this capital branch of manufacture has encreaſed, under the encreaſe of taxes; and this not from a declining, but from a greatly flouriſhing period of commerce. I may ſay the [42] ſame on the beſt authority of the fabric of thin goods at Halifax; of the bays at Rochdale; and of that infinite variety of admirable manufactures that grow and extend every year among the ſpirited, inventive, and enterprizing traders of Mancheſter.

A TRADE ſometimes ſeems to periſh when it only aſſumes a different form. Thus the coarſeſt woollens were formerly exported in great quantities to Ruſſia. The Ruſſians now ſupply themſelves with theſe goods. But the export thither of finer cloths has encreaſed in proportion as the other has declined. Poſſibly ſome parts of the kingdom may have felt ſomething like a languor in buſineſs. Objects like trade and manufacture, which the very attempt to confine would certainly deſtroy, frequently change their place; and thereby, far from being loſt, are often highly improved. Thus ſome manufactures have decayed in the weſt and ſouth, which have made new and more vigorous ſhoots when tranſplanted into the north. And here it is impoſſible to paſs by, though the author has ſaid nothing upon it, the vaſt addition to the maſs of Britiſh trade, which has been made by the improvement of Scotland. What does he think of the commerce of the city of Glaſgow, and of the manufactures of Paiſley and all the adjacent county? has this any thing like the deadly aſpect and facies Hippocratica which the falſe diagnoſtic of our ſtate phyſician has given to our trade in general? has he not heard of the iron works of ſuch magnitude even in their cradle which are ſet up on the Carron, and which at the ſame time have drawn nothing from Sheffield, Birmingham, or Wolverhampton?

THIS might perhaps be enough to ſhew the entire falſity of the complaint concerning the decline of our manufactures. But every ſtep we advance, [43] this matter clears up more and more; and the falſe terrors of the author are diſſipated, and fade away as the light appears. ‘"The trade and manufactures of this country (ſays he) going to ruin, and a diminution of our revenue from conſumption muſt attend the loſs of ſo many ſeamen and artificers."’ Nothing more true than the general obſervation: nothing more falſe than its application to our circumſtances. Let the revenue on conſumption ſpeak for itſelf:

  £.
Average of net exciſe, ſince the new duties, three years ending 1767, 4.590.734
Ditto before the new duties, three years ending 1759, 3.261.694
 Average encreaſe, £.1.329.040

Here is no diminution. Here is, on the contrary, an immenſe encreaſe. This is owing, I ſhall be told, to the new duties, which may encreaſe the total bulk, but at the ſame time may make ſome diminution of the produce of the old. Were this the fact, it would be far from ſupporting the author's complaint. It might have proved that the burthen lay rather too heavy; but it would never prove that the revenue from conſumption was impaired, which it was his buſineſs to do. But what is the real fact? Let us take, as the beſt inſtance for the purpoſe, the produce of the old hereditary and temporary exciſe granted in the reign of Charles the ſecond, whoſe object is that of moſt of the new impoſitions, from two averages, each of eight years:

  £.
Average, firſt period, eight years, ending 1754, 525.317
Ditto, ſecond period, eight years, ending 1767, 538.542
 Encreaſe, £.13.225

I have taken theſe averages as including in each, a war and a peace period; the firſt before the impoſition of the new duties, the other ſince thoſe impoſitions; and ſuch is the ſtate of the oldeſt branch of the revenue from conſumption. Beſides the acquiſition of ſo much new, this article, to ſpeak of no other, has rather encreaſed under the preſſure of all thoſe additional taxes to which the author is pleaſed to attribute its deſtruction. But as the author has made his grand effort againſt thoſe moderate, judicious, and neceſſary levies, which ſupport all the dignity, the credit, and the power of his country, the reader will excuſe a little further detail on this ſubject; that we may ſee how little oppreſſive thoſe taxes are on the ſhoulders of the public, with which he labours ſo earneſtly to load its imagination. For this purpoſe we take the ſtate of that ſpecific article upon which the two capital burthens of the war leaned the moſt immediately, by the additional duties on malt, and upon beer:

Average of ſtrong beer, brewed in eight years before the additional malt and beer duties, 3.895.059 Bar.
Average of ſtrong beer, eight years ſince the duties, 4.060.726 Bar.
 Encreaſe in the laſt period,165.667 Bar.

[45] Here is the effect of two ſuch daring taxes as 3d. by the buſhel additional on malt, and 3s. by the barrel additional on beer. Two impoſitions laid without remiſſion one upon the neck of the other; and laid upon an object which before had been immenſely loaded. They did not in the leaſt impair the conſumption: it has grown under them. It appears that, upon the whole, the people did not feel ſo much inconvenience from the new duties as to oblige them to take refuge in the private brewery. Quite the contrary happened in both theſe reſpects in the reign of king William; and it happened from much ſlighter impoſitions.z No people can long conſume a commodity for which they are not well able to pay. An enlightened reader laughs at the inconſiſtent chimera of our author, of a people univerſally luxurious, and at the ſame time oppreſſed with taxes and declining in trade. For my part, I cannot look on theſe duties as the author does. He ſees nothing but the burthen. I can perceive the burthen as well as he; but I cannot avoid contemplating alſo the ſtrength that ſupports it. From thence I draw the moſt comfortable aſſurances of the future vigour, and the ample reſources, of this great miſrepreſented country; and can never prevail on myſelf to make complaints which have no cauſe, in order to raiſe hopes which have no foundation.

[46]WHEN a repreſentation is built on truth and nature, one member ſupports the other, and mutual lights are given and received from every part. Thus, as our manufacturers have not deſerted, nor the manufacture left us, nor the conſumption declined, nor the revenue ſunk; ſo neither has trade, which is at once the reſult, meaſure, and cauſe of the whole, in the leaſt decayed, as our author has thought proper ſometimes to affirm, conſtantly to ſuppoſe, as if it were the moſt indiſputable of all propoſitions. The reader will ſee below the comparative ſtate of our trade in three of the beſt years before our encreaſe of debt and taxes, and with it the three laſt years ſince the author's date of our ruin.a

IN the laſt three years the whole of our exports was between 44 and 45 millions. In the three years preceding the war, it was no more than from [47] 35 to 36 millions. The average balance of the former period was £. 3.706.000; of the latter, ſomething above four millions. It is true, that whilſt the impreſſions of the author's deſtructive war continued, our trade was greater than it is at preſent. One of the neceſſary conſequences of the peace was, that France muſt gradually recover a part of thoſe markets of which ſhe had been originally in poſſeſſion. However, after all theſe deductions, ſtill the groſs trade in the worſt year of the preſent is better than in the beſt year of any former period of peace. A very great part of our taxes, if not the greateſt, has been impoſed ſince the beginning of this century. On the author's principles, this continual encreaſe of taxes muſt have ruined our trade, or at leaſt entirely checked its growth. But I have a manuſcript of Davenant, which contains an abſtract of our trade for the years 1703 and 1704; by which it appears, that the whole export from England did not then exceed £. 6.552.019. It is now conſiderably more than double that amount. Yet England was then a rich and flouriſhing nation.

THE author endeavours to derogate from the balance in our favour as it ſtands on the entries, and reduces it from four millions as it there appears to no more than £. 2.500.000. His obſervation on the looſeneſs and inaccuracy of the export entries is juſt; and that the error is always an error of exceſs, I readily admit. But becauſe, as uſual, he has wholly omitted ſome very material facts, his concluſion is as erroneous as the entries he complains of.

ON this point of the cuſtom-houſe entries I ſhall make a few obſervations. 1ſt, The inaccuracy of theſe entries can extend only to FREE GOODS, that is, to ſuch Britiſh products and manufactures, [48] as are exported without drawback and without bounty; which do not in general amount to more than two-thirds at the very utmoſt of the whole export even of our home products. The valuable articles of corn, malt, leather, hops, beer, and many others, do not come under this objection of inaccuracy. The article of CERTIFICATE GOODS reexported, a vaſt branch of our commerce, admits of no error (except ſome ſmaller frauds which cannot be eſtimated), as they have all a drawback of duty, and the exporter muſt therefore correctly ſpecify their quantity and kind. The author therefore is not warranted from the known error in ſome of the entries, to make a general defalcation from the whole balance in our favour. This error cannot affect more than half, if ſo much, of the export article. 2dly, In the account made up at the inſpector general's office, they eſtimate only the original coſt of Britiſh products as they are here purchaſed; and on foreign goods, only the prices in the country from whence they are ſent. This was the method eſtabliſhed by Mr. Davenant; and, as far as it goes, it certainly is a good one. But the profits of the merchant at home, and of our factories abroad, are not taken into the account: which profit on ſuch an immenſe quantity of goods exported and re-exported cannot fail of being very great: five per cent. upon the whole, I ſhould think a very moderate allowance. 3dly, It does not comprehend the advantage ariſing from the employment of 600.000 tons of ſhipping, which muſt be paid by the foreign conſumer, and which, in many bulky articles of commerce, is equal to the value of the commodity. This can ſcarcely be rated at leſs than a million annually. 4thly, The whole import from Ireland and America, and from the Weſt Indies, is ſet againſt us in the ordinary way of ſtriking a balance of imports [49] and exports; whereas the import and export are both our own. This is juſt as ridiculous, as to put againſt the general balance of the nation, how much more goods Cheſhire receives from London, than London from Cheſhire. The whole revolves and circulates through this kingdom, and is, ſo far as it regards our profit, in the nature of home trade, as much as if the ſeveral countries of America and Ireland were all pieced to Cornwall. The courſe of exchange with all theſe places is fully ſufficient to demonſtrate that this kingdom has the whole advantage of their commerce. When the final profit upon a whole ſyſtem of trade reſts and centers in a certain place, a balance ſtruck in that place merely on the mutual ſale of commodities is quite fallacious. 5thly, The cuſtom-houſe entries furniſh a moſt defective, and indeed ridiculous idea, of the moſt valuable branch of trade we have in the world, that with Newfoundland. Obſerve what, you export thither; a little ſpirits, proviſion, fiſhing lines, and fiſhing hooks. Is the export the true idea of the Newfoundland trade in the light of a beneficial branch of commerce? nothing leſs. Examine our imports from thence; it ſeems, upon this vulgar idea of exports and imports, to turn the balance againſt you. But your exports to Newfoundland are your own goods. Your import is your own food; as much your own, as that you raiſe with your ploughs out of your own ſoil; and not your loſs, but your gain; your riches, not your poverty. But ſo fallacious is this way of judging, that neither the export nor import, nor both together, ſupply any idea approaching to adequate of that branch of buſineſs. The veſſels in that trade go ſtrait from Newfoundland to the foreign market; and the ſale there, not the import here, is the meaſure of its value. That trade which is one of your greateſt and beſt is hardly ſo [50] much as ſeen in the cuſtom-houſe entries; and it is not of leſs annual value to this nation than £. 400.000. 6thly, The quality of your imports muſt be conſidered as well as the quantity. To ſtate the whole of the foreign import as loſs, is exceedingly abſurd. All the iron, hemp, flax, cotton, Spaniſh wool, raw ſilk, woollen and linen yarn, which we import, are by no means to be conſidered as the matter of a merely luxurious conſumption; which is the idea too generally and looſely annexed to our import article. Theſe above-mentioned are materials of induſtry, not of luxury, which are wrought up here, in many inſtances, to ten times, and more, of their original value. Even where they are not ſubſervient to our exports, they ſtill add to our internal wealth, which conſiſts in the ſtock of uſeful commodities, as much as in gold and ſilver. In looking over the ſpecific articles of our export and import, I have often been aſtoniſhed to ſee for how ſmall a part of the ſupply of our conſumption, either luxurious or convenient, we are indebted to nations properly foreign to us.

THESE conſiderations are entirely paſſed over by the author; they have been but too much neglected by moſt who have ſpeculated on this ſubject. But they ought never to be omitted by thoſe who mean to come to any thing like the true ſtate of the Britiſh trade. They compenſate, and they more than compenſate, every thing which the author can cut off with any appearance of reaſon for the over-entry of Britiſh goods; and they reſtore to us that balance of four millions, which the author has thought proper on ſuch a very poor and limited comprehenſion of the object to reduce to £. 2.500.000.

IN general this author is ſo circumſtanced, that to ſupport his theory he is obliged to aſſume his [51] facts; and then, if you allow his facts, they will not ſupport his concluſions. What if all he ſays of the ſtate of this balance were true? did not the ſame objections always lie to cuſtom-houſe entries? do they defalcate more from the entries of 1766 than from thoſe of 1754? If they prove us ruined, we were always ruined. Some ravens have always indeed croaked out this kind of ſong. They have a malignant delight in preſaging miſchief, when they are not employed in doing it: they are miſerable and diſappointed at every inſtance of the public proſperity. They overlook us like the malevolent being of the poet:

Tritonida conſpicit arcem
Ingeniis, opibuſque, et feſta pace virentem;
Vixque tenet lacrymas quia nil lacrymabile cernit.

IT is in this ſpirit that ſome have looked upon thoſe accidents that caſt an occaſional damp upon trade. Their imaginations entail theſe accidents upon us in perpetuity. We have had ſome bad harveſts. This muſt very diſadvantageouſly affect the balance of trade, and the navigation of a people, ſo large a part of whoſe commerce is in grain. But, in knowing the cauſe, we are morally certain, that, according to the courſe of events, it cannot long ſubſiſt. In the three laſt years, we have exported ſcarcely any grain; in good years, that export hath been worth twelve hundred thouſand pounds and more; in the two laſt years, far from exporting, we have been obliged to import to the amount perhaps of our former exportation. So that in this article the balance muſt be £. 2.000.000 againſt us; that is, one million in the ceaſing of gain, the other in the encreaſe of expenditure. But none of the author's promiſes or projects could have prevented this misfortune; and, thank God, we do not want him or them to relieve us from it; [52] although, if his friends ſhould now come into power, I doubt not but they will be ready to take credit for any encreaſe of trade or exciſe, that may ariſe from the happy circumſtance of a good harveſt.

THIS connects with his loud laments and melancholy prognoſtications concerning the high price of the neceſſaries of life and the products of labour. With all his others, I deny this fact; and I again call upon him to prove it. Take average and not accident, the grand and firſt neceſſary of life is cheap in this country; and that too as weighed, not againſt labour, which is its true counterpoiſe, but againſt money. Does he call the price of wheat at this day, between 32 and 40 ſhillings per quarter in London, dear?b He muſt know that fuel (an object of the higheſt order in the neceſſaries of life, and of the firſt neceſſity in almoſt every kind of manufacture) is in many of our provinces cheaper than in any part of the globe. Meat is on the whole not exceſſively dear, whatever its price may be at particular times and from particular accidents. If it has had any thing like an uniform riſe, this enhancement may eaſily be proved not to be owing to the encreaſe of taxes, but to uniform encreaſe of conſumption and of money. Diminiſh the latter, and meat in your markets will be ſufficiently cheap in account, but much dearer in effect: becauſe fewer will be in a condition to buy. Thus your apparent plenty will be real indigence. At preſent, even under temporary diſadvantages, the uſe of fleſh is greater here than any where elſe; it is continued without any interruption of Lents or meagre days; it is ſuſtained and growing even with the encreaſe of our taxes. But ſome have the art of converting [53] even the ſigns of national proſperity into ſymptoms of decay and ruin. And our author, who ſo loudly diſclaims popularity, never fails to lay hold of the moſt vulgar popular prejudices and humours, in hopes to captivate the croud. Even thoſe peeviſh diſpoſitions which grow out of ſome tranſitory ſuffering, thoſe paſſing clouds which float in our changeable atmoſphere; are by him induſtriouſly figured into frightful ſhapes, in order firſt to terrify and then to govern the populace.

IT was not enough for the author's purpoſe to give this falſe and diſcouraging picture of the ſtate of his own country. It did not fully anſwer his end, to exaggerate her burthens, to depreciate her ſucceſſes, and to vilify her character. Nothing had been done, unleſs the ſituation of France were exalted in proportion as that of England had been abaſed. The reader will excuſe the citation I make at length from his book; he out-does himſelf upon this occaſion. His confidence is indeed unparalleled, and altogether of the heroic caſt:

‘"IF our rival nations were in the ſame circumſtances with ourſelves, the augmentation of our taxes would produce no ill conſequences: if we were obliged to raiſe our prices, they muſt, from the ſame cauſes, do the like, and could take no advantage by under-ſelling and under-working us. But the alarming conſideration to Great Britain is, that France is not in the ſame condition. Her diſtreſſes, during the war, were great, but they were immediate; her want of credit, as has been ſaid, compelled her to impoveriſh her people, by raiſing the greateſt part of her ſupplies within the year; but the burdens ſhe impoſed on them were, in a great meaſure, temporary, and muſt be greatly diminiſhed by a few years of peace. She could procure no conſiderable loans, therefore [54] ſhe has mortgaged no ſuch oppreſſive taxes as thoſe Great Britain has impoſed in perpetuity for payment of intereſt. Peace muſt, therefore, ſoon re-eſtabliſh her commerce and manufactures, eſpecially as the comparative lightneſs of taxes, and the cheapneſs of living, in that country, muſt make France an aſylum for Britiſh manufacturers and artificers."’ On this the author reſts the merits of his whole ſyſtem. And on this point I will join iſſue with him. If France is not at leaſt in the ſame condition, even in that very condition which the author falſely repreſents to be ours, if the very reverſe of his propoſition be not true, then I will admit his State of the Nation to be juſt; and all his inferences from that ſtate to be logical and concluſive. It is not ſurprizing, that the author ſhould hazard our opinion of his veracity. That is a virtue on which great ſtateſmen do not perhaps pique themſelves ſo much: but it is ſomewhat extraordinary, that he ſhould ſtake on a very poor calculation of chances, all credit for care, for accuracy, and for knowledge of the ſubject of which he treats. He is raſh and inaccurate, becauſe he thinks he writes to a public ignorant and inattentive. But he may find himſelf in that reſpect, as in many others, greatly miſtaken.

IN order to contraſt the light and vigorous condition of France with that of England, weak, and ſinking under her burthens, he ſtates in his 10th page, that France had raiſed £. 50.314.378 ſterling by taxes within the ſeveral years from the year 1756 to 1762 both incluſive. An Engliſhman muſt ſtand aghaſt at ſuch a repreſentation: to find France able to raiſe within the year ſums little inferior to all that we were able even to borrow on intereſt with all the reſources of the greateſt and moſt eſtabliſhed credit in the world! Europe was filled with aſtoniſhment [55] when they ſaw England borrow in one year twelve millions. It was thought, and very juſtly, no ſmall proof of national ſtrength and financial ſkill, to find a fund for the payment of the intereſt upon this ſum. The intereſt of this, computed with the one per cent. annuities, amounted only to £. 600.000 a year. This, I ſay, was thought a ſurpriſing effort even of credit. But this author talks, as of a thing not worth proving, and but juſt worth obſerving, that France in one year raiſed ſixteen times that ſum without borrowing, and continued to raiſe ſums not far from equal to it for ſeveral years together. Suppoſe ſome Jacob Henriques had propoſed, in the year 1762, to prevent a perpetual charge on the nation by raiſing ten millions within the year. He would have been conſidered, not as a harſh financier, who laid an heavy hand on the public; but as a poor viſionary, who had run mad on ſupplies and taxes. They who know that the whole land tax of England, at 4s. in the pound, raiſes but two millions; will not eaſily apprehend that any ſuch ſums as the author has conjured up can be raiſed even in the moſt opulent nations. France owed a large debt, and was incumbered with heavy eſtabliſhments, before that war. The author does not formally deny that ſhe borrowed ſomething in every year of its continuance; let him produce the funds for this aſtoniſhing annual addition to all her vaſt preceding taxes, an addition equal to the whole exciſe, cuſtoms, land and malt taxes of England taken together.

BUT what muſt be the reader's aſtoniſhment, perhaps his indignation, if he ſhould find that this great financier has fallen into the moſt unaccountable of all errors, no leſs an error than that of miſtaking the identical ſums borrowed by France upon intereſt, for ſupplies raiſed within the year. Can it [56] be conceived that any man only entered into the firſt rudiments of finance ſhould make ſo egregious a blunder; ſhould write it, ſhould print it; ſhould carry it to a ſecond edition; ſhould take it not collaterally and incidentally, but lay it down as the corner ſtone of his whole ſyſtem, in ſuch an important point as the comparative ſtates of France and England? But it will be ſaid, that it was his misfortune to be ill informed. Not at all. A man of any looſe general knowledge, and of the moſt ordinary ſagacity, never could have been miſinformed in ſo groſs a manner; becauſe he would have immediately rejected ſo wild and extravagant an account.

THE fact is this: the credit of France, bad as it might have been, did enable her (not to raiſe within the year) but to borrow the very ſums the author mentions; that is to ſay, 1.106.916.261 livres, making, in the author's computation, £. 50.314.378. The credit of France was low; but it was not annihilated. She did not derive, as our author chooſes to aſſert, any advantages from the debility of her credit. Its conſequence was the natural one: ſhe borrowed; but ſhe borrowed upon bad terms, indeed on the moſt exorbitant uſury.

IN ſpeaking of a foreign revenue, the very pretence to accuracy would be the moſt inaccurate thing in the world. Neither the author nor I can with certainty authenticate the information we communicate to the public, nor in an affair of eternal fluctuation arrive at perfect exactneſs. All we can do, and this we may be expected to do, is to avoid groſs errors and blunders of a capital nature. We cannot order the proper officer to lay the accounts before the houſe. But the reader muſt judge on the probability of the accounts we lay before him. The author ſpeaks of France as raiſing her ſupplies [57] for war by taxes within the year; and of her debt, as a thing ſcarcely worthy of notice. I affirm that ſhe borrowed large ſums in every year; and has thereby accumulated an immenſe debt. This debt continued after the war infinitely to embarraſs her affairs; and to find ſome means for its reduction was then and has ever ſince been the firſt object of her policy. But ſhe has ſo little ſucceeded in all her efforts, that the perpetual debt of France is at this hour little ſhort of £. 100.000.000 ſterling; and ſhe ſtands charged with at leaſt 40.000.000 of Engliſh pounds on life-rents and tontines. The annuities paid at this day at the hotel de Ville of Paris, which are by no means her ſole payments of that nature, amount to 139.000.000 of livres, that is, to 6.318.000 pounds; beſides billets au porteur, and various detached and unfunded debts, to a great amount, and which bear an intereſt.

AT the end of the war, the intereſt payable on her debt amounted to upwards of ſeven millions ſterling. M. de la Verdy, the laſt hope of the French finances, was called in, to aid in the reduction of an intereſt, ſo light to our author, ſo intolerably heavy upon thoſe who are to pay it. After many unſucceſsful efforts towards reconciling arbitrary reduction with public credit, he was obliged to go the plain high road of power, and to impoſe a tax of 10 per cent. upon a very great part of the capital debt of that kingdom; and this meaſure of preſent eaſe, to the deſtruction of future credit, produced about £. 500.000 a year, which was carried to their caiſſe d'amortiſſement or ſinking fund. But ſo unfaithfully and unſteadily has this and all the other articles which compoſe that fund been applied to their purpoſes, that they have given the ſtate but very little even of preſent relief, ſince it is known to the whole world that ſhe is behind-hand [58] on every one of her eſtabliſhments. Since the year 1763, there has been no operation of any conſequence on the French finances: and in this enviable condition is France at preſent with regard to her debt.

EVERY body knows that the principal of the debt is but a name; the intereſt is the only thing which can diſtreſs a nation. Take this idea, which will not be diſputed, and compare the intereſt paid by England with that paid by France:

  £.
Intereſt paid by France, funded and unfunded, for perpetuity or on lives, after the tax of 10 per cent. 6.500.000
Intereſt paid by England, as ſtated by the author, p. 27, 4.600.000
Intereſt paid by France exceeds that paid by England,£.1.900.000

The author cannot complain, that I ſtate the intereſt paid by England as too low. He takes it himſelf as the extremeſt term. Nobody who knows any thing of the French finances will affirm that I ſtate the intereſt paid by that kingdom too high. It might be eaſily proved to amount to a great deal more: even this is near two millions above what is paid by England.

THERE are three ſtandards to judge of the good condition of a nation with regard to its finances. 1ſt, The relief of the people. 2d, The equality of ſupplies to eſtabliſhments. 3d, The ſtate of public credit. Try France on all theſe ſtandards.

ALTHOUGH our author very liberally adminiſters relief to the people of France, its government has not been altogether ſo gracious. Since the peace, [59] ſhe has taken off but a ſingle Vingtieme, or ſhilling in the pound, and ſome ſmall matter in the capitation. But, if the government has relieved them in one point, it has only burthened them the more heavily in another. The Taille, c that grievous and deſtructive impoſition, which all their financiers lament, without being able to remove or to replace, has been augmented no leſs than 6 millions of livres, or 270.000 pounds Engliſh. A further augmentation of this or other duties is now talked of; and it is certainly neceſſary to their affairs: ſo exceedingly remote from either truth or veriſimilitude is the author's amazing aſſertion, that the burthens of France in the war were in a great meaſure temporary, and muſt be greatly diminiſhed by a few years of peace.

IN the next place, if the people of France are not lightened with taxes, ſo neither is the ſtate diſburthened of charges. I ſpeak from very good information, that the annual income of that ſtate is at this day 30 millions of livres, or £. 1.350.000 ſterling, ſhort of a proviſion for their ordinary peace eſtabliſhment; ſo far are they from the attempt or even hope to diſcharge any part of the capital of their enormous debt. Indeed under ſuch extreme ſtraitneſs and diſtraction labours the whole body of their finances, ſo far does their charge outrun their ſupply in every particular, that no man, I believe, who has conſidered their affairs with any degree of attention or information, but muſt hourly look for ſome extraordinary convulſion in that whole ſyſtem; the effect of which on France, and even on all Europe, it is difficult to conjecture.

[60]IN the third point of view, their credit. Let the reader caſt his eye on a table of the price of French funds, as they ſtood a few weeks ago, compared with the ſtate of ſome of our Engliſh ſtocks, even in their preſent low condition:

French.Britiſh.
5 per cents.63.Bank ſtock, 5½,159.
4 per cent. (not taxed)57.4 per cent. conſ.100.
3 per cent. ditto,49.3 per cent. conſ.88.

THIS ſtate of the funds of France and England is ſufficient to convince even prejudice and obſtinacy, that if France and England are not in the ſame condition (as the author affirms they are not) the difference is infinitely to the diſadvantage of France. This depreciation of their funds has not much the air of a nation lightening burthens and diſcharging debts.

SUCH is the true comparative ſtate of the two kingdoms in thoſe capital points of view. Now as to the nature of the taxes which provide for this debt, as well as for their ordinary eſtabliſhments, the author has thought proper to affirm that ‘"they are comparatively light;" that "ſhe has mortgaged no ſuch oppreſſive taxes as ours:"’ his effrontery on this head is intolerable. Does the author recollect a ſingle tax in England to which ſomething parallel in nature, and as heavy in burthen, does not exiſt in France; does he not know that the lands of the nobleſſe are ſtill under the load of the greater part of the old feudal charges, from which the gentry of England have been relieved for upwards of 100 years, and which were in kind, as well as burthen, much worſe than our modern land tax? Beſides that all the gentry of France ſerve in the army on very ſlender pay, and to the utter ruin of their fortunes; all thoſe who are [61] not noble, have their lands heavily taxed. Does he not know that wine, brandy, ſoap, candles, leather, ſalt-petre, gun-powder, are taxed in France? Has he not heard that government in France has made a monopoly of that great article of ſalt? that they compel the people to take a certain quantity of it, and at a certain rate, both rate and quantity fixed at the arbitrary pleaſure of the impoſer?d that they pay in France the Taille, an arbitrary impoſition on preſumed property? that a tax is laid in fact and name, on the ſame arbitrary ſtandard, upon the acquiſitions of their induſtry? and that in France a heavy capitation-tax is alſo paid, from the higheſt to the very pooreſt ſort of people? have we taxes of ſuch weight, or any thing at all of the compulſion, in the article of ſalt? do we pay any taillage, any faculty-tax, any induſtry-tax? do we pay any capitation-tax whatſoever? I believe the people of London would fall into an agony to hear of ſuch taxes propoſed upon them as are paid at Paris. There is not a ſingle article of proviſion for man or beaſt, which enters that great city, and is not exciſed; corn, hay, meal, butchers meat, fiſh, fowls, every thing. I do not here mean to cenſure the policy of taxes laid on the conſumption of great luxurious cities. I only ſtate the fact. We ſhould be with difficulty brought to hear of a tax of 50s. upon every ox ſold in Smithfield. Yet this tax is paid in Paris. Wine, the lower ſort of wine, little better than Engliſh ſmall beer, pays 2d. a bottle. We indeed tax our beer: but the impoſition on ſmall beer is very far from heavy. In no [62] part of England are eatables of any kind the object of taxation. In almoſt every other country in Europe they are exciſed, more or leſs. I have by me the ſtate of the revenues of many of the principal nations on the continent; and, on comparing them with ours, I think I am fairly warranted to aſſert, that England is the moſt lightly taxed of any of the great ſtates of Europe. They whoſe unnatural and ſullen joy ariſes from a contemplation of the diſtreſſes of their country will revolt at this poſition. But, if I am called upon, I will prove it beyond all poſſibility of diſpute; even though this proof ſhould deprive theſe gentlemen of the ſingular ſatisfaction of conſidering their country as undone; and though the beſt civil government, the beſt conſtituted, and the beſt managed revenue that ever the world beheld, ſhould be thoroughly vindicated from their perpetual clamours and complaints. As to our neighbour and rival France, in addition to what I have here ſuggeſted, I ſay, and when the author chooſes formally to deny, I ſhall formally prove it, that her ſubjects pay more than England, on a computation of the wealth of both countries; that her taxes are more injudiciouſly and more oppreſſively impoſed; more vexatiouſly collected: come in a ſmaller proportion to the royal coffers, and are leſs applied by far to the public ſervice. I am not one of thoſe who chooſe to take the author's word for this happy and flouriſhing condition of the French finances, rather than attend to the changes, the violent puſhes, and the deſpair, of all her own financiers. Does he chooſe to be referred for the eaſy and happy condition of the ſubject in France to the remonſtrances of their own parliaments, written with ſuch an eloquence, feeling, and energy, as I have not ſeen exceeded in any other writings? The author may ſay, their complaints are exaggerated, and the effects of faction. [63] I anſwer, that they are the repreſentations of numerous, grave, and moſt reſpectable bodies of men, upon the affairs of their own country. But, allowing that diſcontent and faction may pervert the judgment of ſuch venerable bodies in France, we have as good a right to ſuppoſe that the ſame cauſes may full as probably have produced from a private, however reſpectable perſon, that frightful, and, I truſt I have ſhewn, groundleſs repreſentation of our own affairs in England.

THE author is ſo conſcious of the dangerous effects of that repreſentation, that he thinks it neceſſary, and very neceſſary it is, to guard againſt them. He aſſures us, ‘"that he has not made that diſplay of the difficulties of his country, to expoſe her counſels to the ridicule of other ſtates, or to provoke a vanquiſhed enemy to inſult her; nor to excite the peoples rage againſt their governors, or ſink them into a deſpondency of the public welfare."’ I readily admit this apology for his intentions. God forbid I ſhould think any man capable of entertaining ſo execrable and ſenſeleſs a deſign. The true cauſe of his drawing ſo ſhocking a picture is no more than this; and it ought rather to claim our pity than excite our indignation; he finds himſelf out of power; and this condition is intolerable to him. The ſame ſun which gilds all nature, and exhilarates the whole creation, does not ſhine upon diſappointed ambition. It is ſomething that rays out of darkneſs, and inſpires nothing but gloom and melancholy. Men, in this deplorable ſtate of mind, find a comfort in ſpreading the contagion of their ſpleen. They find an advantage too; for it is a general popular error to imagine the loudeſt complainers for the public to be the moſt anxious for its welfare. [64] If ſuch perſons can anſwer the ends of relief and profit to themſelves, they are apt to be careleſs enough about either the means or the conſequences.

WHATEVER this complainant's motives may be, the effects can by no poſſibility be other than thoſe which he ſo ſtrongly, and I hope truely, diſclaims all intention of producing. To verify this, the reader has only to conſider how dreadful a picture he has drawn in his 32d page of the ſtate of this kingdom; ſuch a picture as, I believe, has hardly been applicable, without ſome exaggeration, to the moſt degenerate and undone commonwealth that ever exiſted. Let this view of things be compared with the proſpect of a remedy which he propoſes in the page directly oppoſite and the ſubſequent. I believe no man living could have imagined it poſſible, except for the ſake of burleſquing a ſubject, to propoſe remedies ſo ridiculouſly diſproportionate to the evil, ſo full of uncertainty in their operation, and depending for their ſucceſs in every ſtep upon the happy event of ſo many new, dangerous, and viſionary projects. It is not amiſs, that he has thought proper to give the public ſome little notice of what they may expect from his friends, when our affairs ſhall be committed to their management. Let us ſee how the accounts of diſeaſe and remedy are balanced in his State of the Nation. In the firſt place, on the ſide of evils, he ſtates, ‘"an impoveriſhed and heavily-burthened public. A declining trade and decreaſing ſpecie. The power of the crown never ſo much extended over the great; but the great without influence over the lower ſort. Parliament loſing its reverence with the people. The voice of the multitude ſet up againſt the ſenſe of the legiſlature; a people luxurious and licentious, impatient [65] of rule, and deſpiſing all authority. Government relaxed in every ſinew, and a corrupt ſelfiſh ſpirit pervading the whole. An opinion of many, that the form of government is not worth contending for. No attachment in the bulk of the people towards the conſtitution. No reverence for the cuſtoms of our anceſtors. No attachment but to private intereſt, nor any zeal but for ſelfiſh gratifications. Trade and manufactures going to ruin. Great Britain in danger of becoming tributary to France, and the deſcent of the crown dependent on her pleaſure. Ireland in caſe of a war to become a prey to France; and Great Britain, unable to recover Ireland, cede it by treaty (the author never can think of a treaty without making ceſſions), in order to purchaſe peace for herſelf. The colonies left expoſed to the ravages of a domeſtic, or the conqueſt of a foreign enemy."’ —Gloomy enough, God knows. The author well obſerves,e that a mind not totally devoid of feeling cannot look upon ſuch a proſpect without horror; and an heart capable of humanity muſt be unable to bear its deſcription. He ought to have added, that no man of common diſcretion ought to have exhibited it to the public, if it were true; or of common honeſty, if it were falſe.

BUT now for the comfort; the day-ſtar which is to ariſe in our hearts; the author's grand ſcheme for totally reverſing this diſmal ſtate of things, and making usf ‘"happy at home and reſpected abroad, formidable in war and flouriſhing in peace."’

IN this great work he proceeds with a facility equally aſtoniſhing and pleaſing. Never was financier leſs embarraſſed by the burthen of eſtabliſhments, [...] [68] two laſt years as given by the author himſelf, and laſtly the new project of his political millennium:

 £.
Plan of eſtabliſhment for 1764, as by Conſiderations, p. 43,i 3.609.700
Medium of 1767 and 1768, as by State of the Nation, p. 29 and 30,3.919.375
Preſent peace eſtabliſhment, as by the project in State of the Nation, p. 33,3.468.161

IT is not from any thing our author has any where ſaid, that you are enabled to find the ground, much leſs the juſtification, of the immenſe difference between theſe ſeveral ſyſtems; you muſt compare them yourſelf, article by article; no very pleaſing employment, by the way, to compare the agreement or diſagreement of two chimeras. I now only ſpeak of the compariſon of his own two projects. As to the latter of them, it differs from the former, by having ſome of the articles diminiſhed, and others encreaſed.k I find the chief article of reduction ariſes from the ſmaller deficiency of land and malt, and of the annuity funds, which he brings down to £. 295.561 in his new eſtimate, from £. 502.400, which he had allowed for thoſe articles in the Conſiderations. With this reduction, owing, as it muſt be, merely to a ſmaller deficiency of funds, he has nothing at all to do. It can be no work and no merit of his. But with regard to the encreaſe, the matter is very different. It is all his own; the public is loaded (for any thing we can ſee to the contrary) entirely gratis. The chief articles of the l encreaſe [69] are on the navy, and on the army and ordnance extraordinaries; the navy being eſtimated in his State of the Nation £. 50.000 a year more, and the army and ordnance extraordinaries £. 40.000 more, than he had thought proper to allow for them in that eſtimate in his Conſiderations, which he makes the foundation of his preſent project. He has given no ſort of reaſon, ſtated no ſort of neceſſity, for this additional allowance, either in the one article or the other. What is ſtill ſtronger, he admits that his allowance for the army and ordnance extras is too great, and expreſsly refers you to the Conſiderations;m where, far from giving £. 75.000 a year to that ſervice, as the State of the Nation has done, the author apprehends his own ſcanty proviſion of £. 35.000 to be by far too conſiderable, and thinks it may well admit of further reductions.n Thus, according to his own principles, [70] this great oeconomiſt falls into a vicious prodigality; and is as far in his eſtimate from a conſiſtency with his own principles as with the real nature of the ſervices.

STILL, however, his preſent eſtabliſhment differs from its archetype of 1764, by being, though raiſed in particular parts, upon the whole about £. 141.000 ſmaller. It is improved, he tells us, by the experience of the two laſt years. One would have concluded that the peace eſtabliſhment of theſe two years had been leſs than that of 1764, in order to ſuggeſt to the author his improvements, which enabled him to reduce it. But how does that turn out?

  £.
Peace eſtabliſhment 1767 and o 1768, medium, 3.919.375
Ditto, eſtimate in the Conſiderations, for 1764, 3.609.700
Difference,£.309.675

A vaſt encreaſe inſtead of diminution. The experience then of the two laſt years ought naturally to have given the idea of an heavier eſtabliſhment; but this writer is able to diminiſh by encreaſing, and to draw the effects of ſubtraction from the operations of addition. By means of [71] theſe new powers, he may certainly do whatever he pleaſes. He is indeed moderate enough in the uſe of them, and condeſcends to ſettle his eſtabliſhments at £. 3.468.161 a year.

HOWEVER, he has not yet done with it; he has further ideas of ſaving, and new reſources of revenue. Theſe additional ſavings are principally two: 1ſt, It is to be hoped, ſays he,p that the ſum of £. 250.000 (which in the eſtimate he allows for the deficiency of land and malt) will be leſs by £. 37.924.q

2d, THAT the ſum of £. 20.000 allowed for the Foundling Hoſpital, and £. 1.800 for American Surveys, will ſoon ceaſe to be neceſſary, as the ſervices will be compleated.

WHAT follows with regard to the reſources, is very well worthy of the reader's attention. ‘"Of this eſtimate, ſays he,r upwards of £. 300.000 will be for the plantation ſervice; and that ſum, I hope, the people of Ireland and the colonies might be induced to take off Great Britain, and [72] defray between them, in the proportion of £. 200.000 by the colonies, and £. 100.000 by Ireland."’

SUCH is the whole of this mighty ſcheme. Take his reduced eſtimate, and his further reductions, and his reſources all together, and the reſult will be: He will certainly lower the proviſion made for the navy. He will cut off largely (God knows what or how) from the army and ordnance extraordinaries. He may be expected to cut off more. He hopes that the deficiencies on land and malt will be leſs than uſual; and he hopes that America and Ireland might be induced to take off £. 300.000 of our annual charges.

IF any one of theſe Hopes, Mights, Inſinuations, Expectations, and Inducements, ſhould fail him, there will be a formidable gaping breach in his whole project. If all of them ſhould fail, he has left the nation without a glimmering of hope in this thick night of terrors which he has thought fit to ſpread about us. If every one of them, which, attended with ſucceſs, would ſignify any thing to our revenue, can have no effect but to add to our diſtractions and dangers, we ſhall be if poſſible in a ſtill worſe condition from his projects of cure than he repreſents us from our original diſorders.

BEFORE we examine into the conſequence of theſe ſchemes, and the probability of theſe ſavings, let us ſuppoſe them all real and all ſafe, and then ſee what it is they amount to, and how he reaſons on them:

  £.
Deficiency on land and malt, leſs by 37.000
Foundling Hoſpital, 20.000
American Surveys, 1.800
 £.58.800

This is the amount of the only articles of ſaving he ſpecifies; and yet he chooſes to aſſerts ‘"that we may venture on the credit of them to reduce the ſtanding expences of the eſtimate (from £. 3.468.161) to £. 3.300.000;"’ that is, for a ſaving of £. 58.000, he is not aſhamed to take credit for a defalcation from his own ideal eſtabliſhment in a ſum of no leſs than £. 168.161! Suppoſe even that we were to take up the eſtimate of the Conſiderations (which is however abandoned in the State of the Nation), and reduce his £. 75.000 extraordinaries to the original £. 35.000. ſtill all theſe ſavings joined together give us but £. 98.000; that is, near £. 70.000 ſhort of the credit he calls for, and for which he has neither given any reaſon, nor furniſhed any data whatſoever for others to reaſon upon.

SUCH are his ſavings, as operating on his own project of a peace eſtabliſhment. Let us now conſider them as they affect the exiſting eſtabliſhment and our actual ſervices. He tells us, the ſum allowed in his eſtimate for the navy is ‘"£. 69.321 leſs than the grant for that ſervice in 1767; but in that grant £. 30.000 was included for the purchaſe of hemp, and a ſaving of about £. 25.000 was made in that year."’ The author has got ſome ſecret in arithmetic. Theſe two ſums put together amount, in the ordinary way of computing, to £. 55.000, and not to £. 69.321. On [74] what principle has he choſen to take credit for £. 14.321 more? To what this ſtrange inaccuracy is owing, I cannot poſſibly comprehend; nor is it very material, where the logic is ſo bad, and the policy ſo erroneous, whether the arithmetic be juſt or otherwiſe. But in a ſcheme for making this nation ‘"happy at home and reſpected abroad, formidable in war and flouriſhing in peace,"’ it is ſurely a little unfortunate for us, that he has picked out the Navy, as the very firſt object of his oeconomical experiments. Of all the public ſervices, that of the navy is the one in which tampering may be of the greateſt danger, which can worſt be ſupplied upon an emergency, and of which any failure draws after it the longeſt and heavieſt train of conſequences. I am far from ſaying, that this or any ſervice ought not to be conducted with oeconomy. But I will never ſuffer the ſacred name of oeconomy to be beſtowed upon arbitrary defalcation of charge. The author tells us himſelf, ‘"that to ſuffer the navy to rot in harbour for want of repairs and marines, would be to invite deſtruction."’ It would be ſo. When the author talks therefore of ſavings on the navy eſtimate, it is incumbent on him to let us know, not what ſums he will cut off, but what branch of that ſervice he deems ſuperfluous. Inſtead of putting us off with unmeaning generalities, he ought to have ſtated what naval force, what naval works, and what naval ſtores, with the loweſt eſtimated expence, are neceſſary to keep our marine in a condition commenſurate to its great ends. And this too not for the contracted and deceitful ſpace of a ſingle year, but for ſome reaſonable term. Every body knows that many charges cannot be in their nature regular or annual. In the year 1767 a ſtock of hemp, &c. was to be laid in; that charge intermits, but it does not end. Other charges of [75] other kinds take their place. Great works are now carrying on at Portſmouth, but not of greater magnitude than utility; and they muſt be provided for. A year's eſtimate is therefore no juſt idea at all of a permanent peace eſtabliſhment. Had the author opened this matter upon theſe plain principles, a judgment might have been formed, how far he had contrived to reconcile national defence with public oeconomy. Till he has done it, thoſe who had rather depend on any man's reaſon than the greateſt man's authority will not give him credit on this head, for the ſaving of a ſingle ſhilling. As to thoſe ſavings which are already made, or in courſe of being made, whether right or wrong, he has nothing at all to do with them; they can be no part of his project, conſidered as a plan of reformation. I greatly fear that the error has not lately been on the ſide of profuſion.

ANOTHER head is the ſaving on the Army and Ordnance extraordinaries, particularly in the American branch. What or how much reduction may be made, none of us, I believe, can with any fairneſs pretend to ſay; very little, I am convinced. The ſtate of America is extremely unſettled; more troops have been ſent thither; new diſpoſitions have been made; and this augmentation of number, and change of diſpoſition, has rarely, I believe, the effect of leſſening the bill for extraordinaries, which, if not this year, yet in the next we muſt certainly feel. Care has not been wanting to introduce oeconomy into that part of the ſervice. The author's great friend has made, I admit, ſome regulations; his immediate ſucceſſors have made more and better. This part will be handled more ably and more minutely at another time: but no one can cut down this bill of extraordinaries at his pleaſure. The author has given [76] us nothing, but his word, for any certain or conſiderable reduction; and this we ought to be the more cautious in taking, as he has promiſed great ſavings in his Conſiderations, which he has not choſen to abide by in his State of the Nation.

ON this head alſo of the American extraordinaries, he can take credit for nothing. As to his next, the leſſening of the deficiency of the land and malt tax, particularly of the malt tax; any perſon the leaſt converſant in that ſubject cannot avoid a ſmile. This deficiency ariſes from charge of collection, from anticipation, and from defective produce. What has the author ſaid on the reduction of any head of this deficiency upon the land tax? On theſe points he is abſolutely ſilent. As to the deficiency on the malt tax, which is chiefly owing to a defective produce, he has, and can have, nothing to propoſe. If this deficiency ſhould be leſſened by the encreaſe of malting in any years more than others (as it is a greatly fluctuating object), how much of this obligation ſhall we owe to this author's miniſtry? will it not be the caſe under any adminiſtration? muſt it not go to the general ſervice of the year, in ſome way or other, let the finances be in whoſe hands they will? But why take credit for ſo extremely reduced a deficiency at all? I can tell him, he has no rational ground for it in the produce of the year 1767; and I ſuſpect will have full as little reaſon from the produce of the year 1768. That produce may indeed become greater, and the deficiency of courſe will be leſs. It may too be far otherwiſe. A fair and judicious financier will not, as this writer has done, for the ſake of making out a ſpecious account, ſelect a favourable year or two, at remote periods, and ground his calculations on thoſe. In 1768 he will not take the deficiencies of 1753 [77] and 1754 for his ſtandard. Sober men have hitherto (and muſt continue this courſe to preſerve this character) taken indifferently the mediums of the years immediately preceding. But a perſon who has a ſcheme from which he promiſes much to the public ought to be ſtill more cautious; he ſhould ground his ſpeculation rather on the loweſt mediums; becauſe all new ſchemes are known to be ſubject to ſome defect or failure not foreſeen; and which therefore every prudent propoſer will be ready to allow for, in order to lay his foundation as low and as ſolid as poſſible. Quite contrary is the practice of ſome politicians. They firſt propoſe ſavings, which they well know cannot be made, in order to get a reputation for oeconomy. In due time they aſſume another, but a different method, by providing for the ſervice they had before cut off or ſtraitened, and which they can then very eaſily prove to be neceſſary. In the ſame ſpirit they raiſe magnificent ideas of revenue on funds which they know to be inſufficient. Afterwards, who can blame them, if they do not ſatisfy the public deſires? They are great artificers; but they cannot work without materials.

THESE are ſome of the little arts of great ſtateſmen. To ſuch we leave them, and follow where the author leads us, to his next reſource, the Foundling-hoſpital. Whatever particular virtue there is in the mode of this ſaving, there ſeems to be nothing at all new, and indeed nothing wonderfully important in it. The ſum annually voted for the ſupport of the Foundling-hoſpital has been in a former parliament limited to the eſtabliſhment of the children then in the hoſpital. When they are apprenticed, this proviſion will ceaſe. It will therefore fall in more or leſs at different times; and will at length ceaſe entirely. But, until it [78] does, we cannot reckon upon it as the ſaving on the eſtabliſhment of any given year: nor can any one conceive how the author comes to mention this, any more than ſome other articles, as a part of a new plan of oeconomy which is to retrieve our affairs. This charge will indeed ceaſe in its own time. But will no other ſucceed to it? Has he ever known the public free from ſome contingent charge, either for the juſt ſupport of royal dignity, or for national magnificence, or for public charity, or for public ſervice? does he chooſe to flatter his readers that no ſuch will ever return? or does he in good earneſt declare, that let the reaſon, or neceſſity, be what they will, he is reſolved not to provide for ſuch ſervices?

ANOTHER reſource of oeconomy yet remains, for he gleans the field very cloſely, £. 1.800 for the American ſurveys. Why what ſignifies a diſpute about trifles? he ſhall have it. But while he is carrying it off, I ſhall juſt whiſper in his ear, that neither the ſaving that is allowed, nor that which is doubted of, can at all belong to that future propoſed adminiſtration, whoſe touch is to cure all our evils. Both the one and the other belong equally (as indeed all the reſt do) to the preſent adminiſtration, to any adminiſtration; becauſe they are the gift of time, and not the bounty of the exchequer.

I HAVE now done with all the minor preparatory parts of the author's ſcheme, the ſeveral articles of ſaving which he propoſes. At length comes the capital operation, his new reſources. Three hundred thouſand pounds a year from America and Ireland.—Alas! alas! if that too ſhould fail us, what will become of this poor undone nation? The author, in a tone of great humility, hopes they may be induced to pay it. Well, if that be [79] all, we may hope ſo too: and for any light he is pleaſed to give us into the ground of this hope, and the ways and means of this inducement, here is a ſpeedy end both of the queſtion and the revenue.

IT is the conſtant cuſtom of this author, in all his writings, to take it for granted, that he has given you a revenue, whenever he can point out to you where you may have money, if you can contrive how to get at it; and this ſeems to be the maſter-piece of his financial ability. I think however, in his way of proceeding, he has behaved rather like an harſh ſtep-dame, than a kind nurſing mother to his country. Why ſtop at £. 300.000? If his ſtate of things be at all founded, America and Ireland are much better able to pay £. 600.000, than we are to ſatisfy ourſelves with half that ſum. However, let us forgive him this one inſtance of tenderneſs towards Ireland and the colonies.

HE ſpends a vaſt deal of time,t in an endeavour to prove, that Ireland is able to bear greater impoſitions. He is of opinion, that the poverty of the lower claſs of people there is, in a great meaſure, owing to a want of judicious taxes; that a land tax will enrich her tenants; that taxes are paid in England which are not paid there; that the colony trade is encreaſed above £. 100.000 ſince the peace; that ſhe ought to have further indulgences in that trade; and ought to have further privileges in the woollen manufacture. From theſe premiſes, of what ſhe has, what ſhe has not, and what ſhe ought to have, he infers that Ireland will contribute £. 100.000 towards the extraordinaries of the American eſtabliſhment.

I SHALL make no objections whatſoever, logical or financial, to this reaſoning: many occur; but [80] they would lead me from my purpoſe, from which I do not intend to be diverted, becauſe it ſeems to me of no ſmall importance. It will be juſt enough to hint, what I dare ſay many readers have before obſerved, that when any man propoſes new taxes in a country with which he is not perſonally converſant by reſidence or office, he ought to lay open its ſituation much more minutely and critically than this author has done, or than perhaps he is able to do. He ought not to content himſelf with ſaying that a ſingle article of her trade is encreaſed £. 100.000 a year; he ought, if he argues from the encreaſe of trade to the encreaſe of taxes, to ſtate the whole trade, and not one branch of trade only; he ought to enter fully into the ſtate of its remittances, and the courſe of its exchange; he ought likewiſe to examine whether all its eſtabliſhments are encreaſed or diminiſhed; and whether it incurs or diſcharges debt annually. But I paſs over all this; and am content to aſk a few plain queſtions.

DOES the author then ſeriouſly mean to propoſe in parliament a land tax, or any tax for £. 100.000 a year upon Ireland? if he does, and if fatally, by his temerity and our weakneſs, he ſhould ſucceed; then I ſay he will throw the whole empire from one end of it to the other into mortal convulſions. What is it that can ſatisfy the furious and perturbed mind of this man; is it not enough for him that ſuch projects have alienated our colonies from the mother country, and not to propoſe violently to tear our ſiſter kingdom alſo from our ſide, and to convince every dependent part of the empire, that, when a little money is to be raiſed, we have no ſort of regard to their ancient cuſtoms, their opinions, their circumſtances, or their affections? He has however a douceur for Ireland in his pocket; benefits [81] in trade, by opening the woollen manufacture to that nation. A very right idea in my opinion; but not more ſtrong in reaſon, than likely to be oppoſed by the moſt powerful and moſt violent of all local prejudices and popular paſſions. Firſt, a fire is already kindled by his ſchemes of taxation in America; he then propoſes one which will ſet all Ireland in a blaze; and his way of quenching both is by a plan which may kindle perhaps ten times a greater flame in Britain.

WILL the author pledge himſelf, previouſly to his propoſal of ſuch a tax, to carry this enlargement of the Iriſh trade; if he does not, then the tax will be certain; the benefit will be leſs than problematical. In this view, his compenſation to Ireland vaniſhes into ſmoke; the tax, to their prejudices, will appear ſtark naked in the light of an act of arbitrary power and oppreſſion. But, if he ſhould propoſe the benefit and tax together, then the people of Ireland, a very high and ſpirited people, would think it the worſt bargain in the world. They would look upon the one as wholly vitiated and poiſoned by the other; and, if they could not be ſeparated, would infallibly reſiſt them both together. Here would be taxes indeed, amounting to an handſome ſum; £. 100.000 very effectually voted, and paſſed through the beſt and moſt authentic forms; but how to be collected?—This is his perpetual manner. One of his projects depends for ſucceſs upon another project, and this upon a third, all of them equally viſionary. His finance is like the Indian philoſophy; his Earth is poiſed on the horns of a Bull, his Bull ſtands on an Elephant, his Elephant is ſupported by a Tortoiſe; and ſo on for ever.

As to his American £. 200.000 a year, he is ſatisfied to repeat gravely, as he has done an hundred [82] times before, that the Americans are able to pay it. Well, and what then? does he lay open any part of his plan how they may be compelled to pay it, without plunging ourſelves into calamities that outweigh ten-fold the propoſed benefit? or does he ſhew how they may be induced to ſubmit to it quietly; or does he give any ſatisfaction concerning the mode of levying it, in commercial colonies one of the moſt important and difficult of all conſiderations? Nothing like it. To the ſtamp act, whatever its excellencies may be, I think he will not in reality recur, or even chooſe to aſſert that he means to do ſo, in caſe his miniſter ſhould come again into power. If he does, I will predict that ſome of the faſteſt friends of that miniſter will deſert him upon this point. As to port duties, he has damned them all in the lump, by declaring themu ‘"contrary to the firſt principles of colonization, and not leſs prejudicial to the intereſts of Great Britain than to thoſe of the colonies."’ Surely this ſingle obſervation of his ought to have taught him a little caution; he ought to have begun to doubt, whether there is not ſomething in the nature of commercial colonies, which renders them an unfit object of taxation; when port duties, ſo large a fund of revenue in almoſt all countries, are by himſelf found, in this caſe, not only improper, but deſtructive. However, he has here pretty well narrowed the field of taxation. Stamp act, hardly to be reſumed. Port duties, miſchievous. Exciſes, I believe, he will ſcarcely think worth the collection (if any revenue ſhould be ſo) in America. Land tax (notwithſtanding his opinion of its immenſe uſe to agriculture), he will not directly propoſe, before he has thought again and again on the ſubject. Indeed he very readily recommends it for Ireland, and ſeems to think it [83] not improper for America; becauſe, he obſerves, they already raiſe moſt of their taxes internally, including this tax. A moſt curious reaſon truly! becauſe their lands are already heavily burthened, he thinks it right to burthen them ſtill further. But he will recollect, for ſurely he cannot be ignorant of it, that the lands of America are not, as in England, let at a rent certain in money, and therefore cannot, as here, be taxed at a certain pound rate. They value them in groſs among themſelves; and none but themſelves in their ſeveral diſtricts can value them. Without their hearty concurrence and co-operation, it is evident, we cannot advance a ſtep in the aſſeſſing or collecting any land tax. As to the taxes which in ſome places the Americans pay by the acre, they are merely duties of regulation: they are ſmall; and to encreaſe them, notwithſtanding the ſecret virtues of a land tax, would be the moſt effectual means of preventing that cultivation they are intended to promote. Beſides, the whole country is heavily in arrear already for land taxes and quit rents. They have different methods of taxation in the different provinces, agreeable to their ſeveral local circumſtances. In New England by far the greateſt part of their revenue is raiſed by faculty taxes and capitations. Such is the method in many others. It is obvious that parliament, unaſſiſted by the colonies themſelves, cannot take ſo much as a ſingle ſtep in this mode of taxation. Then what tax is it he will impoſe? Why, after all the boaſting ſpeeches and writings of his faction for theſe four years, after all the vain expectations which they have held out to a deluded public, this their great advocate, after twiſting the ſubject every way, after writhing himſelf in every poſture, after knocking at every door, is obliged fairly to abandon every mode of taxation whatſoever in America. [84] He thinksw it the beſt method for parliament to impoſe the ſum, and reſerve the account to itſelf, leaving the mode of taxation to the colonies. But how and in what proportion? what does the author ſay? O, not a ſingle ſyllable on this the moſt material part of the whole queſtion. Will he, in parliament, undertake to ſettle the proportions of ſuch payments from Nova Scotia to Nevis, in no fewer than ſix and twenty different countries, varying in almoſt every poſſible circumſtance one from another? if he does, I tell him, he adjourns his revenue to a very long day. If he leaves it to themſelves to ſettle theſe proportions, he adjourns it to dooms-day.

THEN what does he get by this method on the ſide of acquieſcence? will the people of America reliſh this courſe, of giving and granting and applying their money, the better becauſe their aſſemblies are made commiſſioners of the taxes? This is far worſe than all his former projects; for here, if the aſſemblies ſhall refuſe, or delay, or be negligent, or fraudulent, in this new-impoſed duty, we are wholly without remedy; and neither our cuſtom-houſe officers, nor our troops, nor our armed ſhips, can be of the leaſt uſe in the collection. No idea can be more contemptible (I will not call it an oppreſſive one, the harſhneſs is loſt in the folly) than that of propoſing to get any revenue from the Americans but by their freeſt and moſt chearful conſent. Moſt monied men know their own intereſt right well; and are as able as any financier, in the valuation of riſks. Yet I think this financier will ſcarcely find that adventurer hardy enough, at any premium, to advance a ſhilling upon a vote of ſuch taxes. Let him name the man, or ſet of men, that would do it. This [85] is the only proof of the value of revenues; what would an intereſted man rate them at? His ſubſcription would be at ninety-nine per cent. diſcount the very firſt day of its opening. Here is our only national ſecurity from ruin; a ſecurity upon which no man in his ſenſes would venture a ſhilling of his fortune. Yet he puts down thoſe articles as gravely in his ſupply for his peace eſtabliſhment, as if the money had been all fairly lodged in the exchequer:

 £.
American revenue,200.000
Ireland,100.000

Very handſome indeed! but if ſupply is to be got in ſuch a manner, farewell the lucrative myſtery of finance! If you are to be credited for ſavings, without ſhewing how, why, or with what ſafety, they are to be made; and for revenues, without ſpecifying on what articles, or by what means, or at what expence, they are to be collected; there is not a clerk in a public office who may not outbid this author, or his friend, for the department of chancellor of the exchequer; not an apprentice in the city, that will not ſtrike out, with the ſame advantages, the ſame, or a much larger, plan of ſupply.

HERE is the whole of what belongs to the author's ſcheme for ſaving us from impending deſtruction. Take it even in its moſt favourable point of view, as a thing within poſſibility; and imagine what muſt be the wiſdom of this gentleman, or his opinion of ours, who could firſt think of repreſenting this nation in ſuch a ſtate, as no friend can look upon but with horror, and ſcarce an enemy without compaſſion, and afterwards of diverting himſelf with ſuch inadequate, impracticable, [86] puerile methods for our relief? If theſe had been the dreams of ſome unknown, unnamed, and nameleſs writer, they would excite no alarm; their weakneſs had been an antidote to their malignity. But as they are univerſally believed to be written by the hand, or, what amounts to the ſame thing, under the immediate direction, of a perſon who has been in the management of the higheſt affairs, and may ſoon be in the ſame ſituation, I think it is not to be reckoned amongſt our greateſt conſolations, that the yet remaining power of this kingdom is to be employed in an attempt to realize notions that are at once ſo frivolous, and ſo full of danger. That conſideration will juſtify me in dwelling a little longer on the difficulties of the nation, and the ſolutions of our author.

I AM then perſuaded that he cannot be in the leaſt alarmed about our ſituation, let his outcry be what he pleaſes. I will give him a reaſon for my opinion, which, I think, he cannot diſpute. All that he beſtows upon the nation, which it does not poſſeſs without him, and ſuppoſing it all ſure money, amounts to no more than a ſum of £. 300.000 a year. This, he thinks, will do the buſineſs compleatly, and render us flouriſhing at home, and reſpectable abroad. If the option between glory and ſhame, if our ſalvation or deſtruction, depended on this ſum, it is impoſſible that he ſhould have been active, and made a merit of that activity, in taking off a ſhilling in the pound of the land tax, which came up to his grand deſideratum, and upwards of £. 100.000 more. By this manoeuvre, he left our trade, navigation, and manufactures, on the verge of deſtruction, our finances in ruin, our credit expiring, Ireland on the point of being ceded to France, the colonies of being torn to pieces, the ſucceſſion of the crown at the mercy of [87] our great rival, and the kingdom itſelf on the very point of becoming tributary to that haughty power. All this for want of £. 300.000; for I defy the reader to point out any other revenue, or any other preciſe and defined ſcheme of politics, which he aſſigns for our redemption.

I KNOW that two things may be ſaid in his defence, as bad reaſons are always at hand in an indifferent cauſe; that he was not ſure the money would be applied as he thinks it ought to be, by the preſent miniſters. I think as ill of them as he does to the full. They have done very near as much miſchief as they can do, to a conſtitution ſo robuſt as this is. Nothing can make them more dangerous, but that, as they are already in general compoſed of his diſciples and inſtruments, they may add to the public calamity of their own meaſures, the adoption of his projects. But be the miniſters what they may, the author knows that they could not avoid applying this £. 450.000 to the ſervice of the eſtabliſhment, as faithfully as he, or any other miniſter, could do. I ſay they could not avoid it, and have no merit at all for the application. But ſuppoſing that they ſhould greatly miſmanage this revenue. Here is a good deal of room for miſtake and prodigality before you come to the edge of ruin. The difference between the amount of that real and his imaginary revenue is, £. 150.000 a year, at leaſt; a tolerable ſum for them to play with: this might compenſate the difference between the author's oeconomy and their profuſion; and ſtill, notwithſtanding their vices and ignorance, the nation might be ſaved. The author ought alſo to recollect, that a good man would hardly deny, even to the worſt of miniſters, the means of doing their duty; eſpecially in a criſis when our being depended on ſupplying them with [88] ſome means or other. In ſuch a caſe, their penury of mind, in diſcovering reſources, would make it rather the more neceſſary, not to ſtrip ſuch poor providers of the little ſtock they had in hand.

BESIDES, here is another ſubject of diſtreſs, and a very ſerious one, which puts us again to a ſtand. The author may poſſibly not come into power (I only ſtate the poſſibility): he may not always continue in it; and if the contrary to all this ſhould fortunately for us happen, what inſurance on his life can be made for a ſum adequate to his loſs? Then we are thus unluckily ſituated, that the chance of an American and Iriſh revenue of £. 300.000, to be managed by him, is to ſave us from ruin two or three years hence at beſt, to make us happy at home and glorious abroad; and the actual poſſeſſion of £. 450.000 Engliſh taxes cannot ſo much as protract our ruin without him. So we are ſtaked on four chances; his power, its permanence, the ſucceſs of his projects, and the duration of his life. Any one of theſe failing, we are gone. Propria haec ſi dona fuiſſent! This is no unfair repreſentation; ultimately all hangs on his life, becauſe, in his account of every ſet of men that have held or ſupported adminiſtration, he finds neither virtue nor ability in any but himſelf. Indeed he pays (through their meaſures) ſome compliments to Lord Bute and Lord Deſpenſer. But to the latter, this is, I ſuppoſe, but a civility to old acquaintance: to the former, a little ſtroke of politics. We may therefore fairly ſay, that our only hope is his life; and he has, to make it the more ſo, taken care to cut off any reſource which we poſſeſſed independent of him.

IN the next place it may be ſaid, to excuſe any appearance of inconſiſtency between the author's actions and his declarations, that he thought it [89] right to relieve the landed intereſt, and lay the burthen, where it ought to lie, on the colonies. What! to take off a revenue ſo neceſſary to our being, before any thing whatſoever was acquired in the place of it? In prudence, he ought to have waited at leaſt for the firſt quarter's receipt of the new anonymous American revenue, and Iriſh land tax. Is there ſomething ſo ſpecific for our diſorders in American, and ſomething ſo poiſonous in Engliſh money, that one is to heal, the other to deſtroy us? To ſay that the landed intereſt could not continue to pay it for a year or two longer, is more than the author will attempt to prove. To ſay that they would pay it no longer, is to treat the landed intereſt, in my opinion, very ſcurvily. To ſuppoſe that the gentry, clergy, and freeholders of England do not rate the commerce, the credit, the religion, the liberty, the independency of their country, and the ſucceſſion of their crown, at a ſhilling in the pound land tax! They never gave him reaſon to think ſo meanly of them. And, if I am rightly informed, when that meaſure was debated in parliament, a very different reaſon was aſſigned by the author's great friend, as well as by others, for that reduction: one very different from the critical and almoſt deſperate ſtate of our finances. Some people then endeavoured to prove, that the reduction might be made without detriment to the national credit, or the due ſupport of a proper peace eſtabliſhment; otherwiſe it is obvious that the reduction could not be defended in argument. So that this author cannot deſpair ſo much of the commonwealth, without this American and Iriſh revenue, as he pretends to do. If he does, the reader ſees how handſomely he has provided for us, by voting away one revenue, and by giving us a pamphlet on the other.

[90]I DO not mean to blame the relief which was then given by parliament to the land. It was grounded on very weighty reaſons. The adminiſtration contended only for its continuance for a year, in order to have the merit of taking off the ſhilling in the pound immediately before the elections; and thus to bribe the freeholders of England with their own money.

IT is true, the author, in his eſtimate of ways and means, takes credit for £. 400.000 a year, Indian revenue. But he will not very poſitively inſiſt, that we ſhould put this revenue to the account of his plans or his power; and for a very plain reaſon: we are already near two years in poſſeſſion of it. By what means we came to that poſſeſſion, is a pretty long ſtory; however, I ſhall give nothing more than a ſhort abſtract of the proceeding, in order to ſee whether the author will take to himſelf any part in that meaſure.

THE fact is this; the Eaſt India company had for a good while ſolicited the miniſtry for a negotiation, by which they propoſed to pay largely for ſome advantages in their trade, and for the renewal of their charter. This had been the former method of tranſacting with that body. Government having only leaſed the monopoly for ſhort terms, the company has been obliged to reſort to it frequently for renewals. Theſe two parties had always negotiated (on the true principle of credit) not as government and ſubject, but as equal dealers, on the footing of mutual advantage. The public had derived great benefit from ſuch dealing. But at that time new ideas prevailed. The miniſtry, inſtead of liſtening to the propoſals of that company, choſe to ſet up a claim of the crown to their poſſeſſions. The original plan ſeems to have been, to get the houſe of commons to compliment the [91] crown with a ſort of juridical declaration of a title to the company's acquiſitions in India; which the crown, on its part, with the beſt air in the world, was to beſtow upon the public. Then it would come to the turn of the houſe of commons again to be liberal and grateful to the crown. The civil liſt debts were to be paid off; with perhaps a pretty augmentation of income. All this was to be done on the moſt public-ſpirited principles, and with a politeneſs and mutual interchange of good offices, that could not but have charmed. But, what was beſt of all, theſe civilities were to be without a farthing of charge to either of the kind and obliging parties.—The Eaſt India company was to be covered with infamy and diſgrace, and at the ſame time was to pay the whole bill.

IN conſequence of this ſcheme, the terrors of a parliamentary inquiry were hung over them. A judicature was aſſerted in parliament to try this queſtion. But, leſt this judicial character ſhould chance to inſpire certain ſtubborn ideas of law and right, it was argued, that the judicature was arbitrary, and ought not to determine by the rules of law, but by their opinion of policy and expediency. Nothing exceeded the violence of ſome of the managers, except their impotence. They were bewildered by their paſſions, and by their want of knowledge or want of conſideration of the ſubject. The more they advanced, the further they found themſelves from their object.—All things ran into confuſion. The miniſters quarrelled among themſelves. They diſclaimed one another. They ſuſpended violence, and ſhrunk from treaty. The inquiry was almoſt at its laſt gaſp; when ſome active perſons of the company were given to underſtand, that this hoſtile proceeding was only ſet up in terrorem; that government was far from an intention of ſeizing upon the poſſeſſions of the company. [92] Adminiſtration, they ſaid, was ſenſible, that the idea was in every light full of abſurdity; and that ſuch a ſeizure was not more out of their power, than remote from their wiſhes; and therefore, if the company would come in a liberal manner to the houſe, they certainly could not fail of putting a ſpeedy end to this diſagreeable buſineſs, and of opening the way to an advantageous treaty.

ON this hint the company acted: they came at once to a reſolution of getting rid of the difficulties which aroſe from the complication of their trade with their revenue; a ſtep which deſpoiled them of their beſt defenſive armour, and put them at once into the power of adminiſtration. They threw their whole ſtock of every kind, the revenue, the trade, and even their debt from government, into one fund, which they computed on the ſureſt grounds would amount to £. 800.000, with a large probable ſurplus for the payment of debt. Then they agreed to divide this ſum in equal portions between themſelves and the public, £. 400.000 to each. This gave to the proprietors of that fund an annual augmentation of no more than £. 80.000 dividend. They ought to receive from government £. 120.000 for the loan of their capital. So that, in fact, the whole, which on this plan they reſerved to themſelves, from their vaſt revenues, from their extenſive trade, and in conſideration of the great riſks and mighty expences which purchaſed theſe advantages, amounted to no more than £. 280.000, whilſt government was to receive, as I ſaid, £. 400.000.

THIS propoſal was thought by themſelves liberal indeed; and they expected the higheſt applauſes for it. However, their reception was very different from their expectations. When they brought up their plan to the houſe of commons, the offer, as it [93] was natural, of £. 400.000, was very well reliſhed. But nothing could be more diſguſtful than the £. 80.000 which the company had divided amongſt themſelves. A violent tempeſt of public indignation and fury roſe againſt them. The heads of people turned. The company was held well able to pay £. 400.000 a year to government; but bankrupts, if they attempted to divide the fifth part of it among themſelves. An ex poſt facto law was brought in with great precipitation, for annulling this dividend. In the bill was inſerted a clauſe, which ſuſpended for about a year the right, which, under the public faith, the company enjoyed, of making their own dividends. Such was the diſpoſition and temper of the houſe, that, although the plain face of facts, reaſon, arithmetic, all the authority, parts, and eloquence in the kingdom, were againſt this bill; though all the chancellors of the exchequer, who had held that office from the beginning of this reign, oppoſed it; yet a few placemen of the ſubordinate departments ſprung out of their ranks, took the lead, and, by an opinion of ſome ſort of ſecret ſupport, carried the bill with an high hand, leaving the then ſecretary of ſtate and the chancellor of the exchequer in a very moderate minority. In this diſtracted ſituation, the managers of the bill, notwithſtanding their triumph, did not venture to propoſe the payment of the civil liſt debt. The chancellor of the exchequer was not in good humour enough, after his late defeat by his own troops, to co-operate in ſuch a deſign; ſo they made an act, to lock up the money in the exchequer until they ſhould have time to look about them, and ſettle among themſelves what they were to do with it.

THUS ended this unparalleled tranſaction. The author, I believe, will not claim any part of the glory of it: he will leave it whole and entire to the [94] authors of the meaſure. The money was the voluntary free gift of the company; the reſcinding bill was the act of legiſlature, to which they and we owe ſubmiſſion: the author has nothing to do with the one or with the other. However, he cannot avoid rubbing himſelf againſt this ſubject, merely for the pleaſure of ſtirring controverſies, and gratifying a certain pruriency of taxation that ſeems to infect his blood. It is merely to indulge himſelf in ſpeculations of taxing, that he chooſes to harangue on this ſubject. For he takes credit for no greater ſum than the public is already in poſſeſſion of. He does not hint, that the company means, or has ever ſhewn any diſpoſition, if managed with common prudence, to pay leſs in future; and he cannot doubt that the preſent miniſtry are as well inclined to drive them, by their mock enquiries, and real reſcinding bills, as he can poſſibly be with his taxes. Beſides, it is obvious, that as great a ſum might have been drawn from that company, without affecting property, or ſhaking the conſtitution, or endangering the principle of public credit, or running into his golden dreams of cockets on the Ganges, or viſions of ſtamp duties on Pervanna's, Duſtics, Kiſtbundees, and Huſbulhookums. For once, I will diſappoint him in this part of the diſpute; and only in a few words recommend to his conſideration, how he is to get off the dangerous idea of taxing a public fund, if he levies thoſe duties in England; and if he is to levy them in India, what proviſion he has made for a revenue eſtabliſhment there; ſuppoſing that he undertakes this new ſcheme of finance independently of the company, and againſt its inclinations.

SO much for theſe revenues; which are nothing but his viſions, or already the national poſſeſſions without any act of his. It is eaſy to parade with an [95] high talk of parliamentary rights, of the univerſality of legiſlative powers, and of uniform taxation. Men of ſenſe, when new projects come before them, always think a diſcourſe proving the mere right or mere power of acting in the manner propoſed, to be no more than a very unpleaſant way of miſpending time. They muſt ſee the object to be of proper magnitude to engage them; they muſt ſee the means of compaſſing it to be next to certain; the miſchiefs not to counterbalance the profit; they will examine how a propoſed impoſition or regulation agrees with the opinion of thoſe who are likely to be affected by it; they will not deſpiſe the conſideration even of their habitudes and prejudices. They wiſh to know how it accords or diſagrees with the true ſpirit of prior eſtabliſhments, whether of government or of finance; becauſe they well know, that in the complicated oeconomy of great kingdoms, and immenſe revenues, which in a length of time, and by a variety of accidents, have coaleſced into a ſort of body, an attempt towards a compulſory equality in all circumſtances, and an exact practical definition of the ſupreme rights in every caſe, is the moſt dangerous and chimerical of all enterprizes. The old building ſtands well enough, though part Gothic, part Grecian, and part Chineſe, until an attempt is made to ſquare it into uniformity. Then it may come down upon our heads all together, in much uniformity of ruin; and great will be the fall thereof. Some people, inſtead of inclining to debate the matter, only feel a ſort of nauſea, when they are told, that ‘"protection calls for ſupply," and that, "all the parts ought to contribute to the ſupport of the whole."’ Strange argument for great and grave deliberation! As if the ſame end may not, and muſt not, be compaſſed, according to its circumſtances, by a great diverſity of ways. Thus in Great Britain ſome of our eſtabliſhments are apt [96] for the ſupport of credit. They ſtand therefore upon a principle of their own, diſtinct from, and in ſome reſpects contrary to, the relation between prince and ſubject. It is a new ſpecies of contract ſuperinduced upon the old contract of the ſtate. The idea of power muſt as much as poſſible be baniſhed from it; for power and credit are things adverſe, incompatible; Non bene conveniunt, nec in una ſede morantur. Such eſtabliſhments are our great monied companies. To tax them would be critical and dangerous, and contradictory to the very purpoſe of their inſtitution; which is credit, and cannot therefore be taxation. But the nation, when it gave up that power, did not give up the advantage; but ſuppoſed, and with reaſon, that government was overpaid in credit for what it ſeemed to loſe in authority. In ſuch a caſe, to talk of the rights of ſovereignty, is quite idle. Other eſtabliſhments ſupply other modes of public contribution. Our trading companies, as well as individual importers, are a fit ſubject of revenue by cuſtoms. Some eſtabliſhments pay us by a monopoly of their conſumption and their produce. This, nominally no tax, in reality comprehends all taxes. Such eſtabliſhments are our colonies. To tax them, would be as erroneous in policy, as rigorous in equity. Ireland ſupplies us by furniſhing troops in war; and by bearing part of our foreign eſtabliſhment in peace. She aids us at all times by the money that her abſentees ſpend amongſt us; which is no ſmall part of the rental of that kingdom. Thus Ireland contributes her part. Some objects bear port duties. Some are fitter for an inland exciſe. The mode varies, the object is the ſame. To ſtrain theſe from their old and inveterate leanings, might impair the old benefit, and not anſwer the end of the new project. Among all the great men of antiquity, Procruſtes ſhall never be my hero of legiſlation; [97] with his iron bed, the allegory of his government, and the type of ſome modern policy, by which the long limb was to be cut ſhort, and the ſhort tortured into length. Such was the ſtate-bed of uniformity! He would, I conceive, be a very indifferent farmer, who complained that his ſheep did not plough, or his horſes yield him wool; tho' it would be an idea full of equality. They may think this right in ruſtic oeconomy, who think it available in the politic;

Qui Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina, Maevi!
Atque idem jungat vulpes, et mulgeat hircos.

As the author has ſtated this Indian taxation for no viſible purpoſe relative to his plan of ſupply, ſo he has ſtated many other projects with as little, if any diſtinct end; unleſs perhaps to ſhew you how full he is of projects for the public good; and what vaſt expectations may be formed of him or his friends, if they ſhould be tranſlated into adminiſtration. It is always from ſome opinion that theſe ſpeculations may one day become our public meaſures, that I think it worth while to trouble the reader at all about them.

Two of them ſtand out in high relievo beyond the reſt. The firſt is a change in the internal repreſentation of this country, by enlarging our number of conſtituents. The ſecond is an addition to our repreſentatives, by new American members of parliament. I paſs over here all conſiderations how far ſuch a ſyſtem will be an improvement of our conſtitution according to any ſound theory. Not that I mean to condemn ſuch ſpeculative enquiries concerning this great object of the national attention. They may tend to clear doubtful points, and poſſibly may lead, as they have often done, to real improvements. What I object to, is their [98] introduction into a diſcourſe relating to the immediate ſtate of our affairs, and recommending plans of practical government. In this view, I ſee nothing in them but what is uſual with the author; an attempt to raiſe diſcontent in the people of England, to balance thoſe diſcontents the meaſures of his friends had already raiſed in America. What other reaſon can he have for ſuggeſting, that we are not happy enough to enjoy a ſufficient number of voters in England? I believe that moſt ſober thinkers on this ſubject are rather of opinion, that our fault is on the other ſide; and that it would be more in the ſpirit of our conſtitution, and more agreeable to the pattern of our beſt laws, by leſſening the number, to add to the weight and independency of our voters. And truly, conſidering the immenſe and dangerous charge of elections; the proſtitute and daring venality, the corruption of manners, the idleneſs and profligacy of the lower ſort of voters, no prudent man would propoſe to increaſe ſuch an evil, if it be, as I fear it is, out of our power to adminiſter to it any remedy. The author propoſes nothing further. If he has any improvements that may balance or may leſſen this inconvenience, he has thought proper to keep them as uſual in his own breaſt. Since he has been ſo reſerved, I ſhould have wiſhed he had been as cautious with regard to the project itſelf. Firſt, becauſe he obſerves juſtly, that his ſcheme, however it might improve the platform, can add nothing to the authority of the legiſlature; much I fear, it will have a contrary operation: for, authority depending on opinion at leaſt as much as on duty, an idea circulated among the people that our conſtitution is not ſo perfect as it ought to be, before you are ſure of mending it, is a certain method of leſſening it in the public opinion. Of this irreverent opinion of parliament, the author himſelf complains [99] in one part of his book; and he endeavours to increaſe it in the other.

HAS he well conſidered what an immenſe operation any change in our conſtitution is? how many diſcuſſions, parties, and paſſions, it will neceſſarily excite; and, when you open it to enquiry in one part, where the enquiry will ſtop? Experience ſhews us, that no time can be fit for ſuch changes but a time of general confuſion; when good men, finding every thing already broke up, think it right to take advantage of the opportunity of ſuch derangement in favour of an uſeful alteration. Perhaps a time of the greateſt ſecurity and tranquillity both at home and abroad may likewiſe be fit; but will the author affirm this to be juſt ſuch a time? Transferring an idea of military to civil prudence, he ought to know how dangerous it is to make an alteration of your diſpoſition in the face of an enemy.

NOW comes his American repreſentation. Here too, as uſual, he takes no notice of any difficulty, nor ſays any thing to obviate thoſe objections that muſt naturally ariſe in the minds of his readers. He throws you his politics as he does his revenue; do you make ſomething of them if you can. Is not the reader a little aſtoniſhed at the propoſal of an American repreſentation from that quarter? It is propoſedx merely as a project of ſpeculative improvement; not from the neceſſity in the caſe, not to add any thing to the authority of parliament: but that we may afford a greater attention to the concerns of the Americans, and give them a better opportunity of ſtating their grievances, and of obtaining redreſs. I am glad to find the author has at length diſcovered that we have not given a ſufficient attention to their concerns, or a proper redreſs to their grievances. His great friend would once [100] have been exceedingly diſpleaſed with any perſon, who ſhould tell him, that he did not attend ſufficiently to thoſe concerns. He thought he did ſo, when he regulated the colonies over and over again: he thought he did ſo, when he formed two general ſyſtems of revenue; one of port-duties, and the other of internal taxation. Theſe ſyſtems ſuppoſed, or ought to ſuppoſe, the greateſt attention to, and the moſt detailed information of, all their affairs. However, by contending for the American repreſentation, he ſeems at laſt driven virtually to admit, that great caution ought to be uſed in the exerciſe of all our legiſlative rights over an object ſo remote from our eye, and ſo little connected with our immediate feelings; that in prudence we ought not to be quite ſo ready with our taxes, until we can ſecure the deſired repreſentation in parliament. Perhaps it may be ſome time before this hopeful ſcheme can be brought to perfect maturity; although the author ſeems to be no wiſe aware of any obſtructions that lie in the way of it. He talks of his union, juſt as he does of his taxes and his ſavings, with as much ſang froid and eaſe, as if his wiſh and the enjoyment were exactly the ſame thing. He appears not to have troubled his head with the infinite difficulty of ſettling that repreſentation on a fair balance of wealth and numbers throughout the ſeveral provinces of America and the Weſt Indies, under ſuch an infinite variety of circumſtances. It coſts him nothing to fight with nature, and to conquer the order of Providence, which manifeſtly oppoſes itſelf to the poſſibility of ſuch a parliamentary union.

BUT let us, to indulge his paſſion for projects and power, ſuppoſe the happy time arrived, when the author comes into the miniſtry, and is to realiſe his ſpeculations. The writs are iſſued for electing [101] members for America and the Weſt-Indies. Some provinces receive them in ſix weeks, ſome in ten, ſome in twenty. A veſſel may be loſt, and then ſome provinces may not receive them at all. But let it be, that they all receive them at once, and in the ſhorteſt time. A proper ſpace muſt be given for proclamation and for the election; ſome weeks at leaſt. But the members are choſen; and, if ſhips are ready to ſail, in about ſix more they arrive in London. In the mean time the parliament has ſat and buſineſs far advanced without American repreſentatives. Nay by this time, it may happen, that the parliament is diſſolved; and then the members ſhip themſelves again, to be again elected. The writs may arrive in America, before the poor members of a parliament in which they never ſat, can arrive at their ſeveral provinces. A new intereſt is formed, and they find other members are choſen whilſt they are on the high ſeas. But, if the writs and members arrive together, here is at beſt a new trial of ſkill amongſt the candidates, after one ſet of them have well aired themſelves with their two voyages of 6000 miles.

HOWEVER, in order to facilitate every thing to the author, we will ſuppoſe them all once more elected, and ſteering again to Old England, with a good heart, and a fair weſterly wind in their ſtern. On their arrival, they find all in a hurry and buſtle; in and out; condolance and congratulation; the crown is demiſed. Another parliament is to be called. Away back to America again on a fourth voyage, and to a third election. Does the author mean to make our kings as immortal in their perſonal as in their politic character? or, whilſt he bountifully adds to their life, will he take from them their prerogative of diſſolving parliaments, in favour of the American union? or are the American [102] repreſentatives to be perpetual, and to feel neither demiſes of the crown, nor diſſolutions of parliament?

BUT theſe things may be granted to him, without bringing him much nearer to his point. What does he think of re-election? is the American member the only one who is not to take a place, or the only one to be exempted from the ceremony of re-election? How will this great politician preſerve the rights of electors, the fairneſs of returns, and the privilege of the houſe of commons, as the ſole judge of ſuch conteſts? It would undoubtedly be a glorious ſight to have eight or ten petitions, or double returns, from Boſton and Barbadoes, from Philadelphia and Jamaica, the members returned, and the petitioners, with all their train of attornies, ſolicitors, mayors, ſelect-men, provoſt-marſhals, and about five hundred or a thouſand witneſſes, come to the bar of the houſe of commons. Poſſibly we might be interrupted in the enjoyment of this pleaſing ſpectacle, if a war ſhould break out, and our conſtitutional fleet, loaded with members of parliament, returning officers, petitioners, and witneſſes, the electors and elected, ſhould become a prize to the French or Spaniards, and be conveyed to Carthagena or to La Vera Cruz, and from thence perhaps to Mexico or Lima, there to remain until a cartel for members of parliament can be ſettled, or until the war is ended.

IN truth, the author has little ſtudied this buſineſs; or he might have known, that ſome of the moſt conſiderable provinces of America, ſuch for inſtance as Connecticut and Maſſachuſſett's Bay, have not in each of them two men who can afford, at a diſtance from their eſtates, to ſpend a thouſand pounds a year. How can theſe provinces be repreſented at Weſtminſter? If their province pays [103] them, they are American agents, with ſalaries, and not independent members of parliament. It is true, that formerly in England members had ſalaries from their conſtituents; but they all had ſalaries, and were all, in this way, upon a par. If theſe American repreſentatives have no ſalaries, then they muſt add to the liſt of our penſioners and dependants at court, or they muſt ſtarve. There is no alternative.

ENOUGH of this viſionary union; in which much extravagance appears without any fancy, and the judgment is ſhocked without any thing to refreſh the imagination. It looks as if the author had dropped down from the moon, without any knowledge of the general nature of this globe, of the general nature of its inhabitants, without the leaſt acquaintance with the affairs of this country. Governal Pownal has handled the ſame ſubject. To do him juſtice, he treats it upon far more rational principles of ſpeculation; and much more like a man of buſineſs. He thinks (erroneouſly, I conceive; but he does think) that our legiſlative rights are incomplete without ſuch a repreſentation. It is no wonder, therefore, that he endeavours by every means to obtain it. Not like our author, who is always on velvet, he is aware of ſome difficulties; and he propoſes ſome ſolutions. But nature is too hard for both theſe authors; and America is, and ever will be, without actual repreſentation in the houſe of commons; nor will any miniſter be wild enough even to propoſe ſuch a repreſentation in parliament; however he may chooſe to throw out that project, together with others equally far from his real opinions and remote from his deſigns, merely to fall in with the different views, and captivate the affections, of different ſorts of men.

[104]WHETHER theſe projects ariſe from the author's real political principles, or are only brought out in ſubſervience to his political views, they compoſe the whole of any thing that is like preciſe and definite, which the author has given us to expect from that adminiſtration which is ſo much the ſubject of his praiſes and prayers. As to his general propoſitions, that ‘"there is a deal of difference between impoſſibilities and great difficulties;" that "a great ſcheme cannot be carried, unleſs made the buſineſs of ſucceſſive adminiſtrations;" that "virtuous and able men are the fitteſt to ſerve their country;"’ all this I look on as no more than ſo much rubble to fill up the ſpaces between the regular maſonry. Pretty much in the ſame light I cannot forbear conſidering his detached obſervations on commerce; ſuch as, thaty ‘"the ſyſtem for colony regulations would be very ſimple, and mutually beneficial to Great Britain and her colonies, if the old navigation laws were adhered to." That "the tranſportation ſhould be in all caſes in ſhips belonging to Britiſh ſubjects." That "even Britiſh ſhips ſhould not be generally received into the colonies from any part of Europe, except the dominions of Great Britain."—That "it is unreaſonable that corn and ſuch like products ſhould be reſtrained to come firſt to a Britiſh port."’ What do all theſe fine obſervations ſignify? ſome of them condemn as ill practices, things that were never practiſed at all. Some recommend to be done, things that always have been done. Others indeed convey, though obliquely and looſely, ſome inſinuations highly dangerous to our commerce. If I could prevail on myſelf to think the author meant to ground any practice upon theſe general propoſitions, I ſhould think it very neceſſary to aſk a few queſtions about [105] ſome of them. For inſtance, what does he mean by talking of an adherence to the old navigation laws? does he mean, that the particular law, 12 Car. II. c. 19, commonly called ‘"The act of navigation,"’ is to be adhered to, and that the ſeveral ſubſequent additions, amendments, and exceptions, ought to be all repealed? If ſo, he will make a ſtrange havock in the whole ſyſtem of our trade laws, which have been univerſally acknowledged to be full as well founded in the alterations and exceptions, as the act of Charles the ſecond in the original proviſions; and to purſue full as wiſely the great end of that very politic law, the encreaſe of the Britiſh navigation. I fancy the writer could hardly propoſe any thing more alarming to thoſe immediately intereſted in that navigation than ſuch a repeal. If he does not mean this, he has got no farther than a nugatory propoſition, which nobody can contradict, and for which no man is the wiſer.

THAT ‘"the regulations for the colony trade would be few and ſimple if the old navigation-laws were adhered to,"’ I utterly deny as a fact. That they ought to be ſo, ſounds well enough; but this propoſition is of the ſame nugatory nature with ſome of the former. The regulations for the colony trade ought not to be more nor fewer, nor more or leſs complex, than the occaſion requires. And, as that trade is in a great meaſure a ſyſtem of art and reſtriction, they can neither be few nor ſimple. It is true, that the very principle may be deſtroyed, by multiplying to exceſs the means of ſecuring it. Never did a miniſter depart more from the author's ideas of ſimplicity, or more embarraſs the trade of America with the multiplicity and intricacy of regulations and ordinances, than his boaſted miniſter of 1764. That miniſter ſeemed [106] to be poſſeſſed with ſomething, hardly ſhort of a rage, for regulation and reſtriction. He had ſo multiplied bonds, certificates, affidavits, warrants, ſufferances, and cockets; had ſupported them with ſuch ſevere penalties, and extended them without the leaſt conſideration of circumſtances to ſo many objects, that, had they all continued in their original force, commerce muſt ſpeedily have expired under them. Some of them, the miniſtry which gave them birth was obliged to deſtroy: with their own hand they ſigned the condemnation of their own regulations; confeſſing in ſo many words, in the preamble of their act of the 5th Geo. III. that ſome of theſe regulations had laid an unneceſſary reſtraint on the trade and correſpondence of his Majeſty's American ſubjects. This, in that miniſtry, was a candid confeſſion of a miſtake; but every alteration made in thoſe regulations by their ſucceſſors is to be the effect of envy, and American miſrepreſentation. So much for the author's ſimplicity in regulation.

I HAVE now gone through all which I think immediately eſſential in the author's ideas of war, of peace, of the comparative ſtates of England and France, of our actual ſituation; in his projects of oeconomy, of finance, of commerce, and of conſtitutional improvement. There remains nothing now to be conſidered, except his heavy cenſures upon the adminiſtration which was formed in 1765; which is commonly known by the name of the marquis of Rockingham's adminiſtration, as the adminiſtration which preceded it is by that of Mr. Grenville. Theſe cenſures relate chiefly to three heads: 1. To the repeal of the American ſtamp act. 2. To the commercial regulations then made. 3. To the courſe of foreign negotiations during that ſhort period.

[107]A PERSON who knew nothing of public affairs but from the writings of this author would be led to conclude, that, at the time of the change in June 1765, ſome well digeſted ſyſtem of adminiſtration, founded in national ſtrength, and in the affections of the people, proceeding in all points with the moſt reverential and tender regard to the laws, and purſuing with equal wiſdom and ſucceſs every thing which could tend to the internal proſperity, and to the external honour and dignity of this country, had been all at once ſubverted, by an irruption of a ſort of wild, licentious, unprincipled invaders, who wantonly, and with a barbarous rage, had defaced a thouſand fair monuments of the conſtitutional and political ſkill of their predeceſſors. It is natural indeed that this author ſhould have ſome diſlike to the adminiſtration which was formed in 1765. Its views in moſt things were different from thoſe of his friends; in ſome, altogether oppoſite to them. It is impoſſible that both of theſe adminiſtrations ſhould be the objects of public eſteem. Their different principles compoſe ſome of the ſtrongeſt political lines which diſcriminate the parties even now ſubſiſting amongſt us. The miniſters of 1764 are not indeed followed by very many in their oppoſitions; yet a large part of the people now in office entertain, or pretend to entertain, ſentiments entirely conformable to theirs; whilſt ſome of the former colleagues of the miniſtry which was formed in 1765, however they may have abandoned the connexion, and contradicted by their conduct the principles of their former friends, pretend, on their parts, ſtill to adhere to the ſame maxims. All the leſſer diviſions, which are indeed rather names of perſonal attachment than of party diſtinction, fall in with the one or the other of theſe leading parties.

[108]I INTEND to ſtate, as ſhortly as I am able, the general condition of public affairs, and the diſpoſition of the minds of men, at the time of the remarkable change of ſyſtem in 1765. The reader will have thereby a more diſtinct view of the comparative merits of theſe ſeveral plans, and will receive more ſatisfaction concerning the ground and reaſon of the meaſures which were then purſued, than, I believe, can be derived from the peruſal of thoſe partial repreſentations contained in The State of the Nation, and the other writings of thoſe who have continued, for now near three years, in the undiſturbed poſſeſſion of the preſs. This will, I hope, be ſome apology for my dwelling a little on this part of the ſubject.

ON the reſignation of the earl of Bute, in 1763, our affairs had been delivered into the hands of three miniſters of his recommendation; Mr. Grenville, the earl of Egremont, and the earl of Halifax. This arrangement, notwithſtanding the retirement of lord Bute, announced to the public a continuance of the ſame meaſures; nor was there more reaſon to expect a change from the death of the earl of Egremont. The earl of Sandwich ſupplied his place. The duke of Bedford, and the gentlemen who acted in that connexion, and whoſe general character and politics were ſufficiently underſtood, added to the ſtrength of the miniſtry, without making any alteration in their plan of conduct. Such was the conſtitution of the miniſtry which was changed in 1765.

AS to their politics, the principles of the peace of Paris governed in foreign affairs. In domeſtic, the ſame ſcheme prevailed, of contradicting the opinions, and diſgracing moſt of the perſons, who had been countenanced and employed in the late reign. The inclinations of the people were little attended [109] to; and a diſpoſition to the uſe of forcible methods ran through the whole tenour of adminiſtration. The nation in general was uneaſy and diſſatisfied. Sober men ſay cauſes for it, in the conſtitution of the miniſtry and the conduct of the miniſters. The miniſters, who have uſually a ſhort method on ſuch occaſions, attributed their unpopularity wholly to the efforts of faction. However this might be, the licentiouſneſs and tumults of the common people, and the contempt of government, of which our author ſo often and ſo bitterly complains, as owing to the miſmanagement of the ſubſequent adminiſtrations, had at no time riſen to a greater or a more dangerous height. The meaſures taken to ſuppreſs that ſpirit were as violent and licentious as the ſpirit itſelf; injudicious, precipitate, and ſome of them illegal. Inſtead of allaying, they tended infinitely to inflame the diſtemper; and whoever will be at the leaſt pains to examine, will find thoſe meaſures not only the cauſes of the tumults which then prevailed, but the real ſources of almoſt all the diſorders which have ariſen ſince that time. More intent on making a victim to party than an example of juſtice, they blundered in the method of purſuing their vengeance. By this means a diſcovery was made of many practices, common indeed in the office of ſecretary of ſtate, but wholly repugnant to our laws, and the genius of the Engliſh conſtitution. One of the worſt of theſe was, the wanton and indiſcriminate ſeizure of papers, even in caſes where the ſafety of the ſtate was not pretended in juſtification of ſo harſh a proceeding. The temper of the miniſtry had excited a jealouſy, which made the people more than commonly vigilant concerning every power which was exerciſed by government. The abuſe, however ſanctioned by cuſtom, was evident; but the miniſtry, inſtead of reſting in a prudent inactivity, or (what would [110] have been ſtill more prudent) taking the lead, in quieting the minds of the people, and aſcertaining the law upon thoſe delicate points, made uſe of the whole influence of government to prevent a parliamentary reſolution againſt theſe practices of office. And leſt the colourable reaſons, offered in argument againſt this parliamentary procedure, ſhould be miſtaken for the real motives of their conduct, all the advantage of privilege, all the arts and fineſſes of pleading, and great ſums of public money were laviſhed, to prevent any deciſion upon thoſe practices in the courts of juſtice. In the mean time, in order to weaken, ſince they could not immediately deſtroy, the liberty of the preſs, the privilege of parliament was voted away in all accuſations for a ſeditious libel. The freedom of debate in parliament itſelf was no leſs menaced. Officers of the army, of long and meritorious ſervice, and of ſmall fortunes, were choſen as victims for a ſingle vote, by an exertion of miniſterial power, which had been very rarely uſed, and which is extremely unjuſt, as depriving men not only of a place, but a profeſſion, and is indeed of the moſt pernicious example both in a civil and a military light.

WHILST all things were managed at home with ſuch a ſpirit of diſorderly deſpotiſm; abroad there was a proportionable abatement of all ſpirit. Some of our moſt juſt and valuable claims were in a manner abandoned. This indeed ſeemed not very inconſiſtent conduct in the miniſters who had made the treaty of Paris. With regard to our domeſtic affairs, there was no want of induſtry; but there was a great deficiency of temper and judgment, and manly comprehenſion of the public intereſt. The nation certainly wanted relief, and government attempted to adminiſter it. Two ways were principally choſen for this great purpoſe. The [111] firſt by regulation; the ſecond by new funds of revenue. Agreeably to this plan, a new naval eſtabliſhment was formed at a good deal of expence, and to little effect, to aid in the collection of the cuſtoms. Regulation was added to regulation; and the ſtricteſt and moſt unreſerved orders were given, for a prevention of all contraband trade here, and in every part of America. A teazing cuſtom-houſe, and a multiplicity of perplexing regulations, ever have, and ever will appear, the maſter-piece of finance to people of narrow views; as a paper againſt ſmuggling, and the importation of French finery, never fails of furniſhing a very popular column in a news-paper.

THE greateſt part of theſe regulations were made for America; and they fell ſo indiſcriminately on all ſorts of contraband, or ſuppoſed contraband, that ſome of the moſt valuable branches of trade were driven violently from our ports; which cauſed an univerſal conſternation throughout the colonies. Every part of the trade was infinitely diſtreſſed by them. Men of war now for the firſt time, armed with regular commiſſions of cuſtom-houſe officers, inveſted the coaſts, and gave to the collection of revenue the air of hoſtile contribution. About the ſame time that theſe regulations ſeemed to threaten the deſtruction of the only trade from whence the plantations derived any ſpecie, an act was made, putting a ſtop to the future emiſſion of paper currency, which uſed to ſupply its place among them. Hand in hand with this went another act, for obliging the colonies to provide quarters for ſoldiers. Inſtantly followed another law, for levying throughout all America new port duties, upon a vaſt variety of commodities of their conſumption, and ſome of which lay heavy upon objects neceſſary for their trade and fiſhery. Immediately upon the [112] heels of theſe, and amidſt the uneaſineſs and confuſion produced by a crowd of new impoſitions and regulations, ſome good, ſome evil, ſome doubtful, all crude and ill-conſidered, came another act, for impoſing an univerſal ſtamp duty on the colonies; and this was declared to be little more than an experiment, and a foundation of future revenue. To render theſe proceedings the more irritating to the colonies, the principal argument uſed in favour of their ability to pay ſuch duties was the liberality of the grants of their aſſemblies during the late war. Never could any argument be more inſulting and mortifying to a people habituated to the granting of their own money.

TAXES for the purpoſe of raiſing revenue had hitherto been ſparingly attempted in America. Without ever doubting the extent of its lawful power, parliament always doubted the propriety of ſuch impoſitions. And the Americans on their part never thought of conteſting a right by which they were ſo little affected. Their aſſemblies in the main anſwered all the purpoſes neceſſary to the internal oeconomy of a free people, and provided for all the exigencies of government which aroſe amongſt themſelves. In the midſt of that happy enjoyment, they never thought of critically ſettling the exact limits of a power, which was neceſſary to their union, their ſafety, their equality, and even their liberty. Thus the two very difficult points, ſuperiority in the preſiding ſtate, and freedom in the ſubordinate, were on the whole ſufficiently, that is, practically, reconciled: without agitating thoſe vexatious queſtions, which in truth rather belong to metaphyſics than politics, and which can never be moved without ſhaking the foundations of the beſt governments that have ever been conſtituted by human wiſdom. By this meaſure was let [113] looſe that dangerous ſpirit of diſquiſition, not in the coolneſs of philoſophical enquiry, but enflamed with all the paſſions of an haughty reſentful people, who thought themſelves deeply injured, and that they were contending for every thing that was valuable in the world.

IN England, our miniſters went on without the leaſt attention to theſe alarming diſpoſitions; juſt as if they were doing the moſt common things in the moſt uſual way, and among a people not only paſſive but pleaſed. They took no one ſtep to divert the dangerous ſpirit which began even then to appear in the colonies, to compromiſe with it, to mollify it, or to ſubdue it. No new arrangements were made in civil government; no new powers or inſtructions were given to governors; no augmentation was made, or new diſpoſition, of forces. Never was ſo critical a meaſure purſued with ſo little proviſion againſt its neceſſary conſequences. As if all common prudence had abandoned the miniſters, and as if they meant to plunge themſelves and us headlong into that gulph which ſtood gaping before them; by giving a year's notice of the project of their ſtamp-act, they allowed time for all the diſcontents of that country to feſter and come to a head, and for all the arrangements which factious men could make towards an oppoſition to the law. At the ſame time they carefully concealed from the eye of parliament thoſe remonſtrances which they had actually received; and which in the ſtrongeſt manner indicated the diſcontent of ſome of the colonies, and the conſequences which might be expected; they concealed them, even in defiance of an order of council, that they ſhould be laid before parliament. Thus, by concealing the true ſtate of the caſe, they rendered the wiſdom of the nation as improvident as their own temerity, [114] either in preventing or guarding againſt the miſchief. It has indeed, from the beginning to this hour, been the uniform policy of this ſet of men, in order at any hazard to obtain a preſent credit, to propoſe whatever might be pleaſing, as attended with no difficulty; and afterwards to throw all the diſappointment of the wild expectations they had raiſed, upon thoſe who have the hard taſk of freeing the public from the conſequences of their pernicious projects.

WHILST the commerce and tranquillity of the whole empire were ſhaken in this manner, our affairs grew ſtill more diſtracted by the internal diſſenſions of our miniſters. Treachery and ingratitude was charged from one ſide; deſpotiſm and tyranny from the other; the vertigo of the regency bill; the aukward reception of the ſilk bill in the houſe of commons, and the inconſiderate and abrupt rejection of it in the houſe of lords; the ſtrange and violent tumults which aroſe in conſequence, and which were rendered more ſerious, by being charged by the miniſters upon one another; the report of a groſs and brutal treatment of the —, by a miniſtry at the ſame time odious to the people; all conſpired to leave the public, at the cloſe of the ſeſſion of 1765, in as critical and perilous a ſituation, as ever the nation was, or could be, in a time when ſhe was not immediately threatened by her neighbours.

IT was at this time, and in theſe circumſtances, that a new adminiſtration was formed. Profeſſing even induſtriouſly, in this public matter, to avoid anecdotes; I ſay nothing of thoſe famous reconciliations and quarrels, which weakened the body that ſhould have been the natural ſupport of this adminiſtration. I run no riſk in affirming, that, ſurrounded as they were with difficulties of every [115] ſpecies, nothing but the ſtrongeſt and moſt uncorrupt ſenſe of their duty to the public could have prevailed upon ſome of the perſons who compoſed it to undertake the king's buſineſs at ſuch a time. Their preceding character, their meaſures while in power, and the ſubſequent conduct of many of them, I think, leave no room to charge this aſſertion to flattery. Having undertaken the commonwealth, what remained for them to do? to piece their conduct upon the broken chain of former meaſures? If they had been ſo inclined, the ruinous nature of thoſe meaſures which began inſtantly to appear would not have permitted it. Scarcely had they entered into office, when letters arrived from all parts of America, making loud complaints, backed by ſtrong reaſons, againſt ſeveral of the principal regulations of the late miniſtry, as threatening deſtruction to many valuable branches of commerce. Theſe were attended with repreſentations from many merchants and capital manufacturers at home, who had all their intereſts involved in the ſupport of lawful trade, and in the ſuppreſſion of every ſort of contraband. Whilſt theſe things were under conſideration, that conflagration blazed out at once in North America, an univerſal diſobedience, and open reſiſtance to the ſtamp act; and, in conſequence, an univerſal ſtop to the courſe of juſtice, and to trade and navigation, throughout that great important country; an interval during which the trading intereſt of England lay under the moſt dreadful anxiety which it ever felt.

THE repeal of that act was propoſed. It was much too ſerious a meaſure, and attended with too many difficulties upon every ſide, for the then miniſtry to have undertaken it, as ſome paltry writers have aſſerted, from envy and diſlike to their predeceſſors in office. As little could it be owing to [116] perſonal cowardice, and dread of conſequences to themſelves. Miniſters, timorous from their attachment to place and power, will fear more from the conſequences of one court intrigue, than from a thouſand difficulties to the commerce and credit of their country by diſturbances at three thouſand miles diſtance. From which of theſe the miniſters had moſt to apprehend at that time, is known, I preſume, univerſally. Nor did they take that reſolution from a want of the fulleſt ſenſe of the inconveniencies which muſt neceſſarily attend a meaſure of conceſſion from the ſovereign to the ſubject. That it muſt increaſe the inſolence of the mutinous ſpirits in America, was but too obvious. No great meaſure indeed, at a very difficult criſis, can be purſued, which is not attended with ſome miſchief; none but conceited pretenders in public buſineſs will hold any other language: and none but weak and unexperienced men will believe them, if they ſhould. If we were found in ſuch a criſis, let thoſe whoſe bold deſigns, and whoſe defective arrangements, brought us into it, anſwer for the conſequences. The buſineſs of the then miniſtry evidently was, to take ſuch ſteps, not as the wiſhes of our author, or as their own wiſhes dictated, but as the bad ſituation in which their predeceſſors had left them abſolutely required.

THE diſobedience to this act was univerſal throughout America; nothing, it was evident, but the ſending a very ſtrong military, backed by a very ſtrong naval force, would reduce the ſeditious to obedience. To ſend it to one town, would not be ſufficient; every province of America muſt be traverſed, and muſt be ſubdued. I do not entertain the leaſt doubt but this could be done. We might, I think, without much difficulty have deſtroyed our colonies. This deſtruction might be [117] effected, probably in a year, or in two at the utmoſt. If the queſtion was upon a foreign nation, where every ſucceſsful ſtroke adds to your own power, and takes from that of a rival, a juſt war with ſuch a certain ſuperiority would be undoubtedly an adviſable meaſure. But four million of debt due to our merchants, the total ceſſation of a trade annually worth four million more, a large foreign traffic, much home manufacture, a very capital immediate revenue ariſing from colony imports, indeed the produce of every one of our revenues greatly depending on this trade, all theſe were very weighty accumulated conſiderations, at leaſt well to be weighed, before that ſword was drawn, which even by its victories muſt produce all the evil effects of the greateſt national defeat. How public credit muſt have ſuffered, I need not ſay. If the condition of the nation, at the cloſe of our foreign war, was what this author repreſents it, ſuch a civil war would have been a bad couch on which to repoſe our wearied virtue. Far from being able to have entered into new plans of oeconomy, we muſt have launched into a new ſea, I fear a boundleſs ſea, of expence. Such an addition of debt, with ſuch a diminution of revenue and trade, would have left us in no want of a State of the nation to aggravate the picture of our diſtreſſes.

OUR trade felt this to its vitals: and our then miniſters were not aſhamed to ſay, that they ſympathized with the feelings of our merchants. The univerſal alarm of the whole trading body of England will never be laughed at by them as an ill-grounded or a pretended panic. The univerſal deſire of that body will always have great weight with them in every conſideration connected with commerce; neither ought the opinion of that body to be ſlighted (notwithſtanding the contemptuous [118] and indecent language of this author and his aſſociates) in any conſideration whatſoever of revenue. Nothing amongſt us is more quickly or deeply affected by taxes of any kind than trade; and if an American tax was a real relief to England, no part of the community would be ſooner, or more materially, relieved by it than our merchants. But they well know that the trade of England muſt be more burthened by one penny raiſed in America, than by three in England; and if that penny be raiſed with the uneaſineſs, the diſcontent, and the confuſion of America, more than by ten.

IF the opinion and wiſh of the landed intereſt is a motive, and it is a fair and juſt one, for taking away a real and large revenue, the deſire of the trading intereſt of England ought to be a juſt ground for taking away a tax, of little better than ſpeculation, which was to be collected by a war, which was to be kept up with the perpetual diſcontent of thoſe who were to be affected by it, and the value of whoſe produce, even after the ordinary charges of collection, was very uncertainz; after the extraordinary, the deareſt purchaſed revenue that ever was made by any nation.

THESE were ſome of the motives drawn from principles of convenience for that repeal. When the object came to be more narrowly inſpected, every motive concurred. Theſe colonies were evidently founded in ſubſervience to the commerce of Great Britain. From this principle, the whole ſyſtem of our laws concerning them became a ſyſtem [119] of reſtriction. A double monopoly was eſtabliſhed on the part of the parent country; 1. a monopoly of their whole import, which is to be altogether from Great Britain; 2. a monopoly of all their export, which is to be no where but to Great Britain, as far as it can ſerve any purpoſe here. On the ſame idea it was contrived that they ſhould ſend all their products to us raw, and in their firſt ſtate; and that they ſhould take every thing from us in the laſt ſtage of manufacture.

WERE ever a people under ſuch circumſtances, that is, a people who were to export raw, and to receive manufactured, and this, not a few luxurious articles, but all articles, even to thoſe of the groſſeſt, moſt vulgar, and neceſſary conſumption, a people who were in the hands of a general monopoliſt, were ever ſuch a people ſuſpected of a poſſibility of becoming a juſt object of revenue? All the ends of their foundation muſt be ſuppoſed utterly contradicted before they could become ſuch an object. Every trade-law we have made muſt have been eluded, and become uſeleſs, before they could be in ſuch a condition.

THE partizans of the new ſyſtem, who, on moſt occaſions, take credit for full as much knowledge as they poſſeſs, think proper on this occaſion to counterfeit an extraordinary degree of ignorance, and in conſequence of it to aſſert, ‘"that the balance (between the colonies and Great Britain) is unknown, and that no important concluſion can be drawn from premiſes ſo very uncertain."a Now to what can this ignorance be owing? were the navigation laws made, that this balance ſhould be unknown? is it from the courſe of exchange that it is unknown, which all the world knows to be greatly and perpetually againſt the colonies? is it [120] from the doubtful nature of the trade we carry on with the colonies? are not theſe ſchemiſts well apprized, that the coloniſts, particularly thoſe of the northern provinces, import more from Great Britain, ten times more, than they ſend in return to us? that a great part of their foreign balance is, and muſt be, remitted to London? I ſhall be ready to admit that the colonies ought to be taxed to the revenues of this country, when I know that they are out of debt to its commerce. This author will furniſh ſome ground to his theories, and communicate a diſcovery to the public, if he can ſhew this by any medium. But he tells us,b that ‘"their ſeas are covered with ſhips, and their rivers floating with commerce."’ This is true. But it is with our ſhips that theſe ſeas are covered; and their rivers float with Britiſh commerce. The American merchants are our factors; all in reality, moſt even in name. The Americans trade, navigate, cultivate, with Engliſh capitals; to their own advantage, to be ſure; for without theſe capitals their ploughs would be ſtopped, and their ſhips wind-bound. But he who furniſhes the capital muſt, on the whole, be the perſon principally benefited; the perſon who works upon it profits on his part too; but he profits in a ſubordinate way, as our colonies do; that is, as the ſervant of a wiſe and indulgent maſter, and no otherwiſe. We have all, except the peculium; without which, even ſlaves will not labour.

IF the author's principles, which are the common notions, be right, that the price of our manufactures is ſo greatly enhanced by our taxes; then the Americans already pay in that way a ſhare of our impoſitions. He is not aſhamed to aſſert, that ‘"France and China may be ſaid, on the ſame [121] principle, to bear a part of our charges, for they conſume our commodities."c Was ever ſuch a method of reaſoning heard of? Do not the laws abſolutely confine the colonies to buy from us, whether foreign nations ſell cheaper or not? On what other idea are all our prohibitions, regulations, guards, penalties, and forfeitures, framed? To ſecure to us, not a commercial preference, which ſtands in need of no penalties to enforce it; it finds its own way; but to ſecure to us a trade, which is a creature of law and inſtitution. What has this to do with the principles of a foreign trade, which is under no monopoly, and in which we cannot raiſe the price of our goods, without hazarding the demand for them? None but the authors of ſuch meaſures could ever think of making uſe of ſuch arguments.

WHOEVER goes about to reaſon on any part of the policy of this country with regard to America, upon the mere abſtract principles of government, or even upon thoſe of our own antient conſtitution, will be often miſled. Thoſe who reſort for arguments to the moſt reſpectable authorities, antient or modern, or reſt upon the cleareſt maxims, drawn from the experience of other ſtates and empires, will be liable to the greateſt errors imaginable. The object is wholly new in the world. It is ſingular: it is grown up to this magnitude and importance within the memory of man; nothing in hiſtory is parallel to it. All the reaſonings about it, that are likely to be at all ſolid, muſt be drawn from its actual circumſtances. In this new ſyſtem a principle of commerce, of artificial commerce, muſt predominate. This commerce muſt be ſecured by a multitude of reſtraints very alien from the ſpirit of liberty; and a powerful authority muſt [122] reſide in the principal ſtate, in order to enforce them. But the people who are to be ſubjects of theſe reſtraints are deſcendants of Engliſhmen; and of an high and free ſpirit. To hold over them a government made up of nothing but reſtraints and penalties, and taxes in the granting of which they can have no ſhare, will neither be wiſe, nor long practicable. People muſt be governed in a manner agreeable to their temper and diſpoſition; and men of free character and ſpirit muſt be ruled with, at leaſt, ſome condeſcenſion to this ſpirit and this character. The Britiſh coloniſt muſt ſee ſomething which will diſtinguiſh him from the coloniſts of other nations.

THOSE reaſonings, which infer from the many reſtraints under which we have already laid America, to our right to lay it under ſtill more, and indeed under all manner of reſtraints, are concluſive; concluſive as to right; but the very reverſe as to policy and practice. We ought rather to infer from our having laid the colonies under many reſtraints, that it is reaſonable to compenſate them by every indulgence that can by any means be reconciled to our intereſt. We have a great empire to rule, compoſed of a vaſt maſs of heterogeneous governments, all more or leſs free and popular in their forms, all to be kept in peace, and kept out of conſpiracy, with one another, all to be held in ſubordination to this country; while the ſpirit of an extenſive and intricate trading intereſt pervades the whole, always qualifying, and often controlling, every general idea of conſtitution and government. It is a great and difficult object; and I wiſh we may poſſeſs wiſdom and temper enough to manage it as we ought. Its importance is infinite. I believe the reader will be ſtruck, as I have been, with one ſingular fact. In the year 1704, but ſixty-five [123] years ago, the whole trade with our plantations was but a few thouſand pounds more in the export article, and a third leſs in the import, than that which we now carry on with the ſingle iſland of Jamaica:

 Exports.Imports.
 £.£.
Total Engliſh plantations in 1704,483.265814.491
Jamaica, 1767,467.6811.243.742

FROM the ſame information I find that our dealing with moſt of the European nations is but little encreaſed; theſe nations have been pretty much at a ſtand ſince that time; and we have rivals in their trade. This colony intercourſe is a new world of commerce in a manner created; it ſtands upon principles of its own; principles hardly worth endangering for any little conſideration of extorted revenue.

THE reader ſees, that I do not enter ſo fully into this matter as obviouſly I might. I have already been led into greater lengths than I intended. It is enough to ſay, that, before the miniſters of 1765 had determined to propoſe the repeal of the ſtamp act in parliament, they had the whole of the American conſtitution and commerce very fully before them. They conſidered maturely; they decided with wiſdom; let me add, with firmneſs. For they reſolved, as a preliminary to that repeal, to aſſert in the fulleſt and leaſt equivocal terms the unlimited legiſlative right of this country over its colonies; and, having done this, to propoſe the repeal, on principles, not of conſtitutional right, but on thoſe of expediency, of equity, of lenity, and of the true intereſts preſent and future [124] of that great object for which alone the colonies were founded, navigation and commerce. This plan, I ſay, required an uncommon degree of firmneſs, when we conſider that ſome of thoſe perſons who might be of the greateſt uſe in promoting the repeal, violently withſtood the declaratory act; and they who agreed with adminiſtration in the principles of that law, equally made, as well the reaſons on which the declaratory act itſelf ſtood, as thoſe on which it was oppoſed, grounds for an oppoſition to the repeal.

IF the then miniſtry reſolved firſt to declare the right, it was not from any opinion they entertained of its future uſe in regular taxation. Their opinions were full and declared againſt the ordinary uſe of ſuch a power. But it was plain, that the general reaſonings which were employed againſt that power went directly to our whole legiſlative right; and one part of it could not be yielded to ſuch arguments, without a virtual ſurrender of all the reſt. Beſides, if that very ſpecific power of levying money in the colonies were not retained as a ſacred truſt in the hands of Great Britain (to be uſed, not in the firſt inſtance for ſupply, but in the laſt exigence for controul), it is obvious, that the preſiding authority of Great Britain, as the head, the arbiter, and director of the whole empire, would vaniſh into an empty name, without operation or energy. With the habitual exerciſe of ſuch a power in the ordinary courſe of ſupply, no trace of freedom could remain to America.d If [125] Great Britain were ſtripped of this right, every principle of unity and ſubordination in the empire was gone for ever. Whether all this can be reconciled in legal ſpeculation, is a matter of no conſequence. It is reconciled in policy; and politics ought to be adjuſted, not to human reaſonings, but to human nature; of which the reaſon is but a part, and by no means the greateſt part.

FOUNDING the repeal on this baſis, it was judged proper to lay before parliament the whole detail of the American affairs, as fully as it had been laid before the miniſtry themſelves. Ignorance of thoſe affairs had miſled parliament. Knowledge alone could bring it into the right road. Every paper of office was laid upon the table of the two houſes; every denomination of men, either of America, or connected with it by office, by reſidence, by commerce, by intereſt, even by injury; men of civil and military capacity, officers of the revenue, merchants, manufacturers of every ſpecies, and from every town in England, attended at the bar. Such evidence never was laid before parliament. If an emulation aroſe among the miniſters and members of parliament, as the author rightly obſerves,e for the repeal of this act, as well as for the other regulations, it was not on the confident aſſertions, the airy ſpeculations, or the vain promiſes, of miniſters, that it aroſe. It was the ſenſe of parliament on the evidence before them. No one ſo much as ſuſpects that miniſterial allurements or terrors had any ſhare in it.

[126]OUR author is very much diſpleaſed, that ſo much credit was given to the teſtimony of merchants. He has an habit of railing at them; and he may, if he pleaſes, indulge himſelf in it. It will not do great miſchief to that reſpectable ſet of men. The ſubſtance of their teſtimony was, that their debts in America were very great: That the Americans declined to pay them, or to renew their orders, whilſt this act continued: That, under theſe circumſtances, they deſpaired of the recovery of their debts, or the renewal of their trade in that country: That they apprehended a general failure of mercantile credit. The manufacturers depoſed to the ſame general purpoſe, with this addition, that many of them had diſcharged ſeveral of their artificers; and, if the law and the reſiſtance to it ſhould continue, muſt diſmiſs them all.

THIS teſtimony is treated with great contempt by our author. It muſt be, I ſuppoſe, becauſe it was contradicted by the plain nature of things. Suppoſe then that the merchants had, to gratify this author, given a contrary evidence; and had depoſed, that while America remained in a ſtate of reſiſtance, whilſt four million of debt remained unpaid, whilſt the courſe of juſtice was ſuſpended for want of ſtamp paper, ſo that no debt could be recovered, whilſt there was a total ſtop to trade, becauſe every ſhip was ſubject to ſeizure for want of ſtamped clearances, and while the colonies were to be declared in rebellion, and ſubdued by armed force, that in theſe circumſtances they would ſtill continue to trade chearfully and fearleſsly as before; would not ſuch witneſſes provoke univerſal indignation for their folly or their wickedneſs, and be deſervedly hooted from the barf; would any human [127] faith have given credit to ſuch aſſertions? The teſtimony of the merchants was neceſſary for the detail, [128] and to bring the matter home to the feeling of the houſe; as to the general reaſons, they ſpoke abundantly for themſelves.

UPON theſe principles was the act repealed, and it produced all the good effect which was expected from it: quiet was reſtored; trade generally returned to its antient channels; time and means were furniſhed for the better ſtrengthening of government there, as well as for recovering, by judicious meaſures, the affections of the people, had that miniſtry continued, or had a miniſtry ſucceeded with diſpoſitions to improve that opportunity.

SUCH an adminiſtration did not ſucceed. Inſtead of profiting of that ſeaſon of tranquillity, in the very next year they choſe to return to meaſures of the [129] very ſame nature with thoſe which had been ſo ſolemnly condemned; though upon a ſmaller ſcale. The effects have been correſpondent. America is again in diſorder; not indeed in the ſame degree as formerly, nor any thing like it. Such good effects have attended the repeal of the ſtamp act, that the colonies have actually paid the taxes; and they have ſought their redreſs (upon however improper principles) not in their own violence, as formerlyg; but in the experienced benignity of parliament. They are not eaſy indeed, nor ever will be ſo, under this author's ſcheme of taxation; but we ſee no longer the ſame general fury and confuſion, which attended their reſiſtance to the ſtamp act. The author may rail at the repeal, and thoſe who propoſed it, as he pleaſes. Thoſe honeſt men ſuffer all his obloquy with pleaſure, in the midſt of the quiet which they have been the means of giving to their country; and would think his praiſes for their perſeverance in a pernicious ſcheme, a very bad compenſation for the diſturbance of our peace, and the ruin of our commerce. Whether the return to the ſyſtem of 1764, for raiſing a revenue in America, the diſcontents which have enſued in conſequence of it, the general ſuſpenſion of the aſſemblies in conſequence of theſe diſcontents, the uſe of the military power, and the new and dangerous commiſſions which now hang over them, will produce equally good effects, is greatly to be doubted. Never, I fear, will this nation and the colonies fall back upon their true centre of gravity, and natural point of repoſe, until the ideas of 1766 are reſumed, and ſteadily purſued.

AS to the regulations, a great ſubject of the author's accuſation, they are of two ſorts; one of a mixed nature, of revenue and trade; the other [130] ſimply relative to trade. With regard to the former I ſhall obſerve, that, in all deliberations concerning America, the ideas of that adminiſtration were principally theſe; to take trade as the primary end, and revenue but as a very ſubordinate conſideration. Where trade was likely to ſuffer, they did not heſitate for an inſtant to prefer it to taxes, whoſe produce at beſt was contemptible, in compariſon of the object which they might endanger. The other of their principles was, to ſuit the revenue to the object. Where the difficulty of collection, from the nature of the country, and of the revenue eſtabliſhment, is ſo very notorious, it was their policy to hold out as few temptations to ſmuggling as poſſible, by keeping the duties as nearly as they could on a balance with the riſk. On theſe principles they made many alterations in the port duties of 1764, both in the mode and in the quantity. The author has not attempted to prove them erroneous. He complains enough to ſhew that he is in an ill humour, not that his adverſaries have done amiſs.

AS to the regulations which were merely relative to commerce, many were then made; and they were all made upon this principle; that many of the colonies, and thoſe ſome of the moſt abounding in people, were ſo ſituated as to have very few means of traffic with this country. It became therefore our intereſt to let them into as much foreign trade as could be given them without interfering with our own; and to ſecure by every method the returns to the mother country. Without ſome ſuch ſcheme of enlargement, it was obvious that any benefit we could expect from theſe colonies muſt be extremely limited. Accordingly many facilities were given to their trade with the foreign plantations, and with the Southern parts of Europe. [131] As to the confining the returns to this country, adminiſtration ſaw the miſchief and folly of a plan of indiſcriminate reſtraint. They applied their remedy to that part where the diſeaſe exiſted, and to that only; on this idea they eſtabliſhed regulations, far more likely to check the dangerous clandeſtine trade with Hamburgh and Holland, than this author's friends, or any of their predeceſſors, had ever done.

THE friends of the author have a method ſurely a little whimſical in all this ſort of diſcuſſions. They have made an innumerable multitude of commercial regulations, at which the trade of England exclaimed with one voice, and many of which have been altered on the unanimous opinion of that trade. Still they go on, juſt as before, in a ſort of droning panegyric on themſelves, talking of theſe regulations as prodigies of wiſdom; and, inſtead of appealing to thoſe who are moſt affected and the beſt judges, they turn round in a perpetual circle of their own reaſonings and pretences; they hand you over from one of their pamphlets to another: ‘"See," ſay they, "this demonſtrated in The Regulations of the colonies."’ ‘"See this ſatisfactorily proved in The Conſiderations."’ By and by we ſhall have another; ‘"See for this The State of the Nation."’ I wiſh to take another method in vindicating the oppoſite ſyſtem. I refer to the petitions of merchants for theſe regulations; to their thanks when they were obtained; and to the ſtrong and grateful ſenſe they have ever ſince expreſſed of the benefits received under that adminiſtration.

ALL adminiſtrations have in their commercial regulations been generally aided by the opinion of ſome merchants; too frequently by that of a few, and thoſe a ſort of favourites: they have been directed by the opinion of one or two merchants, who [132] were to merit in flatteries, and to be paid in contracts; who frequently adviſed, not for the general good of trade, but for their private advantage. During the adminiſtration of which this author complains, the meetings of merchants upon the buſineſs of trade were numerous and public; ſometimes at the houſe of the marquis of Rockingham; ſometimes at Mr. Dowdeſwell's; ſometimes at ſir George Savile's, an houſe always open to every deliberation favourable to the liberty or the commerce of his country. Nor were theſe meetings confined to the merchants of London. Merchants and manufacturers were invited from all the conſiderable towns of England. They conferred with the miniſters and active members of parliament. No private views, no local intereſts prevailed. Never were points in trade ſettled upon a larger ſcale of information. They who attended theſe meetings well know, what miniſters they were who heard the moſt patiently, who comprehended the moſt clearly, and who provided the moſt wiſely. Let then this author and his friends ſtill continue in poſſeſſion of the practice of exalting their own abilities, in their pamphlets and in the news-papers. They never will perſwade the public, that the merchants of England were in a general confederacy to ſacrifice their own intereſts to thoſe of North America, and to deſtroy the vent of their own goods in favour of the manufactures of France and Holland.

HAD the friends of this author taken theſe means of information, his extreme terrors of contraband in the Weſt India iſlands would have been greatly quieted, and his objections to the opening of the ports would have ceaſed. He would have learned, from the moſt ſatisfactory analyſis of the Weſt India trade, that we have the advantage in every eſſential [133] article of it; and that almoſt every reſtriction on our communication with our neighbours there, is a reſtriction unfavourable to ourſelves.

SUCH were the principles that guided, and the authority that ſanctioned, theſe regulations. No man ever ſaid, that, in the multiplicity of regulations made in the adminiſtration of their predeceſſors, none were uſeful: ſome certainly were ſo; and I defy the author to ſhew a commercial regulation of that period, which he can prove, from any authority except his own, to have a tendency beneficial to commerce, that has been repealed. So far were that miniſtry from being guided by a ſpirit of contradiction or of innovation.

THE author's attack on that adminiſtration, for their neglect of our claims on foreign powers, is by much the moſt aſtoniſhing inſtance he has given, or that, I believe, any man ever did give, of an intrepid effrontery. It relates to the Manilla ranſom; to the Canada bills; and to the Ruſſian treaty. Could one imagine, that theſe very things, which he thus chooſes to object to others, have been the principal ſubjects of charge againſt his favourite miniſtry? Inſtead of clearing them of theſe charges, he appears not ſo much as to have heard of them; but throws them directly upon the adminiſtration which ſucceeded to that of his friends.

IT is not always very pleaſant to be obliged to produce the detail of this kind of tranſactions to the public view. I will content myſelf therefore with giving a ſhort ſtate of facts, which, when the author chooſes to contradict, he ſhall ſee proved, more, perhaps, to his conviction, than to his liking. The firſt fact then is, that the demand for the Manilla ranſom had been, in the author's favourite adminiſtration, ſo neglected, as to appear to have been [134] little leſs than tacitly abandoned. At home, no countenance was given to the claimants; and when it was mentioned in parliament, the then leader did not ſeem, at leaſt, a very ſanguine advocate in favour of the claim. Theſe things made it a matter of no ſmall difficulty to reſume and preſs that negotiation with Spain. However, ſo clear was our right, that the then miniſters reſolved to revive it; and ſo little time was loſt, that, though that adminiſtration was not compleated until the ninth of July 1765, on the 20th of the following Auguſt, general Conway tranſmitted a ſtrong and full remonſtrance on that ſubject to the earl of Rochfort. The argument, on which the court of Madrid moſt relied, was the dereliction of that claim by the preceding miniſters. However, it was ſtill puſhed with ſo much vigour, that the Spaniards, from a poſitive denial to pay, offered to refer the demand to arbitration. That propoſition was rejected; and the demand being ſtill preſſed, there was all the reaſon in the world to expect its being brought to a favourable iſſue; when it was thought proper to change the adminiſtration. Whether under their circumſtances, and in the time they continued in power, more could be done, the reader will judge; who will hear with aſtoniſhment a charge of remiſſneſs from thoſe very men, whoſe inactivity, to call it by no worſe a name, laid the chief difficulties in the way of the revived negotiation.

As to the Canada bills, this author thinks proper to aſſert,h ‘"that the proprietors found themſelves under a neceſſity of compounding their demands upon the French court, and accepting terms which they had often rejected, and which the earl of Halifax had declared he would ſooner forfeit his hand than ſign."’ When I know that [135] the earl of Halifax ſays ſo, the earl of Halifax ſhall have an anſwer; but I perſwade myſelf that his lordſhip has given no authority for this ridiculous rant. In the mean time, I ſhall only ſpeak of it as a common concern of that miniſtry.

IN the firſt place then I obſerve, that a convention, for the liquidation of the Canada bills, was concluded under the adminiſtration of 1766; when nothing was concluded under that of the favourites of this author.

2. THIS tranſaction was, in every ſtep of it, carried on in concert with the perſons intereſted, and was terminated to their entire ſatisfaction. They would have acquieſced perhaps in terms ſomewhat lower than thoſe which were obtained. The author is indeed too kind to them. He will, however, let them ſpeak for themſelves, and ſhew what their own opinion was of the meaſures purſued in their favouri. In what manner the execution of the convention has been ſince provided for, it is not my preſent buſineſs to examine.

3. THE proprietors had abſolutely deſpaired of being paid, at any time, any proportion of their demand, until the change of that miniſtry. The merchants were checked and diſcountenanced; they [136] had often been told, by ſome in authority, of the cheap rate at which theſe Canada bills had been procured; yet the author can talk of the compoſition of them as a neceſſity induced by the change in adminiſtration. They found themſelves indeed, before that change, under a neceſſity of hinting ſomewhat of bringing the matter into parliament; but they were ſoon ſilenced, and put in mind of the fate which the Newfoundland buſineſs had there met with. Nothing ſtruck them more than the ſtrong contraſt between the ſpirit, and method of proceeding, of the two adminiſtrations.

4. THE earl of Halifax never did, nor could, refuſe to ſign this convention; becauſe this convention, as it ſtands, never was before himk.

THE author's laſt charge on that miniſtry, with regard to foreign affairs, is the Ruſſian treaty of commerce, which the author thinks fit to aſſert, was concludedl ‘"on terms the earl of Buckinghamſhire had refuſed to accept of, and which had been deemed by former miniſters diſadvantageous to the nation, and by the merchants unſafe and unprofitable."’

BOTH the aſſertions in this paragraph are equally groundleſs. The treaty then concluded by ſir George Macartney was not on the terms which the earl of Buckinghamſhire had refuſed. The earl of Buckinghamſhire never did refuſe terms, becauſe the buſineſs never came to the point of refuſal, or acceptance; all that he did was, to receive the Ruſſian project for a treaty of commerce, and to tranſmit it to England. This was in November 1764; and he left Peterſburgh the January [137] following, before he could even receive an anſwer from his own court. The concluſion of the treaty fell to his ſucceſſor. Whoever will be at the trouble to compare it with the treaty of 1734, will, I believe, confeſs, that, if the former miniſters could have obtained ſuch terms, they were criminal in not accepting them.

BUT the merchants ‘"deemed them unſafe and unprofitable."’ What merchants? As no treaty ever was more maturely conſidered, ſo the opinion of the Ruſſian merchants in London was all along taken; and all the inſtructions ſent over were in exact conformity to that opinion. Our miniſter there made no ſtep without having previouſly conſulted our merchants reſident in Peterſburgh, who, before the ſigning of the treaty, gave the moſt full and unanimous teſtimony in its favour. In their addreſs to our miniſter at that court, among other things, they ſay, ‘"It may afford ſome additional ſatisfaction to your excellency, to receive a public acknowledgment of the entire and unreſerved approbation of every article in this treaty, from us who are ſo immediately and ſo nearly concerned in its conſequences."’ This was ſigned by the conſul general, and every Britiſh merchant in Peterſburgh.

THE approbation of thoſe immediately concerned in the conſequences is nothing to this author. He and his friends have ſo much tenderneſs for peoples intereſts, and underſtand them ſo much better than they do themſelves, that, whilſt theſe politicians are contending for the beſt of poſſible terms, the claimants are obliged to go without any terms at all.

ONE of the firſt and juſteſt complaints againſt the adminiſtration of the author's friends, was the want [138] of vigour in their foreign negotiations. Their immediate ſucceſſors endeavoured to correct that error, along with others; and there was ſcarcely a foreign court, in which the new ſpirit that had ariſen was not ſenſibly felt, acknowledged, and ſometimes complained of. On their coming into adminiſtration, they found the demolition of Dunkirk entirely at a ſtand: inſtead of demolition, they found conſtruction? for the French were then at work on the repair of the jettees. On the remonſtrances of general Conway, ſome parts of theſe jettees were immediately deſtroyed. The duke of Richmond perſonally ſurveyed the place, and obtained a fuller knowledge of its true ſtate and condition than any of our miniſters had done; and, in conſequence, had larger offers from the duke of Choiſeul than had ever been received. But, as theſe were ſhort of our juſt expectations under the treaty, he rejected them. Our then miniſters, knowing that, in their adminiſtration, the peoples minds were ſet at eaſe upon all the eſſential points of public and private liberty, and that no project of theirs could endanger the concord of the empire, were under no reſtraint from purſuing every juſt demand upon foreign nations.

THE author, towards the end of this work, falls into reflections upon the ſtate of public morals in this country: He draws uſe from his doctrine, by recommending his friend to the King and the public, as another duke of Sully; and he concludes the whole performance with a very devout prayer.

THE prayers of politicians may ſometimes be ſincere; and as this prayer is in ſubſtance, that the author, or his friends, may be ſoon brought into power, I have great reaſon to believe it is very much from the heart. It muſt be owned too that, after he has drawn ſuch a picture, ſuch a ſhocking [139] picture, of the ſtate of this country, he has great faith in thinking the means he prays for ſufficient to relieve us: after the character he has given of its inhabitants of all ranks and claſſes, he has great charity in caring much about them; and indeed, no leſs hope, in being of opinion, that ſuch a deteſtable nation can ever become the care of Providence. He has not even found five good men in our devoted city.

HE talks indeed of men of virtue and ability. But where are his men of virtue and ability to be found? Are they in the preſent adminiſtration? never were a ſet of people more blackened by this author. Are they among the party of thoſe (no ſmall body) who adhere to the ſyſtem of 1766? theſe, it is the great purpoſe of this book to calumniate. Are they the perſons who acted with his great friend, ſince the change in 1762, to his removal in 1765? ſcarcely any of theſe are now out of employment; and we are in poſſeſſion of his deſideratum. Yet I think he hardly means to ſelect, even ſome of the higheſt of them, as examples fit for the reformation of a corrupt world.

HE obſerves, that the virtue of the moſt exemplary prince that ever ſwayed a ſcepterm ‘"can never warm or illuminate the body of his people, if foul mirrours are placed ſo near him as to refract and diſſipate the rays at their firſt emanation."’ Without obſerving upon the propriety of this metaphor, or aſking how mirrours come to have loſt their old quality of reflecting, and to have acquired that of refracting, and diſſipating rays, and how far their foulneſs will account for this change; the remark itſelf is common and true: no leſs true, and equally ſurprizing from him, is that which immediately [140] precedes itn; ‘"it is in vain to endeavour to check the progreſs of irreligion and licentiouſneſs, by puniſhing ſuch crimes in one individual, if others equally culpable are rewarded with the honours and emoluments of the ſtate."’ I am not in the ſecret of the author's manner of writing; but it appears to me, that he muſt intend theſe reflections as a ſatire upon the adminiſtration of his happy years. Were ever the honours and emoluments of the ſtate more laviſhly ſquandered upon perſons ſcandalous in their lives than during that period? In theſe ſcandalous lives, was there any thing more ſcandalous than the mode of puniſhing one culpable individual? In that individual, is any thing more culpable than his having been ſeduced by the example of ſome of thoſe very perſons by whom he was thus perſecuted?

THE author is ſo eager to attack others, that he provides but indifferently for his own defence. I believe, without going beyond the page I have now before me, he is very ſenſible, that I have ſufficient matter of further, and, if poſſible, of heavier, charge againſt his friends, upon his own principles. But it is becauſe the advantage is too great, that I decline making uſe of it. I wiſh the author had not thought that all methods are lawful in party. Above all, he ought to have taken care not to wound his enemies through the ſides of his country. This he has done, by making that monſtrous and overcharged picture of the diſtreſſes of our ſituation. No wonder that he, who finds this country in the ſame condition with that of France at the time of Henry the Fourth, could alſo find a reſemblance between his political friend and the duke of Sully. As to thoſe perſonal reſemblances, people will often judge of them from their [141] affections: they may image in theſe clouds whatſoever figures they pleaſe; but what is the conformation of that eye which can diſcover a reſemblance of this country and theſe times to thoſe with which the author compares them? France, a country juſt recovered out of twenty-five years of the moſt cruel and deſolating civil war that perhaps was ever known. The kingdom, under a veil of momentary quiet, full of the moſt atrocious political, operating upon the moſt furious fanatical factions. Some pretenders even to the crown, and thoſe who did not pretend to the whole, aimed at the partition of the monarchy. There were almoſt as many competitors as provinces; and all abetted by the greateſt, the moſt ambitious, and moſt enterprizing power in Europe. No place ſafe from treaſon; no, not the boſoms on which the moſt amiable prince that ever lived repoſed his head; not his miſtreſſes; not even his queen. As to the finances, they had ſcarce an exiſtence, but as a matter of plunder to the managers, and of grants to inſatiable and ungrateful courtiers.

HOW can our author have the heart to deſcribe this as any ſort of parallel to our ſituation? To be ſure, an April ſhower has ſome reſemblance to a water-ſpout; for they are both wet: and there is ſome likeneſs between a ſummer evening's breeze and an hurricane; they are both wind: but who can compare our diſturbances, our ſituation, or our finances, to thoſe of France in the time of Henry? Great Britain is indeed at this time wearied, but not broken, with the efforts of a victorious foreign war; not ſufficiently relieved by an inadequate peace; but ſomewhat benefited by that peace, and infinitely by the conſequences of that war. The powers of Europe awed by our victories, and lying in ruins upon every ſide of us. Burthened [142] indeed we are with debt, but abounding with reſources. We have a trade, not perhaps equal to our wiſhes, but more than ever we poſſeſſed. In effect, no pretender to the crown; nor nutriment for ſuch deſperate and deſtructive factions as have formerly ſhaken this kingdom.

AS to our finances, the author trifles with us. When Sully came to thoſe of France, in what order was any part of the financial ſyſtem? or what ſyſtem was there at all? There is no man in office who muſt not be ſenſible that ours is, without the act of any parading miniſter, the moſt regular and orderly ſyſtem perhaps that was ever known: the beſt ſecured againſt all frauds in the collection, and all miſapplication in the expenditure of public money.

I ADMIT that, in this flouriſhing ſtate of things, there are appearances enough to excite uneaſineſs and apprehenſion. I admit there is a cankerworm in the roſe:

—medio de fonte leporum
Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipſis floribus angat.

THIS is nothing elſe than a ſpirit of diſconnexion, of diſtruſt, and of treachery, amongſt public men. It is no accidental evil; nor has its effect been truſted to the uſual frailty of nature: the diſtemper has been inoculated. The author is ſenſible of it, and we lament it together. This diſtemper is alone ſufficient to take away conſiderably from the benefits of our conſtitution and ſituation, and perhaps to render their continuance precarious. If theſe evil diſpoſitions ſhould ſpread much farther, they muſt end in our deſtruction; for nothing can ſave a people deſtitute of public and private faith. However, the author, for the preſent ſtate of things, has extended the charge by much too [143] widely; as men are but too apt to take the meaſure of all mankind from their own particular acquaintance. Barren as this age may be in the growth of honour and virtue, the country does not want, at this moment, as ſtrong, and thoſe not a few examples, as were ever known, of an unſhaken adherence to principle, and attachment to connexion, againſt every allurement of intereſt. Thoſe examples are not furniſhed by the great alone; nor by thoſe whoſe activity in public affairs may render it ſuſpected that they make ſuch a character one of the rounds in their ladder of ambition; but by men more quiet, and more in the ſhade, on whom an unmixed ſenſe of honour alone could operate. Such examples indeed are not furniſhed in great abundance amongſt thoſe who are the ſubjects of the author's panegyric. He muſt look for them in another camp. He who complains of the ill effects of a divided and heterogeneous adminiſtration, is not juſtifiable in labouring to render odious in the eyes of the public thoſe men, whoſe principles, whoſe maxims of policy, and whoſe perſonal character, can alone adminiſter a remedy to this capital evil of the age; neither is he conſiſtent with himſelf, in conſtantly extolling thoſe whom he knows to be the authors of the very miſchief of which he complains, and which the whole nation feels ſo deeply.

THE perſons who are the objects of his diſlike and complaint are many of them of the firſt families, and weightieſt properties, in the kingdom; but infinitely more diſtinguiſhed for their untainted honour public and private, and their zealous but ſober attachment to the conſtitution of their country, than they can be by any birth, or any ſtation. If they are the friends of any one great man rather than another, it is not that they make his [144] aggrandiſement the end of their union; or becauſe they know him to be the moſt active in caballing for his connexions the largeſt and ſpeedieſt emoluments. It is becauſe they know him, by perſonal experience, to have wiſe and enlarged ideas of the public good, and an invincible conſtancy in adhering to it; becauſe they are convinced, by the whole tenour of his actions, that he will never negotiate away their honour or his own: and that, in or out of power, change of ſituation will make no alteration in his conduct. This will give to ſuch a perſon, in ſuch a body, an authority and reſpect that no miniſter ever enjoyed among his venal dependants, in the higheſt plenitude of his power; ſuch as ſervility never can give, ſuch as ambition never can receive or reliſh.

THIS body will often be reproached by their adverſaries, for want of ability in their political tranſactions; they will be ridiculed for miſſing many favourable conjunctures, and not profiting of ſeveral brilliant opportunities of fortune: but they muſt be contented to endure that reproach; for they cannot acquire the reputation of that kind of ability without loſing all the other reputation they poſſeſs.

THEY will be charged too with a dangerous ſpirit of excluſion and proſcription, for being unwilling to mix in ſchemes of adminiſtration, which have no bond of union, or principle of confidence. That charge too they muſt ſuffer with patience. If the reaſon of the thing had not ſpoken loudly enough, the miſerable examples of the ſeveral adminiſtrations conſtructed upon the idea of ſyſtematic diſcord would be enough to frighten them from ſuch monſtrous and ruinous conjunctions. It is however falſe, that the idea of an united adminiſtration carries with it that of a proſcription of [145] any other party. It does indeed imply the neceſſity of having the great ſtrong holds of government in well-united hands, in order to ſecure the predominance of right and uniform principles; of having the capital offices of deliberation and execution in thoſe who can deliberate with mutual confidence, and who will execute what is reſolved with firmneſs and fidelity. If this ſyſtem cannot be rigorouſly adhered to in practice (and what ſyſtem can be ſo?) it ought to be the conſtant aim of good men to approach as nearly to it as poſſible. No ſyſtem of that kind can be formed, which will not leave room fully ſufficient for healing coalitions: but no coalition, which, under the ſpecious name of independency, carries in its boſom the unreconciled principles of the original diſcord of parties, ever was, or will be, an healing coalition. Nor will the mind of our ſovereign ever know repoſe, his kingdom ſettlement, or his buſineſs order, efficiency, or grace with his people, until things are eſtabliſhed upon the baſis of ſome ſet of men, who are truſted by the public, and who can truſt one another.

THIS comes rather nearer to the mark than the author's deſcription of a proper adminiſtration, under the name of men of ability and virtue, which conveys no definite idea at all; nor does it apply ſpecifically to our grand national diſtemper. All parties pretend to theſe qualities. The preſent miniſtry, no favourites of the author, will be ready enough to declare themſelves perſons of virtue and ability; and if they chooſe a vote for that purpoſe, perhaps it would not be quite impoſſible for them to procure it. But, if the diſeaſe be this diſtruſt and diſconnexion, it is eaſy to know who are ſound, and who are tainted; who are fit to reſtore us to health, who to continue, and to ſpread [146] the contagion. The preſent miniſtry being made up of draughts from all parties in the kingdom, if they ſhould profeſs any adherence to the connexions they have left, they muſt convict themſelves of the blackeſt treachery. They therefore chooſe rather to renounce the principle itſelf, and to brand it with the name of pride and faction. This teſt with certainty diſcriminates the opinions of men. The other is a deſcription vague and unſatisfactory.

AS to the unfortunate gentlemen who may at any time compoſe that ſyſtem, which, under the plauſible title of an adminiſtration, ſubſiſts but for the eſtabliſhment of weakneſs and confuſion; they fall into different claſſes, with different merits. I think the ſituation of ſome people in that ſtate may deſerve a certain degree of compaſſion; at the ſame time that they furniſh an example, which, it is to be hoped, by being a ſevere one, will have its effect, at leaſt, on the growing generation; if an original ſeduction, on plauſible but hollow pretences, into loſs of honour, friendſhip, conſiſtency, ſecurity, and repoſe, can furniſh it. It is poſſible to draw, even from the very proſperity of ambition, examples of terror, and motives to compaſſion.

I BELIEVE the inſtances are exceedingly rare of mens immediately paſſing over a clear marked line of virtue into declared vice and corruption. There are a ſort of middle tints and ſhades between the two extremes; there is ſomething uncertain on the confines of the two empires which they firſt paſs through, and which renders the change eaſy and imperceptible. There are even a ſort of ſplendid impoſitions ſo well contrived, that, at the very time the path of rectitude is quitted for ever, men ſeem to be advancing into ſome higher and nobler road [147] of public conduct. Not that ſuch impoſitions are ſtrong enough in themſelves; but a powerful intereſt, often concealed from thoſe whom it affects, works at the bottom, and ſecures the operation. Men are thus debauched away from thoſe legitimate connexions, which they had formed on a judgment, early perhaps, but ſufficiently mature, and wholly unbiaſſed. They do not quit them upon any ground of complaint, for grounds of juſt complaint may exiſt, but upon the flattering and moſt dangerous of all principles, that of mending what is well. Gradually they are habituated to other company; and a change in their habitudes ſoon makes a way for a change in their opinions. Certain perſons are no longer ſo very frightful, when they come to be known and to be ſerviceable. As to their old friends, the tranſition is eaſy; from friendſhip to civility; from civility to enmity: few are the ſteps from dereliction to perſecution.

PEOPLE not very well grounded in the principles of public morality find a ſet of maxims in office ready made for them, which they aſſume as naturally and inevitably, as any of the inſignia or inſtruments of the ſituation. A certain tone of the ſolid and practical is immediately acquired. Every former profeſſion of public ſpirit is to be conſidered as a debauch of youth, or, at beſt, as a viſionary ſcheme of unattainable perfection. The very idea of conſiſtency is exploded. The convenience of the buſineſs of the day is to furniſh the principle for doing it. Then the whole miniſterial cant is quickly got by heart. The prevalence of faction is to be lamented. All oppoſition is to be regarded as the effect of envy and diſappointed ambition. All adminiſtrations are declared to be alike. The ſame neceſſity juſtifies all their meaſures. [148] It is no longer a matter of diſcuſſion, who or what adminiſtration is; but that adminiſtration is to be ſupported, is a general maxim. Flattering themſelves that their power is become neceſſary to the ſupport of all order and government; every thing which tends to the ſupport of that power is ſanctified, and becomes a part of the public intereſt.

GROWING every day more formed to affairs, and better knit in their limbs, when the occaſion (now the only rule) requires it, they become capable of ſacrificing thoſe very perſons to whom they had before ſacrificed their original friends. It is now only in the ordinary courſe of buſineſs to alter an opinion, or to betray a connexion. Frequently relinquiſhing one ſet of men and adopting another, they grow into a total indifference to human feeling, as they had before to moral obligation; until at length, no one original impreſſion remains upon their minds; every principle is obliterated; every ſentiment effaced.

IN the mean time, that power, which all theſe changes aimed at ſecuring, remains ſtill as tottering and as uncertain as ever. They are delivered up into the hands of thoſe who feel neither reſpect for their perſons, nor gratitude for their favours; who are put about them in appearance to ſerve, in reality to govern them; and, when the ſignal is given, to abandon and deſtroy them in order to ſet up ſome newer dupe of ambition, who in his turn is to be abandoned and deſtroyed. Thus living in a ſtate of continual uneaſineſs and ferment, ſoftened only by the miſerable conſolation of giving now and then preferments to thoſe for whom they have no value; they are unhappy in their ſituation, yet find it impoſſible to reſign it. Until at length, ſoured in temper, and diſappointed by the very attainment [149] of their ends, in ſome angry, in ſome haughty, or ſome negligent moment, they incur the diſpleaſure of thoſe upon whom they have rendered their very being dependent. Then perierunt tempora longi ſervitii; they are caſt off with ſcorn; they are turned out, emptied of all natural character, of all intrinſic worth, of all eſſential dignity, and deprived of every conſolation of friendſhip. Having rendered all retreat to old principles ridiculous, and to old regards impracticable, not being able to counterfeit pleaſure, or to diſcharge diſcontent, nothing being ſincere, or right, or balanced in their minds, it is more than a chance, that, in the delirium of the laſt ſtage of their diſtempered power, they make an inſane political teſtament, by which they throw all their remaining weight and conſequence into the ſcale of their declared enemies, and the avowed authors of their deſtruction. Thus they finiſh their courſe. Had it been poſſible that the whole, or even a great part of theſe effects on their minds, I ſay nothing of the effect upon their fortunes, could have appeared to them in their firſt departure from the right line, it is certain they would have rejected every temptation with horror. The principle of theſe remarks, like every good principle in morality, is trite; but its frequent application is not the leſs neceſſary.

As to others, who are plain practical men, they have been guiltleſs at all times of all public pretence. Neither the author nor any one elſe, has reaſon to be angry with them. They belonged to his friend for their intereſt; for their intereſt they quitted him; and when it is their intereſt, he may depend upon it, they will return to their former connexion. Such people ſubſiſt at all times, and, though the nuiſance of all, are at no time a worthy [150] ſubject of diſcuſſion. It is falſe virtue and plauſible error that do the miſchief.

IF men come to government with right diſpoſitions, they have not that unfavourable ſubject which this author repreſents to work upon. Our circumſtances are indeed critical; but then they are the critical circumſtances of a ſtrong and mighty nation. If corruption and meanneſs are greatly ſpread, they are not ſpread univerſally. Many public men are hitherto examples of public ſpirit and integrity. Whole parties, as far as large bodies can be uniform, have preſerved character. However they may be deceived in ſome particulars, I know of no ſet of men amongſt us, which does not contain perſons, on whom the nation, in a difficult exigence, may well value itſelf. Private life, which is the nurſery of the commonwealth, is yet in general pure, and on the whole diſpoſed to virtue; and the people at large want neither generoſity nor ſpirit. No ſmall part of that very luxury, which is ſo much the ſubject of the author's declamation, but which, in moſt parts of life, by being well balanced and diffuſed, is only decency and convenience, has perhaps as many, or more, good than evil conſequences attending it. It certainly excites induſtry, nouriſhes emulation, and inſpires ſome ſenſe of perſonal value into all ranks of people. What we want is, to eſtabliſh more fully an opinion of uniformity, and conſiſtency of character, in the leading men of the ſtate; ſuch as will reſtore ſome confidence to profeſſion and appearance, ſuch as will fix ſubordination upon eſteem. Without this, all ſchemes are begun at the wrong end. All who join in them are liable to their conſequences. All men who, under whatever pretext, take a part in the formation or the ſupport of ſyſtems conſtructed in ſuch a manner as muſt, in their nature, diſable them [151] from the execution of their duty, have made themſelves guilty of all the preſent diſtraction, and of the future ruin, which they may bring upon their country.

IT is a ſerious affair, this ſtudied diſunion in government. In caſes where union is moſt conſulted in the conſtitution of a miniſtry, and where perſons are beſt diſpoſed to promote it, differences, from the various ideas of men, will ariſe; and, from their paſſions, will often ferment into violent heats, ſo as greatly to diſorder all public buſineſs. What muſt be the conſequence, when the very diſtemper is made the baſis of the conſtitution; and the original weakneſs of humane nature is ſtill further enfeebled by art and contrivance? It muſt ſubvert government from the very foundation. It turns our public councils into the moſt miſchievous cabals; where the conſideration is, not how the nation's buſineſs ſhall be carried on, but how thoſe who ought to carry it on ſhall circumvent each other. In ſuch a ſtate of things, no order, uniformity, dignity, or effect, can appear in our proceedings either at home or abroad. Nor will it make much difference, whether ſome of the conſtituent parts of ſuch an adminiſtration are men of virtue or ability, or not; ſuppoſing it poſſible that ſuch men, with their eyes open, ſhould chooſe to make a part in ſuch a body.

THE effects of all human contrivances are in the hand of Providence. I do not like to anſwer, as our author ſo readily does, for the event of any ſpeculation. But ſure the nature of our diſorders, if any thing, muſt indicate the proper remedy. Men who act ſteadily on the principles I have ſtated may in all events be very ſerviceable to their country; in one caſe, by furniſhing (if their Sovereign ſhould be ſo adviſed) an adminiſtration formed upon ideas very different from thoſe which have for ſome time [152] been unfortunately faſhionable. But, if this ſhould not be the caſe, they may be ſtill ſerviceable; for the example of a large body of men, ſteadily ſacrificing ambition to principle, can never be without uſe. It will certainly be prolific, and draw others to an imitation. Vera gloria radices agit, atque etiam propagatur.

I DO not think myſelf of conſequence enough to imitate my author, in troubling the world with the prayers or wiſhes I may form for the public: full as little am I diſpoſed to imitate his profeſſions; thoſe profeſſions are long ſince worn out in the political ſervice. If the work will not ſpeak for the author, his own declarations deſerve but little credit.

APPENDIX.

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SO much miſplaced induſtry has been uſed by the author of the State of the Nation, as well as by other writers, to infuſe diſcontent into the people, on account of the late war, and of the effects of our national debt; that nothing ought to be omitted which may tend to diſabuſe the public upon theſe ſubjects. When I had gone through the foregoing ſheets, I recollected, that, in my pages 43 and 44, I only gave the comparative ſtates of the duties collected by the exciſe at large; together with the quantities of ſtrong beer brewed in the two periods which are there compared. It might be ſtill thought, that ſome other articles of popular conſumption, of general convenience, and connected with our manufactures, might poſſibly have declined. I therefore now think it right to lay before the reader the ſtate of the produce of three capital duties on ſuch articles; duties which have frequently been made the ſubject of popular complaint. The duty on candles; that on ſoap, paper, &c. and that on hides.

  £.
Average of net produce of duty on ſoap, &c. for 8 years, ending 1767, 264.902
Average of ditto for 8 years, ending 1754, 228.114
 Average encreaſe, £.36.788
Average of net produce of duty on candles for 8 years, ending 1767, 155.789
Average of ditto for 8 years, ending 1754, 136.716
 Average encreaſe, £.19.073
[154]Average net produce of duty on hides, 8 years, ending 1767, 189.216
Ditto 8 years, ending 1754, 168.200
 Average encreaſe, £.21.016

This encreaſe has not ariſen from any additional duties. None have been impoſed on theſe articles during the war. Notwithſtanding the burthens of the war, and the late dearneſs of proviſions, the conſumption of all theſe articles has encreaſed, and the revenue along with it.

THERE is another point in The State of the Nation, to which, I fear, I have not been ſo full in my anſwer as I ought to have been, and as I am well warranted to be. The author has endeavoured to throw a ſuſpicion, or ſomething more, on that ſalutary, and indeed neceſſary meaſure of opening the ports in Jamaica.* ‘"Orders were given," ſays he, "in Auguſt, 1765, for the free admiſſion of Spaniſh veſſels into all the colonies."’ He then obſerves, that the exports to Jamaica fell £. 40.904 ſhort of thoſe of 1764; and that the exports of the ſucceeding year, 1766, fell ſhort of thoſe of 1765, about eighty pounds; from whence he wiſely infers, that, this decline of exports being ſince the relaxation of the laws of trade, there is a juſt ground of ſuſpicion, that the colonies have been ſupplied with foreign commodities inſtead of Britiſh.

HERE, as uſual with him, the author builds on a fact which is abſolutely falſe; and which, being ſo, renders his whole hypotheſis abſurd and impoſſible. He aſſerts, that the order for admitting Spaniſh veſſels was given in Auguſt, 1765. That order was not ſigned at the treaſury board until the 15th day of the November following; and therefore ſo far from affecting the exports of the year 1765, that, ſuppoſing all poſſible diligence in the commiſſioners of the cuſtoms in expediting that order, and every advantage of veſſels ready to ſail, and the moſt favourable wind, it would hardly even arrive in Jamaica within the limits of that year.

[155]THIS order could therefore by no poſſibility be a cauſe of the decreaſe of exports in 1765. If it had any miſchievous operation, it could not be before 1766. In that year, according to our author, the exports fell ſhort of the preceding, juſt eighty pounds. He is welcome to that diminution; and to all the conſequences he can draw from it.

BUT, as an auxiliary to account for this dreadful loſs, he brings in the Free-port act, which he obſerves (for his convenience) to have been made in ſpring, 1766; but (for his convenience likewiſe) he forgets, that, by the expreſs proviſion of the act, the regulation was not to be in force in Jamaica until the November following. Miraculous muſt be the activity of that contraband whoſe operation in America could, before the end of that year, have re-acted upon England, and checked the exportation from hence! unleſs he chooſes to ſuppoſe, that the merchants, at whoſe ſolicitation this act had been obtained, were ſo frighted at the accompliſhment of their own moſt earneſt and anxious deſire, that, before any good or evil effect from it could happen, they immediately put a ſtop to all further exportation.

IT is obvious that we muſt look for the true effect of that act at the time of its firſt poſſible operation, that is, in the year 1767. On this idea how ſtands the account?

 £.
1764 Exports to Jamaica456.528
1765415.624
1766415.544
1767 (firſt year of the Free-port act)467.681

This author, for the ſake of a preſent momentary credit, will hazard any future and permanent diſgrace. At the time he wrote, the account of 1767 could not be made up. This was the very firſt year of the trial of the Free-port act; and we find that the ſale of Britiſh commodities is ſo far from leſſened by that act, that the exports of 1767 amounts to £. 52.000 more than that of either of the two preceding years, and is £. 11.000 above that of his ſtandard year 1764. If I could prevail on myſelf to argue [156] in favour of a great commercial ſcheme from the appearance of things in a ſingle year, I ſhould from this encreaſe of export infer the beneficial effects of that meaſure. In truth, it is not wanting. Nothing but the thickeſt ignorance of the Jamaica trade could have made any one entertain a fancy, that the leaſt ill effect on our commerce could follow from this opening of the ports. But, if the author argues the effect of regulations in the American trade from the export of the year in which they are made, or even of the following; why did he not apply this rule to his own? He had the ſame paper before him which I have now before me. He muſt have ſeen that in his ſtandard year (the year 1764), the principal year of his new regulations, the export fell no leſs than £. 128.450 ſhort of that in 1763! Did the export trade revive by theſe regulations in 1765, during which year they continued in their full force? It fell about £. 40.000 ſtill lower. Here is a fall of £. 168.000; to account for which, would have become the author much better than piddling for an £. 80 fall in the year 1766 (the only year in which the order he objects to could operate), or in preſuming a fall of exports from a regulation which took place only in November 1766; whoſe effects could not appear until the following year; and which, when they do appear, utterly overthrow all his flimſy reaſons and affected ſuſpicions upon the effect of opening the ports.

THIS author, in the ſame paragraph, ſays, that ‘"it was aſſerted by the American factors and agents, that the commanders of our ſhips of war and tenders, having cuſtom-houſe commiſſions, and the ſtrict orders given in 1764 for a due execution of the laws of trade in the colonies, had deterred the Spaniards from trading with us; that the ſale of Britiſh manufactures in the Weſt Indies had been greatly leſſened, and the receipt of large ſums in ſpecie prevented."’

IF the American factors and agents aſſerted this, they had good ground for their aſſertion. They knew that the Spaniſh veſſels had been driven from our ports. The author does not poſitively deny the fact. If he ſhould, it will be [157] proved. When the factors connected this meaſure and its natural conſequences, with an actual fall in the exports to Jamaica, to no leſs an amount than £. 128.450 in one year, and with a further fall in the next, is their aſſertion very wonderful? The author himſelf is full as much alarmed by a fall of only £. 40.000; for, giving him the facts which he chuſes to coin, it is no more. The expulſion of the Spaniſh veſſels muſt certainly have been one cauſe, if not of the firſt declenſion of the exports, yet of their continuance in their reduced ſtate. Other cauſes had their operation, without doubt. In what degree each cauſe produced its effect, it is hard to determine. But the fact of a fall of exports upon the reſtraining plan, and of a riſe upon the taking place of the enlarging plan, is eſtabliſhed beyond all contradiction.

THIS author ſays, that the facts relative to the Spaniſh trade were aſſerted by American factors and agents; inſinuating, that the miniſtry of 1766 had no better authority for their plan of enlargement than ſuch aſſertions. The moment he chooſes it, he ſhall ſee the very ſame thing aſſerted by governors of provinces, by commanders of men of war, and by officers of the cuſtoms; perſons the moſt bound in duty to prevent contraband, and the moſt intereſted in the ſeizures to be made in conſequence of ſtrict regulation. I ſuppreſs them for the preſent; wiſhing that the author may not drive me to a more full diſcuſſion of this matter than it may be altogether prudent to enter into. I wiſh he had not made any of theſe diſcuſſions neceſſary.

THOUGHTS ON THE CAUSE OF THE PRESENT DISCONTENTS.
[]THOUGHTS ON THE CAUSE OF THE PRESENT DISCONTENTS.

[]
‘Hoc vero occultum, inteſtinum, domeſticum malum, non modo non exiſtit, verum etiam opprimit, antequam perſpicere atque explorare potueris. CIC.

IT is an undertaking of ſome degree of delicacy to examine into the cauſe of public diſorders. If a man happens not to ſucceed in ſuch an enquiry, he will be thought weak and viſionary; if he touches the true grievance, there is a danger that he may come near to perſons of weight and conſequence, who will rather be exaſperated at the diſcovery of their errors, than thankful for the occaſion of correcting them. If he ſhould be obliged to blame the favourites of the people, he will be conſidered as the tool of power; if he cenſures thoſe in power, he will be looked on as an inſtrument of faction. But in all exertions of duty ſomething is to be hazarded. In caſes of tumult and diſorder, our law has inveſted every man, in ſome ſort, with the authority of a magiſtrate. When the affairs of the nation are diſtracted, private people are, by the ſpirit of that law, juſtified in ſtepping a little out of their ordinary ſphere. They enjoy a privilege, of ſomewhat more dignity and effect, than that of idle lamentation over the calamities of their country. They may look into them narrowly; they [162] may reaſon upon them liberally; and if they ſhould be ſo fortunate as to diſcover the true ſource of the miſchief, and to ſuggeſt any probable method of removing it, though they may diſpleaſe the rulers for the day, they are certainly of ſervice to the cauſe of government. Government is deeply intereſted in every thing which, even through the medium of ſome temporary uneaſineſs, may tend finally to compoſe the minds of the ſubject, and to conciliate their affections. I have nothing to do here with the abſtract value of the voice of the people. But as long as reputation, the moſt precious poſſeſſion of every individual, and as long as opinion, the great ſupport of the ſtate, depend entirely upon that voice, it can never be conſidered as a thing of little conſequence either to individuals or to government. Nations are not primarily ruled by laws; leſs by violence. Whatever original energy may be ſuppoſed either in force or regulation; the operation of both is, in truth, merely inſtrumental. Nations are governed by the ſame methods, and on the ſame principles, by which an individual without authority is often able to govern thoſe who are his equals or his ſuperiors; by a knowledge of their temper, and by a judicious management of it; I mean,—when public affairs are ſteadily and quietly conducted; not when government is nothing but a continued ſcuffle between the magiſtrate and the multitude; in which ſometimes the one and ſometimes the other is uppermoſt; in which they alternately yield and prevail, in a ſeries of contemptible victories and ſcandalous ſubmiſſions. The temper of the people amongſt whom he preſides ought therefore to be the firſt ſtudy of a ſtateſman. And the knowledge of this temper it is by no means impoſſible for him to attain, if he has not an intereſt in being ignorant of what it is his duty to learn.

[163]TO complain of the age we live in, to murmur at the preſent poſſeſſors of power, to lament the paſt, to conceive extravagant hopes of the future, are the common diſpoſitions of the greateſt part of mankind; indeed the neceſſary effects of the ignorance and levity of the vulgar. Such complaints and humours have exiſted in all times; yet as all times have not been alike, true political ſagacity manifeſts itſelf, in diſtinguiſhing that complaint which only characterizes the general infirmity of human nature, from thoſe which are ſymptoms of the particular diſtemperature of our own air and ſeaſon.

NOBODY, I believe, will conſider it merely as the language of ſpleen or diſappointment, if I ſay, that there is ſomething particularly alarming in the preſent conjuncture. There is hardly a man in or out of power who holds any other language. That government is at once dreaded and contemned; that the laws are deſpoiled of all their reſpected and ſalutary terrors; that their inaction is a ſubject of ridicule, and their exertion of abhorrence; that rank, and office, and title, and all the ſolemn plauſibilities of the world, have loſt their reverence and effect; that our foreign politics are as much deranged as our domeſtic oeconomy; that our dependencies are ſlackened in their affection, and looſened from their obedience; that we know neither how to yield nor how to inforce; that hardly any thing above or below, abroad or at home, is ſound and intire; but that diſconnexion and confuſion, in offices, in parties, in families, in parliament, in the nation, prevail beyond the diſorders of any former time: theſe are facts univerſally admitted and lamented.

THIS ſtate of things is the more extraordinary, becauſe the great parties which formerly divided and agitated the kingdom are known to be in a [164] manner entirely diſſolved. No great external calamity has viſited the nation; no peſtilence or famine. We do not labour at preſent under any ſcheme of taxation new or oppreſſive in the quantity or in the mode. Nor are we engaged in unſucceſsful war; in which, our misfortunes might eaſily pervert our judgment; and our minds, ſore from the loſs of national glory, might feel every blow of fortune as a crime in government.

IT is impoſſible that the cauſe of this ſtrange diſtemper ſhould not ſometimes become a ſubject of diſcourſe. It is a compliment due, and which I willingly pay, to thoſe who adminiſter our affairs, to take notice in the firſt place of their ſpeculation. Our miniſters are of opinion, that the increaſe of our trade and manufactures, that our growth by colonization and by conqueſt, have concurred to accumulate immenſe wealth in the hands of ſome individuals; and this again being diſperſed amongſt the people, has rendered them univerſally proud, ferocious, and ungovernable; that the inſolence of ſome from their enormous wealth, and the boldneſs of others from a guilty poverty, have rendered them capable of the moſt atrocious attempts; ſo that they have trampled upon all ſubordination, and violently borne down the unarmed laws of a free government; barriers too feeble againſt the fury of a populace ſo fierce and licentious as ours. They contend, that no adequate provocation has been given for ſo ſpreading a diſcontent; our affairs having been conducted throughout with remarkable temper and conſummate wiſdom. The wicked induſtry of ſome libellers, joined to the intrigues of a few diſappointed politicians, have, in their opinion, been able to produce this unnatural ferment in the nation.

[165]NOTHING indeed can be more unnatural than the preſent convulſions of this country, if the above account be a true one. I confeſs I ſhall aſſent to it with great reluctance, and only on the compulſion of the cleareſt and firmeſt proofs; becauſe their account reſolves itſelf into this ſhort, but diſcouraging propoſition, ‘"That we have a very good miniſtry, but that we are a very bad people;"’ that we ſet ourſelves to bite the hand that feeds us; that with a malignant inſanity we oppoſe the meaſures, and ungratefully vilify the perſons, of thoſe, whoſe ſole object is our own peace and proſperity. If a few puny libellers, acting under a knot of factious politicians, without virtue, parts, or character (ſuch they are conſtantly repreſented by theſe gentlemen), are ſufficient to excite this diſturbance, very perverſe muſt be the diſpoſition of that people, amongſt whom ſuch a diſturbance can be excited by ſuch means. It is beſides no ſmall aggravation of the public misfortune, that the diſeaſe, on this hypotheſis, appears to be without remedy. If the wealth of the nation be the cauſe of its turbulence, I imagine it is not propoſed to introduce poverty, as a conſtable to keep the peace. If our dominions abroad are the roots which feed all this rank luxuriance of ſedition, it is not intended to cut them off in order to famiſh the fruit. If our liberty has enfeebled the executive power, there is no deſign, I hope, to call in the aid of deſpotiſm, to fill up the deficiencies of law. Whatever may be intended, theſe things are not yet profeſſed. We ſeem therefore to be driven to abſolute deſpair; for we have no other materials to work upon, but thoſe out of which God has been pleaſed to form the inhabitants of this iſland. If theſe be radically and eſſentially vitious, all that can be ſaid is, that thoſe men are very unhappy, to whoſe fortune or duty it falls to adminiſter the affairs [166] of this untoward people. I hear it indeed ſometimes aſſerted, that a ſteady perſeverance in the preſent meaſures, and a rigorous puniſhment of thoſe who oppoſe them, will in courſe of time infallibly put an end to theſe diſorders. But this, in my opinion, is ſaid without much obſervation of our preſent diſpoſition, and without any knowledge at all of the general nature of mankind. If the matter of which this nation is compoſed be ſo very fermentable as theſe gentlemen deſcribe it, leaven never will be wanting to work it up, as long as diſcontent, revenge, and ambition, have exiſted in the world. Particular puniſhments are the cure for accidental diſtempers in the ſtate; they inflame rather than allay thoſe heats which ariſe from the ſettled miſmanagement of the government, or from a natural ill diſpoſition in the people. It is of the utmoſt moment not to make miſtakes in the uſe of ſtrong meaſures; and firmneſs is then only a virtue when it accompanies the moſt perfect wiſdom. In truth, inconſtancy is a ſort of natural corrective of folly and ignorance.

I AM not one of thoſe who think that the people are never in the wrong. They have been ſo, frequently and outrageouſly, both in other countries and in this. But I do ſay, that in all diſputes between them and their rulers, the preſumption is at leaſt upon a par in favour of the people. Experience may perhaps juſtify me in going further. Where popular diſcontents have been very prevalent; it may well be affirmed and ſupported, that there has been generally ſomething found amiſs in the conſtitution, or in the conduct of government. The people have no intereſt in diſorder. When they do wrong, it is their error, and not their crime. But with the governing part of the ſtate, it is far otherwiſe. They certainly may act ill by [167] deſign, as well as by miſtake. ‘"Les revolutions qui arrivent dans les grands etats ne ſont point un effect du hazard, ni du caprice des peuples. Rein ne revolte les grands d'un royaume comme un Gouvernement foible et derange. Pour la populace, ce n'eſt jamais par envie d'attaquer qu'elle ſe ſouleve, mais par impatience de ſouffrir a."’ Theſe are the words of a great man; of a miniſter of ſtate; and zealous aſſertor of monarchy. They are applied to the ſyſtem of Favouritiſm which was adopted by Henry the third of France, and to the dreadful conſequences it produced. What he ſays of revolutions, is equally true of all great diſturbances. If this preſumption in favour of the ſubjects againſt the truſtees of power be not the more probable, I am ſure it is the more comfortable ſpeculation; becauſe it is more eaſy to change an adminiſtration than to reform a people.

UPON a ſuppoſition, therefore, that in the opening of the cauſe the preſumptions ſtand equally balanced between the parties, there ſeems ſufficient ground to entitle any perſon to a fair hearing, who attempts ſome other ſcheme beſide that eaſy one which is faſhionable in ſome faſhionable companies, to account for the preſent diſcontents. It is not to be argued that we endure no grievance, becauſe our grievances are not of the ſame ſort with thoſe under which we laboured formerly; not preciſely thoſe which we bore from the Tudors, or vindicated on the Stuarts. A great change has taken place in the affairs of this country. For in the ſilent lapſe of events as material alterations have been inſenſibly brought about in the policy and character of governments and nations, as thoſe which have been marked by the tumult of public revolutions.

[168]IT is very rare indeed for men to be wrong in their feelings concerning public miſconduct; as rare to be right in their ſpeculation upon the cauſe of it. I have conſtantly obſerved, that the generality of people are fifty years, at leaſt, behind-hand in their politics. There are but very few, who are capable of comparing and digeſting what paſſes before their eyes at different times and occaſions, ſo as to form the whole into a diſtinct ſyſtem. But in books every thing is ſettled for them, without the exertion of any conſiderable diligence or ſagacity. For which reaſon men are wiſe with but little reflection, and good with little ſelf-denial, in the buſineſs of all times except their own. We are very uncorrupt and tolerably enlightened judges of the tranſactions of paſt ages; where no paſſions deceive, and where the whole train of circumſtances, from the trifling cauſe to the tragical event, is ſet in an orderly ſeries before us. Few are the partizans of departed tyranny; and to be a whig on the buſineſs of an hundred years ago, is very conſiſtent with every advantage of preſent ſervility. This retroſpective wiſdom, and hiſtorical patriotiſm, are things of wonderful convenience; and ſerve admirably to reconcile the old quarrel between ſpeculation and practice. Many a ſtern republican, after gorging himſelf with a full feaſt of admiration of the Grecian commonwealths and of our true Saxon conſtitution, and diſcharging all the ſplendid bile of his virtuous indignation on king John and king James, ſits down perfectly ſatisfied to the coarſeſt work and homelieſt job of the day he lives in. I believe there was no profeſſed admirer of Henry the eighth among the inſtruments of the laſt king James; nor in the court of Henry the eighth, was there, I dare ſay, to be found a ſingle advocate for the favourites of Richard the ſecond.

NO complaiſance to our court, or to our age, can make me believe nature to be ſo changed, but [169] that public liberty will be among us, as among our anceſtors, obnoxious to ſome perſon or other; and that opportunities will be furniſhed, for attempting at leaſt, ſome alteration to the prejudice of our conſtitution. Theſe attempts will naturally vary in their mode according to times and circumſtances. For ambition, though it has ever the ſame general views, has not at all times the ſame means, nor the ſame particular objects. A great deal of the furniture of ancient tyranny is worn to rags; the reſt is entirely out of faſhion. Beſides, there are few ſtateſmen ſo very clumſy and aukward in their buſineſs, as to fall into the identical ſnare which has proved fatal to their predeceſſors. When an arbitrary impoſition is attempted upon the ſubject, undoubtedly it will not bear on its fore-head the name of Ship-money. There is no danger that an extenſion of the Foreſt laws ſhould be the choſen mode of oppreſſion in this age. And when we hear any inſtance of miniſterial rapacity, to the prejudice of the rights of private life, it will certainly not be the exaction of two hundred pullets, from a woman of faſhion, for leave to lie with her own huſbandb.

EVERY age has its own manners, and its politics dependent upon them; and the ſame attempts will not be made againſt a conſtitution fully formed and matured, that were uſed to deſtroy it in the cradle, or to reſiſt its growth during its infancy.

AGAINST the being of parliament, I am ſatisfied, no deſigns have ever been entertained ſince the revolution. Every one muſt perceive, that it is ſtrongly the intereſt of the court, to have ſome ſecond cauſe interpoſed between the miniſters and [170] the people. The gentlemen of the Houſe of Commons have an intereſt equally ſtrong, in ſuſtaining the part of that intermediate cauſe. However they may hire out the uſufruct of their voices, they never will part with the fee and inheritance. Accordingly thoſe who have been of the moſt known devotion to the will and pleaſure of a court, have at the ſame time been moſt forward in aſſerting an high authority in the Houſe of Commons. When they knew who were to uſe that authority, and how it was to be employed, they thought it never could be carried too far. It muſt be always the wiſh of an unconſtitutional ſtateſman, that an Houſe of Commons who are entirely dependent upon him, ſhould have every right of the people entirely dependant upon their pleaſure. It was ſoon diſcovered, that the forms of a free, and the ends of an arbitrary government, were things not altogether incompatible.

THE power of the crown, almoſt dead and rotten as prerogative, has grown up anew, with much more ſtrength, and far leſs odium, under the name of influence. An influence, which operated without noiſe and without violence; an influence which converted the very antagoniſt, into the inſtrument, of power; which contained in itſelf a perpetual principle of growth and renovation; and which the diſtreſſes and the proſperity of the country equally tended to augment, was an admirable ſubſtitute for a prerogative, that, being only the offspring of antiquated prejudices, had moulded in its original ſtamina irreſiſtible principles of decay and diſſolution. The ignorance of the people is a bottom but for a temporary ſyſtem; the intereſt of active men in the ſtate is a foundation perpetual and infallible. However, ſome circumſtances, ariſing, it muſt be confeſſed, in a great degree from accident, prevented the effects of this influence for a long time from [171] breaking out in a manner capable of exciting any ſerious apprehenſions. Although government was ſtrong and flouriſhed exceedingly, the Court had drawn far leſs advantage than one would imagine from this great ſource of power.

AT the revolution, the crown, deprived, for the ends of the revolution itſelf, of many prerogatives, was found too weak to ſtruggle againſt all the difficulties which preſſed ſo new and unſettled a government. The court was obliged therefore to delegate a part of its powers to men of ſuch intereſt as could ſupport, and of ſuch fidelity as would adhere to, its eſtabliſhment. Such men were able to draw in a greater number to a concurrence in the common defence. This connexion, neceſſary at firſt, continued long after convenient; and properly conducted might indeed, in all ſituations, be an uſeful inſtrument of government. At the ſame time, through the intervention of men of popular weight and character, the people poſſeſſed a ſecurity for their juſt portion of importance in the ſtate. But as the title to the crown grew ſtronger by long poſſeſſion, and by the conſtant increaſe of its influence, theſe helps have of late ſeemed to certain perſons no better than incumbrances. The powerful managers for government were not ſufficiently ſubmiſſive to the pleaſure of the poſſeſſors of immediate and perſonal favour, ſometimes from a confidence in their own ſtrength natural and acquired; ſometimes from a fear of offending their friends, and weakening that lead in the country, which gave them a conſideration independent of the court. Men acted as if the court could receive, as well as confer, an obligation. The influence of government, thus divided in appearance between the court and the leaders of parties, became in many caſes an acceſſion rather to the popular than to the royal [172] ſcale; and ſome part of that influence which would otherwiſe have been poſſeſſed as in a ſort of mort-main and unalienable domain, returned again to the great ocean from whence it aroſe, and circulated among the people. This method therefore of governing, by men of great natural intereſt or great acquired conſideration, was viewed in a very invidious light by the true lovers of abſolute monarchy. It is the nature of deſpotiſm to abhor power held by any means but its own momentary pleaſure; and to annihilate all intermediate ſituations between boundleſs ſtrength on its own part, and total debility on the part of the people.

TO get rid of all this intermediate and independent importance, and to ſecure to the court the unlimited and uncontrouled uſe of its own vaſt influence, under the ſole direction of its own private favour, has for ſome years paſt been the great object of policy. If this were compaſſed, the influence of the crown muſt of courſe produce all the effects which the moſt ſanguine partizans of the court could poſſibly deſire. Government might then be carried on without any concurrence on the part of the people, without any attention to the dignity of the greater, or to the affections of the lower ſorts. A new project was therefore deviſed, by a certain ſet of intriguing men, totally different from the ſyſtem of adminiſtration which had prevailed ſince the acceſſion of the houſe of Brunſwick. This project, I have heard, was firſt conceived by ſome perſons in the court of Frederick prince of Wales.

THE earlieſt attempt in the execution of this deſign was to ſet up for miniſter, a perſon, in rank indeed reſpectable, and very ample in fortune; but who, to the moment of this vaſt and ſudden elevation, was little known or conſidered in the [173] kingdom. To him the whole nation was to yield an immediate and implicit ſubmiſſion. But whether it was for want of firmneſs to bear up againſt the firſt oppoſition; or that things were not yet fully ripened, or that this method was not found the moſt eligible; that idea was ſoon abandoned. The inſtrumental part of the project was a little altered, to accommodate it to the time, and to bring things more gradually and more ſurely to the one great end propoſed.

THE firſt part of the reformed plan was to draw a line which ſhould ſeparate the court from the miniſtry. Hitherto theſe names had been looked upon as ſynonymous; but for the future, court and adminiſtration were to be conſidered as things totally diſtinct. By this operation, two ſyſtems of adminiſtration were to be formed; one which ſhould be in the real ſecret and confidence; the other merely oſtenſible, to perform the official and executory duties of government. The latter were alone to be reſponſible; whilſt the real adviſers, who enjoyed all the power, were effectually removed from all the danger.

SECONDLY, A party under theſe leaders was to be formed in favour of the court againſt the miniſtry: this party was to have a large ſhare in the emoluments of government, and to hold it totally ſeparate from, and independent of, oſtenſible adminiſtration.

THE third point, and that on which the ſucceſs of the whole ſcheme ultimately depended, was to bring parliament to an acquieſcence in this project. Parliament was therefore to be taught by degrees a total indifference to the perſons, rank, influence, abilities, connexions, and character, of the miniſters of the crown. By means of a diſcipline, [174] on which I ſhall ſay more hereafter, that body was to be habituated to the moſt oppoſite intereſts, and the moſt diſcordant politics. All connexions and dependencies among ſubjects were to be entirely diſſolved. As hitherto buſineſs had gone through the hands of leaders of whigs or tories, men of talents to conciliate the people, and engage to their confidence, now the method was to be altered; and the lead was to be given to men of no ſort of conſideration or credit in the country. This want of natural importance was to be their very title to delegated power. Members of parliament were to be hardened into an inſenſibility to pride as well as to duty. Thoſe high and haughty ſentiments, which are the great ſupport of independence, were to be let down gradually. Point of honour and precedence were no more to be regarded in parliamentary decorum, than in a Turkiſh army. It was to be avowed as a conſtitutional maxim, that the king might appoint one of his footmen, or one of your footmen, for miniſter; and that he ought to be, and that he would be, as well followed as the firſt name for rank and wiſdom in the nation. Thus parliament was to look on, as if perfectly unconcerned; while a cabal of the cloſet and back-ſtairs was ſubſtituted in the place of a national adminiſtration.

WITH ſuch a degree of acquieſcence, any meaſure of any court might well be deemed thoroughly ſecure. The capital objects, and by much the moſt flattering characteriſtics of arbitrary power, would be obtained. Every thing would be drawn from its holdings in the country to the perſonal favour and inclination of the prince. This favour would be the ſole introduction to power, and the only tenure by which it was to be held: ſo that no perſon looking towards another, and all looking [175] towards the court, it was impoſſible but that the motive which ſolely influenced every man's hopes muſt come in time to govern every man's conduct; till at laſt the ſervility became univerſal, in ſpite of the dead letter of any laws or inſtitutions whatſoever.

HOW it ſhould happen that any man could be tempted to venture upon ſuch a project of government, may at firſt view appear ſurprizing. But the fact is, that opportunities very inviting to ſuch an attempt have offered; and the ſcheme itſelf was not deſtitute of ſome arguments not wholly unplauſible to recommend it. Theſe opportunities and theſe arguments, the uſe that has been made of both, the plan for carrying this new ſcheme of government into execution, and the effects which it has produced, are in my opinion worthy of our ſerious conſideration.

HIS majeſty came to the throne of theſe kingdoms with more advantages than any of his predeceſſors ſince the Revolution. Fourth in deſcent, and third in ſucceſſion of his royal family, even the zealots of hereditary right, in him, ſaw ſomething to flatter their favourite prejudices; and to juſtify a transfer of their attachments, without a change in their principles. The perſon and cauſe of the Pretender were become contemptible; his title diſowned throughout Europe, his party diſbanded in England. His majeſty came indeed to the inheritance of a mighty war; but, victorious in every part of the globe, peace was always in his power, not to negociate, but to dictate. No foreign habitudes or attachments withdrew him from the cultivation of his power at home. His revenue for the civil eſtabliſhment, fixed (as it was then thought) at a large, but definite ſum, was ample, without being invidious. His influence, by additions from [176] conqueſt, by an augmentation of debt, by an increaſe of military and naval eſtabliſhment, much ſtrengthened and extended. And coming to the throne in the prime and full vigour of youth, as from affection there was a ſtrong diſlike, ſo from dread there ſeemed to be a general averſeneſs, from giving any thing like offence to a monarch, againſt whoſe reſentment oppoſition could not look for a refuge in any ſort of reverſionary hope.

THESE ſingular advantages inſpired his majeſty only with a more ardent deſire to preſerve unimpaired the ſpirit of that national freedom, to which he owed a ſituation ſo full of glory. But to others it ſuggeſted ſentiments of a very different nature. They thought they now beheld an opportunity (by a certain ſort of ſtateſmen never long undiſcovered or unemployed) of drawing to themſelves, by the aggrandiſement of a court faction, a degree of power which they could never hope to derive from natural influence or from honourable ſervice; and which it was impoſſible they could hold with the leaſt ſecurity, whilſt the ſyſtem of adminiſtration reſted upon its former bottom. In order to facilitate the execution of their deſign, it was neceſſary to make many alterations in political arrangement, and a ſingle change in the opinions, habits, and connexions of the greateſt part of thoſe who at that time acted in public.

IN the firſt place, they proceeded gradually, but not ſlowly, to deſtroy every thing of ſtrength which did not derive its principal nouriſhment from the immediate pleaſure of the court. The greateſt weight of popular opinion and party connexion were then with the duke of Newcaſtle and Mr. Pitt. Neither of theſe held their importance by the new tenure of the court; they were not therefore thought to be ſo proper as others for the ſervices [177] which were required by that tenure. It happened very favourably for the new ſyſtem, that under a forced coalition there rankled an incurable alienation and diſguſt between the parties which compoſed the adminiſtration. Mr. Pitt was firſt attacked. Not ſatisfied with removing him from power, they endeavoured by various artifices to ruin his character. The other party ſeemed rather pleaſed to get rid of ſo oppreſſive a ſupport; not perceiving, that their own fall was prepared by his, and involved in it. Many other reaſons prevented them from daring to look their true ſituation in the face. To the great Whig families it was extremely diſagreeable, and ſeemed almoſt unnatural, to oppoſe the adminiſtration of a prince of the houſe of Brunſwic. Day after day they heſitated, and doubted, and lingered, expecting that other counſels would take place; and were ſlow to be perſuaded, that all which had been done by the cabal, was the effect not of humour, but of ſyſtem. It was more ſtrongly and evidently the intereſt of the new court faction, to get rid of the great Whig connexions, than to deſtroy Mr. Pitt. The power of that gentleman was vaſt indeed and merited; but it was in a great degree perſonal, and therefore tranſient. Theirs was rooted in the country. For, with a good deal leſs of popularity, they poſſeſſed a far more natural and fixed influence. Long poſſeſſion of government; vaſt property; obligations of favours given and received; connexion of offices; ties of blood, of alliance, of friendſhip (things at that time ſuppoſed of ſome force); the name of Whig, dear to the majority of the people; the zeal early begun and ſteadily continued to the royal family: all theſe together formed a body of power in the nation, which was criminal and devoted. The great ruling principle of the cabal, and that which animated and harmonized all their proceedings, how various ſoever they may have [178] been, was to ſignify to the world, that the court would proceed upon its own proper forces only; and that the pretence of bringing any other into its ſervice was an affront to it, and not a ſupport. Therefore, when the chiefs were removed, in order to go to the root, the whole party was put under a proſcription, ſo general and ſevere as to take their hard-earned bread from the loweſt officers, in a manner which had never been known before, even in general revolutions. But it was thought neceſſary effectually to deſtroy all dependencies but one; and to ſhew an example of the firmneſs and rigour with which the new ſyſtem was to be ſupported.

THUS for the time were pulled down, in the perſons of the Whig leaders and of Mr. Pitt (in ſpite of the ſervices of the one at the acceſſion of the royal family, and the recent ſervices of the other in the war) the two only ſecurities for the importance of the people; power ariſing from popularity; and power ariſing from connexion. Here and there indeed a few individuals were left ſtanding, who gave ſecurity for their total eſtrangement from the odious principles of party connexion and perſonal attachment; and it muſt be confeſſed that moſt of them have religiouſly kept their faith. Such a change could not however be made without a mighty ſhock to government.

TO reconcile the minds of the people to all theſe movements, principles correſpondent to them had been preached up with great zeal. Every one muſt remember that the cabal ſet out with the moſt aſtoniſhing prudery, both moral and political. Thoſe who in a few months after ſouſed over head and ears into the deepeſt and dirtieſt pits of corruption, cried out violently againſt the indirect practices in the electing and managing of parliaments, which had formerly prevailed. This marvellous abhorrence [179] which the court had ſuddenly taken to all influence, was not only circulated in converſation through the kingdom, but pompouſly announced to the public, with many other extraordinary things, in a pamphletc which had all the appearance of a manifeſto preparatory to ſome conſiderable enterprize. Throughout, it was a ſatire, though in terms managed and decent enough, on the politics of the former reign. It was indeed written with no ſmall art and addreſs.

IN this piece appeared the firſt dawning of the new ſyſtem; there firſt appeared the idea (then only in ſpeculation) of ſeparating the court from the adminiſtration; of carrying every thing from national connexion to perſonal regards; and of forming a regular party for that purpoſe, under the name of king's men.

TO recommend this ſyſtem to the people, a perſpective view of the court gorgeouſly painted, and finally illuminated from within, was exhibited to the gaping multitude. Party was to be totally done away, with all its evil works. Corruption was to be caſt down from court, as Atè was from Heaven. Power was thenceforward to be the choſen reſidence of public ſpirit; and no one was to be ſuppoſed under any ſiniſter influence, except thoſe who had the misfortune to be in diſgrace at court, which was to ſtand in lieu of all vices and all corruptions. A ſcheme of perfection to be realized in a monarchy far beyond the viſionary republic of Plato. The whole ſcenery was exactly diſpoſed to captivate thoſe good ſouls, whoſe credulous morality is ſo in valuable a treaſure to crafty politicians. Indeed there was wherewithal to charm every body, except thoſe few who are not much pleaſed with profeſſions [180] of ſupernatural virtue, who know of what ſtuff ſuch profeſſions are made, for what purpoſes they are deſigned, and in what they are ſure conſtantly to end. Many innocent gentlemen, who had been talking proſe all their lives without knowing any thing of the matter, began at laſt to open their eyes upon their own merits, and to attribute their not having been lords of the Treaſury and lords of Trade many years before, merely to the prevalence of party, and to the miniſterial power, which had fruſtrated the good intentions of the court in favour of their abilities. Now was the time to unlock the ſealed fountain of royal bounty, which had been infamouſly monopolized and huckſtered, and to let it flow at large upon the whole people. The time was come, to reſtore royalty to its original ſplendour. Mettre le roy hors de page, became a ſort of watch-word. And it was conſtantly in the mouths of all the runners of the court, that nothing could preſerve the balance of the conſtitution from being overturned by the rabble, or by a faction of the nobility, but to free the ſovereign effectually from that miniſterial tyranny under which the royal dignity had been oppreſſed in the perſon of his majeſty's grandfather.

THESE were ſome of the many artifices uſed to reconcile the people to the great change which was made in the perſons who compoſed the miniſtry, and the ſtill greater which was made and avowed in its conſtitution. As to individuals, other methods were employed with them; in order ſo thoroughly to diſunite every party, and even every family, that no concert, order, or effect, might appear in any future oppoſition. And in this manner an adminiſtration without connexion with the people, or with one another, was firſt put in poſſeſſion of government. What good conſequences followed [181] from it, we have all ſeen; whether with regard to virtue, public or private; to the eaſe and happineſs of the ſovereign; or to the real ſtrength of government. But as ſo much ſtreſs was then laid on the neceſſity of this new project, it will not be amiſs to take a view of the effects of this royal ſervitude and vile durance, which was ſo deplored in the reign of the late monarch, and was ſo carefully to be avoided in the reign of his ſucceſſor. The effects were theſe.

IN times full of doubt and danger to his perſon and family, George the ſecond maintained the dignity of his crown connected with the liberty of his people, not only unimpaired, but improved, for the ſpace of thirty-three years. He overcame a dangerous rebellion, abetted by foreign force, and raging in the heart of his kingdoms; and thereby deſtroyed the ſeeds of all future rebellion that could ariſe upon the ſame principle. He carried the glory, the power, the commerce of England, to an height unknown even to this renowned nation in the times of its greateſt proſperity; and he left his ſucceſſion reſting on the true and only true foundations of all national and all regal greatneſs; affection at home, reputation abroad, truſt in allies, terror in rival nations. The moſt ardent lover of his country cannot wiſh for Great Britain an happier fate than to continue as ſhe was then left. A people emulous as we are in affection to our preſent ſovereign, know not how to form a prayer to Heaven for a greater bleſſing upon his virtues, or an higher ſtate of felicity and glory, than that he ſhould live, and ſhould reign, and, when Providence ordains it, ſhould die, exactly like his illuſtrious predeceſſor.

A GREAT prince may be obliged (though ſuch a thing cannot happen very often) to ſacrifice his private [182] inclination to his public intereſt. A wiſe prince will not think that ſuch a reſtraint implies a condition of ſervility; and truly, if ſuch was the condition of the laſt reign, and the effects were alſo ſuch as we have deſcribed, we ought, no leſs for the ſake of the ſovereign whom we love, than for our own, to hear arguments convincing indeed, before we depart from the maxims of that reign, or fly in the face of this great body of ſtrong and recent experience.

ONE of the principal topics which was then, and has been ſince, much employed by that politicald ſchool, is an affected terror of the growth of an ariſtocratic power, prejudicial to the rights of the crown, and the balance of the conſtitution. Any new powers exerciſed in the houſe of lords, or in the houſe of commons, or by the crown, ought certainly to excite the vigilant and anxious jealouſy of a free people. Even a new and unprecedented courſe of action in the whole legiſlature, without great and evident reaſon, may be a ſubject of juſt uneaſineſs. I will not affirm, that there may not have lately appeared in the houſe of lords a diſpoſition to ſome attempts derogatory to the legal rights of the ſubject. If any ſuch have really appeared, they have ariſen, not from a power properly ariſtocratic, but from the ſame influence which is charged with having excited attempts of a ſimilar nature in the houſe of commons; which houſe, if it ſhould have been betrayed into an unfortunate quarrel with its conſtituents, and involved in a charge of the very ſame nature, could have neither power nor inclination to repel ſuch attempts in others. Thoſe attempts in the houſe of lords can no more be called ariſtocratic proceedings, [183] than the proceedings with regard to the county of Middleſex in the houſe of commons can with any ſenſe be called democratical.

IT is true, that the peers have a great influence in the kingdom, and in every part of the public concerns. While they are men of property, it is impoſſible to prevent it, except by ſuch means as muſt prevent all property from its natural operation; an event not eaſily to be compaſſed, while property is power; nor by any means to be wiſhed, while the leaſt notion exiſts of the method by which the ſpirit of liberty acts, and of the means by which it is preſerved. If any particular peers, by their uniform, upright, conſtitutional conduct, by their public and their private virtues, have acquired an influence in the country; the people, on whoſe favour that influence depends, and from whom it aroſe, will never be duped into an opinion, that ſuch greatneſs in a peer is the deſpotiſm of an ariſtocracy, when they know and feel it to be the effect and pledge of their own importance.

I AM no friend to ariſtocracy, in the ſenſe at leaſt in which that word is uſually underſtood. If it were not a bad habit to moot caſes on the ſuppoſed ruin of the conſtitution, I ſhould be free to declare, that if it muſt periſh, I would rather by far ſee it reſolved into any other form, than loſt in that auſtere and inſolent domination. But, whatever my diſlikes may be, my fears are not upon that quarter. The queſtion, on the influence of a court, and of a peerage, is not, which of the two dangers is the moſt eligible, but which is the moſt imminent. He is but a poor obſerver, who has not ſeen, that the generality of peers, far from ſupporting themſelves in a ſtate of independent greatneſs, are but too apt to fall into an oblivion of their proper dignity, and to run headlong into [184] an abject ſervitude. Would to God it were true, that the fault of our peers were too much ſpirit! It is worthy of ſome obſervation, that theſe gentlemen, ſo jealous of ariſtocracy, make no complaints of the power of thoſe peers (neither few nor inconſiderable) who are always in the train of a court, and whoſe whole weight muſt be conſidered as a portion of the ſettled influence of the crown. This is all ſafe and right: but if ſome peers (I am very ſorry they are not as many as they ought to be) ſet themſelves, in the great concern of peers and commons, againſt a back-ſtairs influence and clandeſtine government, then the alarm begins; then the conſtitution is in danger of being forced into an ariſtocracy.

I REST a little the longer on this court topic, becauſe it was much inſiſted upon at the time of the great change, and has been ſince frequently revived by many of the agents of that party: for, whilſt they are terrifying the great and opulent with the horrors of mob-government, they are by other managers attempting (though hitherto with little ſucceſs) to alarm the people with a phantom of tyranny in the nobles. All this is done upon their favourite principle of diſunion, of ſowing jealouſies amongſt the different orders of the ſtate, and of disjointing the natural ſtrength of the kingdom; that it may be rendered incapable of reſiſting the ſiniſter deſigns of wicked men, who have engroſſed the royal power.

THUS much of the topics choſen by the courtiers to recommend their ſyſtem; it will be neceſſary to open a little more at large the nature of that party which was formed for its ſupport. Without this, the whole would have been no better than a viſionary amuſement, like the ſcheme of Harrington's political club, and not a buſineſs [185] in which the nation had a real concern. As a powerful party, and a party conſtructed on a new principle, it is a very inviting object of curioſity.

IT muſt be remembered, that ſince the revolution, until the period we are ſpeaking of, the influence of the crown had been always employed in ſupporting the miniſters of ſtate, and in carrying on the public buſineſs according to their opinions. But the party now in queſtion is formed upon a very different idea. It is to intercept the favour, protection and confidence of the crown in the paſſage to its miniſters; it is to come between them and their importance in parliament; it is to ſeparate them from all their natural and acquired dependencies; it is intended as the controul, not the ſupport, of adminiſtration. The machinery of this ſyſtem is perplexed in its movements, and falſe in its principle. It is formed on a ſuppoſition that the king is ſomething external to his government; and that he may be honoured and aggrandized, even by its debility and diſgrace. The plan proceeds expreſsly on the idea of enfeebling the regular executory power. It proceeds on the idea of weakening the ſtate in order to ſtrengthen the court. The ſcheme depending entirely on diſtruſt, on diſconnexion, on mutability by principle, on ſyſtematic weakneſs in every particular member; it is impoſſible that the total reſult ſhould be ſubſtantial ſtrength of any kind.

AS a foundation of their ſcheme, the cabal have eſtabliſhed a ſort of rota in the court. All ſorts of parties, by this means, have been brought into adminiſtration, from whence few have had the good fortune to eſcape without diſgrace; none at all without conſiderable loſſes. In the beginning of each arrangement no profeſſions of confidence and ſupport are wanting, to induce the leading [186] men to engage. But while the miniſters of the day appear in all the pomp and pride of power, while they have all their canvas ſpread out to the wind, and every ſail filled with the fair and proſperous gale of royal favour, in a ſhort time they find, they know not how, a current, which ſets directly againſt them; which prevents all progreſs; and even drives them backwards. They grow aſhamed and mortified in a ſituation, which, by its vicinity to power, only ſerves to remind them the more ſtrongly of their inſignificance. They are obliged either to execute the orders of their inferiors, or to ſee themſelves oppoſed by the natural inſtruments of their office. With the loſs of their dignity, they loſe their temper. In their turn they grow troubleſome to that cabal, which, whether it ſupports or oppoſes, equally diſgraces and equally betrays them. It is ſoon found neceſſary to get rid of the heads of adminiſtration; but it is of the heads only. As there always are many rotten members belonging to the beſt connexions, it is not hard to perſuade ſeveral to continue in office without their leaders. By this means the party goes out much thinner than it came in; and is only reduced in ſtrength by its temporary poſſeſſion of power. Beſides, if by accident, or in courſe of changes, that power ſhould be recovered, the junto have thrown up a retrenchment of theſe carcaſes, which may ſerve to cover themſelves in a day of danger. They conclude, not unwiſely, that ſuch rotten members will become the firſt objects of diſguſt and reſentment to their antient connexions.

THEY contrive to form in the outward adminiſtration two parties at the leaſt; which, whilſt they are tearing one another to pieces, are both competitors for the favour and protection of the [187] cabal; and, by their emulation, contribute to throw every thing more and more into the hands of the interior managers.

A MINISTER of ſtate will ſometimes keep himſelf totally eſtranged from all his colleagues; will differ from them in their councils, will privately traverſe, and publicly oppoſe, their meaſures. He will, however, continue in his employment. Inſtead of ſuffering any mark of diſpleaſure, he will be diſtinguiſhed by an unbounded profuſion of court rewards and careſſes; becauſe he does what is expected, and all that is expected, from men in office. He helps to keep ſome form of adminiſtration in being, and keeps it at the ſame time as weak and divided as poſſible.

HOWEVER, we muſt take care not to be miſtaken, or to imagine that ſuch perſons have any weight in their oppoſition. When, by them, adminiſtration is convinced of its inſignificancy, they are ſoon to be convinced of their own. They never are ſuffered to ſucceed in their oppoſition. They and the world are to be ſatisfied, that, neither office, nor authority, nor property, nor ability, eloquence, council, ſkill, or union, are of the leaſt importance; but that the mere influence of the court, naked of all ſupport, and deſtitute of all management, is abundantly ſufficient for all its own purpoſes.

WHEN any adverſe connexion is to be deſtroyed, the cabal ſeldom appear in the work themſelves. They find out ſome perſon of whom the party entertains an high opinion. Such a perſon they endeavour to delude with various pretences. They teach him firſt to diſtruſt, and then to quarrel with his friends; among whom, by the ſame arts, they excite a ſimilar diffidence of him; ſo that, in this [188] mutual fear and diſtruſt, he may ſuffer himſelf to be employed as the inſtrument in the change which is brought about. Afterwards they are ſure to deſtroy him in his turn; by ſetting up in his place ſome perſon in whom he had himſelf repoſed the greateſt confidence, and who ſerves to carry off a conſiderable part of his adherents.

WHEN ſuch a perſon has broke in this manner with his connexions, he is ſoon compelled to commit ſome flagrant act of iniquitous perſonal hoſtility againſt ſome of them (ſuch as an attempt to ſtrip a particular friend of his family eſtate), by which the cabal hope to render the parties utterly irreconcilable. In truth, they have ſo contrived matters, that people have a greater hatred to the ſubordinate inſtruments than to the principal movers.

AS in deſtroying their enemies they make uſe of inſtruments not immediately belonging to their corps, ſo in advancing their own friends they purſue exactly the ſame method. To promote any of them to conſiderable rank or emolument, they commonly take care that the recommendation ſhall paſs through the hands of the oſtenſible miniſtry: ſuch a recommendation might however appear to the world, as ſome proof of the credit of miniſters, and ſome means of increaſing their ſtrength. To prevent this, the perſons ſo advanced are directed, in all companies, induſtriouſly to declare, that they are under no obligations whatſoever to adminiſtration; that they have received their office from another quarter; that they are totally free and independent.

WHEN the faction has any job of lucre to obtain, or of vengeance to perpetrate, their way is, to ſelect, for the execution, thoſe very perſons to whoſe habits, friendſhips, principles, and declarations, ſuch [189] proceedings are publicly known to be the moſt adverſe; at once to render the inſtruments the more odious, and therefore the more dependent, and to prevent the people from ever repoſing a confidence in any appearance of private friendſhip, or public principle.

IF the adminiſtration ſeem now and then, from remiſſneſs, or from fear of making themſelves diſagreeable, to ſuffer any popular exceſſes to go unpuniſhed, the cabal immediately ſets up ſome creature of theirs to raiſe a clamour againſt the miniſters, as having ſhamefully betrayed the dignity of government. Then they compel the miniſtry to become active in conferring rewards and honours on the perſons who have been the inſtruments of their diſgrace; and, after having firſt vilified them with the higher orders for ſuffering the laws to ſleep over the licentiouſneſs of the populace, they drive them (in order to make amends for their former inactivity) to ſome act of atrocious violence, which renders them completely abhorred by the people. They who remember the riots which attended the Middleſex election; the opening of the preſent parliament; and the tranſaction relative to Saint George's Fields, will not be at a loſs for an application of theſe remarks.

THAT this body may be enabled to compaſs all the ends of its inſtitution, its members are ſcarcely ever to aim at the high and reſponſible offices of the ſtate. They are diſtributed with art and judgment through all the ſecondary, but efficient, departments of office, and through the houſeholds of all the branches of the royal family: ſo as on one hand to occupy all the avenues to the throne; and on the other to forward or fruſtrate the execution of any meaſure, according to their own intereſts. For with the credit and ſupport which they are known to [190] have, though for the greater part in places which are only a genteel excuſe for ſalary, they poſſeſs all the influence of the higheſt poſts; and they dictate publicly in almoſt every thing, even with a parade of ſuperiority. Whenever they diſſent (as it often happens) from their nominal leaders, the trained part of the ſenate, inſtinctively in the ſecret, is ſure to follow them; provided the leaders, ſenſible of their ſituation, do not of themſelves recede in time from their moſt declared opinions. This latter is generally the caſe. It will not be conceivable to any one who has not ſeen it, what pleaſure is taken by the cabal in rendering theſe heads of office thoroughly contemptible and ridiculous. And when they are become ſo, they have then the beſt chance for being well ſupported.

THE members of the court faction are fully indemnified for not holding places on the ſlippery heights of the kingdom, not only by the lead in all affairs, but alſo by the perfect ſecurity in which they enjoy leſs conſpicuous, but very advantageous ſituations. Their places are, in expreſs legal tenure, or in effect, all of them for life. Whilſt the firſt and moſt reſpectable perſons in the kingdom are toſſed about like tennis balls, the ſport of a blind and inſolent caprice, no miniſter dares even to caſt an oblique glance at the loweſt of their body. If an attempt be made upon one of this corps, immediately he flies to ſanctuary, and pretends to the moſt inviolable of all promiſes. No conveniency of public arrangement is available to remove any one of them from the ſpecific ſituation he holds; and the ſlighteſt attempt upon one of them, by the moſt powerful miniſter, is a certain preliminary to his own deſtruction.

CONSCIOUS of their independence, they bear themſelves with a lofty air to the exterior miniſters. [191] Like Janiſſaries, they derive a kind of freedom from the very condition of their ſervitude. They may act juſt as they pleaſe; provided they are true to the great ruling principle of their inſtitution. It is, therefore, not at all wonderful, that people ſhould be ſo deſirous of adding themſelves to that body, in which they may poſſeſs and reconcile ſatisfactions the moſt alluring, and ſeemingly the moſt contradictory; enjoying at once all the ſpirited pleaſure of independence, and all the groſs lucre and fat emoluments of ſervitude.

HERE is a ſketch, though a ſlight one, of the conſtitution, laws, and policy, of this new court corporation. The name by which they chuſe to diſtinguiſh themſelves, is that of King's men, or the King's friends, by an invidious excluſion of the reſt of his majeſty's moſt loyal and affectionate ſubjects. The whole ſyſtem, comprehending the exterior and interior adminiſtrations, is commonly called, in the technical language of the court, Double Cabinet; in French or Engliſh, as you chooſe to pronounce it.

WHETHER all this be a viſion of a diſtracted brain, or the invention of a malicious heart, or a real faction in the country, muſt be judged by the appearances which things have worn for eight years paſt. Thus far I am certain, that there is not a ſingle public man, in or out of office, who has not, at ſome time or other, born teſtimony to the truth of what I have now related. In particular, no perſons have been more ſtrong in their aſſertions, and louder and more indecent in their complaints, than thoſe who compoſe all the exterior part of the preſent adminiſtration; in whoſe time that faction has arrived at ſuch an height of power, and of boldneſs in the uſe of it, as may, in the end, perhaps bring about its total deſtruction.

[192]IT is true, that about four years ago, during the adminiſtration of the marquis of Rockingham, an attempt was made to carry on government without their concurrence. However, this was only a tranſient cloud; they were hid but for a moment; and their conſtellation blazed out with greater brightneſs, and a far more vigorous influence, ſome time after it was blown over. An attempt was at that time made (but without any idea of proſcription) to break their corps, to diſcountenance their doctrines, to revive connexions of a different kind, to reſtore the principles and policy of the whigs, to re-animate the cauſe of liberty by miniſterial countenance; and then for the firſt time were men ſeen attached in office to every principle they had maintained in oppoſition. No one will doubt, that ſuch men were abhorred and violently oppoſed by the court faction, and that ſuch a ſyſtem could have but a ſhort duration.

IT may appear ſomewhat affected, that in ſo much diſcourſe upon this extraordinary party, I ſhould ſay ſo little of the earl of Bute, who is the ſuppoſed head of it. But this was neither owing to affectation nor inadvertence. I have carefully avoided the introduction of perſonal reflections of any kind. Much the greater part of the topics which have been uſed to blacken this nobleman, are either unjuſt or frivolous. At beſt, they have a tendency to give the reſentment of this bitter calamity a wrong direction, and to turn a public grievance into a mean perſonal, or a dangerous national quarrel. Where there is a regular ſcheme of operations carried on, it is the ſyſtem, and not any individual perſon who acts in it, that is truly dangerous. This ſyſtem has not riſen ſolely from the ambition of lord Bute; but from the circumſtances which favoured it, and from an indifference [193] to the conſtitution which had been for ſome time growing among our gentry. We ſhould have been tried with it, if the earl of Bute had never exiſted; and it will want neither a contriving head nor active members, when the earl of Bute exiſts no longer. It is not, therefore, to rail at lord Bute, but firmly to embody againſt this court party and its practices, which can afford us any proſpect of relief in our preſent condition.

ANOTHER motive induces me to put the perſonal conſideration of lord Bute, wholly out of the queſtion. He communicates very little in a direct manner with the greater part of our men of buſineſs. This has never been his cuſtom. It is enough for him that he ſurrounds them with his creatures. Several imagine, therefore, that they have a very good excuſe for doing all the work of this faction, when they have no perſonal connexion with lord Bute. But whoever becomes a party to an adminiſtration, compoſed of inſulated individuals, without faith plighted, tie, or common principle; an adminiſtration conſtitutionally impotent, becauſe ſupported by no party in the nation; he who contributes to deſtroy the connexions of men and their truſt in one another, or in any ſort to throw the dependence of public counſels upon private will and favour, poſſibly may have nothing to do with the earl of Bute. It matters little whether he be the friend or the enemy of that particular perſon. But let him be who or what he will, he abets a faction that is driving hard to the ruin of his country. He is ſapping the foundation of its liberty, diſturbing the ſources of its domeſtic tranquillity, weakening its government over its dependencies, degrading it from all its importance in the ſyſtem of Europe.

[194]IT is this unnatural infuſion of a ſyſtem of favouritiſm into a government which in a great part of its conſtitution is popular, that has raiſed the preſent ferment in the nation. The people, without entering deeply into its principles, could plainly perceive its effects, in much violence, in a great ſpirit of innovation, and a general diſorder in all the functions of government. I keep my eye ſolely on this ſyſtem; if I ſpeak of thoſe meaſures which have ariſen from it, it will be ſo far only as they illuſtrate the general ſcheme. This is the fountain of all thoſe bitter waters of which, through an hundred different conduits, we have drunk until we are ready to burſt. The diſcretionary power of the crown in the formation of miniſtry, abuſed by bad or weak men, has given riſe to a ſyſtem, which, without directly violating the letter of any law, operates againſt the ſpirit of the whole conſtitution.

A PLAN of favouritiſm for our executory government is eſſentially at variance with the plan of our legiſlature. One great end undoubtedly of a mixed government like ours, compoſed of monarchy, and of controuls, on the part of the higher people, and the lower, is that the prince ſhall not be able to violate the laws. This is uſeful indeed and fundamental. But this, even at firſt view, is no more than a negative advantage; an armour merely defenſive. It is therefore next in order, and equal in importance, that the diſcretionary powers which are neceſſarily veſted in the monarch, whether for the execution of the laws, or for the nomination to magiſtracy and office, or for conducting the affairs of peace and war, or for ordering the revenue, ſhould all be exerciſed upon public principles and national grounds, and not on the likings or prejudices, the intrigues or policies, of a court. This, I ſaid, is [195] equal in importance to the ſecuring a government according to law. The laws reach but a very little way. Conſtitute government how you pleaſe, infinitely the greater part of it muſt depend upon the exerciſe of the powers which are left at large to the prudence and uprightneſs of miniſters of ſtate. Even all the uſe and potency of the laws depends upon them. Without them, your commonwealth is no better than a ſcheme upon paper; and not a living, acting, effective conſtitution. It is poſſible, that through negligence, or ignorance, or deſign artfully conducted, miniſters may ſuffer one part of government to languiſh, another to be perverted from its purpoſes, and every valuable intereſt of the country to fall into ruin and decay, without poſſibility of fixing any ſingle act on which a criminal proſecution can be juſtly grounded. The due arrangement of men in the active part of the ſtate, far from being foreign to the purpoſes of a wiſe government, ought to be among its very firſt and deareſt objects. When, therefore, the abettors of the new ſyſtem tell us, that between them and their oppoſers there is nothing but a ſtruggle for power, and that therefore we are no-ways concerned in it; we muſt tell thoſe who have the impudence to inſult us in this manner, that of all things we ought to be the moſt concerned, who and what ſort of men they are, that hold the truſt of every thing that is dear to us. Nothing can render this a point of indifference to the nation, but what muſt either render us totally deſperate, or ſoothe us into the ſecurity of idiots. We muſt ſoften into a credulity below the milkineſs of infancy, to think all men virtuous. We muſt be tainted with a malignity truly diabolical, to believe all the world to be equally wicked and corrupt. Men are in public life as in private, ſome good, ſome evil. The elevation of the one, and [196] the depreſſion of the other, are the firſt objects of all true policy. But that form of government, which, neither in its direct inſtitutions, nor in their immediate tendency, has contrived to throw its affairs into the moſt truſt-worthy hands, but has left its whole executory ſyſtem to be diſpoſed of agreeably to the uncontrouled pleaſure of any one man, however excellent or virtuous, is a plan of polity defective not only in that member, but conſequentially erroneous in every part of it.

IN arbitrary governments, the conſtitution of the miniſtry follows the conſtitution of the legiſlature. Both the law and the magiſtrate are the creatures of will. It muſt be ſo. Nothing, indeed, will appear more certain, on any tolerable conſideration of this matter, than that every ſort of government ought to have its adminiſtration correſpondent to its legiſlature. If it ſhould be otherwiſe, things muſt fall into an hideous diſorder. The people of a free commonwealth, who have taken ſuch care that their laws ſhould be the reſult of general conſent, cannot be ſo ſenſeleſs as to ſuffer their executory ſyſtem to be compoſed of perſons on whom they have no dependence, and whom no proofs of the public love and confidence have recommended to thoſe powers, upon the uſe of which the very being of the ſtate depends.

THE popular election of magiſtrates, and popular diſpoſition of rewards and honours, is one of the firſt advantages of a free ſtate. Without it, or ſomething equivalent to it, perhaps the people cannot long enjoy the ſubſtance of freedom; certainly none of the vivifying energy of good government. The frame of our commonwealth did not admit of ſuch an actual election: but it provided as well, and (while the ſpirit of the conſtitution is preſerved) better for all the effects of it than [197] by the method of ſuffrage in any democratic ſtate whatſoever. It had always, until of late, been held the firſt duty of parliament, to refuſe to ſupport government, until power was in the hands of perſons who were acceptable to the people, or while factions predominated in the court in which the nation had no confidence. Thus all the good effects of popular election were ſuppoſed to be ſecured to us, without the miſchiefs attending on perpetual intrigue, and a diſtinct canvaſs for every particular office throughout the body of the people. This was the moſt noble and refined part of our conſtitution. The people, by their repreſentatives and grandees, were intruſted with a deliberative power in making laws; the king with the controul of his negative. The king was intruſted with the deliberative choice and the election to office; the people had the negative in a parliamentary refuſal to ſupport. Formerly this power of controul was what kept miniſters in awe of parliaments, and parliaments in reverence with the people. If the uſe of this power of controul on the ſyſtem and perſons of adminiſtration is gone, every thing is loſt, parliament and all. We may aſſure ourſelves, that if parliament will tamely ſee evil men take poſſeſſion of all the ſtrong-holds of their country, and allow them time and means to fortify themſelves, under a pretence of giving them a fair trial, and upon a hope of diſcovering, whether they will not be reformed by power, and whether their meaſures will not be better than their morals; ſuch a parliament will give countenance to their meaſures alſo, whatever that parliament may pretend, and whatever thoſe meaſures may be.

EVERY good political inſtitution muſt have a preventive operation as well as a remedial. It ought to have a natural tendency to exclude bad men [198] from government, and not to truſt for the ſafety of the ſtate to ſubſequent puniſhment alone: puniſhment, which has ever been tardy and uncertain; and which, when power is ſuffered in bad hands, may chance to fall rather on the injured than the criminal.

BEFORE men are put forward into the great truſts of the ſtate, they ought by their conduct to have obtained ſuch a degree of eſtimation in their country, as may be ſome ſort of pledge and ſecurito the public, that they will not abuſe thoſe truſts. It is no mean ſecurity for a proper uſe of power, that a man has ſhewn by the general tenor of his actions, that the affection, the good opinion, the confidence, of his fellow citizens have been among the principal objects of his life; and that he has owed none of the gradations of his power or fortune to a ſettled contempt, or occaſional forfeiture of their eſteem.

THAT man who before he comes into power has no friends, or who coming into power is obliged to deſert his friends, or who loſing it has no friends to to ſympathize with him; he who has no ſway among any part of the landed or commercial intereſt, but whoſe whole importance has begun with his office, and is ſure to end with it; is a perſon who ought never to be ſuffered by a controuling parliament to continue in any of thoſe ſituations which confer the lead and direction of all our public affairs; becauſe ſuch a man has no connexion with the intereſt of the people.

THOSE knots or cabals of men who have got together, avowedly without any public principle, in order to ſell their conjunct iniquity at the higher rate, and are therefore univerſally odious, ought never to be ſuffered to domineer in the ſtate; becauſe [199] they have no connexion with the ſentiments and opinions of the people.

THESE are conſiderations which in my opinion enforce the neceſſity of having ſome better reaſon, in a free country, and a free parliament, for ſupporting the miniſters of the crown, than that ſhort one, That the King has thought proper to appoint them. There is ſomething very courtly in this. But it is a principle pregnant with all ſorts of miſchief, in a conſtitution like ours, to turn the views of active men from the country to the court. Whatever be the road to power, that is the road which will be trod. If the opinion of the country be of no uſe as a means of power or conſideration, the qualities which uſually procure that opinion will be no longer cultivated. And whether it will be right, in a ſtate ſo popular in its conſtitution as ours, to leave ambition without popular motives, and to truſt all to the operation of pure virtue in the minds of kings and miniſters, and public men, muſt be ſubmitted to the judgment and good ſenſe of the people of England.

CUNNING men are here apt to break in, and, without directly controverting the principle, to raiſe objections from the difficulty under which the ſovereign labours, to diſtinguiſh the genuine voice and ſentiments of his people, from the clamour of a faction, by which it is ſo eaſily counterfeited. The nation, they ſay, is generally divided into parties, with views and paſſions, utterly irreconcilable. If the king ſhould put his affairs into the hands of any one of them, he is ſure to diſguſt the reſt; if he ſelect particular men from among them all, it is an hazard that he diſguſts them all. Thoſe who are left out, however divided before, will ſoon run into a body of oppoſition; which, being a collection of many diſcontents into one focus, will without [200] doubt be hot and violent enough. Faction will make its cries reſound through the nation, as if the whole were in an uproar, when by far the majority, and much the better part, will ſeem for a while as it were annihilated by the quiet in which their virtue and moderation incline them to enjoy the bleſſings of government. Beſides that the opinion of the meer vulgar is a miſerable rule even with regard to themſelves, on account of their violence and inſtability. So that if you were to gratify them in their humour to-day, that very gratification would be a ground of their diſſatisfaction on the next. Now as all theſe rules of public opinion are to be collected with great difficulty, and to be applied with equal uncertainty as to the effect, what better can a king of England do, than to employ ſuch men as he finds to have views and inclinations moſt conformable to his own; who are at leaſt infected with pride and ſelf-will, and who are leaſt moved by ſuch popular humours as are perpetually traverſing his deſigns, and diſturbing his ſervice; truſting that, when he means no ill to his people, he will be ſupported in his appointments, whether he choſes to keep or to change, as his private judgment or his pleaſure leads him? He will find a ſure reſource in the real weight and influence of the crown, when it is not ſuffered to become an inſtrument in the hands of a faction.

I WILL not pretend to ſay that there is nothing at all in this mode of reaſoning; becauſe I will not aſſert, that there is no difficulty in the art of government. Undoubtedly the very beſt adminiſtration muſt encounter a great deal of oppoſition; and the very worſt will find more ſupport than it deſerves. Sufficient appearances will never be wanting to thoſe who have a mind to deceive themſelves. It is a fallacy in conſtant uſe with thoſe who would level [201] all things, and confound right with wrong, to inſiſt upon the inconveniencies which are attached to every choice, without taking into conſideration the different weight and conſequence of thoſe inconveniencies. The queſtion is not concerning abſolute diſcontent or perfect ſatisfaction in government; neither of which can be pure and unmixed at any time, or upon any ſyſtem. The controverſy is about that degree of good humour in the people, which may poſſibly be attained, and ought certainly to be looked for. While ſome politicians may be waiting to know whether the ſenſe of every individual be againſt them, accurately diſtinguiſhing the vulgar from the better ſort, drawing lines between the enterprizes of a faction and the efforts of a people, they may chance to ſee the government, which they are ſo nicely weighing, and dividing, and diſtinguiſhing, tumble to the ground in the midſt of their wiſe deliberation. Prudent men, when ſo great an object as the ſecurity of government, or even its peace, is at ſtake, will not run the riſk of a deciſion which may be fatal to it. They who can read the political ſky will ſee an hurricane in a cloud no bigger than an hand at the very edge of the horizon, and will run into the firſt harbour. No lines can be laid down for civil or political wiſdom. They are a matter incapable of exact definition. But, though no man can draw a ſtroke between the confines of day and night, yet light and darkneſs are upon the whole tolerably diſtinguiſhable. Nor will it be impoſſible for a prince to find out ſuch a mode of government, and ſuch perſons to adminiſter it, as will give a great degree of content to his people; without any curious and anxious reſearch for that abſtract, univerſal, perfect harmony, which while he is ſeeking, he abandons thoſe means of ordinary tranquillity which are in his power without any reſearch at all.

[202]IT is not more the duty than it is the intereſt of a prince, to aim at giving tranquillity to his government. But thoſe who adviſe him may have an intereſt in diſorder and confuſion. If the opinion of the people is againſt them, they will naturally wiſh that it ſhould have no prevalence. Here it is that the people muſt on their part ſhew themſelves ſenſible of their own value. Their whole importance, in the firſt inſtance, and afterwards their whole freedom, is at ſtake. Their freedom cannot long ſurvive their importance. Here it is that the natural ſtrength of the kingdom, the great peers, the leading landed gentlemen, the opulent merchants and manufacturers, the ſubſtantial yeomanry, muſt interpoſe, to reſcue their prince, themſelves, and their poſterity.

WE are at preſent at iſſue upon this point. We are in the great criſis of this contention; and the part which men take one way or other, will ſerve to diſcriminate their characters and their principles. Until the matter is decided, the country will remain in its preſent confuſion. For while a ſyſtem of adminiſtration is attempted, entirely repugnant to the genius of the people, and not conformable to the plan of their government, every thing muſt neceſſarily be diſordered for a time, until this ſyſtem deſtroys the conſtitution, or the conſtitution gets the the better of this ſyſtem.

THERE is, in my opinion, a peculiar venom and malignity in this political diſtemper beyond any that I have heard or read of. In former times the projectors of arbitrary government attacked only the liberties of their country; a deſign ſurely miſchievous enough to have ſatisfied a mind of the moſt unruly ambition. But a ſyſtem unfavourable to freedom may be ſo formed, as conſiderably to exalt the grandeur of the ſtate; and men may find [203] in the pride and ſplendor of that proſperity ſome ſort of conſolation for the loſs of their ſolid privileges. Indeed the increaſe of the power of the ſtate has often been urged by artful men, as a pretext for ſome abridgment of the public liberty. But the ſcheme of the junto under conſideration, not only ſtrikes a palſy into every nerve of our free conſtitution, but in the ſame degree benumbs and ſtupifies the whole executive power; rendering government in all its grand operations languid, uncertain, ineffective; making miniſters fearful of attempting, and incapable of executing, any uſeful plan of domeſtic arrangement, or of foreign politics. It tends to produce neither the ſecurity of a free government, nor the energy of a monarchy that is abſolute. Accordingly the crown has dwindled away, in proportion to the unnatural and turgid growth of this excreſcence on the court.

THE interior miniſtry are ſenſible, that war is a ſituation which ſets in its full light the value of the hearts of a people; and they well know, that the beginning of the importance of the people muſt be the end of theirs. For this reaſon they diſcover upon all occaſions the utmoſt fear of every thing, which by poſſibility may lead to ſuch an event. I do not mean that they manifeſt any of that pious fear which is backward to commit the ſafety of the country to the dubious experiment of war. Such a fear, being the tender ſenſation of virtue, excited, as it is regulated, by reaſon, frequently ſhews itſelf in a ſeaſonable boldneſs, which keeps danger at a diſtance, by ſeeming to deſpiſe it. Their fear betrays to the firſt glance of the eye, its true cauſe, and its real object. Foreign powers, confident in the knowledge of their character, have not ſcrupled to violate the moſt ſolemn treaties; and, in defiance [204] of them, to make conqueſts in the midſt of a general peace, and in the heart of Europe. Such was the conqueſt of Corſica, by the profeſſed enemies of the freedom of mankind, in defiance of thoſe who were formerly its profeſſed defenders. We have had juſt claims upon the ſame powers; rights which ought to have been ſacred to them as well as to us, as they had their origin in our lenity and generoſity towards France and Spain in the day of their great humiliation. Such I call the ranſom of Manilla, and the demand on France for the Eaſt India priſoners. But theſe powers put a juſt confidence in their reſource of the double cabinet. Theſe demands (one of them at leaſt) are haſtening faſt towards an acquittal by preſcription. Oblivion begins to ſpread her cobwebs over all our ſpirited remonſtrances. Some of the moſt valuable branches of our trade are alſo on the point of periſhing from the ſame cauſe. I do not mean thoſe branches which bear without the hand of the vine-dreſſer; I mean thoſe which the policy of treaties had formerly ſecured to us; I mean to mark and diſtinguiſh the trade of Portugal, the loſs of which, and the power of the cabal, have one and the ſame aera.

IF, by any chance, the miniſters who ſtand before the curtain poſſeſs or affect any ſpirit, it makes little or no impreſſion. Foreign courts and miniſters, who were among the firſt to diſcover and to profit by this invention of the double cabinet, attend very little to their remonſtrances. They know that thoſe ſhadows of miniſters have nothing to do in the ultimate diſpoſal of things. Jealouſies and animoſities are ſedulouſly nouriſhed in the outward adminiſtration, and have been even conſidered as a cauſa ſine qua non in its conſtitution: thence foreign courts have a certainty, that nothing can be done by common counſel in this nation. If one of thoſe [205] miniſters officially takes up a buſineſs with ſpirit, it ſerves only the better to ſignalize the meanneſs of the reſt, and the diſcord of them all. His collegues in office are in haſte to ſhake them off, and to diſclaim the whole of his proceedings. Of this nature was that aſtoniſhing tranſaction, in which lord Rochford, our ambaſſador at Paris, remonſtrated againſt the attempt upon Corſica, in conſequence of a direct authority from lord Shelburne. This remonſtrance the French miniſter treated with the contempt that was natural; as he was aſſured, from the ambaſſador of his court to ours, that theſe orders of lord Shelburne were not ſupported by the reſt of the (I had like to have ſaid Britiſh) adminiſtration. Lord Rochford, a man of ſpirit, could not endure this ſituation. The conſequences were, however, curious. He returns from Paris, and comes home full of anger. Lord Shelburne, who gave the orders, is obliged to give up the ſeals. Lord Rochford, who obeyed theſe orders, receives them. He goes, however, into another department of the ſame office, that he might not be obliged officially to acquieſce in one ſituation under what he had officially remonſtrated againſt in another. At Paris, the duke of Choiſeul conſidered this office arrangement as a compliment to him: here it was ſpoke of as an attention to the delicacy of lord Rochford. But whether the compliment was to one or both, to this nation it was the ſame. By this tranſaction the condition of our court lay expoſed in all its nakedneſs. Our office correſpondence has loſt all pretence to authenticity; Britiſh policy is brought into deriſion in thoſe nations, that a while ago trembled at the power of our arms, whilſt they looked up with confidence to the equity, firmneſs, and candour, which ſhone in all our negociations. I repreſent this matter exactly [206] in the light in which it has been univerſally received.

SUCH has been the aſpect of our foreign politics, under the influence of a double cabinet. With ſuch an arrangement at court, it is impoſſible it ſhould have been otherwiſe. Nor is it poſſible that this ſcheme ſhould have a better effect upon the government of our dependencies, the firſt, the deareſt, and moſt delicate objects, of the interior policy of this empire. The colonies know, that adminiſtration is ſeparated from the court, divided within itſelf, and deteſted by the nation. The double cabinet has, in both the parts of it, ſhewn the moſt malignant diſpoſitions towards them, without being able to do them the ſmalleſt miſchief.

THEY are convinced, by ſufficient experience, that no plan, either of lenity or rigour, can be purſued with uniformity and perſeverance. Therefore they turn their eyes entirely from Great Britain, where they have neither dependence on friendſhip, nor apprehenſion from enmity. They look to themſelves, and their own arrangements. They grow every day into alienation from this country; and whilſt they are becoming diſconnected with our government, we have not the conſolation to find, that they are even friendly in their new independence. Nothing can equal the futility, the weakneſs, the raſhneſs, the timidity, the perpetual contradiction, in the management of our affairs in that part of the world. A volume might be written on this melancholy ſubject; but it were better to leave it entirely to the reflexions of the reader himſelf than not to treat it in the extent it deſerves.

IN what manner our domeſtic oeconomy is affected by this ſyſtem, it is needleſs to explain. It is the perpetual ſubject of their own complaints.

[207]THE court party reſolve the whole into faction. Having ſaid ſomething before upon this ſubject, I ſhall only obſerve here, that when they give this account of the prevalence of faction, they preſent no very favourable aſpect of the confidence of the people in their own government. They may be aſſured, that however they amuſe themſelves with a variety of projects for ſubſtituting ſomething elſe in the place of that great and only foundation of government, the confidence of the people, every attempt will but make their condition worſe. When men imagine that their food is only a cover for poiſon, and when they neither love nor truſt the hand that ſerves it, it is not the name of the roaſt beef of old England, that will perſuade them to ſit down to the table that is ſpread for them. When the people conceive that laws, and tribunals, and even even popular aſſemblies, are perverted from the ends of their inſtitution, they find in thoſe names of degenerated eſtabliſhments only new motives to diſcontent. Thoſe bodies, which, when full of life and beauty, lay in their arms, and were their joy and comfort, when dead and putrid, become but the more loathſome from remembrance of former endearments. A ſullen gloom, and furious diſorder, prevail by fits; the nation loſes its reliſh for peace and proſperity, as it did in that ſeaſon of fulneſs which opened our troubles in the time of Charles the firſt. A ſpecies of men to whom a ſtate of order would become a ſentence of obſcurity, are nouriſhed into a dangerous magnitude by the heat of inteſtine diſturbances; and it is no wonder that, by a ſort of ſiniſter piety, they cheriſh, in their turn, the diſorders which are the parents of all their conſequence. Superficial obſervers conſider ſuch perſons as the cauſe of the public uneaſineſs, when, in truth, they are nothing more than the effect of it. Good men look upon this diſtracted ſcene [208] with ſorrow and indignation. Their hands are tied behind them. They are deſpoiled of all the power which might enable them to reconcile the ſtrength of government with the rights of the people. They ſtand in a moſt diſtreſſing alternative. But in the election among evils they hope better things from temporary confuſion, than from eſtabliſhed ſervitude. In the mean time, the voice of law is not to be heard. Fierce licentiouſneſs begets violent reſtraints. The military arm is the ſole reliance; and then, call your conſtitution what you pleaſe, it is the ſword that governs. The civil power, like every other that calls in the aid of an ally ſtronger than itſelf, periſhes by the aſſiſtance it receives. But the contrivers of this ſcheme of government will not truſt ſolely to the military power; becauſe they are cunning men. Their reſtleſs and crooked ſpirit drives them to rake in the dirt of every kind of expedient. Unable to rule the multitude, they endeavour to raiſe diviſions amongſt them. One mob is hired to deſtroy another; a procedure which at once encourages the boldneſs of the populace, and juſtly increaſes their diſcontent. Men become penſioners of ſtate on account of their abilities in the array of riot, and the diſcipline of confuſion. Government is put under the diſgraceful neceſſity of protecting from the ſeverity of the laws that very licentiouſneſs, which the laws had been before violated to repreſs. Every thing partakes of the original diſorder. Anarchy predominates without freedom, and ſervitude without ſubmiſſion or ſubordination. Theſe are the conſequences inevitable to our public peace, from the ſcheme of rendering the executory government at once odious and feeble; of freeing adminiſtration from the conſtitutional and ſalutary controul of parliament, and inventing for it a new controul, unknown to the conſtitution, an interior cabinet; which brings the [209] whole body of government into confuſion and contempt.

AFTER having ſtated, as ſhortly as I am able, the effects of this ſyſtem on our foreign affairs, on the policy of our government with regard to our dependencies, and on the interior oeconomy of the commonwealth; there remains only, in this part of my deſign, to ſay ſomething of the grand principle which firſt recommended this ſyſtem at court. The pretence was, to prevent the king from being enſlaved by a faction, and made a priſoner in his cloſet. This ſcheme might have been expected to anſwer at leaſt its own end, and to indemnify the king, in his perſonal capacity, for all the confuſion into which it has thrown his government. But has it in reality anſwered this purpoſe? I am ſure, if it had, every affectionate ſubject would have one motive for enduring with patience all the evils which attend it.

IN order to come at the truth in this matter, it may not be amiſs to conſider it ſomewhat in detail. I ſpeak here of the king, and not of the crown; the intereſts of which we have already touched. Independent of that greatneſs which a king poſſeſſes merely by being a repreſentative of the national dignity, the things in which he may have an individual intereſt ſeem to be theſe: wealth accumulated; wealth ſpent in magnificence, pleaſure, or beneficence; perſonal reſpect and attention; and above all, private eaſe and repoſe of mind. Theſe compoſe the inventory of proſperous circumſtances, whether they regard a prince or a ſubject; their enjoyments differing only in the ſcale upon which they are formed.

SUPPOSE then we were to aſk, whether the king has been richer than his predeceſſors in accumulated [210] wealth, ſince the eſtabliſhment of the plan of favouritiſm? I believe it will be found that the picture of royal indigence which our court has preſented until this year, has been truly humiliating. Nor has it been relieved from this unſeemly diſtreſs, but by means which have hazarded the affection of the people, and ſhaken their confidence in parliament. If the public treaſures had been exhauſted in magnificence and ſplendour, this diſtreſs would have been accounted for, and in ſome meaſure juſtified. Nothing would be more unworthy of this nation, than with a mean and mechanical rule, to mete out the ſplendour of the crown. Indeed I have found very few perſons diſpoſed to ſo ungenerous a procedure. But the generality of people, it muſt be confeſſed, do feel a good deal mortified, when they compare the wants of the court with its expences. They do not behold the cauſe of this diſtreſs in any part of the apparatus of royal magnificence. In all this, they ſee nothing but the operations of parſimony, attended with all the conſequences of profuſion. Nothing expended, nothing ſaved. Their wonder is increaſed by their knowledge, that beſides the revenue ſettled on his majeſty's civil liſt to the amount of 800,000 l. a year, he has a farther aid, from a large penſion liſt, near 90,000 l. a year, in Ireland; from the produce of the dutchy of Lancaſter (which we are told has been greatly improved); from the revenue of the dutchy of Cornwall; from the American quit-rents; from the four and a half per cent. duty in the Leeward Iſlands; this laſt worth to be ſure conſiderably more than 40,000 l. a year. The whole is certainly not much ſhort of a million annually.

THESE are revenues within the knowledge and cognizance of our national councils. We have no direct right to examine into the receipts from his [211] majeſty's German dominions, and the biſhopric of Oſnabrug. This is unqueſtionably true. But that which is not within the province of parliament, is yet within the ſphere of every man's own reflection. If a foreign prince reſided amongſt us, the ſtate of his revenues could not fail of becoming the ſubject of our ſpeculation. Filled with an anxious concern for whatever regards the welfare of our ſovereign, it is impoſſible, in conſidering the miſerable circumſtances into which he has been brought, that this obvious topic ſhould be entirely paſſed over. There is an opinion univerſal, that theſe revenues produce ſomething not inconſiderable, clear of all charges and eſtabliſhments. This produce the people do not believe to be hoarded, nor perceive to be ſpent. It is accounted for in the only manner it can, by ſuppoſing that it is drawn away, for the ſupport of that court faction, which, whilſt it diſtreſſes the nation, impoveriſhes the prince in every one of his reſources. I once more caution the reader, that I do not urge this conſideration concerning the foreign revenue, as if I ſuppoſed we had a direct right to examine into the expenditure of any part of it; but ſolely for the purpoſe of ſhewing how little this ſyſtem of favouritiſm has been advantageous to the monarch himſelf; which, without magnificence, has ſunk him into a ſtate of unnatural poverty; at the ſame time that he poſſeſſed every means of affluence, from ample revenues, both in this country, and in other parts of his dominions.

HAS this ſyſtem provided better for the treatment becoming his high and ſacred character, and ſecured the king from thoſe diſguſts attached to the neceſſity of employing men who are not perſonally agreeable? This is a topic upon which for many reaſons I could wiſh to be ſilent; but the pretence of ſecuring againſt ſuch cauſes of uneaſineſs, is the [212] corner-ſtone of the court party. It has however ſo happened, that if I were to fix upon any one point, in which this ſyſtem has been more particularly and ſhamefully blameable, the effects which it has produced would juſtify me in chooſing for that point its tendency to degrade the perſonal dignity of the ſovereign, and to expoſe him to a thouſand contradictions and mortifications. It is but too evident in what manner theſe projectors of royal greatneſs have fulfilled all their magnificent promiſes. Without recapitulating all the circumſtances of the reign, every one of which is more or leſs a melancholy proof of the truth of what I have advanced, let us conſider the language of the court but a few years ago, concerning moſt of the perſons now in the external adminiſtration: let me aſk, whether any enemy to the perſonal feelings of the ſovereign, could poſſibly contrive a keener inſtrument of mortification, and degradation of all dignity, than almoſt every part and member of the preſent arrangement? nor, in the whole courſe of our hiſtory, has any compliance with the will of the people ever been known to extort from any prince a greater contradiction to all his own declared affections and diſlikes than that which is now adopted, in direct oppoſition to every thing the people approve and deſire.

AN opinion prevails, that greatneſs has been more than once adviſed to ſubmit to certain condeſcenſions towards individuals, which have been denied to the entreaties of a nation. For the meaneſt and moſt dependent inſtrument of this ſyſtem knows, that there are hours when its exiſtence may depend upon his adherence to it; and he takes his advantage accordingly. Indeed it is a law of nature, that whoever is neceſſary to what we have made our object, is ſure in ſome way, or in ſome [213] time or other, to become our maſter. All this however is ſubmitted to, in order to avoid that monſtrous evil of governing in concurrence with the opinion of the people. For it ſeems to be laid down as a maxim, that a king has ſome ſort of intereſt in giving uneaſineſs to his ſubjects: that all who are pleaſing to them, are to be of courſe diſagreeable to him: that as ſoon as the perſons who are odious at court are known to be odious to the people, it is ſnatched at as a lucky occaſion of ſhowering down upon them all kinds of emoluments and honours. None are conſidered as well-wiſhers to the crown, but thoſe who adviſe to ſome unpopular courſe of action; none capable of ſerving it, but thoſe who are obliged to call at every inſtant upon all its power for the ſafety of their lives. None are ſuppoſed to be fit prieſts in the temple of government, but the perſons who are compelled to fly into it for ſanctuary. Such is the effect of this refined project; ſuch is ever the reſult of all the contrivances which are uſed to free men from the ſervitude of their reaſon, and from the neceſſity of ordering their affairs according to their evident intereſts. Theſe contrivances oblige them to run into a real and ruinous ſervitude, in order to avoid a ſuppoſed reſtraint that might be attended with advantage.

IF therefore this ſyſtem has ſo ill anſwered its own grand pretence of ſaving the king from the neceſſity of employing perſons diſagreeable to him, has it given more peace and tranquillity to his majeſty's private hours? No, moſt certainly. The father of his people cannot poſſibly enjoy repoſe, while his family is in ſuch a ſtate of diſtraction. Then what has the crown or the king profited by all this fine-wrought ſcheme? Is he more rich, or more ſplendid, or more powerful, or more at his eaſe, by ſo many labours and contrivances? Have [214] they not beggared his Exchequer, tarniſhed the ſplendour of his court, ſunk his dignity, galled his feelings, diſcompoſed the whole order and happineſs of his private life?

IT will be very hard, I believe, to ſtate in what reſpect the king has profited by that faction which preſumptuouſly chooſe to call themſelves his friends.

IF particular men had grown into an attachment, by the diſtinguiſhed honour of the ſociety of their ſovereign; and, by being the partakers of his amuſements, came ſometimes to prefer the gratification of his perſonal inclinations to the ſupport of his high character, the thing would be very natural, and it would be excuſable enough. But the pleaſant part of the ſtory is, that theſe King's friends have no more ground for uſurping ſuch a title, than a reſident freeholder in Cumberland or in Cornwall. They are only known to their ſovereign by kiſſing his hand, for the offices, penſions, and grants, into which they have deceived his benignity. May no ſtorm ever come, which will put the firmneſs of their attachment to the proof; and which, in the midſt of confuſions, and terrors, and ſufferings, may demonſtrate the eternal difference between a true and ſevere friend to the monarchy, and a ſlippery ſycophant of the court! Quantum infido ſcurrae diſtabit amicus.

SO far I have conſidered the effect of the court ſyſtem, chiefly as it operates upon the executive government, on the temper of the people, and on the happineſs of the ſovereign. It remains, that we ſhould conſider, with a little attention, its operation upon parliament.

PARLIAMENT was indeed the great object of all theſe politics, the end at which they aimed, as well as the inſtrument by which they were to operate. [215] But, before parliament could be made ſubſervient to a ſyſtem, by which it was to be degraded from the dignity of a national council, into a mere member of the court, it muſt be greatly changed from its original character.

IN ſpeaking of this body, I have my eye chiefly on the houſe of commons. I hope I ſhall be indulged in a few obſervations on the nature and character of that aſſembly; not with regard to its legal form and power, but to its ſpirit, and to the purpoſes it is meant to anſwer in the conſtitution.

THE houſe of commons was ſuppoſed originally to be no part of the ſtanding government of this country. It was conſidered as a controul, iſſuing immediately from the people, and ſpeedily to be reſolved into the maſs from whence it aroſe. In this reſpect it was in the higher part of government what juries are in the lower. The capacity of a magiſtrate being tranſitory, and that of a citizen permanent, the latter capacity it was hoped would of courſe preponderate in all diſcuſſions, not only between the people and the ſtanding authority of the crown, but between the people and the fleeting authority of the houſe of commons itſelf. It was hoped that, being of a middle nature between ſubject and government, they would feel with a more tender and a nearer intereſt every thing that concerned the people, than the other remoter and more permanent parts of legiſlature.

WHATEVER alterations time and the neceſſary accommodation of buſineſs may have introduced, this character can never be ſuſtained, unleſs the houſe of commons ſhall be made to bear ſome ſtamp of the actual diſpoſition of the people at large. It would (among public misfortunes) be an evil more natural and tolerable, that the houſe [216] of commons ſhould be infected with every epidemical phrenſy of the people, as this would indicate ſome conſanguinity, ſome ſympathy of nature with their conſtituents, than that they ſhould in all caſes be wholly untouched by the opinions and feelings of the people out of doors. By this want of ſympathy they would ceaſe to be an houſe of commons. For it is not the derivation of the power of that houſe from the people, which makes it in a diſtinct ſenſe their repreſentative. The king is the repreſentative of the people; ſo are the lords; ſo are the judges. They all are truſtees for the people, as well as the commons; becauſe no power is given for the ſole ſake of the holder; and although government certainly is an inſtitution of divine authority, yet its forms, and the perſons who adminiſter it, all originate from the people.

A POPULAR origin cannot therefore be the characteriſtical diſtinction of a popular repreſentative. This belongs equally to all parts of government, and in all forms. The virtue, ſpirit, and eſſence of a houſe of commons conſiſts in its being the expreſs image of the feelings of the nation. It was not inſtituted to be a controul upon the people, as of late it has been taught, by a doctrine of the moſt pernicious tendency. It was deſigned as a controul for the people. Other inſtitutions have been formed for the purpoſe of checking popular exceſſes; and they are, I apprehend, fully adequate to their object. If not, they ought to be made ſo. The houſe of commons, as it was never intended for the ſupport of peace and ſubordination, is miſerably appointed for that ſervice; having no ſtronger weapon than its mace, and no better officer than its ſerjeant at arms, which it can command of its own proper authority. A vigilant and jealous eye over executory and judicial magiſtracy; [217] an anxious care of public money, an openneſs, approaching towards facility, to public complaint: theſe ſeem to be the true characteriſtics of an houſe of commons. But an addreſſing houſe of commons, and a petitioning nation; an houſe of commons full of confidence, when the nation is plunged in deſpair; in the utmoſt harmony with miniſters, whom the people regard with the utmoſt abhorrence; who vote thanks, when the public opinion calls upon them for impeachments; who are eager to grant, when the general voice demands account; who, in all diſputes between the people and adminiſtration, preſume againſt the people; who puniſh their diſorders, but refuſe even to enquire into the provocations to them; this is an unnatural, a monſtrous ſtate of things in this conſtitution. Such an aſſembly may be a great, wiſe, aweful ſenate; but it is not to any popular purpoſe an houſe of commons. This change from an immediate ſtate of procuration and delegation to a courſe of acting as from original power, is the way in which all the popular magiſtracies in the world have been perverted from their purpoſes. It is indeed their greateſt and ſometimes their incurable corruption. For there is a material diſtinction between that corruption by which particular points are carried againſt reaſon, (this is a thing which cannot be prevented by human wiſdom, and is of leſs conſequence) and the corruption of the principle itſelf. For then the evil is not accidental, but ſettled. The diſtemper becomes the natural habit.

FOR my part, I ſhall be compelled to conclude the principle of parliament to be totally corrupted, and therefore its ends entirely defeated, when I ſee two ſymptoms: firſt, a rule of indiſcriminate ſupport to all miniſters; becauſe this deſtroys the [218] very end of parliament as a controul, and is a general previous ſanction to miſgovernment: and ſecondly, the ſetting up any claims adverſe to the right of free election; for this tends to ſubvert the legal authority by which the houſe of commons ſits.

I KNOW that, ſince the Revolution, along with many dangerous, many uſeful powers of government have been weakened. It is abſolutely neceſſary to have frequent recourſe to the legiſlature. Parliaments muſt therefore ſit every year, and for great part of the year. The dreadful diſorders of frequent elections have alſo neceſſitated a ſeptennial inſtead of a triennial duration. Theſe circumſtances, I mean the conſtant habit of authority, and the unfrequency of elections, have tended very much to draw the houſe of commons towards the character of a ſtanding ſenate. It is a diſorder which has ariſen from the cure of greater diſorders; it has ariſen from the extreme difficulty of reconciling liberty under a monarchical government, with external ſtrength and with internal tranquillity.

IT is very clear that we cannot free ourſelves entirely from this great inconvenience; but I would not increaſe an evil, becauſe I was not able to remove it; and becauſe it was not in my power to keep the houſe of commons religiouſly true to its firſt principles, I would not argue for carrying it to a total oblivion of them. This has been the great ſcheme of power in our time. They who will not conform their conduct to the public good, and cannot ſupport it by the prerogative of the crown, have adopted a new plan. They have totally abandoned the ſhattered and old-faſhioned fortreſs of prerogative, and made a lodgement in the ſtrong-hold of parliament itſelf. If they have [219] any evil deſign to which there is no ordinary legal power commenſurate, they bring it into parliament. In parliament the whole is executed from the beginning to the end. In parliament the power of obtaining their object is abſolute; and the ſafety in the proceeding perfect; no rules to confine, no after reckonings to terrify. Parliament cannot with any great propriety puniſh others, for things in which they themſelves have been accomplices. Thus the controul of parliament upon the executory power is loſt; becauſe parliament is made to partake in every conſiderable act of government. Impeachment, that great guardian of the purity of the conſtitution, is in danger of being loſt, even to the idea of it.

BY this plan ſeveral important ends are anſwered to the cabal. If the authority of parliament ſupports itſelf, the credit of every act of government which they contrive, is ſaved; but if the act be ſo very odious that the whole ſtrength of parliament is inſufficient to recommend it, then parliament is itſelf diſcredited; and this diſcredit increaſes more and more that indifference to the conſtitution, which it is the conſtant aim of its enemies, by their abuſe of parliamentary powers, to render general among the people. Whenever parliament is perſuaded to aſſume the offices of executive government, it will loſe all the confidence, love, and veneration, which it has ever enjoyed whilſt it was ſuppoſed the corrective and controul of the acting powers of the ſtate. This would be the event, though its conduct in ſuch a perverſion of its functions ſhould be tolerably juſt and moderate; but if it ſhould be iniquitous, violent, full of paſſion, and full of faction, it would be conſidered as the moſt intolerable of all the modes of tyranny.

[220]FOR a conſiderable time this ſeparation of the repreſentatives from their conſtituents went on with a ſilent progreſs; and had thoſe, who conducted the plan for their total ſeparation, been perſons of temper and abilities any way equal to the magnitude of their deſign, the ſucceſs would have been infallible: but by their precipitancy they have laid it open in all its nakedneſs; the nation is alarmed at it; and the event may not be pleaſant to the contrivers of the ſcheme. In the laſt ſeſſion, the corps called the king's friends made an hardy attempt all at once, to alter the right of election itſelf; to put it into the power of the houſe of commons to diſable any perſon diſagreeable to them from ſitting in parliament, without any other rule than their own pleaſure; to make incapacities, either general for deſcriptions of men, or particular for individuals; and to take into their body, perſons who avowedly had never been choſen by the majority of legal electors, nor agreeably to any known rule of law.

THE arguments upon which this claim was founded and combated, are not my buſineſs here. Never has a ſubject been more amply and more learnedly handled, nor upon one ſide in my opinion more ſatisfactorily; they who are not convinced by what is already written would not receive conviction though one aroſe from the dead.

I TOO have thought on this ſubject: but my purpoſe here, is only to conſider it as a part of the favourite project of government; to obſerve on the motives which led to it; and to trace its political conſequences.

A VIOLENT rage for the puniſhment of Mr. Wilkes was the pretence of the whole. This gentleman, by ſetting himſelf ſtrongly in oppoſition [221] to the court cabal, had become at once an object of their perſecution, and of the popular favour. The hatred of the court party purſuing, and the countenance of the people protecting him, it very ſoon became not at all a queſtion on the man, but a trial of ſtrength between the two parties. The advantage of the victory in this particular conteſt was the preſent, but not the only, nor by any means the principal, object. Its operation upon the character of the houſe of commons was the great point in view. The point to be gained by the cabal was this; that a precedent ſhould be eſtabliſhed, tending to ſhew, That the favour of the people was not ſo ſure a road as the favour of the court even to popular honours and popular truſts. A ſtrenuous reſiſtance to every appearance of lawleſs power: a ſpirit of independence carried to ſome degree of enthuſiaſm; an inquiſitive character to diſcover, and a bold one to diſplay, every corruption and every error of government; theſe are the qualities which recommend a man to a ſeat in the houſe of commons, in open and merely popular elections. An indolent and ſubmiſſive diſpoſition; a diſpoſition to think charitably of all the actions of men in power, and to live in a mutual intercourſe of favours with them; an inclination rather to countenance a ſtrong uſe of authority, than to bear any ſort of licentiouſneſs on the part of the people; theſe are unfavourable qualities in an open election for members of parliament.

THE inſtinct which carries the people towards the choice of the former, is juſtified by reaſon; becauſe a man of ſuch a character, even in its exorbitancies, does not directly contradict the purpoſes of a truſt, the end of which is a controul on power. The latter character, even when it is not in its extreme, will execute this truſt but very [222] imperfectly; and, if deviating to the leaſt exceſs, will certainly fruſtrate inſtead of forwarding the purpoſes of a controul on government. But when the houſe of commons was to be new modelled, this principle was not only to be changed, but reverſed. Whilſt any errors committed in ſupport of power were left to the law, with every advantage of favourable conſtruction, or mitigation, and finally of pardon; all exceſſes on the ſide of liberty, or in purſuit of popular favour, or in defence of popular rights and privileges, were not only to be puniſhed by the rigour of the known law, but by a diſcretionary proceeding which brought on the loſs of the popular object itſelf. Popularity was to be rendered, if not directly penal, at leaſt highly dangerous. The favour of the people might lead even to a diſqualification of repreſenting them. Their odium might become, ſtrained through the medium of two or three conſtructions, the means of ſitting as the truſtee of all that was dear to them. This is puniſhing the offence in the offending part. Until this time, the opinion of the people, through the power of an aſſembly, ſtill in ſome ſort popular, led to the greateſt honours and emoluments in the gift of the crown. Now the principle is reverſed; and the favour of the court is the only ſure way of obtaining and holding thoſe honours which ought to be in the diſpoſal of the people.

IT ſignifies very little how this matter may be quibbled away. Example, the only argument of effect in civil life, demonſtrates the truth of my propoſition. Nothing can alter my opinion concerning the pernicious tendency of this example, until I ſee ſome man for his indiſcretion in the ſupport of power, for his violent and intemperate ſervility, rendered incapable of ſitting in parliament. [223] For as it now ſtands, the fault of overſtraining popular qualities, and, irregularly if you pleaſe, aſſerting popular privileges, has led to diſqualification; the oppoſite fault never has produced the ſlighteſt puniſhment. Reſiſtance to power, has ſhut the door of the Houſe of Commons to one man; obſequiouſneſs and ſervility, to none.

NOT that I would encourage popular diſorder, or any diſorder. But I would leave ſuch offences to the law, to be puniſhed in meaſure and proportion. The laws of this country are for the moſt part conſtituted, and wiſely ſo, for the general ends of government, rather than for the preſervation of our particular liberties. Whatever therefore is done in ſupport of liberty, by perſons not in public truſt, or not acting merely in that truſt, is liable to be more or leſs out of the ordinary courſe of the law; and the law itſelf is ſufficient to animadvert upon it with great ſeverity. Nothing indeed can hinder that ſevere letter from cruſhing us, except the temperaments it may receive from a trial by jury. But if the habit prevails of going beyond the law, and ſuperſeding this judicature, of carrying offences, real or ſuppoſed, into the legiſlative bodies, who ſhall eſtabliſh themſelves into courts of criminal equity (ſo the Star Chamber has been called by lord Bacon), all the evils of the Star Chamber are revived. A large and liberal conſtruction in aſcertaining offences, and a diſcretionary power in puniſhing them, is the idea of criminal equity; which is in truth a monſter in juriſprudence. It ſignifies nothing whether a court for this purpoſe be a committee of council, or an houſe of commons, or an houſe of lords; the liberty of the ſubject will be equally ſubverted by it. The true end and purpoſe of that houſe of parliament which entertains ſuch a juriſdiction will be deſtroyed by it.

[224]I WILL not believe, what no other man living believes, that Mr. Wilkes was puniſhed for the indecency of his publications, or the impiety of his ranſacked cloſet. If he had fallen in a common ſlaughter of libellers and blaſphemers, I could well believe that nothing more was meant than was pretended. But when I ſee that, for years together, full as impious, and perhaps more dangerous writings to religion and virtue and order, have not been puniſhed, nor their authors diſcountenanced; that the moſt audacious libels on royal majeſty have paſſed without notice; that the moſt treaſonable invectives againſt the laws, liberties, and conſtitution of the country, have not met with the ſlighteſt animadverſion; I muſt conſider this as a ſhocking and ſhameleſs pretence. Never did an envenomed ſcurrility againſt every thing ſacred and civil, public and private, rage through the kingdom with ſuch a furious and unbridled licence. All this while the peace of the nation muſt be ſhaken, to ruin one libeller, and to tear from the populace a ſingle favourite.

NOR is it that vice merely ſkulks in an obſcure and contemptible impunity. Does not the public behold with indignation, perſons not only generally ſcandalous in their lives, but the identical perſons who, by their ſociety, their inſtruction, their example, their encouragement, have drawn this man into the very faults which have furniſhed the cabal with a pretence for his perſecution, loaded with every kind of favour, honour, and diſtinction, which a court can beſtow? Add but the crime of ſervility (the foedum crimen ſervitutis) to every other crime, and the whole maſs is immediately tranſmuted into virtue, and becomes the juſt ſubject of reward and honour. When therefore I reflect upon this method purſued by the cabal in diſtributing [225] rewards and puniſhments, I muſt conclude that Mr. Wilkes is the object of perſecution, not on account of what he has done in common with others who are the objects of reward, but for that in which he differs from many of them: that he is purſued for the ſpirited diſpoſitions which are blended with his vices; for his unconquerable firmneſs, for his reſolute, indefatigable, ſtrenuous reſiſtance againſt oppreſſion.

IN this caſe, therefore, it was not the man that was to be puniſhed, nor his faults that were to be diſcountenanced. Oppoſition to acts of power was to be marked by a kind of civil proſcription. The popularity which ſhould ariſe from ſuch an oppoſition was to be ſhewn unable to protect it. The qualities by which court is made to the people, were to render every fault inexpiable, and every error irretrievable. The qualities by which court is made to power, were to cover and to ſanctify every thing. He that will have a ſure and honourable ſeat in the houſe of commons, muſt take care how he adventures to cultivate popular qualities; otherwiſe he may remember the old maxim, Breves et infauſtos populi Romani amores. If, therefore, a purſuit of popularity expoſe a man to greater dangers than a diſpoſition to ſervility, the principle which is the life and ſoul of popular elections will periſh out of the conſtitution.

IT behoves the people of England to conſider how the houſe of commons under the operation of theſe examples muſt of neceſſity be conſtituted. On the ſide of the court will be, all honours; offices, emoluments; every ſort of perſonal gratification to avarice or vanity; and, what is of more moment to moſt gentlemen, the means of growing, by innumerable petty ſervices to individuals, into a ſpreading intereſt in their country. [226] On the other hand, let us ſuppoſe a perſon unconnected with the court, and in oppoſition to its ſyſtem. For his own perſon, no office, or emolument, or title; no promotion, eccleſiaſtical, or civil, or military, or naval, for children, or brothers, or kindred. In vain an expiring intereſt in a borough calls for offices, or ſmall livings, for the children of mayors, and aldermen, and capital burgeſſes. His court rival has them all. He can do an infinite number of acts of generoſity and kindneſs, and even of public ſpirit. He can procure indemnity from quarters. He can procure advantages in trade. He can get pardons for offences. He can obtain a thouſand favours, and avert a thouſand evils. He may, while he betrays every valuable intereſt of the kingdom, be a benefactor, a patron, a father, a guardian angel, to his borough. The unfortunate independent member has nothing to offer but harſh refuſal, or pitiful excuſe, or deſpondent repreſentation of an hopeleſs intereſt. Except from his private fortune, in which he may be equalled, perhaps exceeded, by his court competitor, he has no way of ſhewing any one good quality, or of making a ſingle friend. In the houſe, he votes for ever in a diſpirited minority. If he ſpeaks, the doors are locked. A body of loquacious place-men go out to tell the world, that all he aims at, is to get into office. If he has not the talent of elocution, which is the caſe of many as wiſe and knowing men as any in the houſe, he is liable to all theſe inconveniencies, without the eclat which attends upon any tolerably ſucceſsful exertion of eloquence. Can we receive a more diſcouraging poſt of duty than this? Strip it of the poor reward of popularity; ſuffer even the exceſſes committed in defence of the popular intereſt, to become a ground for the majority of that houſe to form a diſqualification out of the line of the law, and at [227] their pleaſure, attended not only with the loſs of the franchiſe, but with every kind of perſonal diſgrace.—If this ſhall happen, the people of this kingdom may be aſſured that they cannot be firmly or faithfully ſerved by any man. It is out of the nature of men and things that they ſhould; and their preſumption will be equal to their folly, if they expect it. The power of the people, within the laws, muſt ſhew itſelf ſufficient to protect every repreſentative in the animated performance of his duty, or that duty cannot be performed. The houſe of commons can never be a controul on other parts of government unleſs they are controuled themſelves by their conſtituents; and unleſs theſe conſtituents poſſeſs ſome right in the choice of that houſe, which it is not in the power of that houſe to take away. If they ſuffer this power of arbitrary incapacitation to ſtand, they have utterly perverted every other power of the houſe of commons. The late proceeding, I will not ſay, is contrary to law; it muſt be ſo; for the power which is claimed cannot, by any poſſibility, be a legal power in any limited member of government.

THE power which they claim, of declaring incapacities, would not be above the juſt claims of a final judicature, if they had not laid it down as a leading principle, that they had no rule in the exerciſe of this claim, but their own diſcretion. Not one of their abettors has ever undertaken to aſſign the principle of unfitneſs, the ſpecies or degree of delinquency, on which the houſe of commons will expel, nor the mode of proceeding upon it, nor the evidence upon which it is eſtabliſhed. The direct conſequence of which is, that the firſt franchiſe of an Engliſhman, and that on which all the reſt vitally depend, is to be forfeited for ſome [228] offence which no man knows, and which is to be proved by no known rule whatſoever of legal evidence. This is ſo anomalous to our whole conſtitution, that I will venture to ſay, the moſt trivial right which the ſubject claims, never was, nor can be, forfeited in ſuch a manner.

THE whole of their uſurpation is eſtabliſhed upon this method of arguing. We do not make laws. No; we do not contend for this power. We only declare law; and, as we are a tribunal both competent and ſupreme, what we declare to be law becomes law, although it ſhould not have been ſo before. Thus the circumſtance of having no appeal from their juriſdiction is made to imply that they have no rule in the exerciſe of it; the judgment does not derive its validity from its conformity to the law; but prepoſterouſly the law is made to attend on the judgment; and the rule of the judgment is no other than the occaſional will of the houſe. An arbitrary diſcretion leads, legality follows; which is juſt the very nature and deſcription of a legiſlative act.

THIS claim in their hands was no barren theory. It was purſued into its utmoſt conſequences; and a dangerous principle has begot a correſpondent practice. A ſyſtematic ſpirit has been ſhewn upon both ſides. The electors of Middleſex choſe a perſon whom the houſe of commons had voted incapable; and the houſe of commons has taken in a member whom the electors of Middleſex had not choſen. By a conſtruction on that legiſlative power which had been aſſumed, they declared that the true legal ſenſe of the county was contained in the minority, on that occaſion; and might, on a reſiſtance to a vote of incapacity, be contained in any minority.

[229]WHEN any conſtruction of law goes againſt the ſpirit of the privilege it was meant to ſupport, it is a vicious conſtruction. It is material to us to be repreſented really and bona fide, and not in Forms, in types, and ſhadows, and fictions of law. The right of election was not eſtabliſhed merely as a matter of form, to ſatisfy ſome method and rule of technical reaſoning; it was not a principle which might ſubſtitute a Titius or a Maevius, a John Doe or Richard Roe, in the place of a man ſpecially choſen; not a principle which was juſt as well ſatisfied with one man as with another. It is a right, the effect of which is to give to the people, that man, and that man only, whom by their voices, actually, not conſtructively given, they declare that they know, eſteem, love, and truſt. This right is a matter within their own power of judging and feeling; not an ens rationis and creature of law: nor can thoſe devices, by which any thing elſe is ſubſtituted in the place of ſuch an actual choice, anſwer in the leaſt degree the end of repreſentation.

I KNOW that the courts of law have made as ſtrained conſtructions in other caſes. Such is the conſtruction in common recoveries. The method of conſtruction which in that caſe gives to the perſons in remainder, for their ſecurity and repreſentative, the door-keeper, cryer, or ſweeper of the court, or ſome other ſhadowy being without ſubſtance or effect, is a fiction of a very coarſe texture. This was however ſuffered, by the acquieſcence of the whole kingdom, for ages; becauſe the evaſion of the old ſtatute of Weſtminſter, which authoriſed perpetuities, had more ſenſe and utility than the law which was evaded. But an attempt to turn the right of election into ſuch a farce and mockery as a fictitious fine and recovery, [230] will, I hope, have another fate; becauſe the laws which give it are infinitely dear to us, and the evaſion is infinitely contemptible.

THE people indeed have been told, that this power of diſcretionary diſqualification is veſted in hands that they may truſt, and who will be ſure not to abuſe it to their prejudice. Until I find ſomething in this argument differing from that on which every mode of deſpotiſm has been defended, I ſhall not be inclined to pay it any great compliment. The people are ſatisfied to truſt themſelves with the exerciſe of their own privileges, and do not deſire this kind intervention of the houſe of commons to free them from the burthen. They are certainly in the right. They ought not to truſt the houſe of commons with a power over their franchiſes: becauſe the conſtitution, which placed two other co-ordinate powers to controul it, repoſed no ſuch confidence in that body, It were a folly well deſerving ſervitude for its puniſhment, to be full of confidence where the laws are full of diſtruſt; and to give to an houſe of commons, arrogating to its ſole reſolution the moſt harſh and odious part of legiſlative authority, that degree of ſubmiſſion which is due only to the legiſlature itſelf.

WHEN the houſe of commons, in an endeavour to obtain new advantages at the expence of the other orders of the ſtate, for the benefit of the commons at large, have purſued ſtrong meaſures; if it were not juſt, it was at leaſt natural, that the conſtituents ſhould connive at all their proceedings; becauſe we were ourſelves ultimately to profit. But when this ſubmiſſion is urged to us, in a conteſt between the repreſentatives and ourſelves, and where nothing can be put into their ſcale which is not taken from ours, they fancy us to be children when they tell us they are our repreſentatives, [231] our own fleſh and blood, and that all the ſtripes they give us are for our good. The very deſire of that body to have ſuch a truſt contrary to law repoſed in them, ſhews that they are not worthy of it. They certainly will abuſe it; becauſe all men poſſeſſed of an uncontrouled diſcretionary power leading to the aggrandiſement and profit of their own body have always abuſed it: and I ſee no particular ſanctity in our times, that is at all likely, by a miraculous operation, to overrule the courſe of nature.

BUT we muſt purpoſely ſhut our eyes, if we conſider this matter merely as a conteſt between the houſe of commons and the electors. The true conteſt is between the electors of the kingdom and the crown; the crown acting by an inſtrumental houſe of commons. It is preciſely the ſame, whether the miniſters of the crown can diſqualify by a dependent houſe of commons, or by a dependent court of ſtar chamber, or by a dependent court of king's bench. If once members of parliament can be practically convinced, that they do not depend on the affection or opinion of the people for their political being, they will give themſelves over, without even an appearance of reſerve, to the influence of the court.

INDEED, a parliament unconnected with the people, is eſſential to a miniſtry unconnected with the people; and therefore thoſe who ſaw through what mighty difficulties the interior miniſtry waded, and the exterior were dragged, in this buſineſs, will conceive of what prodigious importance, the new corps of king's men held this principle of occaſional and perſonal incapacitation, to the whole body of their deſign.

[232]WHEN the houſe of commons was thus made to conſider itſelf as the maſter of its conſtituents, there wanted but one thing to ſecure that houſe againſt all poſſible future deviation towards popularity; an unlimited fund of money to be laid out according to the pleaſure of the court.

TO compleat the ſcheme of bringing our court to a reſemblance to the neighbouring monarchies, it was neceſſary, in effect, to deſtroy thoſe appropriations of revenue, which ſeem to limit the property, as the other laws had done the powers, of the crown. An opportunity for this purpoſe was taken, upon an application to parliament for payment of the debts of the civil liſt; which in 1769 had amounted to 513,000 l. Such application had been made upon former occaſions; but to do it in the former manner would by no means anſwer the preſent purpoſe.

WHENEVER the crown had come to the commons to deſire a ſupply for the diſcharging of debts due on the civil liſt; it was always aſked and granted with one of the three following qualifications; ſometimes with all of them. Either it was ſtated, that the revenue had been diverted from its purpoſes by parliament: or that thoſe duties had fallen ſhort of the ſum for which they were given by parliament, and that the intention of the legiſlature had not been fulfilled: or that the money required to diſcharge the civil liſt debt, was to be raiſed chargeable on the civil liſt duties. In the reign of queen Anne, the crown was found in debt. The leſſening and granting away ſome part of her revenue by parliament was alleged as the cauſe of that debt, and pleaded as an equitable ground, ſuch it certainly was, for diſcharging it. It does not appear that the duties which were then applied to the ordinary government produced clear above [233] 580,000 l. a year; becauſe, when they were afterwards granted to George the firſt, 120,000 l. was added, to complete the whole to 700,000 l. a year. Indeed it was then aſſerted, and, I have no doubt, truly, that for many years the net produce did not amount to above 550,000 l. The queen's extraordinary charges were beſides very conſiderable; equal, at leaſt, to any we have known in our time. The application to parliament was not for an abſolute grant of money; but to empower the queen to raiſe it by borrowing upon the civil liſt funds.

THE civil liſt debt was twice paid in the reign of George the firſt. The money was granted upon the ſame plan which had been followed in the reign of queen Anne. The civil liſt revenues were then mortgaged for the ſum to be raiſed, and ſtood charged with the ranſom of their own deliverance.

GEORGE the ſecond received an addition to his civil liſt. Duties were granted for the purpoſe of raiſing 800,000 l. a year. It was not until he had reigned nineteen years, and after the laſt rebellion, that he called upon parliament for a diſcharge of the civil liſt debt. The extraordinary charges brought on by the rebellion, account fully for the neceſſities of the crown. However, the extraordinary charges of government were not thought a ground fit to be relied on.

A DEFICIENCY of the civil liſt duties for ſeveral years before, was ſtated as the principal, if not the ſole, ground on which an application to parliament could be juſtified. About this time the produce of theſe duties had fallen pretty low; and even upon an average of the whole reign they never produced 800,000 l. a year clear to the treaſury.

THAT prince reigned fourteen years afterwards: not only no new demands were made; but with [234] ſo much good order were his revenues and expences regulated, that, although many parts of the eſtabliſhment of the court were upon a larger and more liberal ſcale than they have been ſince, there was a conſiderable ſum in hand, on his deceaſe, amounting to about 170,000 l. applicable to the ſervice of the civil liſt of his preſent majeſty. So that, if this reign commenced with a greater charge than uſual, there was enough, and more than enough, abundantly to ſupply all the extraordinary expence. That the civil liſt ſhould have been exceeded in the two former reigns, eſpecially in the reign of George the firſt, was not at all ſurprizing. His revenue was but 700,000 l. annually; if it ever produced ſo much clear. The prodigious and dangerous diſaffection to the very being of the eſtabliſhment, and the cauſe of a Pretender then powerfully abetted from abroad, produced many demands of an extraordinary nature both abroad and at home. Much management and great expences were neceſſary. But the throne of no prince has ſtood upon more unſhaken foundations than that of his preſent majeſty.

TO have exceeded the ſum given for the civil liſt, and to have incurred a debt without ſpecial authority of parliament, was, prima facie, a criminal act: as ſuch, miniſters ought naturally rather to have withdrawn it from the inſpection, than to have expoſed it to the ſcrutiny, of parliament. Certainly they ought, of themſelves, officiouſly to have come armed with every ſort of argument, which, by explaining, could excuſe, a matter in itſelf of preſumptive guilt. But the terrors of the houſe of commons are no longer for miniſters.

ON the other hand, the peculiar character of the houſe of commons, as truſtee of the public purſe, would have led them to call with a punctilious ſolicitude [235] for every public account, and to have examined into them with the moſt rigorous accuracy.

THE capital uſe of an account is, that the reality of the charge, the reaſon of incurring it, and the juſtice and neceſſity of diſcharging it, ſhould all appear antecedent to the payment. No man ever pays firſt, and calls for his account afterwards; becauſe he would thereby let out of his hands the principal, and indeed only effectual, means of compelling a full and fair one. But, in national buſineſs, there is an additional reaſon for a previous production of every account. It is a check, perhaps the only one, upon a corrupt and prodigal uſe of public money. An account after payment is to no rational purpoſe an account. However, the houſe of commons thought all theſe to be antiquated principles; they were of opinion, that the moſt parliamentary way of proceeding was, to pay firſt what the court thought proper to demand, and to take its chance for an examination into accounts at ſome time of greater leiſure.

THE nation had ſettled 800,000 l. a year on the crown, as ſufficient for the ſupport of its dignity, upon the eſtimate of its own miniſters. When miniſters came to parliament, and ſaid that this allowance had not been ſufficient for the purpoſe, and that they had incurred a debt of 500,000 l. would it not have been natural for parliament firſt to have aſked, how, and by what means, their appropriated allowance came to be inſufficient? Would it not have favoured of ſome attention to juſtice, to have ſeen in what periods of adminiſtration this debt had been originally incurred; that they might diſcover, and, if need were, animadvert on the perſons who were found the moſt culpable? To put their hands upon ſuch articles of expenditure as they thought improper or exceſſive, and to ſecure, in future, [236] againſt ſuch miſapplication or exceeding? Accounts for any other purpoſes are but a matter of curioſity, and no genuine parliamentary object. All the accounts which could anſwer any parliamentary end were refuſed, or poſtponed by previous queſtions. Every idea of prevention was rejected, as conveying an improper ſuſpicion of the miniſters of the crown.

WHEN every leading account had been refuſed, many others were granted with ſufficient facility.

BUT with great candour alſo, the houſe was informed, that hardly any of them could be ready until the next ſeſſion; ſome of them perhaps not ſo ſoon. But, in order firmly to eſtabliſh the precedent of payment previous to account, and to form it into a ſettled rule of the houſe, the god in the machine was brought down, nothing leſs than the wonder-working Law of Parliament. It was alleged, that it is the law of parliament, when any demand comes from the crown, that the houſe muſt go immediately into the committee of ſupply; in which committee it was allowed, that the production and examination of accounts would be quite proper and regular. It was therefore carried, that they ſhould go into the committee without delay, and without accounts, in order to examine with great order and regularity things that could not poſſibly come before them. After this ſtroke of orderly and parliamentary wit and humour, they went into the committee; and very generouſly voted the payment.

THERE was a circumſtance in that debate too remarkable to be overlooked. This debt of the civil liſt was all along argued upon the ſame footing as a debt of the ſtate, contracted upon national authority. Its payment was urged as equally preſſing [237] upon the public faith and honour: and when the whole year's account was ſtated, in what is called the Budget, the miniſtry valued themſelves on the payment of ſo much public debt, juſt as if they had diſcharged 500,000 l. of navy or exchequer bills. Though, in truth, their payment, from the ſinking fund, of debt which was never contracted by parliamentary authority, was, to all intents and purpoſes, ſo much debt incurred. But ſuch is the preſent notion of public credit, and payment of debt. No wonder that it produces ſuch effects.

NOR was the houſe at all more attentive to a provident ſecurity againſt future, than it had been to a vindictive retroſpect to paſt, miſmanagements. I ſhould have thought indeed that a miniſterial promiſe during their own continuance in office, might have been given, though this would have been but a poor ſecurity for the public. Mr. Pelham gave ſuch an aſſurance, and he kept his word. But nothing was capable of extorting from our miniſters any thing which had the leaſt reſemblance to a promiſe of confining the expences of the civil liſt within the limits which had been ſettled by parliament. This reſerve of theirs I look upon to be equivalent to the cleareſt declaration, that they were reſolved upon a contrary courſe.

HOWEVER, to put the matter beyond all doubt, in the ſpeech from the throne, after thanking parliament for the relief ſo liberally granted, the miniſters inform the two houſes, that they will endeavour to confine the expences of the civil government—within what limits, think you? thoſe which the law had preſcribed? Not in the leaſt—‘"ſuch limits as the "honour of the crown can poſſibly admit."’

THUS they eſtabliſhed an arbitrary ſtandard for that dignity which parliament had defined and limited [238] to a legal ſtandard. They gave themſelves, under the lax and indeterminate idea of the honour of the crown, a full looſe for all manner of diſſipation, and all manner of corruption. This arbitrary ſtandard they were not afraid to hold out to both houſes; while an idle and unoperative act of parliament, eſtimating the dignity of the crown at 800,000 l. and confining it to that ſum, adds to the number of obſolete ſtatutes which load the ſhelves of libraries without any ſort of advantage to the people.

AFTER this proceeding, I ſuppoſe that no man can be ſo weak as to think that the crown is limited to any ſettled allowance whatſoever. For if the miniſtry has 800,000 l. a year by the law of the land; and if by the law of parliament all the debts which exceed it are to be paid previous to the production of any account; I preſume that this is equivalent to an income with no other limits than the abilities of the ſubject and the moderation of the court; that is to ſay, it is ſuch an income as is poſſeſſed by every abſolute monarch in Europe. It amounts, as a perſon of great ability ſaid in the debate, to an unlimited power of drawing upon the ſinking fund. Its effect on the public credit of this kingdom muſt be obvious; for in vain is the ſinking fund the great buttreſs of all the reſt, if it be in the power of the miniſtry to reſort to it for the payment of any debts which they may chooſe to incur, under the name of the civil liſt, and through the medium of a committee, which thinks itſelf obliged by law to vote ſupplies without any other account than that of the mere exiſtence of the debt.

FIVE hundred thouſand pounds is a ſerious ſum. But it is nothing to the prolific principle upon which the ſum was voted; a principle that may be well called, the fruitful mother of an hundred more. [239] Neither is the damage to public credit of very great conſequence, when compared with that which reſults to public morals and to the ſafety of the conſtitution, from the exhauſtleſs mine of corruption opened by the precedent, and to be wrought by the principle, of the late payment of the debts of the civil liſt. The power of diſcretionary diſqualification by one law of parliament, and the neceſſity of paying every debt of the civil liſt by another law of parliament, if ſuffered to paſs unnoticed, muſt eſtabliſh ſuch a fund of rewards and terrors as will make parliament the beſt appendage and ſupport of arbitrary power that ever was invented by the wit of man. This is felt. The quarrel is begun between the repreſentatives and the people. The court faction have at length committed them.

IN ſuch a ſtrait the wiſeſt may well be perplexed, and the boldeſt ſtaggered. The circumſtances are in a great meaſure new. We have hardly any land-marks from the wiſdom of our anceſtors, to guide us. At beſt we can only follow the ſpirit of their proceeding in other caſes. I know the diligence with which my obſervations on our public diſorders have been made; I am very ſure of the integrity of the motives on which they are publiſhed: I cannot be equally confident in any plan for the abſolute cure of thoſe diſorders, or for their certain future prevention. My aim is to bring this matter into more public diſcuſſion. Let the ſagacity of others work upon it. It is not uncommon for medical writers to deſcribe hiſtories of diſeaſes very accurately, on whoſe cure they can ſay but very little.

THE firſt ideas which generally ſuggeſt themſelves, for the cure of parliamentary diſorders, are, to ſhorten the duration of parliaments; and to diſqualify all, or a great number of placemen, from a [240] ſeat in the houſe of commons. Whatever, efficacy there may be in thoſe remedies, I am ſure in the preſent ſtate of things it is impoſſible to apply them. A reſtoration of the right of free election is a preliminary indiſpenſable to every other reformation. What alterations ought afterwards to be made in conſtitution, is a matter of deep and difficult reſearch.

IF I wrote merely to pleaſe the popular palate, it would indeed be as little troubleſome to me as to another, to extol theſe remedies, ſo famous in ſpeculation, but to which their greateſt admirers have never attempted ſeriouſly to reſort in practice. I confeſs then, that I have no ſort of reliance upon either a triennial parliament, or a place-bill. With regard to the former, perhaps it might rather ſerve to counteract, than to promote the ends that are propoſed by it. To ſay nothing of the horrible diſorders among the people attending frequent elections, I ſhould be fearful of committing, every three years, the independent gentlemen of the country into a conteſt with the treaſury. It is eaſy to ſee which of the contending parties would be ruined firſt. Whoever has taken a careful view of public proceedings, ſo as to endeavour to ground his ſpeculations on his experience, muſt have obſerved how prodigiouſly greater the power of miniſtry is in the firſt and laſt ſeſſion of a parliament, than it is in the intermediate period, when members ſit a little firm on their ſeats. The perſons of the greateſt parliamentary experience, with whom I have converſed, did conſtantly, in canvaſſing the fate of queſtions, allow ſomething to the court-ſide, upon account of the elections depending or imminent. The evil complained of, if it exiſts in the preſent ſtate of things, would hardly be removed by a triennial parliament: for, unleſs the influence of government [241] in elections can be entirely taken away, the more frequently they return, the more they will haraſs private independence; the more generally men will be compelled to fly to the ſettled, ſyſtematic intereſt of government, and to the reſources of a boundleſs civil liſt. Certainly ſomething may be done, and ought to be done, towards leſſening that influence in elections; and this will be neceſſary upon a plan either of longer or ſhorter duration of parliament. But nothing can ſo perfectly remove the evil, as not to render ſuch contentions, too frequently repeated, utterly ruinous, firſt to independence of fortune, and then to independence of ſpirit. As I am only giving an opinion on this point, and not at all debating it in an adverſe line, I hope I may be excuſed in another obſervation. With great truth I may aver, that I never remember to have talked on this ſubject with any man much converſant with public buſineſs, who conſidered ſhort parliaments as a real improvement of the conſtitution. Gentlemen, warm in a popular cauſe, are ready enough to attribute all the declarations of ſuch perſons to corrupt motives. But the habit of affairs, if, on one hand, it tends to corrupt the mind, furniſhes it, on the other, with the means of better information. The authority of ſuch perſons will always have ſome weight. It may ſtand upon a par with the ſpeculations of thoſe who are leſs practiſed in buſineſs; and who, with perhaps purer intentions, have not ſo effectual means of judging. It is, beſides, an effect of vulgar and puerile malignity to imagine, that every ſtateſman is of courſe corrupt; and that his opinion, upon every conſtitutional point, is ſolely formed upon ſome ſiniſter intereſt.

THE next favourite remedy is a place-bill. The ſame principle guides in both; I mean, the opinion [242] which is entertained by many, of the infallibility of laws and regulations, in the cure of public diſtempers. Without being as unreaſonably doubtful as many are unwiſely confident, I will only ſay, that this alſo is a matter very well worthy of ſerious and mature reflection. It is not eaſy to foreſee, what the effect would be, of diſconnecting with parliament, the greateſt part of thoſe who hold civil employments, and of ſuch mighty and important bodies as the military and naval eſtabliſhments. It were better, perhaps, that they ſhould have a corrupt intereſt in the forms of the conſtitution, than that they ſhould have none at all. This is a queſtion altogether different from the diſqualification of a particular deſcription of revenue officers from ſeats in parliament; or, perhaps, of all the lower ſorts of them from votes in elections. In the former caſe, only the few are affected; in the latter, only the inconſiderable. But a great official, a great profeſſional, a great military and naval intereſt, all neceſſarily comprehending many people of the firſt weight, ability, wealth, and ſpirit, has been gradually formed in the kingdom. Theſe new intereſts muſt be let into a ſhare of repreſentation, elſe poſſibly they may be inclined to deſtroy thoſe inſtitutions of which they are not permitted to partake. This is not a thing to be trifled with; nor is it every well-meaning man, that is fit to put his hands to it. Many other ſerious conſiderations occur. I do not open them here, becauſe they are not directly to my purpoſe; propoſing only to give the reader ſome taſte of the difficulties that attend all capital changes in the conſtitution; juſt to hint the uncertainty, to ſay no worſe, of being able to prevent the court, as long as it has the means of influence abundantly in its power, of applying that influence to parliament; and perhaps, if the public method were precluded, of doing it in ſome worſe [243] and more dangerous method. Underhand and oblique ways would be ſtudied. The ſcience of evaſion, already tolerably underſtood, would then be brought to the greateſt perfection. It is no inconſiderable part of wiſdom, to know how much of an evil ought to be tolerated; leſt, by attempting a degree of purity impracticable in degenerate times and manners, inſtead of cutting of the ſubſiſting ill practices, new corruptions might be produced for the concealment and ſecurity of the old. It were better, undoubtedly, that no influence at all could affect the mind of a member of parliament. But of all modes of influence, in my opinion, a place under the government is the leaſt diſgraceful to the man who holds it, and by far the moſt ſafe to the country. I would not ſhut out that ſort of influence which is open and viſible, which is connected with the dignity and the ſervice of the ſtate, when it is not in my power to prevent the influence of contracts, of ſubſcriptions, of direct bribery, and thoſe innumerable methods of clandeſtine corruption, which are abundantly in the hands of the court, and which will be applied as long as theſe means of corruption, and the diſpoſition to be corrupted, have exiſtence amongſt us. Our conſtitution ſtands on a nice equipoiſe, with ſteep precipices and deep waters upon all ſides of it. In removing it from a dangerous leaning towards one ſide, there may be a riſque of overſetting it on the other. Every project of a material change in a government ſo complicated as ours, combined at the ſame time with external circumſtances ſtill more complicated, is a matter full of difficulties; in which a conſiderate man will not be too ready to decide; a prudent man too ready to undertake; or an honeſt man too ready to promiſe. They do not reſpect the public nor themſelves, who engage for more, than they are ſure that they [244] ought to attempt, or that they are able to perform. Theſe are my ſentiments, weak perhaps, but honeſt and unbiaſſed; and ſubmitted entirely to the opinion of grave men, well affected to the conſtitution of their country, and of experience in what may beſt promote or hurt it.

INDEED, in the ſituation in which we ſtand, with an immenſe revenue, an enormous debt, mighty eſtabliſhments, government itſelf a great banker and a great merchant, I ſee no other way for the preſervation of a decent attention to public intereſt in the repreſentatives, but the interpoſition of the body of the people itſelf, whenever it ſhall appear, by ſome flagrant and notorious act, by ſome capital innovation, that theſe repreſentatives are going to over-leap the fences of the law, and to introduce an arbitrary power. This interpoſition is a moſt unpleaſant remedy. But, if it be a legal remedy, it is intended on ſome occaſion to be uſed; to be uſed then only, when it is evident that nothing elſe can hold the conſtitution to its true principles.

THE diſtempers of monarchy were the great ſubjects of apprehenſion and redreſs, in the laſt century; in this, the diſtempers of parliament. It is not in parliament alone that the remedy for parliamentary diſorders can be compleated; hardly indeed can it begin there. Until a confidence in government is re-eſtabliſhed, the people ought to be excited to a more ſtrict and detailed attention to the conduct of their repreſentatives. Standards, for judging more ſyſtematically upon their conduct, ought to be ſettled in the meetings of counties and corporations. Frequent and correct liſts of the voters in all important queſtions ought to be procured.

[245]BY ſuch means ſomething may be done. By ſuch means it may appear who thoſe are, that, by an indiſcriminate ſupport of all adminiſtrations, have totally baniſhed all integrity and confidence out of public proceedings; have confounded the beſt men with the worſt; and weakened and diſſolved, inſtead of ſtrengthening and compacting, the general frame of government. If any perſon is more concerned for government and order, than for the liberties of his country; even he is equally concerned to put an end to this courſe of indiſcriminate ſupport. It is this blind and undiſtinguiſhing ſupport, that feeds the ſpring of thoſe very diſorders, by which he is frighted into the arms of the faction which contains in itſelf the ſource of all diſorders, by enfeebling all the viſible and regular authority of the ſtate. The diſtemper is increaſed by his injudicious and prepoſterous endeavours, or pretences, for the cure of it.

AN exterior adminiſtration, choſen for its impotency, or after it is choſen purpoſely rendered impotent, in order to be rendered ſubſervient, will not be obeyed. The laws themſelves will not be reſpected, when thoſe who execute them are deſpiſed; and they will be deſpiſed, when their power is not immediate from the crown, or natural in the kingdom. Never were miniſters better ſupported in parliament. Parliamentary ſupport comes and goes with office, totally regardleſs of the man, or the merit. Is government ſtrengthened? It grows weaker and weaker. The popular torrent gains upon it every hour. Let us learn from our experience. It is not ſupport that is wanting to government, but reformation. When miniſtry reſts upon public opinion, it is not indeed built upon a rock of adamant; it has, however, ſome ſtability. But when it ſtands upon private humour, its ſtructure [246] is of ſtubble, and its foundation is on quickſand. I repeat it again—He that ſupports every adminiſtration, ſubverts all government. The reaſon is this. The whole buſineſs in which a court uſually takes an intereſt goes on at preſent equally well, in whatever hands, whether high or low, wiſe or fooliſh, ſcandalous or reputable; there is nothing therefore to hold it firm to any one body of men, or to any one conſiſtent ſcheme of politics. Nothing interpoſes, to prevent the full operation of all the caprices and all the paſſions of a court upon the ſervants of the public. The ſyſtem of adminiſtration is open to continual ſhocks and changes, upon the principles of the meaneſt cabal, and the moſt contemptible intrigue. Nothing can be ſolid and permanent. All good men at length fly with horrour from ſuch a ſervice. Men of rank and ability, with the ſpirit which ought to animate ſuch men in a free ſtate, while they decline the juriſdiction of a dark cabal on their actions and their fortunes, will, for both, chearfully put themſelves upon their country. They will truſt an inquiſitive and diſtinguiſhing parliament; becauſe it does enquire, and does diſtinguiſh. If they act well, they know, that in ſuch a parliament, they will be ſupported againſt any intrigue; if they act ill, they know that no intrigue can protect them. This ſituation, however aweful, is honourable. But in one hour, and in the ſelf-ſame aſſembly, without any aſſigned or aſſignable cauſe, to be precipitated from the higheſt authority to the moſt marked neglect, poſſibly into the greateſt peril of life and reputation, is a ſituation full of danger, and deſtitute of honour. It will be ſhunned equally by every man of prudence, and every man of ſpirit.

SUCH are the conſequences of the diviſion of court from the adminiſtration; and of the diviſion [247] of public men among themſelves. By the former of theſe, lawful government is undone; by the latter, all oppoſition to lawleſs power is rendered impotent. Government may in a great meaſure be reſtored, if any conſiderable bodies of men have honeſty and reſolution enough never to accept adminiſtration, unleſs this garriſon of king's men, which is ſtationed, as in a citadel, to controul and enſlave it, be entirely broken and diſbanded, and every work they have thrown up be levelled with the ground. The diſpoſition of public men to keep this corps together, and to act under it, or to co-operate with it, is a touchſtone by which every adminiſtration ought in future to be tried. There has not been one which has not ſufficiently experienced the utter incompatibility of that faction with the public peace, and with all the ends of good government: ſince, if they oppoſed it, they ſoon loſt every power of ſerving the crown; if they ſubmitted to it, they loſt all the eſteem of their country. Until miniſters give to the public a full proof of their entire alienation from that ſyſtem, however plauſible their pretences, we may be ſure they are more intent on the emoluments than the duties of office. If they refuſe to give this proof, we know of what ſtuff they are made. In this particular, it ought to be the electors buſineſs to look to their repreſentatives. The electors ought to eſteem it no leſs culpable in their member to give a ſingle vote in parliament to ſuch an adminiſtration, than to take an office under it; to endure it, than to act in it. The notorious infidelity and verſatility of members of parliament, in their opinions of men and things, ought in a particular manner to be conſidered by the electors in the enquiry which is recommended to them. This is one of the principal holdings of that deſtructive ſyſtem, which has endeavoured to unhinge all the [248] virtuous, honourable, and uſeful connexions in the kingdom.

THIS cabal has, with great ſucceſs, propagated a doctrine which ſerves for a colour to thoſe acts of treachery; and whilſt it receives any degree of countenance, it will be utterly ſenſeleſs to look for a vigorous oppoſition to the court party. The doctrine is this: That all political connexions are in their nature factious, and as ſuch ought to be diſſipated and deſtroyed; and that the rule for forming adminiſtrations is mere perſonal ability, rated by the judgment of this cabal upon it, and taken by draughts from every diviſion and denomination of public men. This decree was ſolemnly promulgated by the head of the court corps, the earl of Bute himſelf, in a ſpeech which he made, in the year 1766, againſt the then adminiſtration, the only adminiſtration which he has ever been known directly and publicly to oppoſe.

IT is indeed in no way wonderful, that ſuch perſons ſhould make ſuch declarations. That connexion and faction are equivalent terms, is an opinion which has been carefully inculcated at all times by unconſtitutional ſtateſmen. The reaſon is evident. Whilſt men are linked together, they eaſily and ſpedily communicate the alarm of any evil deſign. They are enabled to fathom it with common counſel, and to oppoſe it with united ſtrength. Whereas, when they lie diſperſed, without concert, order, or diſcipline, communication is uncertain, counſel difficult, and reſiſtance impracticable. Where men are not acquainted with each other's principles, nor experienced in each other's talents, nor at all practiſed in their mutual habitudes and diſpoſitions by joint efforts in buſineſs; no perſonal confidence, no friendſhip, no common intereſt, ſubſiſting among them; it is [249] evidently impoſſible that they can act a public part with uniformity, perſeverance, or efficacy. In a connexion, the moſt inconſiderable man, by adding to the weight of the whole, has his value, and his uſe; out of it, the greateſt talents are wholly unſerviceable to the public. No man, who is not inflamed by vain-glory into enthuſiaſm, can flatter himſelf that his ſingle, unſupported, deſultory, unſyſtematic endeavours are of power to defeat the ſubtle deſigns and united cabals of ambitious citizens. When bad men combine, the good muſt aſſociate; elſe they will fall, one by one, an unpitied ſacrifice in a contemptible ſtruggle.

IT is not enough in a ſituation of truſt in the commonwealth, that a man means well to his country; it is not enough that in his ſingle perſon he never did an evil act, but always voted according to his conſcience, and even harangued againſt every deſign which he apprehended to be prejudicial to the intereſts of his country. This innoxious and ineffectual character, that ſeems formed upon a plan of apology and diſculpation, falls miſerably ſhort of the mark of public duty. That duty demands and requires, that what is right ſhould not only be made known, but made prevalent; that what is evil ſhould not only be detected, but defeated. When the public man omits to put himſelf in a ſituation of doing his duty with effect, it is an omiſſion that fruſtrates the purpoſes of his truſt almoſt as much as if he had formally betrayed it. It is ſurely no very rational account of a man's life, that he has always acted right; but has taken ſpecial care, to act in ſuch a manner that his endeavours could not poſſibly be productive of any conſequence.

I DO not wonder that the behaviour of many parties ſhould have made perſons of tender and ſcrupulous [250] virtue ſomewhat out of humour with all ſorts of connexion in politics. I admit that people frequently acquire in ſuch confederacies a narrow, bigoted, and proſcriptive ſpirit; that they are apt to ſink the idea of the general good in this circumſcribed and partial intereſt. But, where duty renders a critical ſituation a neceſſary one, it is our buſineſs to keep free from the evils attendant upon it; and not to fly from the ſituation itſelf. If a fortreſs is ſeated in an unwholeſome air, an officer of the garriſon is obliged to be attentive to his health, but he muſt not deſert his ſtation. Every profeſſion, not excepting the glorious one of a ſoldier, or the ſacred one of a prieſt, is liable to its own particular vices; which, however, form no argument againſt thoſe ways of life; nor are the vices themſelves inevitable to every individual in thoſe profeſſions. Of ſuch a nature are connexions in politics; eſſentially neceſſary for the full performance of our public duty, accidentally liable to degenerate into faction. Commonwealths are made of families, free commonwealths of parties alſo; and we may as well affirm, that our natural regards and ties of blood tend inevitably to make men bad citizens, as that the bonds of our party weaken thoſe by which we are held to our country.

SOME legiſlators went ſo far as to make neutrality in party a crime againſt the ſtate. I do not know whether this might not have been rather to overſtrain the principle. Certain it is, the beſt patriots in the greateſt commonwealths have always commended and promoted ſuch connexions. Idem ſentire de republica, was with them a principal ground of friendſhip and attachment; nor do I know any other capable of forming firmer, dearer, more pleaſing, more honourable, and more virtuous habitudes. The Romans carried this principle a great [251] way. Even the holding of offices together, the diſpoſition of which aroſe from chance not ſelection, gave riſe to a relation which continued for life. It was called neceſſitudo ſortis; and it was looked upon with a ſacred reverence. Breaches of any of theſe kinds of civil relation were conſidered as acts of the moſt diſtinguiſhed turpitude. The whole people was diſtributed into political ſocieties, in which they acted in ſupport of ſuch intereſts in the ſtate as they ſeverally affected. For it was then thought no crime, to endeavour by every honeſt means to advance to ſuperiority and power thoſe of your own ſentiments and opinions. This wiſe people was far from imagining that thoſe connexions had no tie, and obliged to no duty; but that men might quit them without ſhame, upon every call of intereſt. They believed private honour to be the great foundation of public truſt; that friendſhip was no mean ſtep towards patriotiſm; that he who, in the common intercourſe of life, ſhewed he regarded ſomebody beſides himſelf, when he came to act in a public ſituation, might probably conſult ſome other intereſt than his own. Never may we become plus ſages que les ſages, as the French comedian has happily expreſſed it, wiſer than all the wiſe and good men who have lived before us. It was their wiſh, to ſee public and private virtues, not diſſonant and jarring, and mutually deſtructive, but harmoniouſly combined, growing out of one another in a noble and orderly gradation, reciprocally ſupporting and ſupported. In one of the moſt fortunate periods of our hiſtory this country was governed by a connexion; I mean the great connexion of whigs in the reign of queen Anne. They were complimented upon the principle of this connexion by a poet who was in high eſteem with them. Addiſon, who knew their ſentiments, could not praiſe them for what they conſidered as no proper ſubject of commendation. [252] As a poet who knew his buſineſs, he could not applaud them for a thing which in general eſtimation was not highly reputable. Addreſſing himſelf to Britain,

Thy fav'rites grow not up by fortunes ſport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a court.
On the firm baſis of deſert they riſe,
From long-try'd faith, and friendſhip's holy ties.

THE whigs of thoſe days believed that the only proper method of riſing into power was through hard eſſays of practiſed friendſhip and experimented fidelity. At that time it was not imagined, that patriotiſm was a bloody idol, which required the ſacrifice of children and parents, or deareſt connexions in private life, and of all the virtues that riſe from thoſe relations. They were not of that ingenious paradoxical morality, to imagine that a ſpirit of moderation was properly ſhewn in patiently bearing the ſufferings of your friends; or that diſintereſtedneſs was clearly manifeſted at the expence of other peoples fortune. They believed that no men could act with effect, who did not act in concert; that no men could act in concert, who did not act with confidence; and that no men could act with confidence, who were not bound together by common opinions, common affections, and common intereſts.

THESE wiſe men, for ſuch I muſt call lord Sunderland, lord Godolphin, lord Sommers, and lord Marlborough, were too well principled in theſe maxims upon which the whole fabric of public ſtrength is built, to be blown off their ground by the breath of every childiſh talker. They were not afraid that they ſhould be called an ambitious Junto; or that their reſolution to ſtand or fall together [253] ſhould, by placemen, be interpreted into a ſcuffle for places.

PARTY is a body of men united, for promoting by their joint endeavours the national intereſt, upon ſome particular principle in which they are all agreed. For my part, I find it impoſſible to conceive, that any one believes in his own politics, or thinks them to be of any weight, who refuſes to adopt the means of having them reduced into practice. It is the buſineſs of the ſpeculative philoſopher to mark the proper ends of government. It is the buſineſs of the politician, who is the philoſopher in action, to find out proper means towards thoſe ends, and to employ them with effect. Therefore every honourable connexion will avow it is their firſt purpoſe, to purſue every juſt method to put the men who hold their opinions into ſuch a condition as may enable them to carry their common plans into execution, with all the power and authority of the ſtate. As this power is attached to certain ſituations, it is their duty to contend for theſe ſituations. Without a proſcription of others, they are bound to give to their own party the preference in all things; and by no means, for private conſiderations, to accept any offers of power in which the whole body is not included; nor to ſuffer themſelves to be led, or to be controuled, or to be over-balanced, in office or in council, by thoſe who contradict the very fundamental principles on which their party is formed, and even thoſe upon which every fair connexion muſt ſtand. Such a generous contention for power, on ſuch manly and honourable maxims, will eaſily be diſtinguiſhed from the mean and intereſted ſtruggle for place and emolument. The very ſtile of ſuch perſons will ſerve to diſcriminate them from thoſe numberleſs impoſtors, who have deluded the ignorant with profeſſions incompatible [254] with human practice, and have afterwards incenſed them by practices below the level of vulgar rectitude.

IT is an advantage to all narrow wiſdom and narrow morals, that their maxims have a plauſible air; and, on a curſory view, appear equal to firſt principles. They are light and portable. They are as current as copper coin; and about as valuable. They ſerve equally the firſt capacities and the loweſt; and they are, at leaſt, as uſeful to the worſt men as the beſt. Of this ſtamp is the cant of Not men, but meaſures; a ſort of charm, by which many people get looſe from every honourable engagement. When I ſee a man acting this deſultory and diſconnected part, with as much detriment to his own fortune as prejudice to the cauſe of any party, I am not perſuaded that he is right; but I am ready to believe he is in earneſt. I reſpect virtue in all its ſituations; even when it is found in the unſuitable company of weakneſs. I lament to ſee qualities, rare and valuable, ſquandered away without any public utility. But when a gentleman with great viſible emoluments abandons the party in which he has long acted, and tells you, it is becauſe he proceeds upon his own judgment; that he acts on the merits of the ſeveral meaſures as they ariſe; and that he is obliged to follow his own conſcience, and not that of others; he gives reaſons which it is impoſſible to controvert, and diſcovers a character which it is impoſſible to miſtake. What ſhall we think of him who never differed from a certain ſet of men until the moment they loſt their power, and who never agreed with them in a ſingle inſtance afterwards? Would not ſuch a coincidence of intereſt and opinion be rather fortunate? Would it not be an extraordinary caſt upon the dice, that a man's connexions ſhould degenerate into faction, [255] preciſely at the critical moment when they loſe their power, or he accepts a place? When people deſert their connexions, the deſertion is a manifeſt fact, upon which a direct ſimple iſſue lies, triable by plain men. Whether a meaſure of government be right or wrong, is no matter of fact, but a mere affair of opinion, on which men may, as they do, diſpute and wrangle without end. But whether the individual thinks the meaſure right or wrong, is a point at ſtill a greater diſtance from the reach of all human deciſion. It is therefore very convenient to politicians, not to put the judgment of their conduct on overt-acts, cognizable in any ordinary court, but upon ſuch matter as can be triable only in that ſecret tribunal, where they are ſure of being heard with favour, or where at worſt the ſentence will be only private whipping.

I BELIEVE the reader would wiſh to find no ſubſtance in a doctrine which has a tendency to deſtroy all teſt of character as deduced from conduct. He will therefore excuſe my adding ſomething more, towards the further clearing up a point, which the great convenience of obſcurity to diſhoneſty has been able to cover with ſome degree of darkneſs and doubt.

IN order to throw an odium on political connexion, theſe politicians ſuppoſe it a neceſſary incident to it, that you are blindly to follow the opinions of your party, when in direct oppoſition to your own clear ideas; a degree of ſervitude that no worthy man could bear the thought of ſubmitting to; and ſuch as, I believe, no connexions (except ſome court factions) ever could be ſo ſenſeleſsly tyrannical as to impoſe. Men thinking freely, will, in particular inſtances, think differently. But ſtill, as the greater part of the meaſures which ariſe in the courſe of public buſineſs are related to, [256] or dependent on, ſome great leading general principles in government, a man muſt be peculiarly unfortunate in the choice of his political company if he does not agree with them at leaſt nine times in ten. If he does not concur in theſe general principles upon which the party is founded, and which neceſſarily draw on a concurrence in their application, he ought from the beginning to have choſen ſome other, more conformable to his opinions. When the queſtion is in its nature doubtful, or not very material, the modeſty which becomes an individual, and (in ſpite of our court moraliſts) that partiality which becomes a well-choſen friendſhip, will frequently bring on an acquieſcence in the general ſentiment. Thus the diſagreement will naturally be rare; it will be only enough to indulge freedom, without violating concord, or diſturbing arrangement. And this is all that ever was required for a character of the greateſt uniformity and ſteadineſs in connexion. How men can proceed without any connexion at all, is to me utterly incomprehenſible. Of what ſort of materials muſt that man be made, how muſt he be tempered and put together, who can ſit whole years in parliament, with five hundred and fifty of his fellow citizens, amidſt the ſtorm of ſuch tempeſtuous paſſions, in the ſharp conflict of ſo many wits, and tempers, and characters, in the agitation of ſuch mighty queſtions, in the diſcuſſion of ſuch vaſt and ponderous intereſts, without ſeeing any one ſort of men, whoſe character, conduct, or diſpoſition, would lead him to aſſociate himſelf with them, to aid and be aided, in any one ſyſtem of public utility?

I REMEMBER an old ſcholaſtic aphoriſm, which ſays, ‘"that the man who lives wholly detached from others, muſt be either an angel or a devil."’ [257] When I ſee in any of theſe detached gentlemen of our times the angelic purity, power, and beneficence, I ſhall admit them to be angels. In the mean time we are born only to be men. We ſhall do enough if we form ourſelves to be good ones. It is therefore our buſineſs carefully to cultivate in our minds, to rear to the moſt perfect vigour and maturity, every ſort of generous and honeſt feeling that belongs to our nature. To bring the diſpoſitions that are lovely in private life into the ſervice and conduct of the commonwealth; ſo to be patriots, as not to forget we are gentlemen. To cultivate friendſhips, and to incur enmities. To have both ſtrong, but both ſelected: in the one, to be placable; in the other, immovable. To model our principles to our duties and our ſituation. To be fully perſuaded, that all virtue which is impracticable is ſpurious; and rather to run the riſque of falling into faults in a courſe which leads us to act with effect and energy, than to loiter out our days without blame, and without uſe. Public life is a ſituation of power and energy; he treſpaſſes againſt his duty who ſleeps upon his watch, as well as he that goes over to the enemy.

THERE is, however, a time for all things. It is not every conjuncture which calls with equal force upon the activity of honeſt men; but critical exigencies now and then ariſe; and I am miſtaken, if this be not one of them. Men will ſee the neceſſity of honeſt combination; but they may ſee it when it is too late. They may embody, when it will be ruinous to themſelves, and of no advantage to the country; when, for want of ſuch a timely union as may enable them to oppoſe in favour of the laws, with the laws on their ſide, they may, at length, find themſelves under the neceſſity of conſpiring, [258] inſtead of conſulting. The law, for which they ſtand, may become a weapon in the hands of its bittereſt enemies; and they will be caſt, at length, into that miſerable alternative, between ſlavery and civil confuſion, which no good man can look upon without horrour; an alternative in which it is impoſſible he ſhould take either part, with a conſcience perfectly at repoſe. To keep that ſituation of guilt and remorſe at the utmoſt diſtance, is, therefore, our firſt obligation. Early activity may prevent late and fruitleſs violence. As yet we work in the light. The ſcheme of the enemies of public tranquillity has diſarranged, it has not deſtroyed us.

IF the reader believes that there really exiſts ſuch a faction as I have deſcribed; a faction ruling by the private inclinations of a court, againſt the general ſenſe of the people; and that this faction, whilſt it purſues a ſcheme for undermining all the foundations of our freedom, weakens (for the preſent at leaſt) all the powers of executory government, rendering us abroad contemptible, and at home diſtracted; he will believe alſo, that nothing but a firm combination of public men againſt this body, and that, too, ſupported by the hearty concurrence of the people at large, can poſſibly get the better of it. The people will ſee the neceſſity of reſtoring public men to an attention to the public opinion, and of reſtoring the conſtitution to its original principles. Above all, they will endeavour to keep the houſe of commons from aſſuming a character which does not belong to it. They will endeavour to keep that houſe, for its exiſtence, for its powers, and its privileges, as independent of every other, and as dependent upon themſelves, as poſſible. This ſervitude is to an houſe of commons [259] (like obedience to the Divine law) ‘"perfect freedom."’ For if they once quit this natural, rational, and liberal obedience, having deſerted the only proper foundation of their power, they muſt ſeek a ſupport in an abject and unnatural dependence ſomewhere elſe. When, through the medium of this juſt connexion with their conſtituents, the genuine dignity of the houſe of commons is reſtored, it will begin to think of caſting from it, with ſcorn, as badges of ſervility, all the falſe ornaments of illegal power, with which it has been, for ſometime, diſgraced. It will begin to think of its old office of CONTROUL. It will not ſuffer, that laſt of evils, to predominate in the country; men without popular confidence, public opinion, natural connexion, or mutual truſt, inveſted with all the powers of government.

WHEN they have learned this leſſon themſelves, they will be willing and able to teach the court, that it is the true intereſt of the prince to have but one adminiſtration; and that one compoſed of thoſe who recommend themſelves to their ſovereign through the opinion of their country, and not by their obſequiouſneſs to a favourite. Such men will ſerve their ſovereign with affection and fidelity; becauſe his choice of them, upon ſuch principles, is a compliment to their virtue. They will be able to ſerve him effectually; becauſe they will add the weight of the country to the force of the executory power. They will be able to ſerve their king with dignity; becauſe they will never abuſe his name to the gratification of their private ſpleen or avarice. This, with allowances for human frailty, may probably be the general character of a miniſtry, which [260] thinks itſelf accountable to the houſe of commons; when the houſe of commons thinks itſelf accountable to its conſtituents. If other ideas ſhould prevail, things muſt remain in their preſent confuſion; until they are hurried into all the rage of civil violence; or until they ſink into the dead repoſe of deſpotiſm.

SPEECH ON AMERICAN TAXATION, APRIL 19, 1774.

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PREFACE.

[263]

THE following ſpeech has been much the ſubject of converſation; and the deſire of having it printed was laſt ſummer very general. The means of gratifying the public curioſity were obligingly furniſhed from the notes of ſome gentlemen, members of the laſt parliament.

THIS piece has been for ſome months ready for the preſs. But a delicacy, poſſibly over-ſcrupulous, has delayed the publication to this time. The friends of adminiſtration have been uſe to attribute a great deal of the oppoſition to their meaſures in America to the writings publiſhed in England. The Editor of this ſpeech kept it back, until all the meaſures of government have had their full operation, and can be no longer affected, if ever they could have been affected, by any publication.

MOST readers will recollect the uncommon pains taken at the beginning of the laſt ſeſſion of the laſt parliament, and indeed during the whole courſe of it, to aſperſe the characters, and decry the meaſures, of thoſe who were ſuppoſed to be friends to America; [264] in order to weaken the effect of their oppoſition to the acts of rigour then preparing againſt the colonies. This ſpeech contains a full refutation of the charges againſt that party with which Mr. Burke has all along acted. In doing this, he has taken a review of the effects of all the ſchemes which have been ſucceſſively adopted in the government of the plantations. The ſubject is intereſting; the matters of information various, and important; and the publication at this time, the editor hopes, will not be thought unſeaſonable.

SPEECH ON AMERICAN TAXATION.

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DURING the laſt ſeſſion of the laſt parliament, on the 19th of April, 1774, Mr. Roſe Fuller, member for Rye, made the following motion; that an act made in the ſeventh year of the reign of his preſent Majeſty, intituled, ‘"An act for granting certain duties in the Britiſh colonies and plantations in America; for allowing a drawback of the duties of cuſtoms upon the exportation from this kingdom of Coffee and Cocoa Nuts, of the produce of the ſaid colonies or plantations; for diſcontinuing the drawbacks payable on China Earthen Ware exported to America; and for more effectually preventing the clandeſtine running of goods in the ſaid colonies and plantations;"’ might be read.

AND the ſame being read accordingly; he moved, ‘"That this houſe will, upon this day ſevennight, reſolve itſelf into a committee of the whole houſe, to take into conſideration the duty of 3d. per pound weight upon tea, payable in all his Majeſty's dominions in America, impoſed by the ſaid act; and alſo the appropriation of the ſaid duty."’

ON this latter motion a warm and intereſting debate aroſe, in which Mr. Edmund Burke ſpoke as follows:

[266]
SIR,

I AGREE with the honourable gentlemana who ſpoke laſt, that this ſubject is not new in this houſe. Very diſagreeably to this houſe, very unfortunately to this nation, and to the peace and proſperity of this whole empire, no topic has been more familiar to us. For nine long years, ſeſſion after ſeſſion, we have been laſhed round and round this miſerable circle of occaſional arguments and temporary expedients. I am ſure our heads muſt turn, and our ſtomachs nauſeate with them. We have had them in every ſhape; we have looked at them in every point of view. Invention is exhauſted; reaſon is fatigued; experience has given judgment; but obſtinacy is not yet conquered.

THE hon. gentleman has made one endeavour more to diverſity the form of this diſguſting argument. He has thrown out a ſpeech compoſed almoſt entirely of challenges. Challenges are ſerious things; and as he is a man of prudence as well as reſolution, I dare ſay he has very well weighed thoſe challenges before he delivered them. I had long the happineſs to ſit at the ſame ſide of the houſe, and to agree with the hon. gentleman on all the American queſtions. My ſentiments, I am ſure, are well known to him; and I thought I had been perfectly acquainted with his. Though I find myſelf miſtaken, he will ſtill permit me to uſe the privilege of an old friendſhip; he will permit me to apply myſelf to the houſe under the ſanction of his authority; and, on the various grounds he has meaſured out, to ſubmit to you the poor opinions which I have formed, upon a matter of importance enough to demand the fulleſt conſideration I could beſtow upon it.

[267]He has ſtated to the houſe two grounds of deliberation; one narrow and ſimple, and merely confined to the queſtion on your paper: the other more large and more complicated; comprehending the whole ſeries of the parliamentary proceedings with regard to America, their cauſes, and their conſequences. With regard to the latter ground, he ſtates it as uſeleſs, and thinks it may be even dangerous, to enter into ſo extenſive a field of enquiry. Yet, to my ſurprize, he had hardly laid down this reſtrictive propoſition, to which his authority would have given ſo much weight, when directly, and with the ſame authority, he condemns it; and declares it abſolutely neceſſary to enter into the moſt ample hiſtorical detail. His zeal has thrown him a little out of his uſual accuracy. In this perplexity what ſhall we do, ſir, who are willing to ſubmit to the law he gives us? He has reprobated in one part of his ſpeech the rule he had laid down for debate in the other; and, after narrowing the ground for all thoſe who are to ſpeak after him, he takes an excurſion himſelf, as unbounded as the ſubject and the extent of his great abilities.

SIR, when I cannot obey all his laws, I will do the beſt I can. I will endeavour to obey ſuch of them as have the ſanction of his example; and to ſtick to that rule, which, though not conſiſtent with the other, is the moſt rational. He was certainly in the right when he took the matter largely. I cannot prevail on myſelf to agree with him in his cenſure of his own conduct. It is not, he will give me leave to ſay, either uſeleſs or dangerous. He aſſerts, that retroſpect is not wiſe: and the proper, the only proper, ſubject of enquiry is, ‘"not how we got into this difficulty, but how we are to get out of it."’ In other words, we are, according to him, to conſult our invention, and to reject our [268] experience. The mode of deliberation he recommends is diametrically oppoſite to every rule of reaſon, and every principle of good ſenſe eſtabliſhed amongſt mankind. For, that ſenſe and that reaſon, I have always underſtood, abſolutely to preſcribe, whenever we are involved in difficulties from the meaſures we have purſued, that we ſhould take a ſtrict review of thoſe meaſures, in order to correct our errors if they ſhould be corrigible; or at leaſt to avoid a dull uniformity in miſchief, and the unpitied calamity of being repeatedly caught in the ſame ſnare.

SIR, I will freely follow the hon. gentleman in his hiſtorical diſcuſſion, without the leaſt management for men or meaſures, further than as they ſhall ſeem to me to deſerve it. But before I go into that large conſideration, becauſe I would omit nothing that can give the houſe ſatisfaction, I wiſh to tread the narrow ground to which alone the hon. gentleman, in one part of his ſpeech, has ſo ſtrictly confined us.

HE deſires to know, whether, if we were to repeal this tax, agreeably to the propoſition of the hon. gentleman who made the motion, the Americans would not take poſt on this conceſſion, in order to make a new attack on the next body of taxes; and whether they would not call for a repeal of the duty on wine as loudly as they do now for the repeal of the duty on tea? Sir, I can give no ſecurity on this ſubject. But I will do all that I can, and all that can be fairly demanded. To the experience which the hon. gentleman reprobates in one inſtant, and reverts to in the next; to that experience, without the leaſt wavering or heſitation on my part, I ſteadily appeal; and would to God there was no other arbiter to decide on the vote with which the houſe is to conclude this day!

[269]WHEN parliament repealed the ſtamp act in the year 1766, I affirm, firſt, that the Americans did not in conſequence of this meaſure call upon you to give up the former parliamentary revenue which ſubſiſted in that country; or even any one of the articles which compoſe it. I affirm alſo, that when, departing from the maxims of that repeal, you revived the ſcheme of taxation, and thereby filled the minds of the coloniſts with new jealouſy, and all ſorts of apprehenſions, then it was that they quarrelled with the old taxes, as well as the new; then it was, and not till then, that they queſtioned all the parts of your legiſlative power; and by the battery of ſuch queſtions have ſhaken the ſolid ſtructure of this Empire to its deepeſt foundations.

ON thoſe two propoſitions I ſhall, before I have done, give ſuch convincing, ſuch damning proof, that, however the contrary may be whiſpered in circles, or bawled in news-papers, they never more will dare to raiſe their voices in this houſe. I ſpeak with great confidence. I have reaſon for it. The miniſters are with me. They at leaſt are convinced that the repeal of the ſtamp act had not, and that no repeal can have, the conſequences which the hon. gentleman who defends their meaſures is ſo much alarmed at. To their conduct, I refer him for a concluſive anſwer to his objection. I carry my proof irreſiſtibly into the very body of both miniſtry and parliament; not on any general reaſoning growing out of collateral matter, but on the conduct of the hon. gentleman's miniſterial friends on the new revenue itſelf.

THE act of 1767, which grants this tea duty, ſets forth in its preamble, that it was expedient to raiſe a revenue in America, for the ſupport of the civil government there, as well as for purpoſes ſtill more extenſive. To this ſupport the act aſſigns [270] ſix branches of duties. About two years after this act paſſed, the miniſtry, I mean the preſent miniſtry, thought it expedient to repeal five of the duties, and to leave (for reaſons beſt known to themſelves) only the ſixth ſtanding. Suppoſe any perſon, at the time of that repeal, had thus addreſſed the miniſterb: ‘"Condemning, as you do, the repeal of the ſtamp act, why do you venture to repeal the duties upon glaſs, paper, and painters colours? Let your pretence for the repeal be what it will, are not you thoroughly convinced, that your conceſſions will produce, not ſatisfaction, but inſolence in the Americans; and that the giving up theſe taxes will neceſſitate the giving up of all the reſt?"’ This objection was as palpable then as it is now; and it was as good for preſerving the five duties as for retaining the ſixth. Beſides, the miniſter will recollect, that the repeal of the ſtamp act had but juſt preceded his repeal; and the ill policy of that meaſure (had it been ſo impolitic as it has been repreſented), and the miſchiefs it produced, were quite recent. Upon the principles therefore of the hon. gentleman, upon the principles of the miniſter himſelf, the miniſter has nothing at all to anſwer. He ſtands condemned by himſelf, and by all his aſſociates old and new, as a deſtroyer, in the firſt truſt of finance, of the revenues; and in the firſt rank of honour, as a betrayer of the dignity of his country.

MOST men, eſpecially great men, do not always know their well-wiſhers. I come to reſcue that noble lord out of the hands of thoſe he calls his friends; and even out of his own. I will do him the juſtice, he is denied at home. He has not been this wicked or imprudent man. He knew that a repeal had no tendency to produce the miſchiefs [271] which give ſo much alarm to his honourable friend. His work was not bad in its principle, but imperfect in its execution; and the motion on your paper preſſes him only to compleat a proper plan, which, by ſome unfortunate and unaccountable error, he had left unfiniſhed.

I HOPE, ſir, the hon. gentleman who ſpoke laſt is thoroughly ſatisfied, and ſatisfied out of the proceedings of miniſtry on their own favourite act, that his fears from a repeal are groundleſs. If he is not, I leave him, and the noble lord who ſits by him, to ſettle the matter, as well as they can, together; for if the repeal of American taxes deſtroys all our government in America—He is the man!—and he is the worſt of all the repealers, becauſe he is the laſt.

BUT I hear it rung continually in my ears, now and formerly,— ‘"The preamble! what will become of the preamble, if you repeal this tax?"’ —I am ſorry to be compelled ſo often to expoſe the calamities and diſgraces of parliament. The preamble of this law, ſtanding as it now ſtands, has the lie direct given to it by the proviſionary part of the act; if that can be called proviſionary which makes no proviſion. I ſhould be afraid to expreſs myſelf in this manner, eſpecially in the face of ſuch a formidable array of ability as is now drawn up before me, compoſed of the antient houſehold troops of that ſide of the houſe, and the new recruits from this, if the matter were not clear and indiſputable. Nothing but truth could give me this firmneſs; but plain truth and clear evidence can be beat down by no ability. The clerk will be ſo good as to turn to the act, and to read this favourite preamble:

WHEREAS it is expedient that a revenue ſhould be raiſed in your Majeſty's dominions in America, for [272] making a more certain and adequate proviſion for defraying the charge of the adminiſtration of juſtice, and ſupport of civil government, in ſuch provinces where it ſhall be found neceſſary; and towards further defraying the expences of defending, protecting, and ſecuring the ſaid dominions.’

YOU have heard this pompous performance. Now where is the revenue which is to do all theſe mighty things? Five-ſixths repealed—abandoned—ſunk—gone—loſt for ever. Does the poor ſolitary tea duty ſupport the purpoſes of this preamble? Is not the ſupply there ſtated as effectually abandoned as if the tea duty had periſhed in the general wreck? Here, Mr. Speaker, is a precious mockery—a preamble without an act—taxes granted in order to be repealed—and the reaſons of the grant ſtill carefully kept up! This is raiſing a revenue in America! This is preſerving dignity in England! If you repeal this tax in compliance with the motion, I readily admit that you loſe this fair preamble. Eſtimate your loſs in it. The object of the act is gone already; and all you ſuffer is the purging the Statute-book of the opprobrium of an empty, abſurd, and falſe recital.

IT has been ſaid again and again, that the five taxes were repealed on commercial principles. It is ſo ſaid in the paper in my handc; a paper which I conſtantly carry about; which I have often uſed, and ſhall often uſe again. What is got by this paltry pretence of commercial principles I know not; for, if your government in America is deſtroyed by the repeal of taxes, it is of no conſequence upon what ideas the repeal is grounded. Repeal this tax too upon commercial principles if you [273] pleaſe. Theſe principles will ſerve as well now as they did formerly. But you know that, either your objection to a repeal from theſe ſuppoſed conſequences has no validity, or that this pretence never could remove it. This commercial motive never was believed by any man, either in America, which this letter is meant to ſoothe, or in England, which it is meant to deceive. It was impoſſible it ſhould. Becauſe every man, in the leaſt acquainted with the detail of commerce, muſt know, that ſeveral of the articles on which the tax was repealed were fitter objects of duties than almoſt any other articles that could poſſibly be choſen; without compariſon more ſo, than the Tea that was left taxed; as infinitely leſs liable to be eluded by contraband. The tax upon red and white Lead was of this nature. You have, in this kingdom, an advantage in Lead, that amounts to a monopoly. When you find yourſelf in this ſituation of advantage, you ſometimes venture to tax even your own export. You did ſo, ſoon after the laſt war, when, upon this principle, you ventured to impoſe a duty on coals. In all the articles of American contraband trade, who ever heard of the ſmuggling of red lead, and white lead? You might, therefore, well enough, without danger of contraband, and without injury to commerce (if this were the whole conſideration) have taxed theſe commodities. The ſame may be ſaid of Glaſs. Beſides, ſome of the things taxed were ſo trivial, that the loſs of the objects themſelves, and their utter annihilation out of American commerce, would have been comparatively as nothing. But is the article of Tea ſuch an object in the trade of England, as not to be felt, or felt but ſlightly, like white Lead, and red Lead, and Painters colours? Tea is an object of far other importance. Tea is perhaps the moſt important object, taking it with [274] its neceſſary connections, of any in the mighty circle of our commerce. If commercial principles had been the true motives to the repeal, or had they been at all attended to, Tea would have been the laſt article we ſhould have left taxed for a ſubject of controverſy.

SIR, it is not a pleaſant conſideration; but nothing in the world can read ſo awful and ſo inſtructive a leſſon, as the conduct of miniſtry in this buſineſs, upon the miſchief of not having large and liberal ideas in the management of great affairs. Never have the ſervants of the ſtate looked at the whole of your complicated intereſts in one connected view. They have taken things, by bits and ſcraps, ſome at one time and one pretence, and ſome at another, juſt as they preſſed, without any ſort of regard to their relations or dependencies They never had any kind of ſyſtem, right or wrong; but only invented occaſionally ſome miſerable tale for the day, in order meanly to ſneak out of difficulties, into which they had proudly ſtrutted. And they were put to all theſe ſhifts and devices, full of meanneſs and full of miſchief, in order to pilſer piecemeal a repeal of an act, which they had not the generous courage, when they found and felt their error, honourably and fairly to diſclaim. By ſuch management, by the irreſiſtible operation of ſceble councils, ſo paltry a ſum as three-pence in the eyes of a financier, ſo inſignificant an article as tea in the eyes of a philoſopher, have ſhaken the pillars of a commercial empire that circled the whole globe.

Do you forget that, in the very laſt year, you ſtood on the precipice of general bankruptcy? Your danger was indeed great. You were diſtreſſed in the affairs of the Eaſt India company; and you well know what ſort of things are involved in the comprehenſive energy of that ſignificant apellation. [275] I am not called upon to enlarge to you on that danger, which you thought proper yourſelves to aggravate, and to diſplay to the world with all the parade of indiſcreet declamation. The monopoly of the moſt lucrative trades, and the poſſeſſion of imperial revenues, had brought you to the verge of beggary and ruin. Such was your repreſentation—ſuch, in ſome meaſure, was your caſe. The vent of ten millions of pounds of this commodity, now locked up by the operation of an injudicious tax, and rotting in the warehouſes of the company, would have prevented all this diſtreſs, and all that ſeries of deſperate meaſures which you thought yourſelves obliged to take in conſequence of it. America would have furniſhed that vent, which no other part of the world can furniſh but America; where Tea is next to a neceſſary of life; and where the demand grows upon the ſupply. I hope our dear-bought Eaſt India committees have done us at leaſt ſo much good, as to let us know, that without a more extenſive ſale of that article our Eaſt India revenues and acquiſitions can have no certain connection with this country. It is through the American trade of tea that your Eaſt India conqueſts are to be prevented from cruſhing you with their burthen. They are ponderous indeed; and they muſt have that great country to lean upon, or they tumble upon your head. It is the ſame folly that has loſt you at once the benefit of the Weſt and of the Eaſt. This folly has thrown open folding-doors to contraband; and will be the means of giving the profits of the trade of your colonies, to every nation but yourſelves. Never did a people ſuffer ſo much for the empty words of a preamble. It muſt be given up. For on what principle does it ſtand? This famous revenue ſtands, at this hour, on all the debate, as a deſcription of revenue not as yet known in all the comprehenſive (but too comprehenſive!) vocabulary of finance—a preambulary tax. It is indeed a [276] tax of ſophiſtry, a tax of pedantry, a tax of diſputation, a tax of war and rebellion, a tax for any thing but benefit to the impoſers, or ſatisfaction to the ſubject.

WELL! but whatever it is, gentlemen will force the coloniſts to take the Teas. You will force them? has ſeven years ſtruggle been yet able to force them? Oh, but it ſeems ‘"we are in the right.—The tax is trifling—in effect it is rather an exoneration than an impoſition; three-fourths of the duty formerly payable on Teas exported to America is taken off; the place of collection is only ſhifted; inſtead of the retention of a ſhilling from the draw-back here, it is three-pence cuſtom paid in America."’ All this, ſir, is very true. But this is the very folly and miſchief of the act. Incredible as it may ſeem, you know that you have deliberately thrown away a large duty which you held ſecure and quiet in your hands, for the vain hope of getting one three-fourths leſs, through every hazard, through certain litigation, and poſſibly through war.

THE manner of proceeding in the duties on paper and glaſs, impoſed by the ſame act, was exactly in the ſame ſpirit. There are heavy exciſes on thoſe articles when uſed in England. On export theſe exciſes are drawn back. But inſtead of withholding the draw-back, which might have been done, with eaſe, without charge, without poſſibility of ſmuggling; and inſtead of applying the money (money already in your hands) according to your pleaſure, you began your operations in finance by flinging away your revenue; you allowed the whole draw-back on export, and then you charged the duty, (which you had before diſcharged,) payable in the colonies; where it was certain the collection [277] would devour it to the bone; if any revenue were ever ſuffered to be collected at all. One ſpirit pervades and animates the whole maſs.

COULD any thing be a ſubject of more juſt alarm to America, than to ſee you go out of the plain high road of finance, and give up your moſt certain revenues and your cleareſt intereſts, merely for the ſake of inſulting your colonies? No man ever doubted that the commodity of Tea could bear an impoſition of three-pence. But no commodity will bear three-pence, or will bear a penny, when the general feelings of men are irritated, and two millions of people are reſolved not to pay. The feelings of the Colonies were formerly the feelings of Great Britain. Theirs were formerly the feelings of Mr. Hampden when called upon for the payment of twenty ſhillings. Would twenty ſhillings have ruined Mr. Hampden's fortune? No! but the payment of half twenty ſhillings, on the principle it was demanded, would have made him a ſlave, It is the weight of that preamble, of which you are ſo fond, and not the weight of the duty, that the Americans are unable and unwilling to bear.

IT is then, ſir, upon the principle of this meaſure, and nothing elſe, that we are at iſſue. It is a principle of political expediency. Your act of 1767 aſſerts, that it is expedient to raiſe a revenue in America; your act of 1769, which takes away that revenue, contradicts the act of 1767; and, by ſomething much ſtronger than words, aſſerts, that it is not expedient. It is a reflection upon your wiſdom to perſiſt in a ſolemn parliamentary declaration of the expediency of any object, for which, at the ſame time, you make no ſort of proviſion. And pray, ſir, let not this circumſtance eſcape you; it is very material; that the preamble of [278] this act, which we wiſh to repeal, is not declaratory of a right, as ſome gentlemen ſeem to argue it; it is only a recital of the expediency of a certain exerciſe of a right ſuppoſed already to have been aſſerted; an exerciſe you are now contending for by ways and means, which you confeſs, though they were obeyed, to be utterly inſufficient for their purpoſe. You are therefore at this moment in the aukward ſituation of fighting for a phantom; a quiddity; a thing that wants, not only a ſubſtance, but even a name; for a thing, which is neither abſtract right, nor profitable enjoyment.

THEY tell you, ſir, that your dignity is tied to it. I know not how it happens, but this dignity of yours is a terrible incumbrance to you; for it has of late been ever at war with your intereſt, your equity, and every idea of your policy. Shew the thing you contend for to be reaſon; ſhew it to be common ſenſe; ſhew it to be the means of attaining ſome uſeful end; and then I am content to allow it what dignity you pleaſe. But what dignity is derived from the perſeverance in abſurdity is more than ever I could diſcern. The hon. gentleman has ſaid well—indeed, in moſt of his general obſervations I agree with him—he ſays, that this ſubject does not ſtand as it did formerly. Oh, certainly not! every hour you continue on this illchoſen ground, your difficulties thicken on you; and therefore my concluſion is, remove from a bad poſition as quickly as you can. The diſgrace, and the neceſſity of yielding, both of them, grow upon you every hour of your delay.

BUT will you repeal the act, ſays the hon. gentleman, at this inſtant when America is in open reſiſtance to your authority, and that you have juſt revived your ſyſtem of taxation? He thinks he has driven us into a corner. But thus pent up, I am [279] content to meet him; becauſe I enter the liſts ſupported by my old authority, his new friends, the miniſters themſelves. The hon. gentleman remembers, that about five years ago as great diſturbances as the preſent prevailed in America on account of the new taxes. The miniſters repreſented theſe diſturbances as treaſonable; and this houſe thought proper, on that repreſentation, to make a famous addreſs for a revival, and for a new application, of a ſtatute of H. VIII. We beſought the king, in that well-conſidered addreſs, to inquire into treaſons, and to bring the ſuppoſed traitors from America to Great Britain for trial. His majeſty was pleaſed graciouſly to promiſe a compliance with our requeſt. All the attempts from this ſide of the houſe to reſiſt theſe violences, and to bring about a repeal, were treated with the utmoſt ſcorn. An apprehenſion of the very conſequences now ſtated by the hon. gentleman, was then given as a reaſon for ſhutting the door againſt all hope of ſuch an alteration. And ſo ſtrong was the ſpirit for ſupporting the new taxes, that the ſeſſion concluded with the following remarkable declaration. After ſtating the vigorous meaſures which had been purſued, the ſpeech from the throne proceeds:

YOU have aſſured me of your firm ſupport in the proſecution of them. Nothing, in my opinion, could be more likely to enable the well-diſpoſed among my ſubjects in that part of the world, effectually to diſcourage and defeat the deſigns of the factious and ſeditious, than the hearty concurrence of every branch of the legiſlature, in maintaining the execution of the laws in every part of my dominions.

AFTER this no man dreamt that a repeal under this miniſtry could poſſibly take place. The hon. gentleman knows as well as I, that the idea was [280] utterly exploded by thoſe who ſway the houſe. This ſpeech was made on the ninth day of May, 1769. Five days after this ſpeech, that is, on the 13th of the ſame month, the public circular letter, a part of which I am going to read to you, was written by lord Hillſborough, ſecretary of ſtate for the colonies. After reciting the ſubſtance of the king's ſpeech, he goes on thus:

"I CAN take upon me to aſſure you, notwithſtanding inſinuations to the contrary, from men with factious and ſeditious views, that his majeſty's preſent adminiſtration have at no time entertained a deſign to propoſe to parliament to lay any further taxes upon America, for the purpoſe of RAISING A REVENUE; and that it is at preſent their intention to propoſe, the next ſeſſion of parliament, to take off the duties upon glaſs, paper, and colours, upon conſideration of ſuch duties having been laid contrary to the true principles of commerce."

"THESE have always been, and ſtill are, the ſentiments of his majeſty's preſent ſervants; and by which their conduct in reſpect to America has been governed. And his majeſty relies upon your prudence and fidelity for ſuch an explanation of his meaſures, as may tend to remove the prejudices which have been excited by the miſrepreſentations of thoſe who are enemies to the peace and proſperity of Great Britain and her colonies; and to re-eſtabliſh that mutual confidence and affection, upon which the glory and ſafety of the Britiſh empire depend."

HERE, ſir, is a canonical book of miniſterial ſcripture; the general epiſtle to the Americans. What does the gentleman ſay to it? Here a repeal is promiſed; promiſed without condition; and while your authority was actually reſiſted. I paſs [281] by the public promiſe of a peer relative to the repeal of taxes by this houſe. I paſs by the uſe of the king's name in a matter of ſupply, that ſacred and reſerved right of the commons. I conceal the ridiculous figure of parliament, hurling its thunders at the gigantic rebellion of America; and then five days after, proſtrate at the feet of thoſe aſſemblies we affected to deſpiſe; begging them, by the intervention of our miniſterial ſureties, to receive our ſubmiſſion; and heartily promiſing amendment. Theſe might have been ſerious matters formerly; but we are grown wiſer than our fathers. Paſſing, therefore, from the conſtitutional conſideration to the mere policy, does not this letter imply, that the idea of taxing America for the purpoſe of revenue is an abominable project; when the miniſtry ſuppoſe none but factious men, and with ſeditious views, could charge them with it? does not this letter adopt and ſanctify the American diſtinction of taxing for a revenue? does it not formally reject all future taxation on that principle? does it not ſtate the miniſterial rejection of ſuch principle of taxation, not as the occaſional, but the conſtant opinion of the king's ſervants? does it not ſay (I care not how conſiſtently), but does it not ſay, that their conduct with regard to America has been always governed by this policy? It goes a great deal further. Theſe excellent and truſty ſervants of the king, juſtly fearful leſt they themſelves ſhould have loſt all credit with the world, bring out the image of their gracious ſovereign from the inmoſt and moſt ſacred ſhrine, and they pawn him, as a ſecurity for their promiſes— ‘"His majeſty relies on your prudence and fidelity for ſuch an explanation of his meaſures."’ Theſe ſentiments of the miniſter, and theſe meaſures of his majeſty, can only relate to the principle and practice of taxing for a revenue; and accordingly [282] lord Botetourt, ſtating it as ſuch, did with great propriety, and in the exact ſpirit of his inſtructions, endeavour to remove the fears of the Virginian aſſembly, leſt the ſentiments, which it ſeems (unknown to the world) had always been thoſe of the miniſters, and by which their conduct in reſpect to America had been governed, ſhould by ſome poſſible revolution, favourable to wicked American taxers, be hereafter counteracted. He addreſſes them in this manner:

IT may poſſibly be objected, that as his majeſty's preſent adminiſtration are not immortal, their ſucceſſors may be inclined to attempt to undo what the preſent miniſters ſhall have attempted to perform; and to that objection I can give but this anſwer: that it is my firm opinion, that the plan I have ſtated to you will certainly take place, and that it will never be departed from; and ſo determined am I for ever to abide by it, that I will be content to be declared infamous, if I do not, to the laſt hour of my life, at all times, in all places, and upon all occaſions, exert every power with which I either am, or ever ſhall be legally inveſted, in order to obtain and maintain for the continent of America that ſatisfaction which I have been authoriſed to promiſe this day, by the confidential ſervants of our gracious ſovereign, who to my certain knowledge rates his honour ſo high, that he would rather part with his crown, than preſerve it by deceit.d

[283]A GLORIOUS and true character! which (ſince we ſuffer his miniſters with impunity to anſwer for his ideas of taxation) we ought to make it our buſineſs to enable his majeſty to preſerve in all its luſtre. Let him have character, ſince ours is no more! Let ſome part of government be kept in reſpect!

THIS epiſtle was not the letter of lord Hillſborough ſolely; though he held the official pen. It was the letter of the noble lord upon the floor,e and of all the king's then miniſters, who (with I think the exception of two only) are his miniſters at this hour. The very firſt news that a Britiſh parliament heard of what it was to do with the duties which it had given and granted to the king, was by the publication of the votes of American aſſemblies. It was in America that your reſolutions were pre-declared. It was from thence that we knew to a certainty, how much exactly, and not a ſcruple more or leſs, we were to repeal. We were unworthy to be let into the ſecret of our own conduct. The aſſemblies had confidential communications from his majeſty's confidential ſervants. We were nothing but inſtruments. Do you, after this, wonder that you have no weight and no reſpect in the colonies? After this, are you ſurprized, that prrliament is every day and every where loſing (I feel it with ſorrow, I utter it with reluctance) that reverential affection, which ſo endearing a name of authority ought ever to carry with it; that you are obeyed ſolely from reſpect to the bayonet; [284] and that this houſe, the ground and pillar of freedom, is itſelf held up only by the treacherous under-pinning and clumſy buttreſſes of arbitrary power?

IF this dignity, which is to ſtand in the place of juſt policy and common ſenſe, had been conſulted, there was a time for preſerving it, and for reconciling it with any conceſſion. If in the ſeſſion of 1768, that ſeſſion of idle terror and empty menaces, you had, as you were often preſſed to do, repealed theſe taxes; then your ſtrong operations would have come juſtified and enforced, in caſe your conceſſions had been returned by outrages. But, prepoſterouſly, you began with violence; and before terrors could have any effect, either good or bad, your miniſters immediately begged pardon, and promiſed that repeal to the obſtinate Americans which they had refuſed in an eaſy, good-natured, complying Britiſh parliament. The aſſemblies, which had been publicly and avowedly diſſolved for their contumacy, are called together to receive your ſubmiſſion. Your miniſterial directors bluſtered like tragic tyrants here; and then went mumping with a ſore leg in America, canting, and whining, and complaining of faction, which repreſented them as friends to a revenue from the colonies. I hope nobody in this houſe will hereafter have the impudence to defend American taxes in the name of miniſtry. The moment they do, with this letter of attorney in my hand, I will tell them, in the authoriſed terms, they are wretches, ‘"with factious and ſeditious views: enemies to the peace and proſperity of the mother country and the colonies," and ſubverters "of the mutual affection and confidence on which the glory and ſafety of the Britiſh empire depend."’

[285]AFTER this letter, the queſtion is no more on propriety or dignity. They are gone already. The faith of your ſovereign is pledged for the political principle. The general declaration in the letter goes to the whole of it. You muſt therefore either abandon the ſcheme of taxing; or you muſt ſend the miniſters tarred and feathered to America; who dared to hold out the royal faith for a renunciation of all taxes for revenue. Them you, muſt puniſh, or this faith you muſt preſerve. The preſervation of this faith is of more conſequence than the duties on red lead, or white lead, or on broken glaſs, or atlas ordinary, or demi-fine, or blue-royal, or baſtard, or fool's-cap, which you have given up; or the three pence on tea which you retained. The letter went ſtampt with the public authority of this kingdom. The inſtructions for the colony government go under no other ſanction; and America cannot believe, and will not obey you, if you do not preſerve this channel of communication ſacred. You are now puniſhing the colonies for acting on diſtinctions, held out by that very miniſtry which is here ſhining in riches, in favour, and in power; and urging the puniſhment of the very offence, to which they had themſelves been the tempters.

SIR, if reaſons reſpecting ſimply your own commerce, which is your own convenience, were the ſole grounds of the repeal of the five duties; why does lord Hillſborough, in diſclaiming in the name of the king and miniſtry their ever had having an intent to tax for revenue, mention it as the means ‘"of re-eſtabliſhing the confidence and affection of the colonies?"’ Is it a way of ſoothing others, to aſſure them that you will take good care of yourſelf? The medium, the only medium, for regaining their affection and confidence, is, that you will [286] take off ſomething oppreſſive to their minds. Sir, the letter ſtrongly enforces that idea; for though the repeal of the taxes is promiſed on commercial principles, yet the means of counteracting ‘"the inſinuations of men with factious and ſeditious views,"’ is by a diſclaimer of the intention of taxing for revenue, as a conſtant invariable ſentiment and rule of conduct in the government of America.

I REMEMBER that the noble lord on the floor, not in a former debate to be ſure (it would be diſorderly to refer to it, I ſuppoſe I read it ſomewhere), but the noble lord was pleaſed to ſay, that he did not conceive how it could enter into the head of man to impoſe ſuch taxes as thoſe of 1767; I mean thoſe taxes which he voted for impoſing, and voted for repealing; as being taxes, contrary to all the principles of commerce, laid on Britiſh manufactures.

I DARE ſay the noble lord is perfectly well read, becauſe the duty of his particular office requires he ſhould be ſo, in all our revenue laws; and in the policy which is to be collected out of them. Now, ſir, when he had read this act of American revenue, and a little recovered from his aſtoniſhment, I ſuppoſe he made one ſtep retrograde (it is but one) and looked at the act which ſtands juſt before in the ſtatute book. The American revenue act is the forty-fifth chapter; the other to which I refer is the forty-fourth of the ſame ſeſſion. Theſe two acts are both to the ſame purpoſe; both revenue acts; both taxing out of the kingdom; and both taxing Britiſh manufactures exported. As the 45th is an act for raiſing a revenue in America, the 44th is an act for raiſing a revenue in the Iſle of Man. The two acts perfectly agree in all reſpects, except one. In the act for taxing the Iſle of Man, the [287] noble lord will find (not, as in the American act, four or five articles) but almoſt the whole body of Britiſh manufactures, taxed from two and an half to fifteen per cent. and ſome articles, ſuch as that of ſpirits, a great deal higher. You did not think it uncommercial to tax the whole maſs of your manufactures, and, let me add, your agriculture too; for, I now recollect, Britiſh corn is there alſo taxed up to ten per cent. and this too in the very headquarters, the very citadel of ſmuggling, the Iſle of Man. Now will the noble lord condeſcend to tell me why he repealed the taxes on your manufactures ſent out to America, and not the taxes on the manufactures exported to the Iſle of Man? The principle was exactly the ſame, the objects charged infinitely more extenſive, the duties without compariſon higher. Why? why, notwithſtanding all his childiſh pretexts, becauſe the taxes were quietly ſubmitted to in the Iſle of Man; and becauſe they raiſed a flame in America. Your reaſons were political, not commercial. The repeal was made, as lord Hillſborough's letter well expreſſes it, to regain ‘"the confidence and affection of the colonies, on which the glory and ſafety of the Britiſh empire depend."’ A wiſe and juſt motive ſurely, if ever there was ſuch. But the miſchief and diſhonour is, that you have not done what you had given the colonies juſt cauſe to expect, when your miniſters diſclaimed the idea of taxes for a revenue. There is nothing ſimple, nothing manly, nothing ingenuous, open, deciſive, or ſteady, in the proceeding, with regard either to the continuance or the repeal of the taxes. The whole has an air of littleneſs and fraud. The article of tea is ſlurred over in the circular letter, as it were by accident—nothing is ſaid of a reſolution either to keep that tax, or to give it up. There is no fair dealing in any part of the tranſaction.

[288]IF you mean to follow your true motive and your public faith, give up your tax on tea for raiſing a revenue, the principle of which has, in effect, been diſclaimed in your name; and which produces you no advantages; no, not a penny. Or, if you chooſe to go on with a poor pretence inſtead of a ſolid reaſon, and will ſtill adhere to your cant of commerce, you have ten thouſand times more ſtrong commercial reaſons for giving up this duty on tea, than for abandoning the five others that you have already renounced.

THE American conſumption of teas is annually, I believe, worth 300,000l. at the leaſt farthing. If you urge the American violence as a juſtification of your perſeverance in enforcing this tax, you know that you can never anſwer this plain queſtion—Why did you repeal the others given in the ſame act, whilſt the very ſame violence ſubſiſted? But you did not find the violence ceaſe upon that conceſſion.—No! becauſe the conceſſion was far ſhort of ſatisfying the principle which lord Hillſborough had abjured; or even the pretence on which the repeal of the other taxes was announced: and becauſe, by enabling the Eaſt India company to open a ſhop for defeating the American reſolution not to pay that ſpecific tax, you manifeſtly ſhewed a hankering after the principle of the act which you formerly had renounced. Whatever road you take leads to a compliance with this motion. It opens to you at the end of every viſta. Your commerce, your policy, your promiſes, your reaſons, your pretences, your conſiſtency, your inconſiſtency—all jointly oblige you to this repeal.

BUT ſtill it ſticks in our throats, if we go ſo far, the Americans will go farther.—We do not know that. We ought, from experience, rather to preſume the contrary. Do we not know for certain, [289] that the Americans are going on as faſt as poſſible, whilſt we refuſe to gratify them? can they do more, or can they do worſe, if we yield this point? I think this conceſſion will rather fix a turnpike to prevent their further progreſs. It is impoſſible to anſwer for bodies of men. But I am ſure the natural effect of fidelity, clemency, kindneſs in governors, is peace, good-will, order, and eſteem, on the part of the governed. I would certainly, at leaſt, give theſe fair principles a fair trial; which, ſince the making of this act to this hour, they never have had.

SIR, The hon. gentleman having ſpoken what he thought neceſſary upon the narrow part of the ſubject, I have given him, I hope, a ſatisfactory anſwer. He next preſſes me by a variety of direct challenges and oblique reflexions to ſay ſomething on the hiſtorical part. I ſhall therefore, ſir, open myſelf fully on that important and delicate ſubject; not for the ſake of telling you a long ſtory (which, I know, Mr. Speaker, you are not particularly fond of), but for the ſake of the weighty inſtruction that, I flatter myſelf, will neceſſarily reſult from it. It ſhall not be longer, if I can help it, than ſo ſerious a matter requires.

PERMIT me then, ſir, to lead your attention very far back; back to the act of navigation; the corner-ſtone of the policy of this country with regard to its colonies. Sir, that policy was, from the beginning, purely commercial; and the commercial ſyſtem was wholly reſtrictive. It was the ſyſtem of a monopoly. No trade was let looſe from that conſtraint, but merely to enable the coloniſts to diſpoſe of what, in the courſe of your trade, you could not take; or to enable them to diſpoſe of ſuch articles as we forced upon them, and for which, without ſome degree of liberty, they could not pay. Hence all [290] your ſpecific and detailed enumerations: hence the innumerable checks and counter-checks: hence that infinite variety of paper chains by which you bind together this complicated ſyſtem of the Colonies. This principle of commercial monopoly runs through no leſs than twenty-nine acts of parliament, from the year 1660 to the unfortunate period of 1764.

IN all thoſe acts the ſyſtem of commerce is eſtabliſhed, as that, from whence alone you propoſed to make the Colonies contribute (I mean directly and by the operation of your ſuperintending legiſlative power) to the ſtrength of the empire. I venture to ſay, that during that whole period, a parliamentary revenue from thence was never once in contemplation. Accordingly in all the number of laws paſſed with regard to the plantations, the words which diſtinguiſh revenue laws, ſpecifically as ſuch, were, I think, premeditately avoided. I do not ſay, ſir, that a form of words alters the nature of the law, or abridges the power of the lawgiver. It certainly does not. However, titles and formal preambles are not always idle words; and the lawyers frequently argue from them. I ſtate theſe facts to ſhew, not what was your right, but what has been your ſettled policy. Our revenue laws have uſually a title, purporting their being grants; and the words give and grant uſually precede the enacting parts. Although duties were impoſed on America in acts of king Charles the ſecond, and in acts of king William, no one title of giving ‘"an aid to his majeſty,"’ or any other of the uſual titles to revenue acts, was to be found in any of them till 1764; nor were the words ‘"give and grant"’ in any preamble until the 6th of George the ſecond. However, the title of this act of George the ſecond, notwithſtanding the words of [291] donation, conſiders it merely as a regulation of trade, ‘"An act for the better ſecuring of the trade of his majeſty's ſugar colonies in America."’ This act was made on a compromiſe of all, and at the expreſs deſire of a part, of the colonies themſelves. It was therefore in ſome meaſure with their conſent; and having a title directly purporting only a commercial regulation, and being in truth nothing more, the words were paſſed by, at a time when no jealouſy was entertained, and things were little ſcrutinized. Even governor Bernard, in his ſecond printed letter, dated in 1763, gives it as his opinion, that, ‘"it was an act of prohibition, not of revenue."’ This is certainly true; that no act avowedly for the purpoſe of revenue, and with the ordinary title and recital taken together, is found in the ſtatute book until the year I have mentioned; that is, the year 1764. All before this period ſtood on commercial regulation and reſtraint. The ſcheme of a colony revenue by Britiſh authority appeared therefore to the Americans in the light of a great innovation. The words of governor Bernard's ninth letter, written in November 1765, ſtate this idea very ſtrongly; ‘"it muſt," ſays he, "have been ſuppoſed, ſuch an innovation as a parliamentary taxation, would cauſe a great alarm, and meet with much oppoſition in moſt parts of America; it was quite new to the people, and had no viſible bounds ſet to it."’ After ſtating the weakneſs of government there, he ſays, ‘"was this a time to introduce ſo great a novelty as a parliamentary inland taxation in America?"’ Whatever the right might have been, this mode of uſing it was abſolutely new in policy and practice.

SIR, they who are friends to the ſchemes of American revenue ſay, that the commercial reſtraint is full as hard a law for America to live under. [292] I think ſo too. I think it, if uncompenſated, to be a condition of as rigorous ſervitude as men can be ſubject to. But America bore it from the fundamental act of navigation until 1764.—Why? Becauſe men do bear the inevitable conſtitution of original nature with all its infirmities. The act of navigation attended the Colonies from their infancy, grew with their growth, and ſtrengthened with their ſtrength. They were confirmed in obedience to it, even more by uſage than by law. They ſcarcely had remembered a time when they were not ſubject to ſuch reſtraint. Beſides, they were indemnified for it by a pecuniary compenſation. Their monopoliſt happened to be one of the richeſt men in the world. By his immenſe capital (primarily employed, not for their benefit, but his own) they were enabled to proceed with their fiſheries, their agriculture, their ſhip-building (and their trade too within the limits), in ſuch a manner as got far the ſtart of the ſlow languid operations of unaſſiſted nature. This capital was a hot-bed to them. Nothing in the hiſtory of mankind is like their progreſs. For my part, I never caſt an eye on their flouriſhing commerce, and their cultivated and commodious life, but they ſeem to me rather ancient nations grown to perfection through a long ſeries of fortunate events, and a train of ſucceſsful induſtry, accumulating wealth in many centuries, than the Colonies of yeſterday; than a ſet of miſerable out-caſts, a few years ago, not ſo much ſent as thrown out, on the bleak and barren ſhore of a deſolate wilderneſs three thouſand miles from all civilized intercourſe.

ALL this was done by England, whilſt England purſued trade, and forgot revenue. You not only acquired commerce, but you actually created the very objects of trade in America; and by that [293] creation you raiſed the trade of this kingdom at leaſt four-fold. America had the compenſation of your capital, which made her bear her ſervitude. She had another compenſation, which you are now going to take away from her. She had, except the commercial reſtraint, every characteriſtic mark of a free people in all her internal concerns. She had the image of the Britiſh conſtitution. She had the ſubſtance. She was taxed by her own repreſentatives. She choſe moſt of her own repreſentatives. She paid them all. She had in effect the ſole diſpoſal of her own internal government. This whole ſtate of commercial ſervitude and civil liberty, taken together, is certainly not perfect freedom; but, comparing it with the ordinary circumſtances of human nature, it was an happy and a liberal condition.

I KNOW, ſir, that great and not unſucceſsful pains have been taken to inflame our minds by an outery, in this houſe and out of it, that in America the act of navigation neither is, or ever was, obeyed. But if you take the colonies through, I affirm, that its authority never was diſputed; that it was no where diſputed for any length of time; and on the whole, that it was well obſerved. Wherever the act preſſed hard, many individuals indeed evaded it. This is nothing. Theſe ſcattered individuals never denied the law, and never obeyed it. Juſt as it happens whenever the laws of trade, whenever the laws of revenue, preſs hard upon the people in England; in that caſe all your ſhores are full of contraband. Your right to give a monopoly to the Eaſt India company, your right to lay immenſe duties on French brandy, are not diſputed in England. You do not make this charge on any man. But you know that there is not a creek from Pentland Frith to the Iſle of Wight, [294] in which they do not ſmuggle immenſe quantities of Teas, Eaſt India goods, and brandies. I take it for granted, that the authority of governor Bernard in this point is indiſputable. Speaking of theſe laws, as they regarded that part of America now in ſo unhappy a condition, he ſays, ‘"I believe they are no where better ſupported than in this province: I do not pretend that it is entirely free from a breach of theſe laws; but that ſuch a breach, if diſcovered, is juſtly puniſhed."’ What more can you ſay of the obedience to any laws in any country? An obedience to theſe laws formed the acknowledgment, inſtituted by yourſelves, for your ſuperiority; and was the payment you originally impoſed for your protection.

WHETHER you were right or wrong in eſtabliſhing the colonies on the principles of commercial monopoly, rather than on that of revenue, is at this day a problem of mere ſpeculation. You cannot have both by the ſame authority. To join together the reſtraints of an univerſal internal and external monopoly, with an univerſal internal and external taxation, is an unnatural union; perfect uncompenſated ſlavery. You have long ſince decided for yourſelf and them; and you and they have proſpered exceedingly under that deciſion.

THIS nation, ſir, never thought of departing from that choice until the period immediately on the cloſe of the laſt war. Then a ſcheme of government new in many things ſeemed to have been adopted. I ſaw, or thought I ſaw, ſeveral ſymptoms of a great change, whilſt I ſat in your gallery, a good while before I had the honour of a ſeat in this houſe. At that period the neceſſity was eſtabliſhed of keeping up no leſs than twenty new regiments, with twenty colonels capable of ſeats in this houſe. This ſcheme was adopted with very [295] general applauſe from all ſides, at the very time that, by your conqueſts in America, your danger from foreign attempts in that part of the world was much leſſened, or indeed rather quite over. When this huge increaſe of military eſtabliſhment was reſolved on, a revenue was to be found to ſupport ſo great a burthen. Country gentlemen, the great patrons of oeconomy, and the great reſiſters of a ſtanding armed force, would not have entered with much alacrity into the vote for ſo large and ſo expenſive an army, if they had been very ſure that they were to continue to pay for it. But hopes of another kind were held out to them; and in particular, I well remember, that Mr. Townſhend, in a brilliant harangue on this ſubject, did dazzle them, by playing before their eyes the image of a revenue to be raiſed in America.

HERE began to dawn the firſt glimmerings of this new Colony ſyſtem. It appeared more diſtinctly afterwards, when it was devolved upon a perſon to whom, on other accounts, this country owes very great obligations. I do believe, that he had a very ſerious deſire to benefit the public. But with no ſmall ſtudy of the detail, he did not ſeem to have his view, at leaſt equally, carried to the total circuit of our affairs. He generally conſidered his objects in lights that were rather too detached. Whether the buſineſs of an American revenue was impoſed upon him altogether; whether it was entirely the reſult of his own ſpeculation; or, what is more probable, that his own ideas rather coincided with the inſtructions he had received; certain it is, that, with the beſt intentions in the world, he firſt brought this fatal ſcheme into form, and eſtabliſhed it by act of parliament.

NO man can believe, that at this time of day I mean to lean on the venerable memory of a great [296] man, whoſe loſs we deplore in common. Our little party-differences have been along ago compoſed; and I have acted more with him, and certainly with more pleaſure with him, than ever I acted againſt him. Undoubtedly Mr. Grenville was a firſt-rate figure in this country. With a maſculine underſtanding, and a ſtout and reſolute heart, he had an application undiſſipated and unwearied. He took public buſineſs, not as a duty which he was to fulfil, but as a pleaſure he was to enjoy; and he ſeemed to have no delight out of this houſe, except in ſuch things as ſome way related to the buſineſs that was to be done within it. If he was ambitious, I will ſay this for him, his ambition was of a noble and generous ſtrain. It was to raiſe himſelf, not by the low pimping politics of a court, but to win his way to power, through the laborious gradations of public ſervice; and to ſecure to himſelf a well-earned rank in parliament, by a thorough knowledge of its conſtitution, and a perfect practice in all its buſineſs.

SIR, if ſuch a man fell into errors, it muſt be from defects not intrinſical; they muſt be rather ſought in the particular habits of his life; which, though they do not alter the ground-work of character, yet tinge it with their own hue. He was bred in a profeſſion. He was bred to the law, which is, in my opinion, one of the firſt and nobleſt of human ſciences: a ſcience which does more to quicken and invigorate the underſtanding, than all the other kinds of learning put together; but it is not apt, except in perſons very happily born, to open and to liberalize the mind exactly in the ſame proportion. Paſſing from that ſtudy he did not go very largely into the world; but plunged into buſineſs; I mean into the buſineſs of office; and the limited and fixed methods and forms eſtabliſhed there. [297] Much knowledge is to be had undoubtedly in that line; and there is no knowledge which is not valuable. But it may be truly ſaid, that men too much converſant in office are rarely minds of remarkable enlargement. Their habits of office are apt to give them a turn to think the ſubſtance of buſineſs not to be much more important than the forms in which it is conducted. Theſe forms are adapted to ordinary occaſions; and therefore perſons who are nurtured in office do admirably well, as long as things go on in their common order; but when the high roads are broken up, and the waters out, when a new and troubled ſcene is opened, and the file affords no precedent, then it is that a greater knowledge of mankind, and a far more extenſive comprehenſion of things, is requiſite than ever office gave, or than office can ever give. Mr. Grenville thought better of the wiſdom and power of human legiſlation than in truth it deſerves. He conceived, and many conceived along with him, that the flouriſhing trade of this country was greatly owing to law and inſtitution, and not quite ſo much to liberty; for but too many are apt to believe regulation to be commerce, and taxes to be revenue. Among regulations, that which ſtood firſt in reputation was his idol. I mean the act of navigation. He has often profeſſed it to be ſo. The policy of that act is, I readily admit, in many reſpects well underſtood. But I do ſay, that, if the act be ſuffered to run the full length of its principle, and is not changed and modified according to the change of times and the fluctuation of circumſtances, it muſt do great miſchief, and frequently even defeat its own purpoſe.

AFTER the war, and in the laſt year of it, the trade of America had encreaſed far beyond the ſpeculations of the moſt ſanguine imagination. It [298] ſwelled out on every ſide. It filled all its proper channels to the brim. It overflowed with a rich redundance, and, breaking its banks on the right and on the left, it ſpread out upon ſome places, where it was indeed improper, upon others where it was only irregular. It is the nature of all greatneſs not to be exact; and great trade will always be attended with conſiderable abuſes. The contraband will always keep pace in ſome meaſure with the fair trade. It ſhould ſtand as a fundamental maxim, that no vulgar precaution ought to be employed in the cure of evils, which are cloſely connected with the cauſe of our proſperity. Perhaps this great perſon turned his eyes ſomewhat leſs than was juſt, towards the incredible increaſe of the fair trade; and looked with ſomething of too exquiſite a jealouſy towards the contraband. He certainly felt a ſingular degree of anxiety on the ſubject; and even began to act from that paſſion earlier than is commonly imagined. For whilſt he was firſt lord of the admiralty, though not ſtrictly called upon in his official line, he preſented a very ſtrong memorial to the lords of the treaſury (my lord Bute was then at the head of the board) heavily complaining of the growth of the illicit commerce in America. Some miſchief happened even at that time from this over-earneſt zeal. Much greater happened afterwards when it operated with greater power in the higheſt department of the finances. The bonds of the act of navigation were ſtraitened ſo much, that America was on the point of having no trade, either contraband or legitimate. They found, under the conſtruction and execution then uſed, the act no longer tying but actually ſtrangling them. All this coming with new enumerations of commodities; with regulations which in a manner put a ſtop to the mutual coaſting intercourſe of the colonies; with the [299] appointment of courts of admiralty under various improper circumſtances; with a ſudden extinction of the paper currencies; with a compulſory proviſion for the quartering of ſoldiers; the people of America thought themſelves proceeded againſt as delinquents, or at beſt as people under ſuſpicion of delinquency; and in ſuch a manner as, they imagined, their recent ſervices in the war did not at all merit. Any of theſe innumerable regulations, perhaps, would not have alarmed alone; ſome might be thought reaſonable; the multitude ſtruck them with terror.

BUT the grand manoeuvre in that buſineſs of new regulating the colonies, was the 15th act of the fourth of George III.; which, beſides containing ſeveral of the matters to which I have juſt alluded, opened a new principle: and here properly began the ſecond period of the policy of this country with regard to the colonies; by which the ſcheme of a regular plantation parliamentary revenue was adopted in theory, and ſettled in practice. A revenue not ſubſtituted in the place of, but ſuperadded to, a monopoly; which monopoly was enforced at the ſame time with additional ſtrictneſs, and the execution put into military hands.

THIS act, ſir, had for the firſt time the title of ‘"granting duties in the colonies and plantations of America;"’ and for the firſt time it was aſſerted in the preamble, ‘"that it was juſt and neceſſary that a revenue ſhould be raiſed there."’ Then came the technical words of ‘"giving and granting;"’ and thus a complete American revenue act was made, in all the forms, and with a full avowal of the right, equity, policy, and even neceſſity, of taxing the colonies, without any formal conſent of theirs. There are contained alſo in the preamble to that act theſe very remarkable words— [300] the commons, &c.— ‘"being deſirous to make ſome proviſion in the preſent ſeſſion of parliament towards raiſing the ſaid revenue."’ By theſe words it appeared to the colonies, that this act was but a beginning of ſorrows; that every ſeſſion was to produce ſomething of the ſame kind; that we were to go on from day to day, in charging them with ſuch taxes as we pleaſed, for ſuch a military force as we ſhould think proper. Had this plan been purſued, it was evident that the provincial aſſemblies, in which the Americans felt all their portion of importance, and beheld their ſole image of freedom, were ipſo facto annihilated. This ill proſpect before them ſeemed to be boundleſs in extent, and endleſs in duration. Sir, they were not miſtaken. The miniſtry valued themſelves when this act paſſed, and when they gave notice of the ſtamp act, that both of the duties came very ſhort of their ideas of American taxation. Great was the applauſe of this meaſure here. In England we cried out for new taxes on America, whilſt they cried out that they were nearly cruſhed with thoſe which the war and their own grants had brought upon them.

SIR, it has been ſaid in the debate, that when the firſt American revenue act (the act in 1764, impoſing the port duties) paſſed, the Americans did not object to the principle. It is true they touched it but very tenderly. It was not a direct attack. They were, it is true, as yet novices; as yet unaccuſtomed to direct attacks upon any of the rights of parliament. The duties were port duties, like thoſe they had been accuſtomed to bear; with this difference, that the title was not the ſame, the preamble not the ſame, and the ſpirit altogether unlike. But of what ſervice is this obſervation to the cauſe of thoſe that make it? It is a [301] full refutation of the pretence for their preſent cruelty to America; for it ſhews, out of their own mouths, that our colonies were backward to enter into the preſent vexatious and ruinous controverſy.

THERE is alſo another circulation abroad, (ſpread with a malignant intention, which I cannot attribute to thoſe who ſay the ſame thing in this houſe) that Mr. Grenville gave the colony agents an option for their aſſemblies to tax themſelves, which they had refuſed. I find that much ſtreſs is laid on this, as a fact. However, it happens neither to be true nor poſſible. I will obſerve firſt, that Mr. Grenville never thought fit to make this apology for himſelf in the innumerable debates that were had upon the ſubject. He might have propoſed to the colony agents, that they ſhould agree in ſome mode of taxation as the ground of an act of parliament. But he never could have propoſed that they ſhould tax themſelves on requiſition, which is the aſſertion of the day. Indeed, Mr. Grenville well knew, that the colony agents could have no general powers to conſent to it; and they had no time to conſult their aſſemblies for particular powers, before he paſſed his firſt revenue act. If you compare dates, you will find it impoſſible. Burthened as the agents knew the colonies were at that time, they could not give the leaſt hope of ſuch grants. His own favourite governor was of opinion that the Americans were not then taxable objects:

‘"NOR was the time leſs favourable to the equity of ſuch a taxation. I don't mean to diſpute the reaſonableneſs of America contributing to the charges of Great Britain when ſhe is able; nor, I believe, would the Americans themſelves have diſputed it, at a proper time and ſeaſon. But it ſhould be conſidered, that the American governments themſelves have, in the proſecution [302] of the late war, contracted very large debts; which it will take ſome years to pay off, and in the mean time occaſion very burdenſome taxes for that purpoſe only. For inſtance, this government, which is as much beforehand as any, raiſes every year 37,500l. ſterling for ſinking their debt, and muſt continue it for four years longer at leaſt before it will be clear."’

THESE are the words of governor Bernard's letter to a member of the old miniſtry, and which he has ſince printed. Mr. Grenville could not have made this propoſition to the agents, for another reaſon. He was of opinion, which he has declared in this houſe an hundred times, that the colonies could not legally grant any revenue to the crown; and that infinite miſchiefs would be the conſequence of ſuch a power. When Mr. Grenville had paſſed the firſt revenue act, and in the ſame ſeſſion had made this houſe come to a reſolution for laying a ſtamp-duty on America; between that time and the paſſing the ſtamp-act into a law, he told a conſiderable and moſt reſpectable merchant, a member of this houſe, whom I am truly ſorry I do not now ſee in his place, when he repreſented againſt this proceeding, that if the ſtamp-duty was diſliked, he was willing to exchange it for any other equally productive; but that, if he objected to the Americans being taxed by parliament, he might ſave himſelf the trouble of the diſcuſſion, as he was determined on the meaſure. This is the fact, and, if you pleaſe, I will mention a very unqueſtionable authority for it.

THUS, ſir, I have diſpoſed of this falſehood. But falſehood has a perennial ſpring. It is ſaid, that no conjecture could be made of the diſlike of the colonies to the principle. This is as untrue as the other. After the reſolution of the houſe, and [303] before the paſſing of the ſtamp-act, the colonies of Maſſachuſet's Bay and New York did ſend remonſtrances, objecting to this mode of parliamentary taxation. What was the conſequence? They were ſuppreſſed; they were put under the table; notwithſtanding an order of council to the contrary, by the miniſtry which compoſed the very council that had made the order; and thus the houſe proceeded to its buſineſs of taxing, without the leaſt regular knowledge of the objections which were made to it. But, to give that houſe its due, it was not over-deſirous to receive information, or to hear remonſtrance. On the 15th of February, 1765, whilſt the ſtamp-act was under deliberation, they refuſed with ſcorn even ſo much as to receive four petitions preſented from ſo reſpectable colonies as Connecticut, Rhode Iſland, Virginia, and Carolina; beſides one from the traders of Jamaica. As to the colonies, they had no alternative left to them, but to diſobey; or to pay the taxes impoſed by that parliament which was not ſuffered, or did not ſuffer itſelf, even to hear them remonſtrate upon the ſubject.

THIS was the ſtate of the colonies before his majeſty thought fit to change his miniſters. It ſtands upon no authority of mine. It is proved by uncontrovertible records. The hon. gentleman has deſired ſome of us to lay our hands upon our hearts, and anſwer to his queries upon the hiſtorical part of this conſideration; and by his manner (as well as my eyes could diſcern it) he ſeemed to addreſs himſelf to me.

SIR, I will anſwer him as clearly as I am able, and with great openneſs: I have nothing to conceal. In the year ſixty-five, being in a very private ſtation, far enough from any line of buſineſs, and not having the honour of a ſeat in this houſe, [304] it was my fortune, unknowing and unknown to the then miniſtry, by the intervention of a common friend, to become connected with a very noble perſon, and at the head of the treaſury department. It was indeed in a ſituation of little rank and no conſequence, ſuitable to the mediocrity of my talents and pretenſions. But a ſituation near enough to enable me to ſee, as well as others, what was going on; and I did ſee in that noble perſon ſuch ſound principles, ſuch an enlargement of mind, ſuch clear and ſagacious ſenſe, and ſuch unſhaken fortitude, as have bound me, as well as others much better than me, by an inviolable attachment to him from that time forward. Sir, lord Rockingham very early in that ſummer received a ſtrong repreſentation from many weighty Engliſh merchants and manufacturers, from governors of provinces and commanders of men of war, againſt almoſt the whole of the American commercial regulations: and particularly with regard to the total ruin which was threatened to the Spaniſh trade. I believe, ſir, the noble lord ſoon ſaw his way in this buſineſs. But he did not raſhly determine againſt acts which it might be ſuppoſed were the reſult of much deliberation. However, ſir, he ſcarcely began to open the ground, when the whole veteran body of office took the alarm. A violent outcry of all (except thoſe who knew and felt the miſchief) was raiſed againſt any alteration. On one hand, his attempt was a direct violation of treaties and public law.—On the other, the act of navigation and all the corps of trade laws were drawn up in array againſt it.

THE firſt ſtep the noble lord took, was to have the opinion of his excellent, learned, and everlamented friend the late Mr. Yorke, then attorney general, on the point of law. When he knew [305] that formally and officially, which in ſubſtance he had known before, he immediately diſpatched orders to redreſs the grievance. But I will ſay it for the then miniſter, he is of that conſtitution of mind, that I know he would have iſſued, on the ſame critical occaſion, the very ſame orders, if the acts of trade had been, as they were not, directly againſt him: and would have chearfully ſubmitted to the equity of parliament for his indemnity.

ON the concluſion of this buſineſs of the Spaniſh trade, the news of the troubles, on account of the ſtamp-act, arrived in England. It was not until the end of October that theſe accounts were received. No ſooner had the ſound of that mighty tempeſt reached us in England, than the whole of the then oppoſition, inſtead of feeling humbled by the unhappy iſſue of their meaſures, ſeemed to be infinitely elated, and cried out, that the miniſtry, from envy to the glory of their predeceſſors, were prepared to repeal the ſtamp-act. Near nine years after, the hon. gentleman takes quite oppoſite ground, and now challenges me to put my hand to my heart, and ſay, whether the miniſtry had reſolved on the repeal till a conſiderable time after the meeting of parliament. Though I do not very well know what the hon. gentleman wiſhes to infer from the admiſſion, or from the denial, of this fact, on which he ſo earneſtly adjures me; I do put my hand on my heart, and aſſure him, that they did not come to a reſolution directly to repeal. They weighed this matter as its difficulty and importance required. They conſidered maturely among themſelves. They conſulted with all who could give advice or information. It was not determined until a little before the meeting of parliament; but it was determined, and the main lines of their own plan marked out, before that meeting. Two queſtions [306] aroſe. (I hope I am not going into a narrative troubleſome to the houſe)

[A cry of, Go on, go on.]

THE firſt of the two conſiderations was, whether the repeal ſhould be total, or whether only partial; taking out every thing burthenſome and productive, and reſerving only an empty acknowledgment, ſuch as a ſtamp on cards and dice. The other queſtion was, On what principle the act ſhould be repealed? On this head alſo two principles were ſtarted. One, that the legiſlative rights of this country, with regard to America, were not entire, but had certain reſtrictions and limitations. The other principle was, that taxes of this kind were contrary to the fundamental principles of commerce on which the colonies were founded; and contrary to every idea of political equity; by which equity we are bound, as much as poſſible to extend the ſpirit and benefit of the Britiſh conſtitution to every part of the Britiſh dominions. The option, both of the meaſure and of the principle of repeal, was made before the ſeſſion; and I wonder how any one can read the king's ſpeech at the opening of that ſeſſion, without ſeeing in that ſpeech both the repeal and the declaratory act very ſufficiently crayoned out. Thoſe who cannot ſee this, can ſee nothing.

SURELY the hon. gentleman will not think that a great deal leſs time than was then employed, ought to have been ſpent in deliberation; when he conſiders that the news of the troubles did not arrive till towards the end of October. The parliament ſat to fill the vacancies on the 14th day of December, and on buſineſs the 14th of the following January.

[307]SIR, a partial repeal, or, as the bon ton of court then was, a modification, would have ſatisfied a timid, unſyſtematic, procraſtinating miniſtry, as ſuch a meaſure has ſince done ſuch a miniſtry. A modification is the conſtant reſource of weak undeciding minds. To repeal by a denial of our right to tax in the preamble (and this too did not want adviſers), would have cut, in the heroic ſtyle, the Gordian knot with a ſword. Either meaſure would have coſt no more than a day's debate. But when the total repeal was adopted; and adopted on principles of policy, of equity, and of commerce; this plan made it neceſſary to enter into many and difficult meaſures. It became neceſſary to open a very large field of evidence commenſurate to theſe extenſive views. But then this labour did knights ſervice. It opened the eyes of ſeveral to the true ſtate of the American affairs; it enlarged their ideas; it removed prejudices; and it conciliated the opinions and affections of men. The noble lord, who then took the lead in adminiſtration, my hon. friendf under me, and a right hon. gentlemang (if he will not reject his ſhare, and it was a large one, of this buſineſs) exerted the moſt laudable induſtry in bringing before you the fulleſt, moſt impartial, and leaſt-garbled body of evidence that ever was produced to this houſe. I think the enquiry laſted in the committee for ſix weeks; and at its concluſion this houſe, by an independent, noble, ſpirited, and unexpected majority; by a majority that will redeem all the acts ever done by majorities in parliament; in the teeth of all the old mercenary Swiſs of ſtate, in deſpite of all the ſpeculators and augurs of political events, in defiance of the whole embattled legion of veteran penſioners and practiſed inſtruments of a court, [308] gave a total repeal to the ſtamp-act, and (if it had been ſo permitted) a laſting piece to this whole empire.

I STATE, ſir, theſe particulars, becauſe this act of ſpirit and fortitude has lately been, in the circulation of the ſeaſon, and in ſome hazarded declamations in this houſe, attributed to timidity. If, ſir, the conduct of miniſtry, in propoſing the repeal, had ariſen from timidity with regard to themſelves, it would have been greatly to be condemned. Intereſted timidity diſgraces as much in the cabinet, as perſonal timidity does in the field. But timidity, with regard to the well-being of our country, is heroic virtue. The noble lord who then conducted affairs, and his worthy colleagues, whilſt they trembled at the proſpect of ſuch diſtreſſes as you have ſince brought upon yourſelves, were not afraid ſteadily to look in the face that glaring and dazzling influence at which the eyes of eagles have blenched. He looked in the face one of the ableſt, and, let me ſay, not the moſt ſcrupulous oppoſitions, that perhaps ever was in this houſe, and withſtood it, unaided by, even one of, the uſual ſupports of adminiſtration. He did this when he repealed the ſtamp-act. He looked in the face a perſon he had long reſpected and regarded, and whoſe aid was then particularly wanting; I mean lord Chatham. He did this when he paſſed the declaratory act.

IT is now given out, for the uſual purpoſes, by the uſual emiſſaries, that lord Rockingham did not conſent to the repeal of this act until he was bullied into it by lord Chatham; and the reporters have gone ſo far as publicly to aſſert, in an hundred companies, that the hon. gentleman under the gallery,f who propoſed the repeal in the American [309] committee, had another ſet of reſolutions in his pocket directly the reverſe of thoſe he moved. Theſe artifices of a deſperate cauſe are, at this time, ſpread abroad, with incredible care, in every part of the town, from the higheſt to the loweſt companies; as if the induſtry of the circulation were to make amends for the abſurdity of the report.

SIR, Whether the noble lord is of a complexion to be bullied by lord Chatham, or by any man, I muſt ſubmit to thoſe who know him. I confeſs, when I look back to that time, I conſider him as placed in one of the moſt trying ſituations in which, perhaps, any man ever ſtood. In the houſe of peers there were very few of the miniſtry, out of the noble lord's own particular connexion, (except lord Egmont, who acted, as far as I could diſcern, an honourable and manly part), that did not look to ſome other future arrangement, which warped his politics. There were in both houſes new and menacing appearances, that might very naturally drive any other, than a moſt reſolute miniſter, from his meaſure or from his ſtation. The houſehold troops openly revolted. The allies of miniſtry (thoſe, I mean, who ſupported ſome of their meaſures, but refuſed reſponſibility for any) endeavoured to undermine their credit, and to take ground that muſt be fatal to the ſucceſs of the very cauſe which they would be thought to countenance. The queſtion of the repeal was brought on by miniſtry in the committee of this houſe, in the very inſtant when it was known that more than one court negociation was carrying on with the heads of the oppoſition. Every thing, upon every ſide, was full of traps and mines. Earth below ſhook; heaven above menaced; all the elements of miniſterial ſafety were diſſolved. It was in the midſt of this chaos of plots and counterplots; it was in the midſt of this complicated [310] warfare againſt public oppoſition and private treachery, that the firmneſs of that noble perſon was put to the proof. He never ſtirred from his ground; no, not an inch. He remained fixed and determined, in principle, in meaſure, and in conduct. He practiſed no managements. He ſecured no retreat. He ſought no apology.

I WILL likewiſe do juſtice, I ought to do it, to the hon. gentleman who led us in this houſei. Far from the duplicity wickedly charged on him, he acted his part with alacrity and reſolution. We all felt inſpired by the example he gave us, down even to myſelf, the weakeſt in that phalanx. I declare for one, I knew well enough (it could not be concealed from any body) the true ſtate of things: but, in my life, I never came with ſo much ſpirits into this houſe. It was a time for a man to act in. We had powerful enemies; but we had faithful and determined friends; and a glorious cauſe. We had a great battle to fight; but we had the means of fighting; not as now, when our arms are tied behind us. We did fight that day and conquer.

I REMEMBER, ſir, with a melancholy pleaſure, the ſituation of the hon. gentlemani who made the motion for the repeal; in that criſis, when the whole trading intereſt of this empire, crammed into your lobbies, with a trembling and anxious expectation, waited, almoſt to a winter's return of light, their fate from your reſolutions. When, at length, you had determined in their favour, and your doors, thrown open, ſhewed them the figure of their deliverer in the well-earned triumph of his important victory, from the whole of that grave multitude there aroſe an involuntary burſt of gratitude and tranſport. They jumped upon him like children [311] on a long abſent father. They clung about him as captives about their redeemer. All England, all America, joined to his applauſe. Nor did he ſeem inſenſible to the beſt of all earthly rewards, the love and admiration of his fellow-citizens. Hope elevated and joy brightened his creſt. I ſtood near him; and his face, to uſe the expreſſion of the ſcripture of the firſt martyr, ‘"his face was as if it had been the face of an angel."’ I do not know how others feel; but if I had ſtood in that ſituation, I never would have exchanged it for all that kings in their profuſion could beſtow. I did hope, that that day's danger and honour would have been a bond to hold us all together for ever. But, alas! that, with other pleaſing viſions, is long ſince vaniſhed.

SIR, this act of ſupreme magnanimity has been repreſented, as if it had been a meaſure of an adminiſtration, that, having no ſcheme of their own, took a middle line, pilfered a bit from one ſide and a bit from the other. Sir, they took no middle lines. They differed fundamentally from the ſchemes of both parties; but they preſerved the objects of both. They preſerved the authority of Great Britain. They preſerved the equity of Great Britain. They made the declaratory act; they repealed the ſtamp-act. They did both fully; becauſe the declaratory act was without qualification; and the repeal of the ſtamp-act total. This they did in the ſituation I have deſcribed.

NOW, ſir, what will the adverſary ſay to both theſe acts? If the principle of the declaratory act was not good, the principle we are contending for this day is monſtrous. If the principle of the repeal was not good, why are we not at war for a real ſubſtantial effective revenue? If both were bad; why has this miniſtry incurred all the inconveniencies of k [312] both and of all ſchemes? Why have they enacted, repealed, enforced, yielded, and now attempt to enforce again?

SIR, I think I may as well now, as at any other time, ſpeak to a certain matter of fact not wholly unrelated to the queſtion under your conſideration. We, who would perſuade you to revert to the ancient policy of this kingdom, labour under the effect of this ſhort current phraſe, which the court leaders have given out to all their corps, in order to take away the credit of thoſe who would prevent you from that frantic war you are going to wage upon your Colonies. The cant is this; ‘"All the diſturbances in America have been created by the repeal of the ſtamp-act."’ I ſuppreſs for a moment my indignation at the falſehood, baſeneſs, and abſurdity, of this moſt audacious aſſertion. Inſtead of remarking on the motives and character of thoſe who have iſſued it for circulation, I will clearly lay before you the ſtate of America, antecedently to that repeal; after the repeal; and ſince the renewal of the ſchemes of American taxation.

IT is ſaid, that the diſturbances, if there were any, before the repeal, were ſlight; and without difficulty or inconvenience might have been ſuppreſſed. For an anſwer to this aſſertion I will ſend you to the great author and patron of the ſtamp-act, who, certainly meaning well to the authority of this country, and fully apprized of the ſtate of that, made, before a repeal was ſo much as agitated in this houſe, the motion which is on your journals; and which, to ſave the clerk the trouble of turning to it, I will now read to you. It was for an amendment to the addreſs of the 17th of December 1765:

[313] ‘"TO expreſs our juſt reſentment and indignation at the outrageous tumults and inſurrections which have been excited and carried on in North America; and at the reſiſtance given by open and rebellious force to the execution of the laws in that part of his majeſty's dominions. And to aſſure his majeſty, that his faithful commons, animated with the warmeſt duty and attachment to his royal perſon and government, will firmly and effectually ſupport his majeſty in all ſuch meaſures as ſhall be neceſſary for preſerving and ſupporting the legal dependance of the Colonies on the Mother Country, &c. &c."’

HERE was certainly a diſturbance preceding the repeal; ſuch a diſturbance as Mr. Grenville thought neceſſary to qualify by the name of an inſurrection, and the epithet of a rebellious force: terms much ſtronger than any, by which, thoſe who then ſupported his motion, have ever ſince thought proper to diſtinguiſh the ſubſequent diſturbances in America. They were diſturbances which ſeemed to him and his friends to juſtify as ſtrong a promiſe of ſupport, as hath been uſual to give in the beginning of a war with the moſt powerful and declared enemies. When the accounts of the American governors came before the houſe, they appeared ſtronger even than the warmth of public imagination had painted them; ſo much ſtronger, that the papers on your table bear me out in ſaying, that all the late diſturbances, which have been at one time the miniſter's motives for the repeal of five out of ſix of the new court taxes, and are now his pretences for refuſing to repeal that ſixth, did not amount—why do I compare them? no, not to a tenth part of the tumults and violence which prevailed long before the repeal of that act.

MINISTRY cannot refuſe the authority of the commander in chief, general Gage, who, in his letter [314] of the 4th of November, from New York, thus repreſents the ſtate of things:

‘"IT is difficult to ſay, from the higheſt to the loweſt, who has not been acceſſary to this inſurrection, either by writing or mutual agreements to oppoſe the act, by what they are pleaſed to term all legal oppoſition to it. Nothing effectual has been propoſed either to prevent or quell the tumult. The reſt of the provinces are in the ſame ſituation as to a poſitive refuſal to take the ſtamps; and threatning thoſe who ſhall take them, to plunder and murder them; and this affair ſtands in all the provinces, that unleſs the act, from its own nature, enforce itſelf, nothing but a very conſiderable military force can do it."’

IT is remarkable, ſir, that the perſons who formerly trumpeted forth the moſt loudly, the violent reſolutions of aſſemblies; the univerſal inſurrections; the ſeizing and burning the ſtamped papers; the forcing ſtamp officers to reſign their commiſſions under the gallows; the rifling and pulling down of the houſes of magiſtrates; and the expulſion from their country of all who dared to write or ſpeak a ſingle word in defence of the powers of parliament; theſe very trumpeters are now the men that repreſent the whole as a mere trifle; and chooſe to date all the diſturbances from the repeal of the ſtamp-act, which put an end to them. Hear your officers abroad, and let them refute this ſhameleſs falſehood, who, in all their correſpondence, ſtate the diſturbances as owing to their true cauſes, the diſcontent of the people, from the taxes. You have this evidence in your own archives—and it will give you compleat ſatisfaction; if you are not ſo far loſt to all parliamentary ideas of information, as rather to credit the lye of the day, than the records of your own houſe.

[315]SIR, this vermin of court reporters, when they are forced into day upon one point, are ſure to burrow in another; but they ſhall have no refuge: I will make them bolt out of all their holes. Conſcious that they muſt be baffled, when they attribute a precedent diſturbance to a ſubſequent meaſure, they take other ground, almoſt as abſurd, but very common in modern practice, and very wicked; which is, to attribute the ill effect of ill-judged conduct to the arguments which had been uſed to diſſuade us from it. They ſay that the oppoſition made in parliament to the ſtamp-act at the time of its paſſing, encouraged the Americans to their reſiſtance. This has even formally appeared in print in a regular volume, from an advocate of that faction, a doctor Tucker. This doctor Tucker is already a dean, and his earneſt labours in this vineyard will, I ſuppoſe, raiſe him to a biſhopric. But this aſſertion too, juſt like the reſt, is falſe. In all the papers which have loaded your table; in all the vaſt crowd of verbal witneſſes that appeared at your bar, witneſſes which were indiſcriminately produced from both ſides of the houſe; not the leaſt hint of ſuch a cauſe of diſturbance has ever appeared. As to the fact of a ſtrenuous oppoſition to the ſtamp-act, I ſat as a ſtranger in your gallery when the act was under conſideration. Far from any thing inflammatory, I never heard a more languid debate in this houſe. No more than two or three gentlemen, as I remember, ſpoke againſt the act, and that with great reſerve and remarkable temper. There was but one diviſion in the whole progreſs of the bill; and the minority did not reach to more than 39 or 40. In the houſe of lords I do not recollect that there was any debate or diviſion at all. I am ſure there was no proteſt. In fact, the affair paſſed with ſo very, very little noiſe, that in town they ſcarcely knew the nature of what you were doing. The [316] oppoſition to the bill in England never could have done this miſchief, becauſe there ſcarcely ever was leſs of oppoſition to a bill of conſequence.

SIR, the agents and diſtributors of falſehoods have, with their uſual induſtry, circulated another lye of the ſame nature with the former. It is this, that the diſturbances aroſe from the account which had been received in America of the change in the miniſtry. No longer awed, it ſeems, with the ſpirit of the former rulers, they thought themſelves a match for what our calumniators chooſe to qualify by the name of ſo feeble a miniſtry as ſucceeded. Feeble in one ſenſe theſe men certainly may be called; for, with all their efforts, and they have made many, they have not been able to reſiſt the diſtempered vigour and inſane alacrity with which you are ruſhing to your ruin. But it does ſo happen, that the falſity of this circulation is (like the reſt) demonſtrated by indiſputable dates and records.

SO little was the change known in America, that the letters of your governors, giving an account of theſe diſturbances long after they had arrived at their higheſt pitch, were all directed to the old miniſtry, and particularly to the earl of Halifax, the ſecretary of ſtate correſponding with the colonies, without once in the ſmalleſt degree intimating the ſlighteſt ſuſpicion of any miniſterial revolution whatſoever. The miniſtry was not changed in England until the tenth of July 1765. On the 14th of the preceding June, governor Fauquier from Virginia writes thus; and writes thus to the earl of Halifax: ‘"Government is ſet at defiance, not having ſtrength enough in her hands to enforce obedience to the laws of the community.—The private diſtreſs, which every man feels, encreaſes the general diſſatisfaction at the duties laid by the [317] ſtamp-act, which breaks out, and ſhews itſelf upon every trifling occaſion."’ The general diſſatisfaction had produced ſome time before, that is, on the 29th of May, ſeveral ſtrong public reſolves againſt the ſtamp-act; and thoſe reſolves are aſſigned by governor Bernard, as the cauſe of the inſurrections in Maſſachuſet's Bay, in his letter of the 15th of Auguſt, ſtill addreſſed to the earl of Halifax; and he continued to addreſs ſuch accounts to that miniſter quite to the 7th of September of the ſame year. Similar accounts, and of as late a date, were ſent from other governors, and all directed to lord Halifax. Not one of theſe letters indicates the ſlighteſt idea of a change, either known, or even apprehended.

THUS are blown away the inſect race of courtly falſehoods! thus periſh the miſerable inventions of the wretched runners for a wretched cauſe, which they have fly-blown into every weak and rotten part of the country, in vain hopes that, when their maggots had taken wing, their importunate buzzing might ſound ſomething like the public voice!

SIR, I have troubled you ſufficiently with the ſtate of America before the repeal. Now I turn to the hon. gentleman who ſo ſtoutly challenges us, to tell, whether, after the repeal, the provinces were quiet? This is coming home to the point. Here I meet him directly; and anſwer moſt readily, They were quiet. And I, in my turn, challenge him to prove when, and where, and by whom, and in what numbers, and with what violence, the other laws of trade, as gentlemen aſſert, were violated in conſequence of your conceſſion? or that even your other revenue laws were attacked? But I quit the vantage ground on which I ſtand, and where I might leave the burthen of [318] the proof upon him: I walk down upon the open plain, and undertake to ſhew, that they were not only quiet, but ſhewed many unequivocal marks of acknowledgment and gratitude. And to give him every advantage, I ſelect the obnoxious colony of Maſſachuſet's Bay, which at this time (but without hearing her) is ſo heavily a culprit before parliament—I will ſelect their proceedings even under circumſtances of no ſmall irritation. For, a little imprudently I muſt ſay, governor Bernard mixed in the adminiſtration of the lenitive of the repeal no ſmall acrimony ariſing from matters of a ſeparate nature. Yet ſee, ſir, the effect of that lenitive, though mixed with theſe bitter ingredients; and how theſe rugged people can expreſs themſelves on a meaſure of conceſſion.

‘"If it is not now in our power" (ſay they in their addreſs to governor Bernard) "in ſo full a manner as will be expected, to ſhew our reſpectful gratitude to the mother country, or to make a dutiful and affectionate return to the indulgence of the king and parliament, it ſhall be no fault of ours; for this we intend, and hope we ſhall be able fully to effect."’

WOULD to God that this temper had been cultivated, managed, and ſet in action! other effect than thoſe which we have ſince felt would have reſulted from it. On the requiſition for compenſation to thoſe who had ſuffered from the violence of the populace, in the ſame addreſs they ſay, ‘"The recommendation enjoined by Mr. ſecretary Conway's letter, and in conſequence thereof made to us, we will embrace the firſt convenient opportunity to conſider and act upon."’ They did conſider; they did act upon it. They obeyed the requiſition. I know the mode has been chicaned upon; but it was ſubſtantially obeyed; and much better obeyed, than I fear the parliamentary requiſition of this [319] ſeſſion will be, though enforced by all your rigour, and backed with all your power. In a word, the damages of popular fury were compenſated by legiſlative gravity. Almoſt every other part of America in various ways demonſtrated their gratitude. I am bold to ſay, that ſo ſudden a calm recovered after ſo violent a ſtorm is without parallel in hiſtory. To ſay that no other diſturbance ſhould happen from any other cauſe, is folly. But, as far as appearance went, by the judicious ſacrifice of one law, you procured an acquieſcence in all that remained. After this experience, nobody ſhall perſuade me, when an whole people are concerned, that acts of lenity are not means of conciliation.

I HOPE the hon. gentleman has received a fair and full anſwer to his queſtion.

I HAVE done with the third period of your policy; that of your repeal; and the return of your ancient ſyſtem, and your ancient tranquillity and concord. Sir, this period was not as long as it was happy. Another ſcene was opened, and other actors appeared on the ſtage. The ſtate, in the condition I have deſcribed it, was delivered into the hands of lord Chatham—a great and celebrated name; a name that keeps the name of this country reſpectable in every other on the globe. It may be truly called,

—Clarum et venerabile nomen
Gentibus, et multum noſtrae quod proderat urbi.

SIR, the venerable age of this great man, his merited rank, his ſuperior eloquence, his ſplendid qualities, his eminent ſervices, the vaſt ſpace he fills in the eye of mankind; and, more than all the reſt, his fall from power, which, like death, canonizes and ſanctifies a great character, will not ſuffer me to cenſure any part of his conduct. I am [320] afraid to flatter him; I am ſure I am not diſpoſed to blame him. Let thoſe who have betrayed him by their adulation, inſult him with their malevolence. But what I do not preſume to cenſure, I may have leave to lament. For a wiſe man, he ſeemed to me, at that time, to be governed too much by general maxims. I ſpeak with the freedom of hiſtory, and I hope without offence. One or two of theſe maxims, flowing from an opinion not the moſt indulgent to our unhappy ſpecies, and ſurely a little too general, led him into meaſures that were greatly miſchievous to himſelf; and for that reaſon, among others, perhaps fatal to his country; meaſures, the effects of which, I am afraid, are for ever incurable. He made an adminiſtration, ſo checkered and ſpeckled; he put together a piece of joinery, ſo croſsly indented and whimſically dovetailed; a cabinet ſo variouſly inlaid; ſuch a piece of diverſified Moſaic; ſuch a teſſelated pavement without cement; here a bit of black ſtone, and there a bit of white; patriots and courtiers, kings friends and republicans; whigs and tories; treacherous friends and open enemies: that it was indeed a very curious ſhow; but utterly unſafe to touch, and unſure to ſtand on. The colleagues whom he had aſſorted at the ſame boards, ſtared at each other, and were obliged to aſk, ‘"Sir, your name?—Sir, you have the advantage of me—Mr. Such a one—I beg a thouſand pardons—"’ I venture to ſay, it did ſo happen, that perſons had a ſingle office divided between them, who had never ſpoke to each other in their lives; until they found themſelves, they knew not how, pigging together, heads and points, in the ſame truckle-bed.k

[321]SIR, In conſequence of this arrangement, having put ſo much the larger part of his enemies and oppoſers into power, the confuſion was ſuch, that his own principles could not poſſibly have any effect or influence in the conduct of affairs. If ever he fell into a fit of the gout, or if any other cauſe withdrew him from public cares, principles directly the contrary were ſure to predominate. When he had executed his plan, he had not an inch of ground to ſtand upon. When he had accompliſhed his ſcheme of adminiſtration, he was no longer a miniſter.

WHEN his face was hid but for a moment, his whole ſyſtem was on a wide ſea, without chart or compaſs. The gentlemen, his particular friends, who, with the names of various departments of miniſtry, were admitted, to ſeem, as if they acted a part under him, with a modeſty that becomes all men, and with a confidence in him, which was juſtified even in its extravagance by his ſuperior abilities, had never, in any inſtance, preſumed upon any opinion of their own. Deprived of his guiding influence, they were whirled about, the ſport of every guſt, and eaſily driven into any port; and as thoſe who joined with them in manning the veſſel were the moſt directly oppoſite to his opinions, meaſures, and character, and far the moſt artful and moſt powerful of the ſet, they eaſily prevailed, ſo as to ſeize upon the vacant, unoccupied, and derelict minds of his friends; and inſtantly they turned the veſſel wholly out of the courſe of his policy. As if it were to inſult as well as to betray him, even long before the cloſe of the firſt ſeſſion of his adminiſtration, when every thing was publicly tranſacted, and with great parade in his name, they made an act, declaring it highly juſt and expedient to raiſe a revenue in America. For even [322] then, ſir, even before this ſplendid orb was entirely ſet, and while the Weſtern horizon was in a blaze with his deſcending glory, on the oppoſite quarter of the heavens aroſe another luminary, and, for his hour, became lord of the aſcendant.

THIS light too is paſſed, and ſet for ever. You underſtand, to be ſure, that I ſpeak of Charles Townſhend, officially the re-producer of this fatal ſcheme; whom I cannot even now remember without ſome degree of ſenſibility. In truth, ſir, he was the delight and ornament of this houſe, and the charm of every private ſociety which he honoured with his preſence. Perhaps there never aroſe in this country, nor in any country, a man of a more pointed and finiſhed wit; and (where his paſſions were not concerned) of a more refined, exquiſite, and penetrating a judgment. If he had not ſo great a ſtock, as ſome have had who flouriſhed formerly, of knowledge long treaſured up, he knew better by far, than any man I ever was acquainted with, how to bring together within a ſhort time, all that was neceſſary to eſtabliſh, to illuſtrate, and to decorate, that ſide of the queſtion he ſupported. He ſtated his matter ſkilfully and powerfully. He particularly excelled in a moſt luminous explanation, and diſplay of his ſubject. His ſtyle of argument was neither trite and vulgar, nor ſubtile and abſtruſe. He hit the houſe juſt between wind and water.—And not being troubled with too anxious a zeal for any matter in queſtion, he was never more tedious, or more earneſt, than the preconceived opinions and preſent temper of his hearers required; to whom he was always in perfect uniſon. He conformed exactly to the temper of the houſe; and he ſeemed to guide, becauſe he was always ſure to follow it.

[323]I BEG pardon, ſir, if, when I ſpeak of this and of other great men, I appear to digreſs in ſaying ſomething of their characters. In this eventful hiſtory of the revolutions of America, the characters of ſuch men are of much importance. Great men are the guide-poſts and land-marks in the ſtate. The credit of ſuch men at court, or in the nation, is the ſole cauſe of all the public meaſures. It would be an invidious thing, (moſt foreign I truſt to what you think my diſpoſition) to remark the errors into which the authority of great names has brought the nation, without doing juſtice at the ſame time to the great qualities, whence that authority aroſe. The ſubject is inſtructive to thoſe who wiſh to form themſelves on whatever of excellence has gone before them. There are many young members in the houſe (ſuch of late has been the rapid ſucceſſion of public men) who never ſaw that prodigy Charles Townſhend; nor of courſe know what a ferment he was able to excite in every thing by the violent ebullition of his mixed virtues and failings. For failings he had undoubtedly—many of us remember them; we are this day conſidering the effect of them. But he had no failings which were not owing to a noble cauſe; to an ardent, generous, perhaps an immoderate paſſion for fame; a paſſion which is the inſtinct of all great ſouls. He worſhipped that goddeſs whereſoever ſhe appeared; but he paid his particular devotions to her in her favourite habitation, in her choſen temple, the houſe of commons. Beſides the characters of the individuals that compoſe our body, it is impoſſible, Mr. Speaker, not to obſerve, that this houſe has a collective character of its own. That character too, however imperfect, is not unamiable. Like all great public collections of men, you poſſeſs a marked love of virtue and an abhorrence of vice. But among vices, there is none, which the houſe abhors [324] in the ſame degree with obſtinacy. Obſtinacy, ſir, is certainly a great vice; and in the changeful ſtate of political affairs it is frequently the cauſe of great miſchief. It happens, however, very unfortunately, that almoſt the whole line of the great and maſculine virtues, conſtancy, gravity, magnanimity, fortitude, fidelity, and firmneſs, are cloſely allied to this diſagreeable quality, of which you have ſo juſt an abhorrence: and in their exceſs, all theſe virtues very eaſily fall into it. He, who paid ſuch a punctilious attention to all your feelings, certainly took care not to ſhock them by that vice which is the moſt diſguſtful to you.

THAT fear of diſpleaſing thoſe who ought moſt to be pleaſed, betrayed him ſometimes into the other extreme. He had voted, and, in the year 1765, had been an advocate for the ſtamp act. Things and the diſpoſition of mens minds were changed. In ſhort the ſtamp act began to be no favourite in this houſe. He therefore attended at the private meeting, in which the reſolutions moved by a right hon. gentleman were ſettled; reſolutions leading to the repeal. The next day he voted for that repeal; and he would have ſpoken for it too, if an illneſs, (not as was then given out a political) but to my knowledge, a very real illneſs, had not prevented it.

THE very next ſeſſion, as the faſhion of this world paſſeth away, the repeal began to be in as bad an odour in this houſe as the ſtamp act had been in the ſeſſion before. To conform to the temper which began to prevail, and to prevail moſt amongſt thoſe moſt in power, he declared, very early in the winter, that a revenue muſt be had out of America. Inſtantly he was tied down to his engagements by ſome, who had no objection to ſuch experiments, when made at the coſt of perſons for [325] whom they had no particular regard. The whole body of courtiers drove him onward. They always talked as if the king ſtood in a ſort of humiliated ſtate, until ſomething of the kind ſhould be done.

HERE this extraordinary man, then chancellor of the exchequer, found himſelf in great ſtraits. To pleaſe univerſally, was the object of his life; but to tax and to pleaſe, no more than to love and to be wiſe, is not given to men. However, he attempted it. To render the tax palatable to the partizans of American revenue, he made a preamble ſtating the neceſſity of ſuch a revenue. To cloſe with the American diſtinction, this revenue was external or port-duty; but again, to ſoften it to the other party, it was a duty of ſupply. To gratify the coloniſts, it was laid on Britiſh manufactures; to ſatisfy the merchants of Britain, the duty was trivial, and (except that on tea, which touched only the devoted Eaſt India company) on none of the grand objects of commerce. To counterwork the American contraband, the duty on tea was reduced from a ſhilling to three-pence. But to ſecure the favour of thoſe who would tax America, the ſcene of collection was changed, and, with the reſt, it was levied in the colonies. What need I ſay more? This fine-ſpun ſcheme had the uſual fate of all exquiſite policy. But the original plan of the duties, and the mode of executing that plan, both aroſe ſingly and ſolely from a love of our applauſe. He was truly the child of the houſe. He never thought, did, or ſaid any thing but with a view to you. He every day adapted himſelf to your diſpoſition; and adjuſted himſelf before it, as at a looking-glaſs.

HE had obſerved (indeed it could not eſcape him) that ſeveral perſons, infinitely his inferiors in all reſpects, had formerly rendered themſelves conſiderable [326] in this houſe by one method alone. They were a race of men (I hope in God the ſpecies is extinct) who, when they roſe in their place, no man living could divine, from any known adherence to parties, to opinions, or to principles; from any order or ſyſtem in their politics; or from any ſequel or connection in their ideas, what part they were going to take in any debate. It is aſtoniſhing how much this uncertainty, eſpecially at critical times, called the attention of all parties on ſuch men. All eyes were fixed on them, all ears open to hear them; each party gaped, and looked alternately for their vote, almoſt to the end of their ſpeeches. While the houſe hung in this uncertainty, now the hear-hims roſe from this ſide, now they re-bellowed from the other; and that party to whom they fell at length from their tremulous and dancing balance, always received them in a tempeſt of applauſe. The fortune of ſuch men was a temptation too great to be reſiſted by one, to whom, a ſingle whiff of incenſe withheld gave much greater pain, than he received delight, in the clouds of it, which daily roſe about him from the prodigal ſuperſtition of innumerable admirers. He was a candidate for contradictory honours; and his great aim was to make thoſe agree in admiration of him who never agreed in any thing elſe.

HENCE aroſe this unfortunate act, the ſubject of this day's debate; from a diſpoſition which, after making an American revenue to pleaſe one, repealed it to pleaſe others, and again revived it in hopes of pleaſing a third, and of catching ſomething in the ideas of all.

THIS revenue act of 1767, formed the fourth period of American policy. How we have fared ſince then—what woeful variety of ſchemes have been adopted; what enforcing, and what repealing; [327] what bullying, and what ſubmitting; what doing, and undoing; what ſtraining, and what relaxing; what aſſemblies diſſolving for not obeying, and called again without obedience; what troops ſent out to quell reſiſtance, and on meeting that reſiſtance recalled; what ſhiftings, and changes, and jumblings of all kinds of men at home, which left no poſſibility of order, conſiſtency, vigour, or even ſo much as a decent unity of colour in any one public meaſure.—It is a tedious irkſome taſk. My duty may call me to open it out ſome other time; on a former occaſionl I tried your temper on a part of it; for the preſent I ſhall forbear.

AFTER all theſe changes and agitations, your immediate ſituation upon the queſtion on your paper is at length brought to this. You have an act of parliament, ſtating, that ‘"it is expedient to raiſe a revenue in America."’ By a partial repeal, you annihilated the greateſt part of that revenue, which this preamble declares to be ſo expedient. You have ſubſtituted no other in the place of it. A ſecretary of ſtate has diſclaimed, in the king's name, all thoughts of ſuch a ſubſtitution in future. The principle of this diſclaimer goes to what has been left, as well as what has been repealed. The tax which lingers after its companions, (under a preamble declaring an American revenue expedient, and for the ſole purpoſe of ſupporting the theory of that preamble) militates with the aſſurance authentically conveyed to the colonies; and is an exhauſtleſs ſource of jealouſy and animoſity. On this ſtate, which I take to be a fair one; not being able to diſcern any grounds of honour, advantage, peace, or power, for adhering, either to the act or to the preamble, I ſhall vote for the queſtion which leads to the repeal of both.

[328]IF you do not fall in with this motion, then ſecure ſomething to fight for, conſiſtent in theory and valuable in practice. If you muſt employ your ſtrength, employ it to uphold you in ſome honourable right, or ſome profitable wrong. If you are apprehenſive that the conceſſion recommended to you, though proper, ſhould be a means of drawing on you further but unreaſonable claims—why then employ your force in ſupporting that reaſonable conceſſion againſt thoſe unreaſonable demands. You will employ it with more grace; with better effect; and with great probable concurrence of all the quiet and rational people in the provinces; who are now united with, and hurried away by, the violent; having indeed different diſpoſitions, but a common intereſt. If you apprehend that on a conceſſion you ſhall be puſhed by a metaphyſical proceſs to the extreme lines, and argued out of your whole authority, my advice is this; when you have recovered your old, your ſtrong, your tenable poſition, then face about—ſtop ſhort—do nothing more—reaſon not at all—oppoſe the ancient policy and practice of the empire, as a rampart againſt the ſpeculations of innovators on both ſides of the queſtion, and you will ſtand on great, manly, and ſure ground. On this ſolid baſis fix your machines, and they will draw worlds towards you.

YOUR miniſters, in their own and his majeſty's name, have already adopted the American diſtinction of internal and external duties. It is a diſtinction, whatever merit it may have, that was originally moved by the Americans themſelves; and I think they will acquieſce in it, if they are not puſhed with too much logic and too little ſenſe, in all the conſequences. That is, if external taxation be underſtood, as they and you underſtand it when you pleaſe, to be not a diſtinction of geography, [329] but of policy; that it is a power for regulating trade, and not for ſupporting eſtabliſhments. The diſtinction, which is as nothing with regard to right, is of moſt weighty conſideration in practice. Recover your old ground, and your old tranquillity—try it—I am perſuaded the Americans will compromiſe with you. When confidence is once reſtored, the odious and ſuſpicious ſummum jus will periſh of courſe. The ſpirit of practicability, of moderation, and mutual convenience, will never call in geometrical exactneſs as the arbitrator of an amicable ſettlement. Conſult and follow your experience. Let not the long ſtory with which I have exerciſed your patience, prove fruitleſs to your intereſts.

FOR my part, I ſhould chooſe (if I could have my wiſh) that the propoſition of the m hon. gentleman for the repeal, could go to America without the attendance of the penal bills. Alone I could almoſt anſwer for its ſucceſs. I cannot be certain of its reception in the bad company it may keep. In ſuch heterogeneous aſſortments, the moſt innocent perſon will loſe the effect of his innocency. Though you ſhould ſend out this angel of peace, yet you are ſending out a deſtroying angel too; and what would be the effect of the conflict of theſe two adverſe ſpirits, or which would predominate in the end, is what I dare not ſay: whether the lenient meaſures would cauſe American paſſion to ſubſide, or the ſevere would increaſe its fury—All this is in the hand of providence; yet now, even now, I ſhould confide in the prevailing virtue, and efficacious operation of lenity, though working in darkneſs, and in chaos, in the midſt of all this unnatural and turbid combination. I ſhould hope it might produce order and beauty in the end.

[330]LET us, ſir, embrace ſome ſyſtem or other before we end this ſeſſion. Do you mean to tax America, and to draw a productive revenue from thence? if you do, ſpeak out: name, fix, aſcertain this revenue; ſettle its quantity; define its objects; provide for its collection; and then fight when you have ſomething to fight for. If you murder—rob! If you kill, take poſſeſſion; and do not appear in the character of madmen, as well as aſſaſſins, violent, vindictive, bloody, and tyrannical, without an object. But may better counſels guide you!

AGAIN, and again, revert to your old principles—ſeek peace, and enſue it—leave America, if ſhe has taxable matter in her, to tax herſelf. I am not here going into the diſtinctions of rights, nor attempting to mark their boundaries. I do not enter into theſe metaphyſical diſtinctions; I hate the very ſound of them. Leave the Americans as they antiently ſtood; and theſe diſtinctions, born of our unhappy conteſt, will die along with it. They, and we, and their and our anceſtors, have been happy under that ſyſtem. Let the memory of all actions, in contradiction to that good old mode, on both ſides, be extinguiſhed for ever. Be content to bind America by laws of trade; you have always done it. Let this be your reaſon for binding their trade. Do not burthen them by taxes; you were not uſed to do ſo from the beginning. Let this be your reaſon for not taxing. Theſe are the arguments of ſtates and kingdoms. Leave the reſt to the ſchools; for there only they may be diſcuſſed with ſafety. But if, intemperately, unwiſely, fatally, you ſophiſticate and poiſon the very ſource of government, by urging ſubtle deductions, and conſequences odious to thoſe you govern, from the unlimited and illimitable nature of ſupreme ſovereignty, you will teach them by theſe means to call that ſovereignty [331] itſelf in queſtion. When you drive him hard, the boar will ſurely turn upon the hunters. If that ſovereignty and their freedom cannot be reconciled, which will they take? They will caſt your ſovereignty in your face. Nobody will be argued into ſlavery. Sir, let the gentlemen on the other ſide call forth all their ability; let the beſt of them get up, and tell me, what one character of liberty the Americans have, and what one brand of ſlavery they are free from, if they are bound in their property and induſtry, by all the reſtraints you can imagine on commerce, and at the ſame time are made pack-horſes of every tax you chooſe to impoſe, without the leaſt ſhare in granting them? When they bear the burthens of unlimited monopoly, will you bring them to bear the burthens of unlimited revenue too? The Engliſhman in America will feel that this is ſlavery—that it is legal ſlavery, will be no compenſation, either to his feelings or his underſtanding.

A NOBLE Lordn, who ſpoke ſome time ago, is full of the fire of ingenuous youth; and when he has modelled the ideas of a lively imagination by further experience, he will be an ornament to his country in either houſe. He has ſaid, that the Americans are our children; and how can they revolt againſt their parent? He ſays, that if they are not free in their preſent ſtate, England is not free; becauſe Mancheſter, and other conſiderable places, are not repreſented. So then, becauſe ſome towns in England are not repreſented, America is to have no repreſentative at all. They are ‘"our children;"’ but when children aſk for bread, we are not to give a ſtone. Is it becauſe the natural reſiſtance of things, and the various mutations of time, hinders our government, or any ſcheme of government, from being any more than a ſort of approximation [332] to the right, is it therefore that the colonies are to recede from it infinitely? When this child of ours wiſhes to aſſimilate to its parent, and to reflect with a true filial reſemblance the beauteous countenance of Britiſh liberty; are we to turn to them the ſhameful parts of our conſtitution? are we to give them our weakneſs for their ſtrength; our opprobrium for their glory; and the ſlough of ſlavery, which we are not able to work off, to ſerve them for their freedom?

IF this be the caſe, aſk yourſelves this queſtion: will they be content in ſuch a ſtate of ſlavery? If not, look to the conſequences. Reflect how you are to govern a people, who think they ought to be free, and think they are not. Your ſcheme yields no revenue; it yields nothing but diſcontent, diſorder, diſobedience; and ſuch is the ſtate of America, that after wading up to your eyes in blood you could only end juſt where you began; that is, to tax where no revenue is to be found, to—my voice fails me; my inclination indeed carries me no further—all is confuſion beyond it.

WELL, ſir, I have recovered a little, and before I ſit down I muſt ſay ſomething to another point with which gentlemen urge us. What is to be become of the declaratory act aſſerting the entireneſs of Britiſh legiſlative authority, if we abandon the practice of taxation?

FOR my part I look upon the rights ſtated in that act, exactly in the manner in which I viewed them on its very firſt propoſition, and which I have often taken the liberty, with great humility, to lay before you. I look, I ſay, on the imperial rights of Great Britain, and the privileges which the coloniſts ought to enjoy under theſe rights, to be juſt the moſt reconcilable things in the world. [333] The parliament of Great Britain ſits at the head of her extenſive empire in two capacities; one as the local legiſlature of this iſland, providing for all things at home, immediately, and by no other inſtrument than the executive power.—The other, and I think her nobler capacity, is what I call her imperial character; in which, as from the throne of heaven, ſhe ſuperintends all the ſeveral inferior legiſlatures, and guides, and controls them all without annihilating any. As all theſe provincial legiſlatures are only co-ordinate to each other, they ought all to be ſubordinate to her; elſe they can neither preſerve mutual peace, nor hope for mutual juſtice, nor effectually afford mutual aſſiſtance. It is neceſſary to coerce the negligent, to reſtrain the violent, and to aid the weak and deficient, by the over-ruling plenitude of her power. She is never to intrude into the place of the others, whilſt they are equal to the common ends of their inſtitution. But, in order to enable parliament to anſwer all theſe ends of provident and beneficent ſuperintendance, her powers muſt be boundleſs. The gentlemen who think the powers of parliament limited, may pleaſe themſelves to talk of requiſitions. But ſuppoſe the requiſitions are not obeyed? What! ſhall there be no reſerved power in the empire, to ſupply a deficiency which may weaken, divide, and diſſipate the whole? We are engaged in war—the ſecretary of ſtate calls upon the colonies to contribute—ſome would do it, I think moſt would chearfully furniſh whatever is demanded—one or two, ſuppoſe, hang back, and, eaſing themſelves, let the ſtreſs of the draft lie on the others—ſurely it is proper, that ſome authority might legally ſay— ‘"Tax yourſelves for the common ſupply, or parliament will do it for you."’ This backwardneſs was, as I am told, actually the caſe of Pennſylvania for ſome ſhort time towards [334] the beginning of the laſt war, owing to ſome internal diſſentions in the colony. But, whether the fact were ſo, or otherwiſe, the caſe is equally to be provided for by a competent ſovereign power. But then this ought to be no ordinary power; nor ever uſed in the firſt inſtance. This is what I meant, when I have ſaid at various times, that I conſider the power of taxing in parliament as an inſtrument of empire, and not as a means of ſupply.

SUCH, ſir, is my idea of the conſtitution of the Britiſh empire, as diſtinguiſhed from the conſtitution of Britain; and on theſe grounds I think ſubordination and liberty may be ſufficiently reconciled through the whole; whether to ſerve a refining ſpeculatiſt, or a factious demagogue, I know not; but enough ſurely for the eaſe and happineſs of man.

SIR, whilſt we held this happy courſe, we drew more from the colonies than all the impotent violence of deſpotiſm ever could extort from them. We did this abundantly in the laſt war. It has never been once denied—and what reaſon have we to imagine that the colonies would not have proceeded in ſupplying government as liberally, if you had not ſtepped in and hindered them from contributing, by interrupting the channel in which their liberality flowed with ſo ſtrong a courſe; by attempting to take, inſtead of being ſatisfied to receive. Sir William Temple ſays, that Holland has loaded itſelf with ten times the impoſitions which it revolted from Spain rather than ſubmit to. He ſays true. Tyranny is a poor provider. It knows neither how to accumulate, nor how to extract.

I CHARGE therefore to this new and unfortunate ſyſtem the loſs not only of peace, of union, and of [335] commerce, but even of revenue, which its friends are contending for.—It is morally certain, that we have loſt at leaſt a million of free grants ſince the peace. I think we have loſt a great deal more; and that thoſe who look for a revenue from the provinces, never could have purſued, even in that light, a courſe more directly repugnant to their purpoſes.

NOW, ſir, I truſt I have ſhewn, firſt on that narrow ground which the hon. gentleman meaſured, that you are like to loſe nothing by complying with the motion, except what you have loſt already. I have ſhewn afterwards, that in time of peace you flouriſhed in commerce, and when war required it, had ſufficient aid from the colonies, while you purſued your antient policy; that you threw every thing into confuſion when you made the ſtamp-act; and that you reſtored every thing to peace and order when you repealed it. I have ſhewn that the revival of the ſyſtem of taxation has produced the very worſt effects; and that the partial repeal has produced, not partial good, but univerſal evil. Let theſe conſiderations, founded on facts, not one of which can be denied, bring us back to your reaſon by the road of your experience.

I CANNOT, as I have ſaid, anſwer for mixed meaſures; but ſurely this mixture of lenity would give the whole a better chance of ſucceſs. When you once regain confidence, the way will be clear before you. Then you may enforce the act of navigation when it ought to be enforced. You will yourſelves open it where it ought ſtill further to be opened. Proceed in what you do, whatever you do, from policy, and not from rancour. Let us act like men, let us act like ſtateſmen. Let us hold ſome ſort of conſiſtent conduct.—It is agreed [336] that the revenue is not to be had in America. If we loſe the profit, let us get rid of the odium.

ON this buſineſs of America I confeſs I am ſerious, even to ſadneſs. I have had but one opinion concerning it ſince I ſat, and before I ſat, in parliament. The noble lordo will, as uſual, probably, attribute the part taken by me and my friends in this buſineſs, to a deſire of getting his places. Let him enjoy this happy and original idea. If I deprived him of it, I ſhould take away moſt of his wit, and all his argument. But I had rather bear the brunt of all his wit, and indeed blows much heavier, than ſtand anſwerable to God for embracing a ſyſtem that tends to the deſtruction of ſome of the very beſt and faireſt of his works. But I know the map of England, as well as the noble lord,o or as any other perſon; and I know that the way I take is not the road to preferment. My excellent and honourable friend under me on the floorp has trod that road with great toil for upwards of twenty years together. He is not yet arrived at the noble lord's deſtination. However, the tracks of my worthy friend are thoſe I have ever wiſhed to follow; becauſe I know they lead to honour. Long may we tread the ſame road together: whoever may accompany us, or whoever may laugh at us on our journey! I honeſtly and ſolemnly declare, I have in all ſeaſons adhered to the ſyſtem of 1766, for no other reaſon, than that I think it laid deep in your trueſt intereſts—and that, by limiting the exerciſe, it fixes on the firmeſt foundations a real, conſiſtent, well-grounded authority in parliament. Until you come back to that ſyſtem, there will be no peace for England.

SPEECH TO THE ELECTORS ON HIS ARRIVAL AT BRISTOL, AND AT THE CONCLUSION OF THE POLL.

[]

EDITOR'S ADVERTISEMENT.

[]

WE believe there is no need of an apology to the public for offering to them any genuine ſpeeches of Mr. Burke's. The general approbation they met with from all parties at Briſtol, perſuades us that a good edition of them will not be unacceptable; which we own to be the inducement, and we hope is a juſtification, of our offering it.

WE do not preſume to deſcant on the merit of theſe ſpeeches; but as it is no leſs new, than honourable, to find a popular candidate, at a popular election, daring to avow his diſſent to certain points that have been conſidered as very popular objects, and maintaining himſelf on the manly confidence of his own opinion; ſo, we muſt ſay, that it does great credit to the people of England, as it proves to the world, that, to inſure their confidence, it is not neceſſary to flatter them, or to affect a ſubſerviency to their paſſions or their prejudices.

IT may be neceſſary to premiſe, that at the opening of the poll the candidates were lord Clare, Mr. Brickdale, the two laſt members; and Mr. Cruger, a conſiderable merchant at Briſtol. On the ſecond day of the poll lord Clare declined; and a conſiderable [340] body of gentlemen, who had wiſhed that the city of Briſtol ſhould, at this critical ſeaſon, be repreſented by ſome gentleman of tried abilities and known commercial knowledge, immediately put Mr. Burke in nomination. Some of them ſet off expreſs for London, to appriſe that gentleman of this event; but he was gone to Malton in Yorkſhire. The ſpirit and active zeal of theſe gentlemen followed him to Malton. They arrived there juſt after Mr. Burke's election for that place, and invited him to Briſtol.

MR. Burke, as he tells us in his firſt ſpeech, acquainted his conſtituents with the honourable offer that was made him: and, with their conſent, he immediately ſet off for Briſtol on the Tueſday at ſix in the evening; he arrived at Briſtol at half paſt two in the afternoon on Thurſday the 13th of October, being the ſixth day of the poll.

HE drove directly to the mayor's houſe, who not being at home, he proceeded to the Guildhall, where he aſcended the huſtings, and having ſaluted the electors, the ſheriffs, and the two candidates, he repoſed himſelf for a few minutes, and then addreſſed the electors in a ſpeech which was received with great and univerſal applauſe and approbation.

SPEECH ON HIS ARRIVAL AT BRISTOL.

[]
GENTLEMEN,

I AM come hither to ſolicit in perſon, that favour which my friends have hitherto endeavoured to procure for me, by the moſt obliging, and to me the moſt honourable, exertions.

I HAVE ſo high an opinion of the great truſt which you have to confer on this occaſion; and, by long experience, ſo juſt a diffidence in my abilities, to fill it in a manner adequate even to my own ideas, that I ſhould never have ventured of myſelf to intrude into that awful ſituation. But ſince I am called upon by the deſire of ſeveral reſpectable fellow-ſubjects, as I have done at other times, I give up my fears to their wiſhes. Whatever my other deficiencies may be, I do not know what it is to be wanting to my friends.

I AM not fond of attempting to raiſe public expectation by great promiſes. At this time, there is much cauſe to conſider, and very little to preſume. We ſeem to be approaching to a great criſis in our affairs, which calls for the whole wiſdom of the wiſeſt among us, without being able to aſſure ourſelves, that any wiſdom can preſerve us from many and great inconveniencies. You know I [342] ſpeak of our unhappy conteſt with America. I confeſs, it is a matter on which I look down as from a precipice. It is difficult in itſelf, and it is rendered more intricate by a great variety of plans of conduct. I do not mean to enter into them. I will not ſuſpect a want of good intention in framing them. But however pure the intentions of their authors may have been, we all know that the event has been unfortunate. The means of recovering our affairs are not obvious. So many great queſtions of commerce, of finance, of conſtitution, and of policy, are involved in this American deliberation, that I dare engage for nothing, but that I ſhall give it, without any predilection to former opinions, or any ſiniſter bias whatſoever, the moſt honeſt and impartial conſideration of which I am capable. The public has a full right to it; and this great city, a main pillar in the commercial intereſt of Great Britain, muſt totter on its baſe by the ſlighteſt miſtake with regard to our American meaſures.

THUS much, however, I think it not amiſs to lay before you; That I am not, I hope, apt to take up or lay down my opinions lightly. I have held, and ever ſhall maintain, to the beſt of my power, unimpaired and undiminiſhed, the juſt, wiſe, and neceſſary conſtitutional ſuperiority of Great-Britain. This is neceſſary for America, as well as for us. I never mean to depart from it. Whatever may be loſt by it, I avow it. The forfeiture even of your favour, if by ſuch a declaration I could forfeit it, though the firſt object of my ambition never will make me diſguiſe my ſentiments on this ſubject.

BUT—I have ever had a clear opinion, and have ever held a conſtant correſpondent conduct, that this ſuperiority is conſiſtent with all the liberties a ſober and ſpirited American ought to deſire. I never mean to put any coloniſt, or any human [343] creature, in a ſituation, not becoming a free-man. To reconcile Britiſh ſuperiority with American liberty ſhall be my great object, as far as my little faculties extend. I am far from thinking that both, even yet, may not be preſerved.

WHEN I firſt devoted myſelf to the public ſervice, I conſidered how I ſhould render myſelf fit for it; and this I did by endeavouring to diſcover what it was, that gave this country the rank it holds in the world. I found that our proſperity and dignity aroſe principally, if not ſolely, from two ſources; our conſtitution and commerce. Both theſe I have ſpared no ſtudy to underſtand, and no endeavour to ſupport.

THE diſtinguiſhing part of our conſtitution is its liberty. To preſerve that liberty inviolate, ſeems the particular duty and proper truſt of a member of the houſe of commons. But the liberty, the only liberty I mean, is a liberty connected with order; that not only exiſts along with order and virtue, but which cannot exiſt at all without them. It inheres in good and ſteady government, as in its ſubſtance and vital principle.

THE other ſource of our power is commerce, of which you are ſo large a part, and which cannot exiſt, no more than your liberty, without a connection with many virtues. It has ever been a very particular and a very favourite object of my ſtudy, in its principles, and in its details. I think many here are acquainted with the truth of what I ſay. This I know, that I have ever had my houſe open, and my poor ſervices ready, for traders and manufacturers of every denomination. My favourite ambition is to have thoſe ſervices acknowledged. I now appear before you to make trial, whether my earneſt endeavours have been ſo wholly oppreſſed [344] by the weakneſs of my abilities, as to be rendered inſignificant in the eyes of a great trading city; or whether you chuſe to give a weight to humble abilities, for the ſake of the honeſt exertions with which they are accompanied. This is my trial today. My induſtry is not on trial. Of my induſtry I am ſure, as far as my conſtitution of mind and body admitted.

WHEN I was invited by many reſpectable merchants, freeholders, and freemen of this city, to offer them my ſervices, I had juſt received the honour of an election at another place, at a very great diſtance from this. I immediately opened the matter to thoſe of my worthy conſtituents who were with me, and they unanimouſly adviſed me not to decline it. They told me, that they had elected me with a view to the public ſervice; and as great queſtions relative to our commerce and colonies were imminent, that in ſuch matters I might derive authority and ſupport from the repreſentation of this great commercial city; they deſired me therefore to ſet off without delay, very well perſuaded that I never could forget my obligations to them, or to my friends, for the choice they had made of me. From that time to this inſtant I have not ſlept; and if I ſhould have the honour of being freely choſen by you, I hope I ſhall be as far from ſlumbering or ſleeping when your ſervice requires me to be awake, as I have been in coming to offer myſelf a candidate for your favour.

SPEECH TO THE ELECTORS OF BRISTOL, ON Being declared by the Sheriffs duly elected one of the Repreſentatives in Parliament for that City, On Thurſday the 3d of November, 1774.
[]SPEECH AT THE CONCLUSION OF THE POLL.

[]
GENTLEMEN,

I CANNOT avoid ſympathizing ſtrongly with the feelings of the gentleman who has received the ſame honour that you have conferred on me. If he, who was bred and paſſed his whole life amongſt you; if he, who, through the eaſy gradations of acquaintance, friendſhip, and eſteem, has obtained the honour, which ſeems of itſelf, naturally and almoſt inſenſibly, to meet with thoſe, who, by the even tenour of pleaſing manners and ſocial virtues, ſlide into the love and confidence of their fellow-citizens;—if he cannot ſpeak but with great emotion on this ſubject, ſurrounded as he is on all ſides with his old friends; you will have the goodneſs to excuſe me, if my real, unaffected embarraſſment prevents me from expreſſing my gratitude to you as I ought.

I WAS brought hither under the diſadvantage of being unknown, even by ſight, to any of you. No previous canvaſs was made for me, I was put in nomination after the poll was opened. I did not appear until it was far advanced. If, under all theſe accumulated diſadvantages, your good opinion has carried me to this happy point of ſucceſs; you will pardon me, if I can only ſay to you collectively, as I ſaid to you individually, ſimply and [348] plainly, I thank you—I am obliged to you—I am not inſenſible of your kindneſs.

THIS is all that I am able to ſay for the ineſtimable favour you have conferred upon me. But I cannot be ſatisfied, without ſaying a little more in defence of the right you have to confer ſuch a favour. The perſon that appeared here as counſel for the candidate, who ſo long and ſo earneſtly ſolicited your votes, thinks proper to deny, that a very great part of you have any votes to give. He fixes a ſtandard period of time in his own imagination, not what the law defines, but merely what the convenience of his client ſuggeſts, by which he would cut off, at one ſtroke, all thoſe freedoms, which are the deareſt privileges of your corporation; which the common law authorizes; which your magiſtrates are compelled to grant; which come duly authenticated into this court; and are ſaved in the cleareſt words, and with the moſt religious care and tenderneſs, in that very act of parliament, which was made to regulate the elections by freemen, and to prevent all poſſible abuſes in making them.

I DO not intend to argue the matter here. My learned counſel has ſupported your cauſe with his uſual ability; the worthy ſheriffs have acted with their uſual equity, and I have no doubt, that the ſame equity, which dictates the return, will guide the final determination. I had the honour, in conjunction with many far wiſer men, to contribute a very ſmall aſſiſtance, but however ſome aſſiſtance, to the forming the judicature which is to try ſuch queſtions. It would be unnatural in me, to doubt the juſtice of that court, in the trial of my own cauſe, to which I have been ſo active to give juriſdiction over every other.

[349]I ASSURE the worthy freemen, and this corporation, that, if the gentleman perſeveres in the intentions, which his preſent warmth dictates to him, I will attend their cauſe with diligence, and I hope with effect. For, if I know any thing of myſelf, it is not my own intereſt in it, but my full conviction, that induces me to tell you—I think there is not a ſhadow of doubt in the caſe.

I DO not imagine that you find me raſh in declaring myſelf, or very forward in troubling you. From the beginning to the end of the election, I have kept ſilence in all matters of diſcuſſion. I have never aſked a queſtion of a voter on the other ſide, or ſupported a doubtful vote on my own. I reſpected the abilities of my managers; I relied on the candour of the court. I think the worthy ſheriffs will bear me witneſs, that I have never once made an attempt to impoſe upon their reaſon, to ſurprize their juſtice, or to ruffle their temper. I ſtood on the huſtings (except when I gave my thanks to thoſe who favoured me with their votes) leſs like a candidate, than an unconcerned ſpectator of a public proceeding. But here the face of things is altered. Here is an attempt for a general maſſacre of ſuffrages; an attempt, by a promiſcuous carnage of friends and foes, to exterminate above two thouſand votes, including ſeven hundred polled for the gentleman himſelf, who now complains, and who would deſtroy the friends whom he has obtained, only becauſe he cannot obtain as many of them as he wiſhes.

HOW he will be permitted, in another place, to ſtultify and diſable himſelf, and to plead againſt his own acts, is another queſtion. The law will decide it. I ſhall only ſpeak of it as it concerns the propriety of public conduct in this city. I do not pretend to lay down rules of decorum for other gentlemen. [350] They are beſt judges of the mode of proceeding that will recommend them to the favour of their fellow-citizens. But I confeſs, I ſhould look rather aukward, if I had been the very firſt to produce the new copies of freedom, if I had perſiſted in producing them to the laſt; if I had ranſacked, with the moſt unremitting induſtry, and the moſt penetrating reſearch, the remoteſt corners of the kingdom to diſcover them; if I were then, all at once, to turn ſhort, and declare, that I had been ſporting all this while with the right of election: and that I had been drawing out a poll, upon no ſort of rational grounds, which diſturbed the peace of my fellow-citizens for a month together—I really, for my part, ſhould appear aukward under ſuch circumſtances.

IT would be ſtill more aukward in me, if I were gravely to look the ſheriffs in the face, and to tell them, they were not to determine my cauſe on my own principles; nor to make the return upon thoſe votes, upon which I had reſted my election. Such would be my appearance to the court and magiſtrates.

BUT how ſhould I appear to the Voters themſelves? If I had gone round to the citizens intitled to freedom, and ſqueezed them by the hand— ‘"Sir, I humbly beg your vote—I ſhall be eternally thankful—may I hope for the honour of your ſupport?—Well!—come—we ſhall ſee you at the council-houſe."’ —If I were then to deliver them to my managers, pack them into tallies, vote them off in court, and when I heard from the bar— ‘"Such a one only! and ſuch a one for ever!—he's my man!"—"Thank you, good ſir—Hah! my worthy friend! thank you kindly—that's an honeſt fellow—how is your good family?"’ —Whilſt theſe words were [351] hardly out of my mouth, if I ſhould have wheeled round at once, and told them— ‘"Get you gone, you pack of worthleſs fellows! you have no votes—you are uſurpers! you are intruders on the rights of real freemen! I will have nothing to do with you! you ought never to have been produced at this election, and the ſheriffs ought not to have admitted you to poll."’

GENTLEMEN, I ſhould make a ſtrange figure, if my conduct had been of this ſort. I am not ſo old an acquaintance of yours as the worthy gentleman. Indeed I could not have ventured on ſuch kind of freedoms with you. But I am bound, and I will endeavour, to have juſtice done to the rights of freemen; even though I ſhould, at the ſame time, be obliged to vindicate the former a part of my antagoniſt's conduct againſt his own preſent inclinations.

I OWE myſelf, in all things, to all the freemen of this city. My particular friends have a demand on me, that I ſhould not deceive their expectations. Never was cauſe or man ſupported with more conſtancy, more activity, more ſpirit. I have been ſupported with a zeal indeed and heartineſs in my friends, which (if their object had been at all proportioned to their endeavours) could never be ſufficiently commended. They ſupported me upon the moſt liberal principles. They wiſhed that the members for Briſtol ſhould be choſen for the city, and for their country at large, and not for themſelves.

SO far they are not diſappointed. If I poſſeſs nothing elſe, I am ſure I poſſeſs the temper that is [352] fit for your ſervice. I know nothing of Briſtol, but by the favours I have received, and the virtues I have ſeen exerted in it.

I SHALL ever retain, what I now feel, the moſt perfect and grateful attachment to my friends—and I have no enmities; no reſentment. I never can conſider fidelity to engagements, and conſtancy in friendſhips, but with the higheſt approbation; even when thoſe noble qualities are employed againſt my own pretenſions. The gentleman, who is not fortunate as I have been in this conteſt, enjoys, in this reſpect, a conſolation full of honour both to himſelf and to his friends. They have certainly left nothing undone for his ſervice.

AS for the trifling petulance, which the rage of party ſtirs up in little minds, though it ſhould ſhew itſelf even in this court, it has not made the ſlighteſt impreſſion on me. The higheſt flight of ſuch clamorous birds is winged in an inferior region of the air. We hear them, and we look upon them, juſt as you, gentlemen, when you enjoy the ſerene air on your lofty rocks, look down upon the gulls, that ſkim the mud of your river, when it is exhauſted of its tide.

I AM ſorry I cannot conclude, without ſaying a word on a topic touched upon by my worthy colleague. I wiſh that topic had been paſſed by; at a time when I have ſo little leiſure to diſcuſs it. But ſince he has thought proper to throw it out, I owe you a clear explanation of my poor ſentiments on that ſubject.

HE tells you, that ‘"the topic of inſtructions has occaſioned much altercation and uneaſineſs in this city;"’ and he expreſſes himſelf (if I underſtand him rightly) in favour of the coercive authority of ſuch inſtructions.

[353]CERTAINLY, gentlemen, it ought to be the happineſs and glory of a repreſentative, to live in the ſtricteſt union, the cloſeſt correſpondence, and the moſt unreſerved communication with his conſtituents. Their wiſhes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion high reſpect; their buſineſs unremitted attention. It is his duty to ſacrifice his repoſe, his pleaſures, his ſatisfactions, to theirs; and, above all, ever, and in all caſes, to prefer their intereſt to his own. But, his unbiaſſed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conſcience, he ought not to ſacrifice to you; to any man, or to any ſet of men living. Theſe he does not derive from your pleaſure; no, nor from the law and the conſtitution. They are a truſt from Providence, for the abuſe of which he is deeply anſwerable. Your repreſentative owes you, not his induſtry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, inſtead of ſerving you, if he ſacrifices it to your opinion.

MY worthy colleague ſays, his will ought to be ſubſervient to yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If government were a matter of will upon any ſide, yours, without queſtion, ought to be ſuperior. But government and legiſlation are matters of reaſon and judgment, and not of inclination; and, what ſort of reaſon is that, in which the determination precedes the diſcuſſion; in which one ſet of men deliberate, and another decide; and where thoſe who form the concluſion are perhaps three hundred miles diſtant from thoſe who hear the arguments?

TO deliver an opinion, is the right of all men; that of conſtituents is a weighty and reſpectable opinion, which a repreſentative ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always moſt ſeriouſly to conſider. But authoritative inſtructions; [354] mandates iſſued, which the member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the cleareſt conviction of his judgment and conſcience; theſe are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land, and which ariſe from a fundamental miſtake of the whole order and tenour of our conſtitution.

PARLIAMENT is not a congreſs of ambaſſadors from different and hoſtile intereſts; which intereſts each muſt maintain, as an agent and advocate, againſt other agents and advocates; but parliament is a deliberative aſſembly of one nation, with one intereſt, that of the whole; where, not local purpoſes, not local prejudices ought to guide, but the general good, reſulting from the general reaſon of the whole. You chuſe a member indeed; but when you have choſen him, he is not member of Briſtol, but he is a member of parliament. If the local conſtituent ſhould have an intereſt, or ſhould form an haſty opinion, evidently oppoſite to the real good of the reſt of the community, the member for that place ought to be as far, as any other, from any endeavour to give it effect. I beg pardon for ſaving ſo much on this ſubject. I have been unwillingly drawn into it; but I ſhall ever uſe a reſpectful frankneſs of communication with you. Your faithful friend, your devoted ſervant, I ſhall be to the end of my life: a flatterer you do not wiſh for. On this point of inſtructions, however, I think it ſcarcely poſſible, we ever can have any ſort of difference. Perhaps I may give you too much, rather than too little trouble.

FROM the firſt hour I was encouraged to court your favour to this happy day of obtaining it, I have never promiſed you any thing, but humble and perſevering endeavours to do my duty. The weight of that duty, I confeſs, makes me tremble, and whoever well conſiders what it is, of all things [355] in the world will fly from what has the leaſt likeneſs to a poſitive and precipitate engagement. To be a good member of parliament, is, let me tell you, no eaſy taſk; eſpecially at this time, when there is ſo ſtrong a diſpoſition to run into the perilous extremes of ſervile compliance, or wild popularity. To unite circumſpection with vigour, is abſolutely neceſſary; but it is extremely difficult. We are now members for a rich commercial city; this city, however, is but a part of a rich commercial nation, the intereſts of which are various, multiform, and intricate. We are members for that great nation, which however is itſelf but part of a great empire, extended by our virtue and our fortune to the fartheſt limits of the eaſt and of the weſt. All theſe wide-ſpread intereſts muſt be conſidered; muſt be compared; muſt be reconciled if poſſible. We are members for a free country; and ſurely we all know, that the machine of a free conſtitution is no ſimple thing; but as intricate and as delicate, as it is valuable. We are members in a great and ancient monarchy; and we muſt preſerve religiouſly, the true legal rights of the ſovereign, which form the key-ſtone that binds together the noble and well-conſtructed arch of our empire and our conſtitution. A conſtitution made up of balanced powers muſt ever be a critical thing. As ſuch I mean to touch that part of it which comes within my reach. I know my inability, and I wiſh for ſupport from every quarter. In particular I ſhall aim at the friendſhip, and ſhall cultivate the beſt correſpondence, of the worthy colleague you have given me.

I TROUBLE you no farther than once more to thank you all; you, gentlemen, for your favours; the candidates for their temperate and polite behaviour; and the ſheriffs, for a conduct which may give a model for all who are in public ſtations.

SPEECH ON MOVING HIS RESOLUTIONS FOR A CONCILIATION WITH THE COLONIES. MARCH 22, 1775.

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SPEECH FOR A CONCILIATION WITH THE COLONIES.

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I HOPE, ſir, that, notwithſtanding the auſterity of the chair, your good-nature will incline you to ſome degree of indulgence towards human frailty. You will not think it unnatural, that thoſe who have an object depending, which ſtrongly engages their hopes and fears, ſhould be ſomewhat inclined to ſuperſtition. As I came into the houſe full of anxiety about the event of my motion, I found to my infinite ſurprize, that the grand penal bill, by which we had paſſed ſentence on the trade and ſuſtenance of America, is to be returned to us from the other houſea. I do confeſs, I could not help looking on this event as a fortunate omen. I look upon it as a ſort of providential favour; by which we are put once more in poſſeſſion of our deliberative capacity, upon a buſineſs ſo very queſtionable in its nature, ſo very uncertain in its iſſue. By the return of this bill, which ſeemed to have taken its flight for ever, [360] we are at this very inſtant nearly as free to chuſe a plan for our American government, as we were on the firſt day of the ſeſſion. If, ſir, we incline to the ſide of conciliation, we are not at all embarraſſed (unleſs we pleaſe to make ourſelves ſo) by any incongruous mixture of coercion and reſtraint. We are therefore called upon, as it were by a ſuperior warning voice, again to attend to America; to attend to the whole of it together; and to review the ſubject with an unuſual degree of care and calmneſs.

SURELY it is an awful ſubject; or there is none ſo on this ſide of the grave. When I firſt had the honour of a ſeat in this houſe, the affairs of that continent preſſed themſelves upon us, as the moſt important and moſt delicate object of parliamentary attention. My little ſhare in this great deliberation oppreſſed me. I found myſelf a partaker in a very high truſt; and having no ſort of reaſon to rely on the ſtrength of my natural abilities for the proper execution of that truſt, I was obliged to take more than common pains, to inſtruct myſelf in every thing which relates to our colonies. I was not leſs under the neceſſity of forming ſome fixed ideas, concerning the general policy of the Britiſh Empire. Something of this ſort ſeemed to be indiſpenſable; in order, amidſt ſo vaſt a fluctuation of paſſions and opinions, to concenter my thoughts; to ballaſt my conduct; to preſerve me from being blown about by every wind of faſhionable doctrine. I really did not think it ſafe, or manly, to have freſh principles to ſeek upon every freſh mail which ſhould arive from America.

AT that period, I had the fortune to find myſelf in perfect concurrence with a large majority in this houſe. Bowing under that high authority, and penetrated with the ſharpneſs and ſtrength of that [361] early impreſſion, I have continued ever ſince, without the leaſt deviation, in my original ſentiments. Whether this be owing to an obſtinate perſeverance in error, or to a religious adherence to what appears to me truth and reaſon, it is in your equity to judge.

SIR, parliament having an enlarged view of objects, made, during this interval, more frequent changes in their ſentiments and their conduct, than could be juſtified in a particular perſon upon the contracted ſcale of private information. But though I do not hazard any thing approaching to a cenſure on the motives of former parliaments to all thoſe alterations, one fact is undoubted; that under them the ſtate of America has been kept in continual agitation. Every thing adminiſtered as remedy to the public complaint, if it did not produce, was at leaſt followed by, an heightening of the diſtemper; until, by a variety of experiments, that important country has been brought into her preſent ſituation;—a ſituation, which I will not miſcall, which I dare not name; which I ſcarcely know how to comprehend in the terms of any deſcription.

IN this poſture, ſir, things ſtood at the beginning of the ſeſſion. About that time a worthy memberb of great parliamentary experience, who in the year 1766, filled the chair of the American committee with much ability, took me aſide; and, lamenting the preſent aſpect of our politics, told me, things were come to ſuch a paſs, that our former methods of proceeding in the houſe would be no longer tolerated. That the public tribunal (never too indulgent to a long and unſucceſsful oppoſition) would now ſcrutinize our conduct with unuſual ſeverity. That the very viciſſitudes and ſhiftings of miniſterial [362] meaſures, inſtead of convicting their authors of inconſtancy and want of ſyſtem, would be taken as an occaſion of charging us with a predetermined diſcontent, which nothing could ſatisfy; whilſt we accuſed every meaſure of vigour as cruel, and every propoſal of lenity as weak and irreſolute. The public, he ſaid, would not have patience to ſee us play the game out with our adverſaries: we muſt produce our hand. It would be expected, that thoſe who for many years had been active in ſuch affairs ſhould ſhew, that they had formed ſome clear and decided idea of the principles of colony government; and were capable of drawing out ſomething like a platform of the ground, which might be laid for future and permanent tranquillity.

I FELT the truth of what my hon. friend repreſented: but I felt my ſituation too. His application might have been made with far greater propriety to many other gentlemen. No man was indeed ever better diſpoſed, or worſe qualified, for ſuch an undertaking than myſelf. Though I gave ſo far into his opinion, that I immediately threw my thoughts into a ſort of parliamentary form, I was by no means equally ready to produce them. It generally argues ſome degree of natural impotence of mind, or ſome want of knowledge of the world, to hazard plans of government, except from a ſeat of authority. Propoſitions are made, not only ineffectually, but ſomewhat diſreputably, when the minds of men are not properly diſpoſed for their reception; and for my part, I am not ambitious of ridicule; not abſolutely a candidate for diſgrace.

BESIDES, ſir, to ſpeak the plain truth, I have in general no very exalted opinion of the virtue of paper government; nor of any politics, in which the plan is to be wholly ſeparated from the execution. [363] But when I ſaw, that anger and violence prevailed every day more and more; and that things were haſtening towards an incurable alienation of our colonies; I confeſs, my caution gave way. I felt this, as one of thoſe few moments in which decorum yields to an higher duty. Public calamity is a mighty leveller; and there are occaſions when any, even the ſlighteſt, chance of doing good, muſt be laid hold on, even by the moſt inconſiderable perſon.

TO reſtore order and repoſe to an empire ſo great and ſo diſtracted as ours, is, merely in the attempt, an undertaking that would ennoble the flights of the higheſt genius, and obtain pardon for the efforts of the meaneſt underſtanding. Struggling a good while with theſe thoughts, by degrees I felt myſelf more firm. I derived, at length, ſome confidence from what in other circumſtances uſually produces timidity. I grew leſs anxious, even from the idea of my own inſignificance. For, judging of what you are, by what you ought to be, I perſuaded myſelf, that you would not reject a reaſonable propoſition, becauſe it had nothing but its reaſon to recommend it. On the other hand, being totally deſtitute of all ſhadow of influence, natural or adventitious, I was very ſure, that, if my propoſition were futile or dangerous; if it were weakly conceived, or improperly timed, there was nothing exterior to it, of power to awe, dazzle, or delude you. You will ſee it juſt as it is; and you will treat it juſt as it deſerves.

THE propoſition is peace. Not peace through the medium of war; not peace to be hunted through the labyrinth of intricate and endleſs negociations; not peace to ariſe out of univerſal diſcord, fomented, from principle, in all parts of the empire; not peace to depend on the juridical determination [364] of perplexing queſtions; or the preciſe marking the ſhadowy boundaries of a complex government. It is ſimple peace; ſought in its natural courſe, and its ordinary haunts.—It is peace ſought in the ſpirit of peace; and laid in principles purely pacific. I propoſe, by removing the ground of the difference, and by reſtoring the former unſuſpecting confidence of the colonies in the mother country, to give permanent ſatisfaction to your people; and (far from a ſcheme of ruling by diſcord) to reconcile them to each other in the ſame act, and by the bond of the very ſame intereſt, which reconciles them to Britiſh government.

MY idea is nothing more. Refined policy ever has been the parent of confuſion; and ever will be ſo, as long as the world endures. Plain good intention, which is as eaſily diſcovered at the firſt view, as fraud is ſurely detected at laſt, is, let me ſay, of no mean force in the government of mankind. Genuine ſimplicity of heart is an healing and cementing principle. My plan, therefore, being formed upon the moſt ſimple grounds imaginable, may diſappoint ſome people, when they hear it. It has nothing to recommend it to the pruriency of curious ears. There is nothing at all new and captivating in it. It has nothing of the ſplendour of the project, which has been lately laid upon your table by the noble lord in the blue ribband.c It does not propoſe to fill your lobby [365] with ſquabbling colony agents, who will require the interpoſition of your mace, at every inſtant, to keep the peace amongſt them. It does not inſtitute a magnificent auction of finance, where captivated provinces come to general ranſom by bidding againſt each other, until you knock down the hammer, and determine a proportion of payments, beyond all the powers of algebra to equalize and ſettle.

THE plan, which I ſhall preſume to ſuggeſt, derives, however, one great advantage from the propoſition and regiſtry of that noble lord's project. The idea of conciliation is admiſſible. Firſt, the houſe, in accepting the reſolution moved by the noble lord, has admitted, notwithſtanding the menacing front of our addreſs, notwithſtanding our heavy bill of pains and penalties—that we do not think ourſelves precluded from all ideas of free grace and bounty.

THE houſe has gone farther; it has declared conciliation admiſſible, previous to any ſubmiſſion on the part of America. It has even ſhot a good deal beyond that mark, and has admitted, that the complaints of our former mode of exerting the right of taxation were not wholly unfounded. That right thus exerted is allowed to have had ſomething reprehenſible in it; ſomething unwiſe, or ſomething [366] grievous: ſince, in the midſt of our heat and reſentment, we, of ourſelves, have propoſed a capital alteration; and, in order to get rid of what ſeemed ſo very exceptionable, have inſtituted a mode that is altogether new; one that is, indeed, wholly alien from all the ancient methods and forms of parliament.

THE principle of this proceeding is large enough for my purpoſe. The means propoſed by the noble lord for carrying his ideas into execution, I think indeed, are very indifferently ſuited to the end; and this I ſhall endeavour to ſhew you before I ſit down. But, for the preſent, I take my ground on the admitted principle. I mean to give peace. Peace implies reconciliation; and where there has been a material diſpute, reconciliation does in a manner always imply conceſſion on the one part or on the other. In this ſtate of things I make no difficulty in affirming, that the propoſal ought to originate from us. Great and acknowledged force is not impaired, either in effect or in opinion, by an unwillingneſs to exert itſelf. The ſuperior power may offer peace with honour and with ſafety. Such an offer from ſuch a power will be attributed to magnanimity. But the conceſſions of the weak are the conceſſions of fear. When ſuch a one is diſarmed, he is wholly at the mercy of his ſuperior; and he loſes for ever that time and thoſe chances, which, as they happen to all men, are the ſtrength and reſources of all inferior power.

THE capital leading queſtions on which you muſt this day decide, are theſe two. Firſt, whether you ought to concede; and ſecondly, what your conceſſion ought to be. On the firſt of theſe queſtions we have gained (as I have juſt taken the liberty of obſerving to you) ſome ground. But I am ſenſible that a good deal more is ſtill to be [367] done. Indeed, ſir, to enable us to determine both on the one and the other of theſe great queſtions with a firm and preciſe judgment, I think it may be neceſſary to conſider diſtinctly the true nature and the peculiar circumſtances of the object which we have before us. Becauſe after all our ſtruggle, whether we will or not, we muſt govern America, according to that nature, and to thoſe circumſtances; and not according to our own imaginations; not according to abſtract ideas of right; by no means according to mere general theories of government, the reſort to which appears to me, in our preſent ſituation, no better than arrant trifling. I ſhall therefore endeavour, with your leave, to lay before you ſome of the moſt material of theſe circumſtances in as full and as clear a manner as I am able to ſtate them.

THE firſt thing that we have to conſider with regard to the nature of the object is—the number of people in the colonies. I have taken for ſome years a good deal of pains on that point. I can by no calculation juſtify myſelf in placing the number below two millions of inhabitants of our own European blood and colour; beſides at leaſt 500.000 others, who form no inconſiderable part of the ſtrength and opulence of the whole. This, ſir, is, I believe, about the true number. There is no occaſion to exaggerate, where plain truth is of ſo much weight and importance. But whether I put the preſent numbers too high or too low, is a matter of little moment. Such is the ſtrength with which population ſhoots in that part of the world, that ſtate the numbers as high as we will, whilſt the diſpute continues, the exaggeration ends. Whilſt we are diſcuſſing any given magnitude, they are grown to it. Whilſt we ſpend our time in deliberating on the mode of governing two millions, [368] we ſhall find we have millions more to manage. Your children do not grow faſter from infancy to manhood, than they ſpread from families to communities, and from villages to nations.

I PUT this conſideration of the preſent and the growing numbers in the front of our deliberation; becauſe, ſir, this conſideration will make it evident to a blunter diſcernment than yours, that no partial, narrow, contracted, pinched, occaſional ſyſtem will be at all ſuitable to ſuch an object. It will ſhew you, that it is not to be conſidered as one of thoſe minima which are out of the eye and conſideration of the law; not a paltry excreſcence of the ſtate; not a mean dependant, who may be neglected with little damage, and provoked with little danger. It will prove, that ſome degree of care and caution is required in the handling ſuch an object; it will ſhew, that you ought not, in reaſon, to trifle with ſo large a maſs of the intereſts and feelings of the human race. You could at no time do ſo without guilt; and be aſſured you will not be able to do it long with impunity.

BUT the population of this country, the great and growing population, though a very important conſideration, will loſe much of its weight, if not combined with other circumſtances. The commerce of your colonies is out of all proportion beyond the numbers of the people. This ground of their commerce indeed has been trod ſome days ago, and with great ability, by a diſtinguiſhed d perſon, at your bar. This gentleman, after thirty-five years—it is ſo long ſince he firſt appeared at the ſame place to plead for the commerce of Great Britain—has come again before you to plead the ſame cauſe, without any other effect of time, than, that to the fire of imagination and extent of [369] erudition, which even then marked him as one of the firſt literary characters of his age, he has added a conſummate knowledge in the commercial intereſt of his country, formed by a long courſe of enlightened and diſcriminating experience.

SIR, I ſhould be inexcuſable in coming after ſuch a perſon with any detail; if a great part of the members who now fill the houſe had not the misfortune to be abſent, when he appeared at your bar. Beſides, ſir, I propoſe to take the matter at periods of time ſomewhat different from his. There is, if I miſtake not, a point of view, from whence if you will look at this ſubject, it is impoſſible that it ſhould not make an impreſſion upon you.

I HAVE in my hand two accounts; one a comparative ſtate of the export trade of England to its colonies, as it ſtood in the year 1704, and as it ſtood in the year 1772. The other a ſtate of the export trade of this country to its colonies alone, as it ſtood in 1772, compared with the whole trade of England to all parts of the world (the colonies included) in the year 1704. They are from good vouchers; the latter period from the accounts on your table, the earlier from an original manuſcript of Davenant, who firſt eſtabliſhed the inſpector general's office, which has been ever ſince his time ſo abundant a ſource of parliamentary information.

THE export trade to the colonies conſiſts of three great branches. The African, which, terminating almoſt wholly in the colonies, muſt be put to the account of their commerce; the Weſt Indian; and the North American. All theſe are ſo interwoven, that the attempt to ſeparate them, would tear to pieces the contexture of the whole; and if not entirely deſtroy, would very much depreciate [370] the value of all the parts. I therefore conſider theſe three denominations to be, what in effect they are, one trade.

THE trade to the colonies, taken on the export ſide, at the beginning of this century, that is, in the year 1704, ſtood thus:

  £.
Exports to North America, and the Weſt Indies, 483.265
To Africa, 86.665
 £.569.930

In the year 1772, which I take as a middle year between the higheſt and loweſt of thoſe lately laid on your table, the account was as follows:

  £.
To North America, and the Weſt Indies, 4.791.734
To Africa, 866.398
To which if you add the export trade from Scotland, which had in 1704 no exiſtence, 364.000
 £.6.024.171

FROM five hundred and odd thouſand, it has grown to ſix millions. It has increaſed no leſs than twelve-fold. This is the ſtate of the colony trade, as compared with itſelf at theſe two periods, within this century;—and this is matter for meditation. But this is not all. Examine my ſecond account. See how the export trade to the colonies alone in 1772 ſtood in the other point of view, that is, as compared to the whole trade of England in 1704.

  £.
The whole export trade of England, including that to the colonies, in 1704, 6.509.000
Export to the colonies alone, in 1772, 6.024.000
 Difference,485.000

THE trade with America alone is now within leſs than 500.000l. of being equal to what this great commercial nation, England, carried on at the beginning of this century with the whole world! If I had taken the largeſt year of thoſe on your table, it would rather have exceeded. But, it will be ſaid, is not this American trade an unnatural protuberance, that has drawn the juices from the reſt of the body? The reverſe. It is the very food that has nouriſhed every other part into its preſent magnitude. Our general trade has been greatly augmented; and augmented more or leſs in almoſt every part to which it ever extended; but with this material difference; that of the ſix millions which in the beginning of the century conſtituted the whole maſs of our export commerce, the colony trade was but one twelfth part; it is now (as a part of ſixteen millions) conſiderably more than a third of the whole. This is the relative proportion of the importance of the colonies at theſe two periods: and all reaſoning concerning our mode of treating them muſt have this proportion as its baſis; or it is a reaſoning weak, rotten, and ſophiſtical.

MR. SPEAKER, I cannot prevail on myſelf to hurry over this great conſideration. It is good for us to be here. We ſtand where we have an immenſe view of what is, and what is paſt. Clouds indeed, and darkneſs, reſt upon the future. Let us however, before we deſcend from this noble [172] eminence, reflect that this growth of our national proſperity has happened within the ſhort period of the life of man. It has happened within ſixty-eight years. There are thoſe alive whoſe memory might touch the two extremities. For inſtance, my lord Bathurſt might remember all the ſtages of the progreſs. He was in 1704 of an age, at leaſt to be made to comprehend ſuch things. He was then old enough acta parentum jam legere, et quae ſit poterit cognoſcere virtus—Suppoſe, ſir, that the angel of this auſpicious youth, foreſeeing the many virtues, which made him one of the moſt amiable, as he is one of the moſt fortunate men of his age, had opened to him in viſion, that, when, in the fourth generation, the third prince of the houſe of Brunſwick had ſat twelve years on the throne of that nation, which (by the happy iſſue of moderate and healing councils) was to be made Great Britain, he ſhould ſee his ſon, lord chancellor of England, turn back the current of hereditary dignity to its fountain, and raiſe him to an higher rank of peerage, whilſt he enriched the family with a new one—If amidſt theſe bright and happy ſcenes of domeſtic honour and proſperity, that angel ſhould have drawn up the curtain, and unfolded the riſing glories of his country, and whilſt he was gazing with admiration on the then commercial grandeur of England, the genius ſhould point out to him a little ſpeck, ſcarce viſible in the maſs of the national intereſt, a ſmall ſeminal principle, rather than a formed body, and ſhould tell him— ‘"Young man, There is America—which at this day ſerves for little more than to amuſe you with ſtories of ſavage men, and uncouth manners; yet ſhall, before you taſte of death, ſhew itſelf equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world. Whatever England has been growing [373] to by a progreſſive increaſe of improvement, brought in by varieties of people, by ſucceſſion of civilizing conqueſts and civilizing ſettlements in a ſeries of ſeventeen hundred years, you ſhall ſee as much added to her by America in the courſe of a ſingle life!"’ If this ſtate of his country had been foretold to him, would it not require all the ſanguine credulity of youth, and all the fervid glow of enthuſiaſm, to make him believe it? Fortunate man, he has lived to ſee it! Fortunate indeed, if he lives to ſee nothing that ſhall vary the proſpect, and cloud the ſetting of his day!

EXCUSE me, ſir, if turning from ſuch thoughts I reſume this comparative view once more. You have ſeen it on a large ſcale; look at it on a ſmall one. I will point out to your attention a particular inſtance of it in the ſingle province of Penſylvania. In the year 1704 that province called for 11.459l. in value of your commodities, native and foreign. This was the whole. What did it demand in 1772? Why nearly fifty times as much; for in that year the export to Penſylvania was 507.909l. nearly equal to the export to all the colonies together in the firſt period.

I CHOOSE, ſir, to enter into theſe minute and particular details; becauſe generalities, which in all other caſes are apt to heighten and raiſe the ſubject, have here a tendency to ſink it. When we ſpeak of the commerce with our colonies, fiction lags after truth; invention is unfruitful, and imagination cold and barren.

So far, ſir, as to the importance of the object in the view of its commerce, as concerned in the exports from England. If I were to detail the imports, I could ſhew how many enjoyments they [374] procure, which deceive the burthen of life; how many materials which invigorate the ſprings of national induſtry, and extend and animate every part of our foreign and domeſtic commerce. This would be a curious ſubject indeed—but I muſt preſcribe bounds to myſelf in a matter ſo vaſt and various.

I PASS therefore to the colonies in another point of view, their agriculture. This they have proſecuted with ſuch a ſpirit, that, beſides feeding plentifully their own growing multitude, their annual export of grain, comprehending rice, has ſome years ago exceeded a million in value. Of their laſt harveſt, I am perſuaded, they will export much more. At the beginning of the century, ſome of theſe colonies imported corn from the mother country. For ſome time paſt, the old world has been fed from the new. The ſcarcity which you have felt would have been a deſolating famine; if this child of your old age, with a true filial piety, with a Roman charity, had not put the full breaſt of its youthful exuberance to the mouth of its exhauſted parent.

AS to the wealth which the colonies have drawn from the ſea by their fiſheries, you had all that matter fully opened at your bar. You ſurely thought thoſe acquiſitions of value; for they ſeemed even to excite your envy; and yet the ſpirit, by which that enterprizing employment has been exerciſed, ought rather, in my opinion, to have raiſed your eſteem and admiration. And pray, ſir, what in the world is equal to it? Paſs by the other parts, and look at the manner in which the people of New England have of late carried on the whale fiſhery. Whilſt we follow them among the jumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the deepeſt frozen receſſes of Hudſon's [375] Bay, and Davis's Streights, whilſt we are looking for them beneath the Arctic circle, we hear that they have pierced into the oppoſite region of polar cold, that they are at the Antipodes, and engaged under the frozen ſerpent of the ſouth. Falkland Iſland, which ſeemed too remote and romantic an object for the graſp of national ambition, is but a ſtage and reſting-place in the progreſs of their victorious induſtry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more diſcouraging to them, than the accumulated winter of both the poles. We know that whilſt ſome of them draw the line and ſtrike the harpoon on the coaſt of Africa, others run the longitude, and purſue their gigantic game along the coaſt of Brazil. No ſea but what is vexed by their fiſheries. No climate that is not witneſs to their toils. Neither the perſeverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the dextrous and firm ſagacity of Engliſh enterprize, ever carried this moſt perilous mode of hardy induſtry to the extent to which it has been puſhed by this recent people; a people who are ſtill, as it were, but in the griſtle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood. When I contemplate theſe things; when I know that the colonies in general owe little or nothing to any care of ours, and that they are not ſqueezed into this happy form by the conſtraints of watchful and ſuſpicious government, but that through a wiſe and ſalutary neglect, a generous nature has been ſuffered to take her own way to perfection: when I reflect upon theſe effects, when I ſee how profitable they have been to us, I feel all the pride of power ſink, and all preſumption in the wiſdom of human contrivances melt, and die away within me. My rigour relents. I pardon ſomething to the ſpirit of liberty.

I AM ſenſible, ſir, that all which I have aſſerted in my detail, is admitted in the groſs; but that [376] quite a different concluſion is drawn from it. America, gentlemen ſay, is a noble object. It is an object well worth fighting for. Certainly it is, if fighting a people be the beſt way of gaining them. Gentlemen in this reſpect will be led to their choice of means by their complexions and their habits. Thoſe who underſtand the military art, will of courſe have ſome predilection for it. Thoſe who wield the thunder of the ſtate, may have more confidence in the efficacy of arms. But I confeſs, poſſibly for want of this knowledge, my opinion is much more in favour of prudent management, than of force; conſidering force not as an odious, but a feeble inſtrument, for preſerving a people ſo numerous, ſo active, ſo growing, ſo ſpirited as this, in a profitable and ſubordinate connexion with us.

FIRST, ſir, permit me to obſerve, that the uſe of force alone is but temporary. It may ſubdue for a moment; but it does not remove the neceſſity of ſubduing again: and a nation is not governed, which is perpetually to be conquered.

MY next objection is its uncertainty. Terror is not always the effect of force; and an armament is not a victory. If you do not ſucceed, you are without reſource; for, conciliation failing, force remains; but, force failing, no further hope of reconciliation is reſt. Power and authority are ſometimes bought by kindneſs; but they can never be begged as alms, by an impoveriſhed and defeated violence.

A FURTHER objection to force is, that you impair the object by your very endeavours to preſerve it. The thing you fought for, is not the thing which you recover; but depreciated, ſunk, waſted, and conſumed in the conteſt. Nothing leſs will content me, than whole America. I do not chooſe [377] to conſume its ſtrength along with our own; becauſe in all parts it is the Britiſh ſtrength that I conſume. I do not chooſe to be caught by a foreign enemy at the end of this exhauſting conflict; and ſtill leſs in the midſt of it. I may eſcape; but I can make no inſurance againſt ſuch an event. Let me add, that I do not chooſe wholly to break the American ſpirit, becauſe it is the ſpirit that has made the country.

LASTLY, we have no ſort of experience in favour of force as an inſtrument in the rule of our colonies. Their growth and their utility has been owing to methods altogether different. Our ancient indulgence has been ſaid to be purſued to a fault. It may be ſo. But we know, if feeling is evidence, that our fault was more tolerable than our attempt to mend it; and our ſin far more ſalutary than our penitence.

THESE, ſir, are my reaſons for not entertaining that high opinion of untried force, by which many gentlemen, for whoſe ſentiments in other particulars I have great reſpect, ſeem to be ſo greatly captivated. But there is ſtill behind a third conſideration concerning this object, which ſerves to determine my opinion on the ſort of policy which ought to be purſued in the management of America, even more than its population and its commerce, I mean its temper and character.

IN this character of the Americans, a love of freedom is the predominating feature, which marks and diſtinguiſhes the whole: and as an ardent is always a jealous affection, your colonies become ſuſpicious, reſtive, and untractable, whenever they ſee the leaſt attempt to wreſt from them by force, or ſhuffle from them by chicane, what they think the only advantage worth living for. This fierce ſpirit [378] of liberty is ſtronger in the Engliſh colonies probably than in any other people of the earth; and this from a great variety of powerful cauſes; which, to underſtand the true temper of their minds, and the direction which this ſpirit takes, it will not be amiſs to lay open ſomewhat more largely.

FIRST, the people of the colonies are deſcendents of Engliſhmen. England, ſir, is a nation, which ſtill I hope reſpects, and formerly adored, her freedom. The coloniſts emigrated from you, when this part of your character was moſt predominant; and they took this biaſs and direction the moment they parted from your hands. They are therefore not only devoted to liberty, but to liberty according to Engliſh ideas, and on Engliſh principles. Abſtract liberty, like other mere abſtractions, is not to be found. Liberty inheres in ſome ſenſible object; and every nation has formed to itſelf ſome favourite point, which by way of eminence becomes the criterion of their happineſs. It happened, you know, ſir, that the great conteſts for freedom in this country were from the earlieſt times chiefly upon the queſtion of taxing. Moſt of the conteſts in the ancient commonwealths turned primarily on the right of election of magiſtrates; or on the balance among the ſeveral orders of the ſtate. The queſtion of money was not with them ſo immediate. But in England it was otherwiſe. On this point of taxes the ableſt pens, and moſt eloquent tongues have been exerciſed; the greateſt ſpirits have acted and ſuffered. In order to give the fulleſt ſatisfaction concerning the importance of this point, it was not only neceſſary for thoſe who in argument defended the excellence of the Engliſh conſtitution, to inſiſt on this privilege of granting money as a dry point of fact, and to prove, that the right had been acknowledged in ancient parchments, [379] and blind uſages, to reſide in a certain body called an houſe of commons. They went much further; they attempted to prove, and they ſucceeded, that in theory it ought to be ſo, from the particular nature of a houſe of commons, as an immediate repreſentative of the people; whether the old records had delivered this oracle or not. They took infinite pains to inculcate, as a fundamental principle, that, in all monarchies, the people muſt in effect themſelves mediately or immediately poſſeſs the power of granting their own money, or no ſhadow of liberty could ſubſiſt. The colonies draw from you as with their life-blood, theſe ideas and principles. Their love of liberty, as with you, fixed and attached on this ſpecific point of taxing. Liberty might be ſafe, or might be endangered in twenty other particulars, without their being much pleaſed or alarmed. Here they felt its pulſe; and as they found that beat, they thought themſelves ſick or ſound. I do not ſay whether they were right or wrong in applying your general arguments to their own caſe. It is not eaſy indeed to make a monopoly of theorems and corollaries. The fact is, that they did thus apply thoſe general arguments; and your mode of governing them, whether through lenity or indolence, through wiſdom or miſtake, confirmed them in the imagination, that they, as well as you, had an intereſt in theſe common principles.

THEY were further confirmed in this pleaſing error by the form of their provincial legiſlative aſſemblies. Their governments are popular in an high degree; ſome are merely popular; in all, the popular repreſentative is the moſt weighty; and this ſhare of the people in their ordinary government never fails to inſpire them with lofty ſentiments, and with a ſtrong averſion from whatever tends to deprive them of their chief importance.

[380]IF any thing were wanting to this neceſſary operation of the form of government, religion would have given it a complete effect. Religion, always a principle of energy, in this new people, is no way worn out or impaired; and their mode of profeſſing it is alſo one main cauſe of this free ſpirit. The people are proteſtants; and of that kind, which is the moſt adverſe to all implicit ſubmiſſion of mind and opinion. This is a perſuaſion not only favourable to liberty, but built upon it. I do not think, ſir, that the reaſon of this averſeneſs in the diſſenting churches from all that looks like abſolute government is ſo much to be ſought in their religious tenets, as in their hiſtory. Every one knows, that the Roman Catholic religion is at leaſt coeval with moſt of the governments where it prevails; that it has generally gone hand in hand with them; and received great favour and every kind of ſupport from authority. The church of England too was formed from her cradle under the nurſing care of regular government. But the diſſenting intereſts have ſprung up in direct oppoſition to all the ordinary powers of the world; and could juſtify that oppoſition only on a ſtrong claim to natural liberty. Their very exiſtence depended on the powerful and unremitted aſſertion of that claim. All proteſtantiſm, even the moſt cold and paſſive, is a ſort of diſſent. But the religion moſt prevalent in our northern colonies is a refinement on the principle of reſiſtance; it is the diſſidence of diſſent; and the proteſtantiſm of the proteſtant religion. This religion, under a variety of denominations, agreeing in nothing but in the communion of the ſpirit of liberty, is predominant in moſt of the northern provinces; where the church of England, notwithſtanding its legal rights, is in reality no more than a ſort of private ſect, not compoſing moſt probably the tenth of the people. The coloniſts left England [381] when this ſpirit was high; and in the emigrants was the higheſt of all: and even that ſtream of foreigners, which has been conſtantly flowing into theſe colonies, has, for the greateſt part, been compoſed of diſſenters from the eſtabliſhments of their ſeveral countries, and have brought with them a temper and character far from alien to that of the people with whom they mixed.

SIR, I can perceive by their manner, that ſome gentlemen object to the latitude of this deſcription; becauſe in the ſouthern colonies the church of England forms a large body, and has a regular eſtabliſhment. It is certainly true. There is however a circumſtance attending theſe colonies, which in my opinion, fully counterbalances this difference, and makes the ſpirit of liberty ſtill more high and haughty than in thoſe to the northward. It is that in Virginia and the Carolinas, they have a vaſt multitude of ſlaves. Where this is the caſe in any part of the world, thoſe who are free, are by far the moſt proud and jealous of their freedom. Freedom is to them not only an enjoyment, but a kind of rank and privilege. Not ſeeing there, that freedom, as in countries where it is a common bleſſing, and as broad and general as the air, may be united with much abject toil, with great miſery, with all the exterior of ſervitude, liberty looks amongſt them, like ſomething that is more noble and liberal. I do not mean, ſir, to commend the ſuperior morality of this ſentiment, which has at leaſt as much pride as virtue in it; but I cannot alter the nature of man. The fact is ſo; and theſe people of the ſouthern colonies are much more ſtrongly, and with an higher and more ſtubborn ſpirit, attached to liberty than thoſe to the northward. Such were all the ancient commonwealths; ſuch were our Gothic anceſtors; ſuch in our days were the Poles; [382] and ſuch will be all maſters of ſlaves, who are not ſlaves themſelves. In ſuch a people the haughtineſs of domination combines with the ſpirit of freedom, fortifies it, and renders it invincible.

PERMIT me, ſir, to add another circumſtance in our colonies, which contributes no mean part towards the growth and effect of this untractable ſpirit. I mean their education. In no country perhaps in the world is the law ſo general a ſtudy The profeſſion itſelf is numerous and powerful; and in moſt provinces it takes the lead. The greater number of the deputies ſent to the congreſs were lawyers. But all who read, and moſt do read, endeavour to obtain ſome ſmattering in that ſcience. I have been told by an eminent bookſeller, that in no branch of his buſineſs, after tracts of popular devotion, were ſo many books as thoſe on the law exported to the plantations. The coloniſts have now fallen into the way of printing them for their own uſe. I hear that they have ſold nearly as many of Blackſtone's Commentaries in America as in England. General Gage marks out this diſpoſition very particularly in a letter on your table. He ſtates, that all the people in his government are lawyers, or ſmatterers in law; and that in Boſton they have been enabled, by ſucceſsful chicane, wholly to evade many parts of one of your capital penal conſtitutions. The ſmartneſs of debate will ſay, that this knowledge ought to teach them more clearly the rights of legiſlature, their obligations to obedience, and the penalties of rebellion. All this is mighty well. But my c honourable and learned friend on the floor, who condeſcends to mark what I ſay for animadverſion, will diſdain that ground. He has heard as well as I, that when great honours and great emoluments do not win over this knowledge [383] to the ſervice of the ſtate, it is a formidable adverſary to government. If the ſpirit be not tamed and broken by theſe happy methods, it is ſtubborn and litigious. Abeunt ſtudia in mores. This ſtudy renders men acute, inquiſitive, dextrous, prompt in attack, ready in defence, full of reſources. In other countries, the people, more ſimple and of a leſs mercurial caſt, judge of an ill principle in government only by an actual grievance; here they anticipate the evil, and judge of the preſſure of the grievance by the badneſs of the principle. They augur miſgovernment at a diſtance; and ſnuff the approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze.

THE laſt cauſe of this diſobedient ſpirit in the colonies is hardly leſs powerful than the reſt, as it is not merely moral, but laid deep in the natural conſtitution of things. Three thouſand miles of ocean lie between you and them. No contrivance can prevent the effect of this diſtance, in weakening government. Seas roll, and months paſs, between the order and the execution; and the want of a ſpeedy explanation of a ſingle point is enough to defeat an whole ſyſtem. You have, indeed, winged miniſters of vengeance, who carry your bolts in their pounces to the remoteſt verge of the ſea. But there a power ſteps in, that limits the arrogance of raging paſſions and furious elements, and ſays, "So far ſhalt thou go, and no farther." Who are you, that ſhould fret and rage, and bite the chains of nature?—Nothing worſe happens to you, than does to all nations, who have extenſive empire; and it happens in all the forms into which empire can be thrown. In large bodies, the circulation of power muſt be leſs vigorous at the extremities. Nature has ſaid it. The turk cannot govern Aegypt, and Arabia, and Curdiſtan, as he governs [384] Thrace; nor has he the ſame dominion in Crimea and Algiers, which he has at Bruſa and Smyrna. Deſpotiſm itſelf is obliged to truck and huckſter. The ſultan gets ſuch obedience as he can. He governs with a looſe rein, that he may govern at all; and the whole of the force and vigour of his authority in his centre, is derived from a prudent relaxation in all his borders. Spain, in her provinces, is, perhaps, not ſo well obeyed, as you are in yours. She complies too; ſhe ſubmits; ſhe watches times. This is the immutable condition; the eternal law, of extenſive and detached empire.

THEN, ſir, from theſe ſix capital ſources; of deſcent; of form of government; of religion in the northern provinces; of manners in the ſouthern; of education; of the remoteneſs of ſituation from the firſt mover of government; from all theſe cauſes a fierce ſpirit of liberty has grown up. It has grown with the growth of the people in your colonies, and increaſed with the increaſe of their wealth; a ſpirit, that unhappily meeting with an exerciſe of power in England, which, however lawful, is not reconcilable to any ideas of liberty, much leſs with theirs, has kindled this flame, that is ready to conſume us.

I DO not mean to commend either the ſpirit in this exceſs, or the moral cauſes which produce it. Perhaps a more ſmooth and accommodating ſpirit of freedom in them would be more acceptable to us. Perhaps ideas of liberty might be deſired, more reconcilable with an arbitrary and boundleſs authority. Perhaps we might wiſh the coloniſts to be perſuaded, that their liberty is more ſecure when held in truſt for them by us (as their guardians during a perpetual minority) than with any part of it in their own hands. But the queſtion is, not whether their ſpirit deſerves praiſe or blame;—what, in [385] the name of God, ſhall we do with it? You have before you the object; ſuch as it is, with all its glories, with all its imperfections on its head. You ſee the magnitude; the importance; the temper; the habits; the diſorders. By all theſe conſiderations, we are ſtrongly urged to determine ſomething concerning it. We are called upon to fix ſome rule and line for our future conduct, which may give a little ſtability to our politics, and prevent the return of ſuch unhappy deliberations as the preſent. Every ſuch return will bring the matter before us in a ſtill more untractable form. For, what aſtoniſhing and incredible things have we not ſeen already? What monſters have not been generated from this unnatural contention? Whilſt every principle of authority and reſiſtance has been puſhed, upon both ſides, as far as it would go, there is nothing ſo ſolid and certain, either in reaſoning or in practice, that has been not ſhaken. Until very lately, all authority in America ſeemed to be nothing but an emanation from yours. Even the popular part of the colony conſtitution derived all its activity, and its firſt vital movement, from the pleaſure of the crown. We thought, ſir, that the utmoſt which the diſcontented coloniſts could do, was to diſturb authority; we never dreamt they could of themſelves ſupply it; knowing in general what an operoſe buſineſs it is, to eſtabliſh a government abſolutely new. But having, for our purpoſes in this contention, reſolved, that none but an obedient aſſembly ſhould ſit, the humours of the people there, finding all paſſage through the legal channel ſtopped, with great violence broke out another way. Some provinces have tried their experiment, as we have tried ours; and theirs has ſucceeded. They have formed a government ſufficient for its purpoſes, without the buſtle of a revolution, or the troubleſome formality of an election. Evident neceſſity, and tacit conſent, [386] have done the buſineſs in an inſtant. So well they have done it, that lord Dunmore (the account is among the fragments on your table) tells you, that the new inſtitution is infinitely better obeyed than the antient government ever was in its moſt fortunate period. Obedience is what makes government, and not the names by which it is called; not the name of governor, as formerly, or committee, as at preſent. This new government has originated directly from the people; and was not tranſmitted through any of the ordinary artificial media of a poſitive conſtitution. It was not a manufacture ready formed, and tranſmitted to them in that condition from England. The evil ariſing from hence is this; that the coloniſts having once found the poſſibility of enjoying the advantages of order, in the midſt of a ſtruggle for liberty, ſuch ſtruggles will not henceforward ſeem ſo terrible to the ſettled and ſober part of mankind, as they had appeared before the trial.

PURSUING the ſame plan of puniſhing by the denial of the exerciſe of government to ſtill greater lengths, we wholly abrogated the antient government of Maſſachuſet. We were confident, that the firſt feeling, if not the very proſpect of anarchy, would inſtantly enforce a compleat ſubmiſſion. The experiment was tried. A new, ſtrange, unexpected face of things appeared. Anarchy is found tolerable. A vaſt province has now ſubſiſted, and ſubſiſted in a conſiderable degree of health and vigour, for near a twelvemonth, without governor, without public council, without judges, without executive magiſtrates. How long it will continue in this ſtate, or what may ariſe out of this unheard-of ſituation, how can the wiſeſt of us conjecture? Our late experience has taught us, that many of thoſe fundamental principles, formerly believed infallible, [387] are either not of the importance they were imagined to be; or that we have not at all adverted to ſome other far more important, and far more powerful principles, which entirely over-rule thoſe we had conſidered as omnipotent. I am much againſt any further experiments, which tend to put to the proof any more of theſe allowed opinions, which contribute ſo much to the public tranquillity. In effect, we ſuffer as much at home, by this looſening of all ties, and this concuſſion of all eſtabliſhed opinions, as we do abroad. For, in order to prove, that the Americans have no right to their liberties, we are every day endeavouring to ſubvert the maxims, which preſerve the whole ſpirit of our own. To prove that the Americans ought not to be free, we are obliged to depreciate the value of freedom itſelf; and we never ſeem to gain a paltry advantage over them in debate, without attacking ſome of thoſe principles, or deriding ſome of thoſe feelings, for which our anceſtors have ſhed their blood.

BUT, ſir, in wiſhing to put an end to pernicious experiments, I do not mean to preclude the fulleſt enquiry. Far from it. Far from deciding on a ſudden or partial view, I would patiently go round and round the ſubject, and ſurvey it minutely in every poſſible aſpect. Sir, if I were capable of engaging you to an equal attention, I would ſtate, that, as far as I am capable of diſcerning, there are but three ways of proceeding relative to this ſtubborn ſpirit, which prevails in your colonies, and diſturbs your government. Theſe are—To change that ſpirit, as inconvenient, by removing the cauſes. To proſecute it as criminal. Or, to comply with it as neceſſary. I would not be guilty of an imperfect enumeration; I can think of but theſe three. Another has indeed been ſtarted, that of giving up [388] the colonies; but it met ſo ſlight a reception, that I do not think myſelf obliged to dwell a great while upon it. It is nothing but a little ſally of anger; like the frowardneſs of peeviſh children; who, when they cannot get all they would have, are reſolved to take nothing.

THE firſt of theſe plans, to change the ſpirit as inconvenient, by removing the cauſes, I think is the moſt like a ſyſtematic proceeding. It is radical in its principle; but it is attended with great difficulties, ſome of them little ſhort, as I conceive, of impoſſibilities. This will appear by examining into the plans which have been propoſed.

AS the growing population in the colonies is evidently one cauſe of their reſiſtance, it was laſt ſeſſion mentioned in both houſes, by men of weight, and received not without applauſe, that, in order to check this evil, it would be proper for the crown to make no further grants of land. But to this ſcheme, there are two objections. The firſt, that there is already ſo much unſettled land in private hands, as to afford room for an immenſe future population, although the crown not only withheld its grants, but annihilated its ſoil. If this be the caſe, then the only effect of this avarice of deſolation, this hoarding of a royal wilderneſs, would be to raiſe the value of the poſſeſſions in the hands of the great private monopoliſts, without any adequate check to the growing and alarming miſchief of population.

BUT, if you ſtopped your grants, what would be the conſequence? The people would occupy without grants. They have already ſo occupied in many places. You cannot ſtation garriſons in every part of theſe deſerts. If you drive the people from one place, they will carry on their annual [389] tillage, and remove with their flocks and herds to another. Many of the people in the back ſettlements are already little attached to particular ſituations. Already they have topped the Apalachian mountains. From thence they behold before them an immenſe plain, one vaſt, rich, level meadow; a ſquare of five hundred miles. Over this they would wander, without a poſſibility of reſtraint; they would change their manners with the habits of their life; would ſoon forget a government, by which they were diſowned; would become Hordes of Engliſh Tartars; and, pouring down upon your unfortified frontiers a fierce and irreſiſtible cavalry, become maſters of your governors and your counſellors, your collectors and comptrollers, and of all the ſlaves that adhered to them. Such would, and, in no long time, muſt be, the effect of attempting to forbid as a crime, and to ſuppreſs as an evil, the command and bleſſing of Providence, ‘"encreaſe and multiply."’ Such would be the happy reſult of an endeavour to keep as a lair of wild beaſts, that earth, which God by an expreſs charter, has given to the children of men. Far different, and ſurely much wiſer, has been our policy hitherto. Hitherto we have invited our people by every kind of bounty, to fixed eſtabliſhments. We have invited the huſbandman, to look to authority for his title. We have taught him piouſly to believe in the myſterious virtue of wax and parchment. We have thrown each tract of land, as it was peopled, into diſtricts; that the ruling power ſhould never be wholly out of ſight. We have ſettled all we could; and we have carefully attended every ſettlement with government.

ADHERING, ſir, as I do, to this policy, as well as for the reaſons I have juſt given, I think this new [390] project of hedging-in population to be neither prudent nor practicable.

TO impoveriſh the colonies in general, and in particular to arreſt the noble courſe of their marine enterprizes, would be a more eaſy taſk. I freely confeſs it. We have ſhewn a diſpoſition to a ſyſtem of this kind; a diſpoſition even to continue the reſtraint after the offence; looking on ourſelves as rivals to our colonies, and perſuaded that of courſe we muſt gain all that they ſhall loſe. Much miſchief we may certainly do. The power inadequate to all other things is often more than ſufficient for this. I do not look on the direct and immediate power of the colonies to reſiſt our violence, as very formidable. In this, however, I may be miſtaken. But when I conſider, that we have colonies for no purpoſe but to be ſerviceable to us, it ſeems to my poor underſtanding a little prepoſterous, to make them unſerviceable, in order to keep them obedient. It is, in truth, nothing more than the old, and, as I thought, exploded problem of tyranny which propoſes to beggar its ſubjects into ſubmiſſion. But, remember, when you have compleated your ſyſtem of impoveriſhment, that nature ſtill proceeds in her ordinary courſe; that diſcontent will encreaſe with miſery; and that there are critical moments in the fortune of all ſtates, when they, who are too weak to contribute to your proſperity, may be ſtrong enough to complete your ruin. Spoliatis arma ſuperſunt.

THE temper and character which prevail in our colonies, are, I am afraid, unalterable by any human art. We cannot, I fear, falſify the pedigree of this fierce people, and perſuade them that they are not ſprung from a nation, in whoſe veins the blood of freedom circulates. The language in which they [391] would hear you tell them this tale, would detect the impoſition; your ſpeech would betray you. An Engliſhman is the unfitteſt perſon on earth to argue another Engliſhman into ſlavery.

I THINK it is nearly as little in our power to change their republican religion, as their free deſcent; or to ſubſtitute the Roman Catholic, as a penalty; or the church of England, as an improvement. The mode of inquiſition and dragooning, is going out of faſhion in the old world; and I ſhould not confide much to their efficacy in the new. The education of the Americans is alſo on the ſame unalterable bottom with their religion. You cannot perſuade them to burn their books of curious ſcience; to baniſh their lawyers from their courts of law; or to quench the lights of their aſſemblies, by refuſing to chooſe thoſe perſons who are beſt read in their privileges. It would be no leſs impracticable to think of wholly annihilating the popular aſſemblies, in which theſe lawyers ſit. The army, by which we muſt govern in their place, would be far more chargeable to us; not quite ſo effectual; and perhaps, in the end, full as difficult to be kept in obedience.

WITH regard to the high ariſtocratic ſpirit of Virginia and the ſouthern colonies, it has been propoſed, I know, to reduce it, by declaring a general enfranchiſement of their ſlaves. This project has had its advocates and panegyriſts; yet I never could argue myſelf into any opinion of it. Slaves are often much attached to their maſters. A general wild offer of liberty, would not always be accepted. Hiſtory furniſhes few inſtances of it. It is ſometimes as hard to perſuade ſlaves to be free, as it is to compel freemen to be ſlaves; and in this auſpicious ſcheme, we ſhould have both theſe pleaſing taſks on our hands at once. But when we [392] talk of enfranchiſement, do we not perceive that the American maſter may enfranchiſe too; and arm ſervile hands in defence of freedom? A meaſure to which other people have had recourſe more than once, and not without ſucceſs, in a deſperate ſituation of their affairs.

SLAVES as theſe unfortunate black people are, and dull as all men are from ſlavery, muſt they not a little ſuſpect the offer of freedom from that very nation which has ſold them to their preſent maſters? From that nation, one of whoſe cauſes of quarrel with thoſe maſters, is their refuſal to deal any more in that inhuman traffic? An offer of freedom from England, would come rather oddly, ſhipped to them in an African veſſel, which is refuſed an entry into the ports of Virginia or Carolina, with a cargo of three hundred Angola negroes. It would be curious to ſee the Guinea captain attempting at the ſame inſtant to publiſh his proclamation of liberty, and to advertiſe his ſale of ſlaves.

BUT let us ſuppoſe all theſe moral difficulties got over. The ocean remains. You cannot pump this dry; and as long as it continues in its preſent bed, ſo long all the cauſes which weaken authority by diſtance will continue. ‘"Ye gods, annihilate but ſpace and time, and make two lovers happy!"’ —was a pious and paſſionate prayer;—but juſt as reaſonable, as many of the ſerious wiſhes of very grave and ſolemn politicians.

IF then, ſir, it ſeems almoſt deſperate to think of any alterative courſe, for changing the moral cauſes (and not quite eaſy to remove the natural), which produce prejudices irreconcilable to the late exerciſe of our authority; but that the ſpirit infallibly will continue; and, continuing, will produce ſuch [393] effects, as now embarraſs us; the ſecond mode under conſideration is, to proſecute that ſpirit in its overt acts, as criminal.

AT this propoſition, I muſt pauſe a moment. The thing ſeems a great deal too big for my ideas of juriſprudence. It ſhould ſeem, to my way of conceiving ſuch matters, that there is a very wide difference in reaſon and policy, between the mode of proceeding on the irregular conduct of ſcattered individuals, or even of bands of men, who diſturb order within the ſtate, and the civil diſſenſions which may, from time to time, on great queſtions, agitate the ſeveral communities which compoſe a great empire. It looks to me to be narrow and pedantic, to apply the ordinary ideas of criminal juſtice to this great public conteſt. I do not know the method of drawing up an indictment againſt an whole people. I cannot inſult and ridicule the feelings of millions of my fellow-creatures, as ſir Edward Coke inſulted one excellent individual (Sir Walter Rawleigh) at the bar. I am not ripe to paſs ſentence on the graveſt public bodies, entruſted with magiſtracies of great authority and dignity, and charged with the ſafety of their fellow-citizens, upon the very ſame title that I am. I really think, that for wiſe men, this is not judicious; for ſober men, not decent; for minds tinctured with humanity, not mild and merciful.

PERHAPS, ſir, I am miſtaken in my idea of an empire, as diſtinguiſhed from a ſingle ſtate or kingdom. But my idea of it is this; that an empire is the aggregate of many ſtates, under one common head; whether this head be a monarch, or a preſiding republic. It does, in ſuch conſtitutions, frequently happen (and nothing but the diſmal, cold, dead uniformity of ſervitude can prevent its happening) that the ſubordinate parts have [394] many local privileges and immunities. Between theſe privileges, and the ſupreme common authority, the line may be extremely nice. Of courſe diſputes, often too, very bitter diſputes, and much ill blood, will ariſe. But though every privilege is an exemption (in the caſe) from the ordinary exerciſe of the ſupreme authority, it is no denial of it. The claim of a privilege ſeems rather, ex vi termini, to imply a ſuperior power. For to talk of the privileges of a ſtate or of a perſon, who has no ſuperior, is hardly any better than ſpeaking nonſenſe. Now, in ſuch unfortunate quarrels, among the component parts of a great political union of communities, I can ſcarcely conceive any thing more compleatly imprudent, than for the head of the empire to inſiſt, that, if any privilege is pleaded againſt his will, or his acts, that his whole authority is denied; inſtantly to proclaim rebellion, to beat to arms, and to put the offending provinces under the ban. Will not this, ſir, very ſoon teach the provinces to make no diſtinctions on their part? Will it not teach them that the government, againſt which a claim of liberty is tantamont to high-treaſon, is a government to which ſubmiſſion is equivalent to ſlavery? It may not always be quite convenient to impreſs dependent communities with ſuch an idea.

WE are, indeed, in all diſputes with the colonies, by the neceſſity of things, the judge. It is true, ſir. But, I confeſs, that the character of judge in my own cauſe, is a thing that frightens me. Inſtead of filling me with pride, I am exceedingly humbled by it. I cannot proceed with a ſtern, aſſured, judicial confidence, until I find myſelf in ſomething more like a judicial character. I muſt have theſe heſitations as long as I am compelled to recollect, that, in my little reading upon [395] ſuch conteſts as theſe, the ſenſe of mankind has, at leaſt, as often decided againſt the ſuperior as the ſubordinate power. Sir, let me add too, that the opinion of my having ſome abſtract right in my favour, would not put me much at my eaſe in paſſing ſentence; unleſs I could be ſure, that there were no rights which, in their exerciſe under certain circumſtances, were not the moſt odious of all wrongs, and the moſt vexatious of all injuſtice. Sir, theſe conſiderations have great weight with me, when I find things ſo circumſtanced; that I ſee the ſame party, at once a civil litigant againſt me in a point of right; and a culprit before me, while I ſit as a criminal judge, on acts of his, whoſe moral quality is to be decided upon the merits of that very litigation. Men are every now and then put, by the complexity of human affairs, into ſtrange ſituations; but juſtice is the ſame, let the judge be in what ſituation he will.

THERE is, ſir, alſo a circumſtance which convinces me, that this mode of criminal proceeding is not (at leaſt in the preſent ſtage of our conteſt) altogether expedient; which is nothing leſs than the conduct of thoſe very perſons who have ſeemed to adopt that mode, by lately declaring a rebellion in Maſſachuſet's Bay, as they had formerly addreſſed to have traitors brought hither under an act of Henry the eighth, for trial. For though rebellion is declared, it is not proceeded againſt as ſuch; nor have any ſteps been taken towards the apprehenſion or conviction of any individual offender, either on our late or our former addreſs; but modes of public coercion have been adopted, and ſuch as have much more reſemblance to a ſort of qualified hoſtility towards an independant power than the puniſhment of rebellious ſubjects. All this ſeems rather [396] inconſiſtent; but it ſhews how difficult it is to apply theſe juridical ideas to our preſent caſe.

IN this ſituation, let us ſeriouſly and coolly ponder. What is it we have got by all our menaces, which have been many and ferocious? What advantage have we derived from the penal laws we have paſſed, and which, for the time, have been ſevere and numerous? What advances have we made towards our object, by the ſending of a force, which, by land and ſea, is no contemptible ſtrength? Has the diſorder abated? Nothing leſs.—When I ſee things in this ſituation, after ſuch confident hopes, bold promiſes, and active exertions, I cannot, for my life, avoid a ſuſpicion, that the plan itſelf is not correctly right.

IF then the removal of the cauſes of this ſpirit of American liberty be, for the greater part, or rather entirely, impracticable; if the ideas of criminal proceſs be inapplicable, or, if applicable, are in the higheſt degree inexpedient, what way yet remains? No way is open, but the third and laſt—to comply with the American ſpirit as neceſſary; or, if you pleaſe, to ſubmit to it, as a neceſſary evil.

IF we adopt this mode; if we mean to conciliate and concede; let us ſee of what nature the conceſſion ought to be? To aſcertain the nature of our conceſſion, we muſt look at their complaint. The colonies complain, that they have not the characteriſtic mark and ſeal of Britiſh freedom. They complain, that they are taxed in a parliament, in which they are not repreſented. If you mean to ſatisfy them at all, you muſt ſatisfy them with regard to this complaint. If you mean to pleaſe any people, you muſt give them the boon which they aſk; not what you may think better [397] for them, but of a kind totally different. Such an act may be a wiſe regulation, but it is no conceſſion: whereas our preſent theme is the mode of giving ſatisfaction.

SIR, I think you muſt perceive, that I am reſolved this day to have nothing at all to do with the queſtion of the right of taxation. Some gentlemen ſtartle—but it is true: I put it totally out of the queſtion. It is leſs than nothing in my conſideration. I do not indeed wonder, nor will you, ſir, that gentlemen of profound learning are fond of diſplaying it on this profound ſubject. But my conſideration is narrow, confined, and wholly limited to the policy of the queſtion. I do not examine, whether the giving away a man's money be a power excepted and reſerved out of the general truſt of government; and how far all mankind, in all forms of polity, are intitled to an exerciſe of that right by the charter of nature. Or whether, on the contrary, a right of taxation is neceſſarily involved in the general principle of legiſlation, and inſeparable from the ordinary ſupreme power? Theſe are deep queſtions, where great names militate againſt each other; where reaſon is perplexed; and an appeal to authorities only thickens the confuſion. For high and reverend authorities lift up their heads on both ſides; and there is no ſure footing in the middle. This point is the great Serbonian bog, betwixt Damiata and mount Caſius old, where armies whole have ſunk. I do not intend to be overwhelmed in that bog, though in ſuch reſpectable company. The queſtion with me is, not whether you have a right to render your people miſerable; but whether it is not your intereſt to make them happy? It is not, what a lawyer tells me, I may do; but what humanity, reaſon, and juſtice, tell me, I ought to do. Is a politic act [398] the worſe for being a generous one? Is no conceſſion proper, but that which is made from your want of right to keep what you grant? Or does it leſſen the grace or dignity of relaxing in the exerciſe of an odious claim, becauſe you have your evidence-room full of titles, and your magazines ſtuffed with arms to enforce them? What ſignify all thoſe titles, and all thoſe arms? Of what avail are they, when the reaſon of the thing tells me, that the aſſertion of my title is the loſs of my ſuit; and that I could do nothing but wound myſelf by the uſe of my own weapons?

SUCH is ſtedfaſtly my opinion of the abſolute neceſſity of keeping up the concord of this empire by a unity of ſpirit, though in a diverſity of operations, that, if I were ſure the coloniſts had, at their leaving this country, ſealed a regular compact of ſervitude; that they had ſolemnly abjured all the rights of citizens; that they had made a vow to renounce all ideas of liberty for them and their poſterity, to all generations; yet I ſhould hold myſelf obliged to conform to the temper I found univerſally prevalent in my own day, and to govern two million of me [...], impatient of ſervitude, on the principles of freedom. I am not determining a point of law; I am reſtoring tranquillity; and the general character and ſituation of a people muſt determine what ſort of government is fitted for them. That point nothing elſe can or ought to determine.

MY idea therefore, without conſidering whether we yield as matter of right, or grant as matter of favour, is to admit the people of our colonies into an intereſt in the conſtitution; and, by recording that admiſſion in the journals of parliament, to give them as ſtrong an aſſurance as the nature of the thing [399] will admit, that we mean for ever to adhere to that ſolemn declaration of ſyſtematic indulgence.

SOME years ago, the repeal of a revenue act, upon its underſtood principle, might have ſerved to ſhew, that we intended an unconditional abatement of the exerciſe of a taxing power. Such a meaſure was then ſufficient to remove all ſuſpicion; and to give perfect content. But unfortunate events, ſince that time, may make ſomething further neceſſary; and not more neceſſary for the ſatisfaction of the colonies, than for the dignity and conſiſtency of our own future proceedings.

I HAVE taken a very incorrect meaſure of the diſpoſition of the houſe, if this propoſal in itſelf would be received with diſlike. I think, ſir, we have few American financiers. But our misfortune is, we are too acute; we are too exquiſite in our conjectures of the future, for men oppreſſed with ſuch great and preſent evils. The more moderate among the oppoſers of parliamentary conceſſion freely confeſs, that they hope no good from taxation; but they apprehend the coloniſts have further views; and if this point were conceded, they would inſtantly attack the trade-laws. Theſe gentlemen are convinced, that this was the intention from the beginning; and the quarrel of the Americans with taxation was no more than a cloke and cover to this deſign. Such has been the language even of a f gentleman of real moderation, and of a natural temper well adjuſted to fair and equal government. I am, however, ſir, not a little ſurprized at this kind of diſcourſe, whenever I hear it; and I am the more ſurprized, on account of the arguments which I conſtantly find in company [400] with it, and which are often urged from the ſame mouths, and on the ſame day.

FOR inſtance, when we allege, that it is againſt reaſon to tax a people under ſo many reſtraints in trade as the Americans, the g noble lord in the blue ribband ſhall tell you, that the reſtraints on trade are futile and uſeleſs; of no advantage to us, and of no burthen to thoſe on whom they are impoſed; that the trade to America is not ſecured by the acts of navigation, but by the natural and irreſiſtible advantage of a commercial preference.

SUCH is the merit of the trade laws in this poſture of the debate. But when ſtrong internal circumſtances are urged againſt the taxes; when the ſcheme is diſſected; when experience and the nature of things are brought to prove, and do prove, the utter impoſſibility of obtaining an effective revenue from the colonies; when theſe things are preſſed, or rather preſs themſelves, ſo as to drive the advocates of colony taxes to a clear admiſſion of the futility of the ſcheme; then, ſir, the ſleeping trade laws revive from their trance; and this uſeleſs taxation is to be kept ſacred, not for its own ſake, but as a counterguard and ſecurity of the laws of trade.

THEN, ſir, you keep up revenue laws which are miſchievous, in order to preſerve trade laws that are uſeleſs. Such is the wiſdom of our plan in both its members. They are ſeparately given up as of no value; and yet one is always to be defended for the ſake of the other. But I cannot agree with the noble lord, nor with the pamphlet from whence he ſeems to have borrowed theſe ideas, concerning the inutility of the trade laws. For without idolizing them, I am ſure they are ſtill, in [401] many ways, of great uſe to us; and in former times, they have been of the greateſt. They do confine, and they do greatly narrow, the market for the Americans. But my perfect conviction of this, does not help me in the leaſt to diſcern how the revenue laws form any ſecurity whatſoever to the commercial regulations; or that theſe commercial regulations are the true ground of the quarrel; or, that the giving way in any one inſtance of authority, is to loſe all that may remain unconceded.

ONE fact is clear and indiſputable. The public and avowed origin of this quarrel, was on taxation. This quarrel has indeed brought on new diſputes on new queſtions; but certainly the leaſt bitter, and the feweſt of all, on the trade laws. To judge which of the two be the real radical cauſe of quarrel, we have to ſee whether the commercial diſpute did, in order of time, precede the diſpute on taxation? There is not a ſhadow of evidence for it. Next, to enable us to judge whether at this moment a diſlike to the trade laws be the real cauſe of quarrel, it is abſolutely neceſſary to put the taxes out of the queſtion by a repeal. See how the Americans act in this poſition, and then you will be able to diſcern correctly what is the true object of the controverſy, or whether any controverſy at all will remain? Unleſs you conſent to remove this cauſe of difference, it is impoſſible, with decency, to aſſert that the diſpute is not upon what it is avowed to be. And I would, ſir, recommend to your ſerious conſideration, whether it be prudent to form a rule for puniſhing people, not on their own acts, but on your conjectures? Surely it is prepoſterous at the very beſt. It is not juſtifying your anger, by their miſconduct; but it is converting your ill-will into their delinquency.

[402]BUT the colonies will go further.—Alas! alas! when will this ſpeculating againſt fact and reaſon end? What will quiet theſe panic fears which we entertain of the hoſtile effect of a conciliatory conduct? Is it true, that no caſe can exiſt, in which it is proper for the ſovereign to accede to the deſires of his diſcontented ſubjects? Is there any thing peculiar in this caſe, to make a rule for itſelf? Is all authority of courſe loſt, when it is not puſhed to the extreme? Is it a certain maxim, that, the fewer cauſes of diſſatisfaction are left by government, the more the ſubject will be inclined to reſiſt and rebel?

ALL theſe objections being in fact no more than ſuſpicions, conjectures, divinations; formed in defiance of fact and experience; they did not, ſir, diſcourage me from entertaining the idea of a conciliatory conceſſion, founded on the principles which I have juſt ſtated.

IN forming a plan for this purpoſe, I endeavoured to put myſelf in that frame of mind, which was the moſt natural, and the moſt reaſonable; and which was certainly the moſt probable means of ſecuring me from all error. I ſet out with a perfect diſtruſt of my own abilities; a total renunciation of every ſpeculation of my own; and with a profound reverence for the wiſdom of our anceſtors, who have left us the inheritance of ſo happy a conſtitution, and ſo flouriſhing an empire, and what is a thouſand times more valuable, the treaſury of the maxims and principles which formed the one, and ebtained the other.

DURING the reigns of the kings of Spain of the Auſtrian family, whenever they were at a loſs in the Spaniſh councils, it was common for their ſtateſmen to ſay, that they ought to conſult the genius [403] of Philip the ſecond. The genius of Philip the ſecond might miſlead them; and the iſſue of their affairs ſhewed, that they had not choſen the moſt perfect ſtandard. But, ſir, I am ſure that I ſhall not be miſled, when, in a caſe of conſtitutional difficulty, I conſult the genius of the Engliſh conſtitution. Conſulting at that oracle (it was with all due humility and piety) I found four capital examples in a ſimilar caſe before me: thoſe of Ireland, Wales, Cheſter, and Durham.

IRELAND, before the Engliſh conqueſt, though never governed by a deſpotic power, had no parliament. How far the Engliſh parliament itſelf was at that time modelled according to the preſent form, is diſputed among antiquarians. But we have all the reaſon in the world to be aſſured, that a form of parliament, ſuch as England then enjoyed, ſhe inſtantly communicated to Ireland; and we are equally ſure that almoſt every ſucceſſive improvement in conſtitutional liberty, as faſt as it was made here, was tranſmitted thither. The feudal baronage, and the feudal knighthood, the roots of our primitive conſtitution, were early tranſplanted into that ſoil; and grew and flouriſhed there. Magna charta, if it did not give us originally the houſe of commons, gave us at leaſt an houſe of commons of weight and conſequence. But your anceſtors did not churliſhly ſit down alone to the feaſt of magna charta. Ireland was made immediately a partaker. This benefit of Engliſh laws and liberties, I confeſs, was not at firſt extended to all Ireland. Mark the conſequence. Engliſh authority and Engliſh liberties had exactly the ſame boundaries. Your ſtandard could never be advanced an inch before your privileges. Sir John Davis ſhews beyond a doubt, that the refuſal of a general communication of theſe rights, was the true [404] cauſe why Ireland was five hundred years in ſubduing; and after the vain projects of a military government, attempted in the reign of queen Elizabeth, it was ſoon diſcovered, that nothing could make that country Engliſh, in civility and allegiance, but your laws and your forms of legiſlature. It was not Engliſh arms, but the Engliſh conſtitution, that conquered Ireland. From that time, Ireland has ever had a general parliament, as ſhe had before a partial parliament. You changed the people; you altered the religion; but you never touched the form or the vital ſubſtance of free government in that kingdom. You depoſed kings; you reſtored them; you altered the ſucceſſion to theirs, as well as to your own crown; but you never altered their conſtitution; the principle of which was reſpected by uſurpation; reſtored with the reſtoration of monarchy, and eſtabliſhed, I truſt, for ever, by the glorious revolution. This has made Ireland the great and flouriſhing kingdom that it is; and from a diſgrace and a burthen intolerable to this nation, has rendered her a principal part of our ſtrength and ornament. This country cannot be ſaid to have ever formally taxed her. The irregular things done in the confuſion of mighty troubles, and on the hinge of great revolutions, even if all were done that is ſaid to have been done, form no example. If they have any effect in argument, they make an exception to prove the rule. None of your own liberties could ſtand a moment, if the caſual deviations from them, at ſuch times, were ſuffered to be uſed as proofs of their nullity. By the lucrative amount of ſuch caſual breaches in the conſtitution, judge what the ſtated and fixed rule of ſupply has been in that kingdom. Your Iriſh penſioners would ſtarve, if they had no other fund to live on than taxes granted by Engliſh authority. Turn your eyes to thoſe popular grants from whence [405] all your great ſupplies are come; and learn to reſpect that only ſource of public wealth in the Britiſh empire.

MY next example is Wales. This country was ſaid to be reduced by Henry the third. It was ſaid more truly to be ſo by Edward the firſt. But though then conquered, it was not looked upon as any part of the realm of England. Its old conſtitution, whatever that might have been, was deſtroyed; and no good one was ſubſtituted in its place. The care of that tract was put into the hands of lords marchers—a form of government of a very ſingular kind; a ſtrange heterogeneous monſter, ſomething between hoſtility and government; perhaps it has a ſort of reſemblance, according to the modes of thoſe times, to that of commander in chief at preſent, to whom all civil power is granted as ſecondary. The manners of the Welſh nation followed the genius of the government: The people were ferocious, reſtive, ſavage, and uncultivated; ſometimes compoſed, never pacified. Wales within itſelf, was in perpetual diſorder; and it kept the frontier of England in perpetual alarm. Benefits from it to the ſtate, there were none. Wales was only known to England, by incurſion and invaſion.

SIR, during that ſtate of things, parliament was not idle. They attempted to ſubdue the fierce ſpirit of the Welſh by all ſorts of rigorous laws. They prohibited by ſtatute the ſending all ſorts of arms into Wales, as you prohibit by proclamation (with ſomething more of doubt on the legality) the ſending arms to America. They diſarmed the Welſh by ſtatute, as you attempted (but ſtill with more queſtion on the legality) to diſarm New England by an inſtruction. They made an act to drag offenders from Wales into England for trial, as you [406] have done (but with more hardſhip) with regard to America. By another act, where one of the parties was an Engliſhman, they ordained, that his trial ſhould be always by Engliſh. They made acts to reſtrain trade, as you do; and they prevented the Welſh from the uſe of fairs and markets, as you do the Americans from fiſheries and foreign ports. In ſhort, when the ſtatute-book was not quite ſo much ſwelled as it is now, you find no leſs than fifteen acts of penal regulation on the ſubject of Wales.

HERE we rub our hands—A fine body of precedents for the authority of parliament and the uſe of it!—I admit it fully; and pray add likewiſe to theſe precedents, that all the while, Wales rid this kingdom like an incubus; that it was an unprofitable and oppreſſive burthen; and that an Engliſhman travelling in that country, could not go ſix yards from the high road without being murdered.

THE march of the human mind is ſlow. Sir, it was not, until after two hundred years, diſcovered, that by an eternal law, Providence had decreed vexation to violence; and poverty to rapine. Your anceſtors did however at length open their eyes to the ill huſbandry of injuſtice. They found that the tyranny of a free people could of all tyrannies the leaſt be endured; and that laws made againſt an whole nation were not the moſt effectual methods for ſecuring its obedience. Accordingly, in the twenty-ſeventh year of Henry VIII. the courſe was entirely altered. With a preamble ſtating the entire and perfect rights of the crown of England, it gave to the Welſh all the rights and privileges of Engliſh ſubjects. A political order was eſtabliſhed; the military power gave way to the civil; the marches were turned into counties. But that a nation ſhould have a right to Engliſh liberties, [407] and yet no ſhare at all in the fundamental ſecurity of theſe liberties, the grant of their own property, ſeemed a thing ſo incongruous; that eight years after, that is, in the thirty-fifth of that reign, a complete and not ill proportioned repreſentation by counties and boroughs was beſtowed upon Wales, by act of parliament. From that moment, as by a charm, the tumults ſubſided; obedience was reſtored; peace, order, and civilization, followed in the train of liberty—When the day-ſtar of the Engliſh conſtitution had ariſen in their hearts, all was harmony within and without—

Simul alba nautis
Stella refulſit,
Defluit ſaxis agitatus humor:
Concidunt venti, fugiuntque nubes:
Et minax (quod ſic voluere) ponto
Unda recumbit.

THE very ſame year the county palatine of Cheſter received the ſame relief from its oppreſſions, and the ſame remedy to its diſorders. Before this time Cheſter was little leſs diſtempered than Wales. The inhabitants, without rights themſelves, were the fitteſt to deſtroy the rights of others; and from thence Richard II. drew the ſtanding army of archers, with which for a time he oppreſſed England. The people of Cheſter applied to parliament in a petition penned as I ſhall read to you:

TO the king our ſovereign lord, in moſt humble wiſe ſhewn unto your excellent majeſty, the inhabitants of your grace's county palatine of Cheſter, that where the ſaid county palatine of Cheſter is and hath been always hitherto exempt, excluded and ſeparated out and from your high court of parliament, to have any knights and burgeſſes within the ſaid court; by reaſon whereof the [408] ſaid inhabitants have hitherto ſuſtained manifold diſheriſons, loſſes and damages, as well in their lands, goods, and bodies, as in the good, civil, and politic governance and maintenance of the commonwealth of their ſaid country: (2.) And for as much as the ſaid inhabitants have always hitherto been bound by the acts and ſtatutes made and ordained by your ſaid highneſs, and your moſt noble progenitors, by authority of the ſaid court, as far forth as other counties, cities, and boroughs have been, that have had their knights and burgeſſes within your ſaid court of parliament, and yet have had neither knight ne burgeſs there for the ſaid county palatine; the ſaid inhabitants, for lack thereof, have been oftentimes touched and grieved with acts and ſtatutes made within the ſaid court, as well derogatory unto the moſt antient juriſdictions, liberties, and privileges of your ſaid county palatine, as prejudicial unto the common wealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace of your grace's moſt bounden ſubjects inhabiting within the ſame.

WHAT did parliament with this audacious addreſs?—reject it as a libel? Treat it as an affront to government? Spurn it as a derogation from the rights of legiſlature? Did they toſs it over the table? Did they burn it by the hands of the common hangman?—They took the petition of grievance, all rugged as it was, without ſoftening or temperament, unpurged of the original bitterneſs and indignation of complaint; they made it the very preamble to their act of redreſs; and conſecrated its principle to all ages in the ſanctuary of legiſlation.

HERE is my third example. It was attended with the ſucceſs of the two former. Cheſter, civilized as well as Wales, has demonſtrated that freedom and not ſervitude is the cure of anarchy; as religion, and not atheiſm, is the true remedy for ſuperſtition. Sir, this pattern of Cheſter was followed in the reign of Charles II. with regard to the [409] county palatine of Durham, which is my fourth example. This county had long lain out of the pale of free legiſlation. So ſcrupulouſly was the example of Cheſter followed, that the ſtyle of the preamble is nearly the ſame with that of the Cheſter act; and without affecting the abſtract extent of the authority of parliament, it recognizes the equity of not ſuffering any conſiderable diſtrict in which the Britiſh ſubjects may act as a body, to be taxed without their own voice in the grant.

NOW if the doctrines of policy contained in theſe preambles, and the force of theſe examples in the acts of parliament, avail any thing, what can be ſaid againſt applying them with regard to America? Are not the people of America as much Engliſhmen as the Welſh? The preamble of the act of Henry VIII. ſays, the Welſh ſpeak a language no way reſembling that of his majeſty's Engliſh ſubjects. Are the Americans not as numerous? If we may truſt the learned and accurate judge Barrington's account of North Wales, and take that as a ſtandard to meaſure the reſt, there is no compariſon. The people cannot amount to above 200,000; not a tenth part of the number in the colonies. Is America in rebellion? Wales was hardly ever free from it. Have you attempted to govern America by penal ſtatutes? You made fifteen for Wales. But your legiſlative authority is perfect with regard to America; was it leſs perfect in Wales, Cheſter, and Durham? But America is virtually repreſented. What! does the electric force of virtual repreſentation more eaſily paſs over the Atlantic, than pervade Wales, which lies in your neighbourhood; or than Cheſter and Durham, ſurrounded by abundance of repreſentation that is actual and palpable? But, ſir, your anceſtors thought this ſort of virtual repreſentation, however ample, to be totally inſufficient [410] for the freedom of the inhabitants of territories that are ſo near, and comparatively ſo inconſiderable. How then can I think it ſufficient for thoſe which are infinitely greater, and infinitely more remote?

YOU will now, ſir, perhaps imagine, that I am on the point of propoſing to you a ſcheme for a repreſentation of the colonies in parliament. Perhaps I might be inclined to entertain ſome ſuch thought; but a great flood ſtops me in my courſe. Oppoſuit natura—I cannot remove the eternal barriers of the creation. The thing in that mode, I do not know to be poſſible. As I meddle with no theory, I do not abſolutely aſſert the impracticability of ſuch a repreſentation. But I do not ſee my way to it; and thoſe who have been more confident, have not been more ſucceſsful. However, the arm of public benevolence is not ſhortened; and there are often ſeveral means to the ſame end. What nature has disjoined in one way, wiſdom may unite in another. When we cannot give the benefit as we would wiſh, let us not refuſe it altogether. If we cannot give the principal, let us find a ſubſtitute. But how? Where? What ſubſtitute?

FORTUNATELY I am not obliged for the ways and means of this ſubſtitute to tax my own unproductive invention. I am not even obliged to go to the rich treaſury of the fertile framers of imaginary commonwealths; not to the republic of Plato, not to the Utopia of More; not to the Oceana of Harrington. It is before me—It is at my feet, and the rude ſwain treads daily on it with his clouted ſhoon. I only wiſh you to recognize, for the theory, the ancient conſtitutional policy of this kingdom with regard to repreſentation, as that policy has been declared in acts of parliament; and, as to the practice, to return to that mode which an uniform experience [411] has marked out to you, as beſt; and in which you walked with ſecurity, advantage, and honour, until the year 1763.

MY reſolutions therefore mean to eſtabliſh the equity and juſtice of a taxation of America, by grant, and not by impoſition. To mark the legal competency of the colony aſſemblies for the ſupport of their government in peace, and for public aids in time of war. To acknowledge that this legal competency has had a dutiful and beneficial exerciſe; and that experience has ſhewn the benefit of their grants, and the futility of parliamentary taxation as a method of ſupply.

THESE ſolid truths compoſe ſix fundamental propoſitions. There are three more reſolutions corollary to theſe. If you admit the firſt ſet, you can hardly reject the others. But if you admit the firſt, I ſhall be far from ſolicitous whether you accept or refuſe the laſt. I think theſe ſix maſſive pillars will be of ſtrength ſufficient to ſupport the temple of Britiſh concord. I have no more doubt than I entertain of my exiſtence, that, if you admitted theſe, you would command an immediate peace; and with but tolerable future management, a laſting obedience in America. I am not arrogant in this confident aſſurance. The propoſitions are all mere matters of fact; and if they are ſuch facts as draw irreſiſtible concluſions even in the ſtating, this is the power of truth, and not any management of mine.

SIR, I ſhall open the whole plan to you together, with ſuch obſervations on the motions as may tend to illuſtrate them where they may want explanation. The firſt is a reſolution— ‘"That the colonies and plantations of Great Britain in North America, conſiſting of fourteen ſeparate governments, and containing two millions and upwards of free inhabitants, [412] have not had the liberty and privilege of electing and ſending any knights and burgeſſes, or others to repreſent them in the high court of parliament."’ —This is a plain matter of fact, neceſſary to be laid down, and (excepting the deſcription) it is laid down in the language of the conſtitution; it is taken nearly verbatim from acts of parliament.

THE ſecond is like unto the firſt— ‘"That the ſaid colonies and plantations have been liable to, and bounden by, ſeveral ſubſidies, payments, rates, and taxes, given and granted by parliament, though the ſaid colonies and plantations have not their knights and burgeſſes, in the ſaid high court of parliament, of their own election, to repreſent the condition of their country; by lack whereof they have been oftentimes touched and grieved by ſubſidies given, granted, and aſſented to, in the ſaid court, in a manner prejudicial to the common wealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace of the ſubjects inhabiting within the ſame."’

IS this deſcription too hot, or too cold, too ſtrong, or too weak? Does it arrogate too much to the ſupreme legiſlature? Does it lean too much to the claims of the people? If it runs into any of theſe errors, the fault is not mine. It is the language of your own ancient acts of parliament. Non meus hic ſermo, ſed quae praecepit Ofellus, ruſticus, abnormis ſapiens. It is the genuine produce of the ancient ruſtic, manly, home-bred ſenſe of this country—I did not dare to rub off a particle of the venerable ruſt that rather adorns and preſerves, than deſtroys the metal. It would be a profanation to touch with a tool the ſtones which conſtruct the ſacred altar of peace. I would not violate with modern poliſh the ingenuous and noble roughneſs of theſe truly conſtitutional materials. Above all things, I was reſolved not to be guilty of tampering, the odious vice of reſtleſs and unſtable minds. I put my [413] foot in the tracks of our forefathers; where I can neither wander nor ſtumble. Determining to fix articles of peace, I was reſolved not to be wiſe beyond what was written; I was reſolved to uſe nothing elſe than the form of ſound words; to let others abound in their own ſenſe; and carefully to abſtain from all expreſſions of my own. What the law has ſaid, I ſay. In all things elſe I am ſilent. I have no organ but for her words. This, if it be not ingenious, I am ſure is ſafe.

THERE are indeed words expreſſive of grievance in this ſecond reſolution, which thoſe who are reſolved always to be in the right, will deny to contain matter of fact, as applied to the preſent caſe; although parliament thought them true, with regard to the counties of Cheſter and Durham. They will deny that the Americans were ever ‘"touched and grieved"’ with the taxes. If they conſider nothing in taxes but their weight as pecuniary impoſitions, there might be ſome pretence for this denial. But men may be ſorely touched and deeply grieved in their privileges, as well as in their purſes. Men may loſe little in property by the act which takes away all their freedom. When a man is robbed of a trifle on the highway, it is not the two-pence loſt that conſtitutes the capital outrage. This is not confined to privileges. Even ancient indulgencies withdrawn, without offence on the part of thoſe who enjoyed ſuch favours, operate as grievances. But were the Americans then not touched and grieved by the taxes, in ſome meaſure, merely as taxes? If ſo, why were they almoſt all, either wholly repealed or exceedingly reduced? Were they not touched and grieved, even by the regulating duties of the ſixth of George II? Elſe why were the duties firſt reduced to one third in 1764, and afterwards to a third of that third in the year 1766? Were they [414] not touched and grieved by the ſtamp-act? I ſhall ſay they were, until that tax is revived. Were they not touched and grieved by the duties of 1767, which were likewiſe repealed, and which, lord Hillſborough tells you (for the miniſtry) were laid contrary to the true principle of commerce? Is not the aſſurance given by that noble perſon to the colonies of a reſolution to lay no more taxes on them, an admiſſion that taxes would touch and grieve them? Is not the reſolution of the noble lord in the blue ribband, now ſtanding on your journals, the ſtrongeſt of all proofs that parliamentary ſubſidies really touched and grieved them? Elſe, why all theſe changes, modifications, repeals, aſſurances, and reſolutions?

THE next propoſition is— ‘"That, from the diſtance of the ſaid colonies, and from other circumſtances, no method hath hitherto been deviſed for procuring a repreſentation in parliament for the ſaid colonies."’ This is an aſſertion of a fact. I go no further on the paper; though in my private judgment, an uſeful repreſentation is impoſſible; I am ſure it is not deſired by them; nor ought it perhaps by us; but I abſtain from opinions.

THE fourth reſolution is— ‘"That each of the ſaid colonies hath within itſelf a body, choſen in part, or in the whole, by the freemen, freeholders, or other free inhabitants thereof, commonly called the general aſſembly, or general court, with powers legally to raiſe, levy, and aſſeſs, according to the ſeveral uſage of ſuch colonies, duties and taxes towards defraying all ſorts of public ſervices."’

THIS competence in the colony aſſemblies is certain. It is proved by the whole tenour of their acts of ſupply in all the aſſemblies, in which the conſtant ſtyle of granting is, ‘"an aid to his majeſty;"’ and [415] acts granting to the crown have regularly for near a century paſſed the public offices without diſpute. Thoſe who have been pleaſed paradoxically to deny this right, holding that none but the Britiſh parliament can grant to the crown, are wiſhed to look to what is done, not only in the colonies, but in Ireland, in one uniform unbroken tenour every ſeſſion. Sir, I am ſurprized, that this doctrine ſhould come from ſome of the law ſervants of the crown. I ſay, that if the crown could be reſponſible, his majeſty—but certainly the miniſters, and even theſe law officers themſelves, through whoſe hands the acts paſs, biennially in Ireland, or annually in the colonies, are in an habitual courſe of committing impeachable offences. What habitual offenders have been all preſidents of the council, all ſecretaries of ſtate, all firſt lords of trade, all attornies and all ſolicitors general! However, they are ſafe; as no one impeaches them; and there is no ground of charge againſt them, except in their own unfounded theories.

THE fifth reſolution is alſo a reſolution of fact— ‘"That the ſaid general aſſemblies, general courts, or other bodies legally qualified as aforeſaid, have at ſundry times freely granted ſeveral large ſubſidies and public aids for his majeſty's ſervice, according to their abilities, when required thereto by letter from one of his majeſty's principal ſecretaries of ſtate; and that their right to grant the ſame, and their chearfulneſs and ſufficiency in the ſaid grants, have been at ſundry times acknowledged by parliament."’ To ſay nothing of their great expences in the Indian wars; and not to take their exertion in foreign ones, ſo high as the ſupplies in the year 1695; not to go back to their public contributions in the year 1710; I ſhall begin to travel only where the journals give me light; reſolving to deal in nothing but fact, authenticated by [416] parliamentary record; and to build myſelf wholly on that ſolid baſis.

ON the 4th of April 1748,h a committee of this houſe came to the following reſolution:

"Reſolved,

"That it is the opinion of this committee, that it is juſt and reaſonable that the ſeveral provinces and colonies of Maſſachuſet's Bay, New Hampſhire, Connecticut, and Rhode Iſland, be reimburſed the expences they have been at in taking and ſecuring to the crown of Great Britain, the iſland of Cape Breton, and its dependencies."

THESE expences were immenſe for ſuch colonies. They were above 200.000l. ſterling; money firſt raiſed and advanced on their public credit.

ON the 28th of January 1756,i a meſſage from the king came to us, to this effect— ‘"His majeſty, being ſenſible of the zeal and vigour with which his faithful ſubjects of certain colonies in North America have exerted themſelves in defence of his majeſty's juſt rights and poſſeſſions, recommends it to this houſe to take the ſame into their conſideration, and to enable his majeſty to give them ſuch aſſiſtance as may be a proper reward and encouragement."’

ON the 3d of February 1756,k the houſe came to a ſuitable reſolution, expreſſed in words nearly the ſame as thoſe of the meſſage: but with the further addition, that the money then voted was as an encouragement to the colonies to exert themſelves with vigour. It will not be neceſſary to go through all the teſtimonies which your own records have given to the truth of my reſolutions. I will only refer you to the places in the journals:

SIR, here is the repeated acknowledgment of parliament, that the colonies not only gave, but gave to ſatiety. This nation has formally acknowledged two things; firſt, that the colonies had gone beyond their abilities, parliament having thought it neceſſary to reimburſe them; ſecondly, that they had acted legally and laudably in their grants of money, and their maintenance of troops, ſince the compenſation is expreſsly given as reward and encouragement. Reward is not beſtowed for acts that are unlawful; and encouragement is not held out to things that deſerve reprehenſion. My reſolution therefore does nothing more than collect into one propoſition, what is ſcattered through your journals. I give you nothing but your own; and you cannot refuſe in the groſs, what you have ſo often acknowleged in detail. The admiſſion of this, which will be ſo honourable to them and to you, will, indeed, be mortal to all the miſerable ſtories, by which the paſſions of the miſguided people have been engaged in an unhappy ſyſtem. The people heard, indeed, from the beginning of theſe diſputes, one thing continually dinned in their ears, that reaſon and juſtice demanded, that the Americans, who paid no taxes; ſhould be compelled to contribute. How did that fact of their paying nothing, ſtand, when the taxing ſyſtem began? When Mr. Grenville began to form his ſyſtem of American revenue, he ſtated in this houſe, that the colonies were then in debt two millions [418] ſix hundred thouſand pounds ſterling money; and was of opinion they would diſcharge that debt in four years. On this ſtate, thoſe untaxed people were actually ſubject to the payment of taxes to the amount of ſix hundred and fifty thouſand a year. In fact, however, Mr. Grenville was miſtaken. The funds given for ſinking the debt did not prove quite ſo ample as both the colonies and he expected. The calculation was too ſanguine: the reduction was not compleated till ſome years after, and at different times in different colonies. However, the taxes after the war, continued too great to bear any addition, with prudence or propriety; and when the burthens impoſed in conſequence of former requiſitions were diſcharged, our tone became too high to reſort again to requiſition. No colony, ſince that time, ever has had any requiſition whatſoever made to it.

WE ſee the ſenſe of the crown, and the ſenſe of parliament, on the productive nature of a revenue by grant. Now, ſearch the ſame journals for the produce of the revenue by impoſition.—Where is it?—let us know the volume and the page?—what is the groſs, what is the nett produce?—to what ſervice is it applied?—how have you appropriated its ſurplus?—What, can none of the many ſkilful index-makers, that we are now employing, find any trace of it?—Well, let them and that reſt together.—But are the journals, which ſay nothing of the revenue, as ſilent on the diſcontent?—Oh no! a child may find it. It is the melancholy burthen and blot of every page.

I THINK then I am, from thoſe journals, juſtified in the ſixth and laſt reſolution, which is— ‘"That it hath been found by experience, that the manner of granting the ſaid ſupplies and aids, by the ſaid general aſſemblies, hath been more agreeable to the ſaid colonies, and more beneficial, and conducive to the public [419] ſervice, than the mode of giving and granting aids in parliament, to be raiſed and paid in the ſaid colonies."’ This makes the whole of the fundamental part of the plan. The concluſion is irreſiſtible. You cannot ſay, that you were driven by any neceſſity, to an exerciſe of the utmoſt rights of legiſlature. You cannot aſſert, that you took on yourſelves the taſk of impoſing colony taxes, from the want of another legal body, that is competent to the purpoſe of ſupplying the exigencies of the ſtate without wounding the prejudices of the people. Neither is it true that the body ſo qualified, and having that competence, had neglected the duty.

THE queſtion now, on all this accumulated matter, is;—whether you will chuſe to abide by a profitable experience, or a miſchievous theory; whether you chuſe to build on imagination or fact; whether you prefer enjoyment or hope; ſatisfaction in your ſubjects, or diſcontent?

IF theſe propoſitions are accepted, every thing which has been made to enforce a contrary ſyſtem, muſt, I take it for granted, fall along with it. On that ground, I have drawn the following reſolution, which, when it comes to be moved, will naturally be divided in a proper manner: ‘"That it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the ſeventh year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for granting certain duties in the Britiſh colonies and plantations in America; for allowing a drawback of the duties of cuſtoms upon the exportation from this kingdom, of coffee and cocoa-nuts of the produce of the ſaid colonies or plantations; for diſcontinuing the drawbacks payable on China earthen-ware exported to America; and for more effectually preventing the clan-deſtine running of goods in the ſaid colonies and plantations.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act to diſcontinue in ſuch manner, [420] and for ſuch time, as are therein mentioned, the landing and diſcharging, lading or ſhipping, of goods, wares, and merchandize, at the town and within the harbour of Boſton, in the province of Maſſachuſet's Bay, in North America.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for the impartial adminiſtration of juſtice, in the caſes of perſons queſtioned for any acts done by them, in the execution of the law, or for the ſuppreſſion of riots and tumults, in the province of Maſſachuſet's Bay in New England.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for the better regulating the government of the province of the Maſſachuſet's Bay in New England.—And alſo that it may be proper to explain and amend an act, made in the thirty-fifth year of the reign of king Henry the eighth, intituled, An act for the trial of treaſons committed out of the king's dominions."’

I WISH, ſir, to repeal the Boſton port bill, becauſe (independently of the dangerous precedent of ſuſpending the rights of the ſubject during the king's pleaſure) it was paſſed, as I apprehend, with leſs regularity, and on more partial principles, than it ought. The corporation of Boſton was not heard, before it was condemned. Other towns, full as guilty as ſhe was, have not had their ports blocked up. Even the reſtraining bill of the preſent ſeſſion does not go to the length of the Boſton port act. The ſame ideas of prudence, which induced you not to extend equal puniſhment to equal guilt, even when you were puniſhing, induce me, who mean not to chaſtiſe, but to reconcile, to be ſatisfied with the puniſhment already partially inflicted.

IDEAS of prudence, and accomodation to circumſtances, prevent you from taking away the [421] charters of Connecticut and Rhode-iſland, as you have taken away that of Maſſachuſet's colony, though the crown has far leſs power in the two former provinces than it enjoyed in the latter; and though the abuſes have been full as great, and as flagrant, in the exempted as in the puniſhed. The ſame reaſons of prudence and accommodation have weight with me in reſtoring the charter of Maſſachuſet's Bay. Beſides, ſir, the act which changes the charter of Maſſachuſet's is in many particulars ſo exceptionable, that, if I did not wiſh abſolutely to repeal, I would by all means deſire to alter it; as ſeveral of its proviſions tend to the ſubverſion of all public and private juſtice. Such, among others, is the power in the governor to change the ſheriff at his pleaſure; and to make a new returning officer for every ſpecial cauſe. It is ſhameful to behold ſuch a regulation ſtanding among Engliſh laws.

THE act for bringing perſons accuſed of committing murder under the orders of government to England for trial, is but temporary. That act has calculated the probable duration of our quarrel with the colonies; and is accommodated to that ſuppoſed duration. I would haſten the happy moment of reconciliation; and therefore muſt, on my principle, get rid of that moſt juſtly obnoxious act.

THE act of Henry the eighth, for the trial of treaſons, I do not mean to take away, but to confine it to its proper bounds and original intention; to make it expreſsly for trial of treaſons (and the greateſt treaſons may be committed) in places where the juriſdiction of the crown does not extend.

HAVING guarded the privileges of local legiſlature, I would next ſecure to the colonies a fair and unbiaſſed judicature; for which purpoſe, ſir, I propoſe the following reſolution: ‘"That, from the time [422] when the general aſſembly or general court of any colony or plantation in North America, ſhall have appointed by act of aſſembly, duly confirmed, a ſettled ſalary to the offices of the chief juſtice and other judges of the ſuperior court, it may be proper, that the ſaid chief juſtice and other judges of the ſuperior courts of ſuch colony, ſhall hold his and their office and offices during their good behaviour; and ſhall not be removed therefrom, but when the ſaid removal ſhall be adjudged by his majeſty in council, upon a hearing on complaint from the general aſſembly, or on a complaint from the governor, or council, or the houſe of repreſentatives ſeverally, of the colony in which the ſaid chief juſtice and other judges have exerciſed the ſaid offices."’

THE next reſolution relates to the courts of admiralty.

IT is this. ‘"That it may be proper to regulate the courts of admiralty, or vice admiralty, authorized by the 15th chap. of the 4th of George the third, in ſuch a manner as to make the ſame more commodious to thoſe who ſue, or are ſued, in the ſaid courts, and to provide for the more decent maintenance of the judges in the ſame."’

THESE courts I do not wiſh to take away; they are in themſelves proper eſtabliſhments. This court is one of the capital ſecurities of the act of navigation. The extent of its juriſdiction, indeed, has been encreaſed; but this is altogether as proper, and is, indeed, on many accounts, more eligible, where new powers were wanted, than a court abſolutely new. But courts incommodiouſly ſituated, in effect, deny juſtice;l and a court, partaking in [423] the fruits of its own condemnation, is a robber. The congreſs complain, and complain juſtly, of this grievance.

THESE are the three conſequential propoſitions. I have thought of two or three more; but they come rather too near detail, and to the province of executive government, which I wiſh parliament always to ſuperintend, never to aſſume. If the firſt ſix are granted, congruity will carry the latter three. If not, the things that remain unrepealed, will be, I hope, rather unſeemly incumbrances on the building, than very materially detrimental to its ſtrength and ſtability.

HERE, ſir, I ſhould cloſe; but that I plainly perceive ſome objections remain, which, I ought, if poſſible, to remove. The firſt will be, that, in reſorting to the doctrine of our anceſtors, as contained in the preamble to the Cheſter act, I prove too much; that the grievance from a want of repreſentation, ſtated in that preamble, goes to the whole of legiſlation as well as to taxation. And that the colonies grounding themſelves upon that doctrine, will apply it to all parts of legiſlative authority.

TO this objection, with all poſſible deference and humility, and wiſhing as little as any man living to impair the ſmalleſt particle of our ſupreme authority, I anſwer, that the words are the words of parliament, and not mine; and, that all falſe and inconcluſive inferences, drawn from them, are not mine; for I heartily diſclaim any ſuch inference. I have choſen the words of an act of parliament, which Mr. Grenville, ſurely a tolerably zealous and very judicious advocate for the ſovereignty of parliament, formerly moved to have read at your table, in confirmation of his tenets. It is true that lord Chatham conſidered theſe preambles as declaring ſtrongly in favour [424] of his opinions. He was a no leſs powerful advocate for the privileges of the Americans. Ought I not from hence to preſume, that theſe preambles are as favourable as poſſible to both, when properly underſtood; favourable both to the rights of parliament, and to the privilege of the dependencies of this crown? But, ſir, the object of grievance in my reſolution, I have not taken from the Cheſter, but from the Durham act, which confines the hardſhip of want of repreſentation, to the caſe of ſubſidies; and which therefore falls in exactly with the caſe of the colonies. But whether the unrepreſented counties were de jure, or de facto, bound, the preambles do not accurately diſtinguiſh; nor indeed was it neceſſary; for, whether de jure, or de facto, the legiſlature thought the exerciſe of the power of taxing, as of right, or as of fact without right, equally a grievance and equally oppreſſive.

I DO not know, that the colonies have, in any geral way, or in any cool hour, gone much beyond the demand of immunity in relation to taxes. It is not fair to judge of the temper or diſpoſitions of any man, or any ſet of men, when they are compoſed and at reſt, from their conduct, or their expreſſions, in a ſtate of diſturbance and irritation. It is beſides a very great miſtake to imagine, that mankind follow up practically any ſpeculative principle, either of government or of freedom, as far as it will go in argument and logical illation. We Engliſhmen, ſtop very ſhort of the principles upon which we ſupport any given part of our conſtitution; or even the whole of it together. I could eaſily, if I had not already tired you, give you very ſtriking and convincing inſtances of it. This is nothing but what is natural and proper. All government, indeed every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue, and every prudent act, is founded on compromiſe [425] and barter. We balance inconveniencies; we give and take; we remit ſome rights, that we may enjoy others; and, we chuſe rather to be happy citizens, than ſubtle diſputants. As we muſt give away ſome natural liberty, to enjoy civil advantages; ſo we muſt ſacrifice ſome civil liberties, for the advantages to be derived from the communion and fellowſhip of a great empire. But in all fair dealings the thing bought, muſt bear ſome proportion to the purchaſe paid. None will barter away the immediate jewel of his ſoul. Though a great houſe is apt to make ſlaves haughty, yet it is purchaſing a part of the artificial importance of a great empire too dear, to pay for it all eſſential rights, and all the intrinſic dignity of human nature. None of us who would not riſque his life, rather than fall under a government purely arbitrary. But, although there are ſome amongſt us who think our conſtitution wants many improvements, to make it a complete ſyſtem of liberty, perhaps none who are of that opinion, would think it right to aim at ſuch improvement, by diſturbing his country, and riſquing every thing that is dear to him. In every arduous enterprize, we conſider what we are to loſe, as well as what we are to gain; and the more and better ſtake of liberty every people poſſeſs, the leſs they will hazard in a vain attempt to make it more. Theſe are the cords of man. Man acts from adequate motives relative to his intereſt; and not on metaphyſical ſpeculations. Ariſtotle, the great maſter of reaſoning, cautions us, and with great weight and propriety, againſt this ſpecies of deluſive geometrical accuracy in moral arguments, as the moſt fallacious of all ſophiſtry.

THE Americans will have no intereſt contrary to the grandeur and glory of England, when they are not oppreſſed by the weight of it; and they will rather [426] be inclined to reſpect the acts of a ſuperintending legiſlature; when they ſee them the acts of that power, which is itſelf the ſecurity, not the rival, of their ſecondary importance. In this aſſurance, my mind moſt perfectly acquieſces; and I confeſs, I feel not the leaſt alarm, from the diſcontents which are to ariſe, from putting people at their eaſe; nor do I apprehend the deſtruction of this empire, from giving, by an act of free grace and indulgence, to two millions of my fellow citizens, ſome ſhare of thoſe rights, upon which I have always been taught to value myſelf.

IT is ſaid indeed, that this power of granting veſted in American aſſemblies, would diſſolve the unity of the empire; which was preſerved, entire, although Wales, and Cheſter, and Durham, were added to it. Truly, Mr. Speaker, I do not know what this unity means; nor has it ever been heard of, that I know, in the conſtitutional policy of this country. The very idea of ſubordination of parts, excludes this notion of ſimple and undivided unity. England is the head; but ſhe is not the head and the members too. Ireland has ever had from the beginning a ſeparate, but not an independent, legiſlature; which, far from diſtracting, promoted the union of the whole. Every thing was ſweetly and harmoniouſly diſpoſed through both iſlands for the conſervation of Engliſh dominion, and the communication of Engliſh liberties. I do not ſee that the ſame principles might not be carried into twenty iſlands, and with the ſame good effect. This is my model with regard to America, as far as the internal circumſtances of the two countries are the ſame. I know no other unity of this empire, than I can draw from its example during theſe periods, when it ſeemed to my poor underſtanding more united than it is now, or than it is likely to be by the preſent methods.

[427]BUT ſince I ſpeak of theſe methods, I recollect, Mr. Speaker, almoſt too late, that I promiſed, before I finiſhed, to ſay ſomething of the propoſition of the m noble lord on the floor, which has been ſo lately received, and ſtands on your journals. I muſt be deeply concerned, whenever it is my misfortune to continue a difference with the majority of this houſe. But as the reaſons for that difference are my apology for thus troubling you, ſuffer me to ſtate them in a very few words. I ſhall compreſs them into as ſmall a body as I poſſibly can, having already debated that matter at large, when the queſtion was before the committee.

FIRST, then, I cannot admit that propoſition of a ranſom by auction;—becauſe it is a meer project. It is a thing new; unheard of; ſupported by no experience; juſtified by no analogy; without example of our anceſtors, or root in the conſtitution. It is neither regular parliamentary taxation, nor colony grant. Experimentum in corpore vili, is a good rule, which will ever make me adverſe to any trial of experiments on what is certainly the moſt valuable of all ſubjects; the peace of this empire.

SECONDLY, it is an experiment which muſt be fatal in the end to our conſtitution. For what is it but a ſcheme for taxing the colonies in the anti-chamber of the noble lord and his ſucceſſors? To ſettle the quotas and proportions in this houſe, is clearly impoſſible. You, ſir, may flatter yourſelf, you ſhall ſit a ſtate auctioneer with your hammer in your hand, and knock down to each colony as it bids. But to ſettle (on the plan laid down by the noble lord) the true proportional payment for four or five and twenty governments, according to the abſolute and the relative wealth of each, and according to the Britiſh proportion of wealth and burthen, [428] is a wild and chimerical notion. This new taxation muſt therefore come in by the back-door of the conſtitution. Each quota muſt be brought to this houſe ready formed; you can neither add nor alter. You muſt regiſter it. You can do nothing further. For on what grounds can you deliberate either before or after the propoſition? You cannot hear the counſel for all theſe provinces, quarrelling each on its own quantity of payment, and its proportion to others. If you ſhould attempt it, the committee of provincial ways and means, or by whatever other name it will delight to be called, muſt ſwallow up all the time of parliament.

THIRDLY, it does not give ſatisfaction to the complaint of the colonies. They complain, that they are taxed without their conſent; you anſwer, that you will fix the ſum at which they ſhall be taxed. That is, you give them the very grievance for the remedy. You tell them indeed, that you will leave the mode to themſelves. I really beg pardon: it gives me pain to mention it; but you muſt be ſenſible that you will not perform this part of the compact. For, ſuppoſe the colonies were to lay the duties which furniſhed their contingent, upon the importation of your manufactures; you know you would never ſuffer ſuch a tax to be laid. You know too, that you would not ſuffer many other modes of taxation. So that, when you come to explain yourſelf, it will be found, that you will neither leave to themſelves the quantum nor the mode; nor indeed any thing. The whole is deluſion from one end to the other.

FOURTHLY, this method of ranſom by auction, unleſs it be univerſally accepted, will plunge you into great and inextricable difficulties. In what year of our Lord are the proportions of payments to be ſettled? To ſay nothing of the impoſſibility that colony [429] agents ſhould have general powers of taxing the colonies at their diſcretion; conſider, I implore you, that the communication by ſpecial meſſages, and orders between theſe agents and their conſtituents on each variation of the caſe, when the parties come to contend together, and to diſpute on their relative proportions, will be a matter of delay, perplexity, and confuſion, that never can have an end.

IF all the colonies do not appear at the outcry, what is the condition of thoſe aſſemblies, who offer, by themſelves or their agents, to tax themſelves up to your ideas of their proportion? The refractory colonies, who refuſe all compoſition, will remain taxed only to your old impoſitions; which, however grievous in principle, are trifling as to production. The obedient colonies in this ſcheme are heavily taxed; the refractory remain unburthened. What will you do? Will you lay new and heavier taxes by parliament on the diſobedient? Pray conſider in what way you can do it? You are perfectly convinced that in the way of taxing, you can do nothing but at the ports. Now ſuppoſe it is Virginia that refuſes to appear at your auction, while Maryland and North Carolina bid handſomely for their ranſom, and are taxed to your quota? How will you put theſe colonies on a par? Will you tax the tobacco of Virginia? If you do, you give its death-wound to your Engliſh revenue at home, and to one of the very greateſt articles of your own foreign trade. If you tax the import of that rebellious colony, what do you tax but your own manufactures, or the goods of ſome other obedient, and already well-taxed colony? Who has ſaid one word on this labyrinth of detail, which bewilders you more and more as you enter into it? Who has preſented, who can preſent you, with a clue, to lead you out of it? I think, ſir, it is impoſſible, that you ſhould not recollect [430] that the colony bounds are ſo implicated in one another (you know it by your other experiments in the bill for prohibiting the New-England fiſhery) that you can lay no poſſible reſtraints on almoſt any of them which may no be preſently eluded, if you do not confound the innocent with the guilty, and burthen thoſe whom upon every principle, you ought to exonerate. He muſt be groſsly ignorant of America, who thinks, that, without falling into this confuſion of all rules of equity and policy, you can reſtrain any ſingle colony, eſpecially Virginia and Maryland, the central, and moſt important of them all.

LET it alſo be conſidered, that, either in the preſent confuſion you ſettle a permanent contingent, which will and muſt be trifling; and then you have no effectual revenue: or you change the quota at every exigency; and then on every new repartition you will have a new quarrel.

REFLECT beſides, that when you have fixed a quota for every colony, you have not provided for prompt and punctual payment. Suppoſe one, two, five, ten years arrears. You cannot iſſue a treaſury extent againſt the failing colony. You muſt make new Boſton port bills, new reſtraining laws, new acts for dragging men to England for trial. You muſt ſend out new fleets, new armies. All is to begin again. From this day forward the empire is never to know an hour's tranquillity. An inteſtine fire will be kept alive in the bowels of the colonies, which one time or other muſt conſume this whole empire. I allow indeed that the empire of Germany raiſes her revenue and her troops by quotas and contingents; but the revenue of the empire, and the army of the empire, is the worſt revenue, and the worſt army, in the world.

[431]INSTEAD of a ſtanding revenue, you will therefore have a perpetual quarrel. Indeed the noble lord, who propoſed this project of a ranſom by auction, ſeemed himſelf to be of that opinion. His project was rather deſigned for breaking the union of the colonies, than for eſtabliſhing a revenue. He confeſſed, he apprehended that his propoſal would not be to their taſte. I ſay, this ſcheme of diſunion ſeems to be at the bottom of the project; for I will not ſuſpect that the noble lord meant nothing but merely to delude the nation by an airy phantom which he never intended to realize. But, whatever his views may be; as I propoſe the peace and union of the colonies as the very foundation of my plan, it cannot accord with one whoſe foundation is perpetual diſcord.

COMPARE the two. This I offer to give you is plain and ſimple. The other full of perplexed and intricate mazes. This is mild; that harſh. This is found by experience effectual for its purpoſes; the other is a new project. This is univerſal; the other calculated for certain colonies only. This is immediate in its conciliatory operation; the other remote, contingent, full of hazard. Mine is what becomes the dignity of a ruling people; gratuitous, unconditional, and not held out as matter of bargain and ſale. I have done my duty in propoſing it to you. I have indeed tired you by a long diſcourſe; but this is the misfortune of thoſe to whoſe influence nothing will be conceded, and who muſt win every inch of their ground by argument. You have heard me with goodneſs. May you decide with wiſdom! For my part, I feel my mind greatly diſburthened, by what I have done to-day. I have been the leſs fearful of trying your patience, becauſe on this ſubject I mean to ſpare it altogether in future. I have this comfort, that in every ſtage [432] of the American affairs, I have ſteadily oppoſed the meaſures that have produced the confuſion, and may bring on the deſtruction, of this empire. I now go ſo far as to riſque a propoſal of my own. If I cannot give peace to my country; I give it to my conſcience.

BUT what (ſays the financier) is peace to us without money? Your plan gives us no revenue. No! But it does—For it ſecures to the ſubject the power of REFUSAL; the firſt of all revenues. Experience is a cheat, and fact a liar, if this power in the ſubject of proportioning his grant, or of not granting at all, has not been found the richeſt mine of revenue ever diſcovered by the ſkill or by the fortune of man. It does not indeed vote you £. 152 750: 11: 2¾ths, nor any other paltry limited ſum.—But it gives the ſtrong box itſelf, the fund, the bank, from whence only revenues can ariſe amongſt a people ſenſible of freedom: Poſita luditur arca. Cannot you in England; cannot you at this time of day; cannot you, an houſe of commons, truſt to the principle which has raiſed ſo mighty a revenue, and accumulated a debt of near 140 millions in this country? Is this principle to be true in England, and falſe every where elſe? Is it not true in Ireland? Has it not hitherto been true in the colonies? Why ſhould you preſume that, in any country, a body duly conſtituted for any function, will neglect to perform its duty, and abdicate its truſt? Such a preſumption would go againſt all government in all modes. But, in truth, this dread of penury of ſupply, from a free aſſembly, has no foundation in nature. For firſt obſerve, that, beſides the deſire which all men have naturally of ſupporting the honour of their own government; that ſenſe of dignity, and that ſecurity to property, which ever attends freedom, has a tendency to increaſe [433] the ſtock of the free community. Moſt may be taken where moſt is accumulated. And what is the ſoil or climate where experience has not uniformly proved, that the voluntary flow of heaped-up plenty, burſting from the weight of its own rich luxuriance, has ever run with a more copious ſtream of revenue, than could be ſqueezed from the dry huſks of oppreſſed indigence, by the ſtraining of all the politic machinery in the world.

NEXT we know, that parties muſt ever exiſt in a free country. We know too, that the emulations of ſuch parties, their contradictions, their reciprocal neceſſities, their hopes, and their fears, muſt ſend them all in their turns to him that holds the balance of the ſtate. The parties are the gameſters; but government keeps the table, and is ſure to be the winner in the end. When this game is played, I really think it is more to be feared, that the people will be exhauſted, than that government will not be ſupplied. Whereas, whatever is got by acts of abſolute power ill obeyed, becauſe odious, or by contracts ill kept, becauſe conſtrained; will be narrow, feeble, uncertain, and precarious. ‘"Eaſe would retract vows made in pain, as violent and void."’

I, for one, proteſt againſt compounding our demands: I declare againſt compounding, for a poor limited ſum, the immenſe, evergrowing, eternal debt, which is due to generous government from protected freedom. And ſo may I ſpeed in the great object I propoſe to you, as I think it would not only be an act of injuſtice, but would be the worſt oeconomy in the world, to compel the colonies to a ſum certain, either in the way of ranſom, or in the way of compulſory compact.

BUT to clear up my ideas on this ſubject—a revenue from America tranſmitted hither—do not [434] delude yourſelves—you never can receive it—No, not a ſhilling. We have experience that from remote countries it is not to be expected. If, when you attempted to extract revenue from Bengal, you were obliged to return in loan what you had taken in impoſition; what can you expect from North America? for certainly, if ever there was a country qualified to produce wealth, it is India; or an inſtitution fit for the tranſmiſſion, it is the Eaſt-India company. America has none of theſe aptitudes. If America gives you taxable objects, on which you lay your duties here, and gives you, at the ſame time, a ſurplus by a foreign ſale of her commodities to pay the duties on theſe objects which you tax at home, ſhe has performed her part to the Britiſh revenue. But with regard to her own internal eſtabliſhments; ſhe may, I doubt not ſhe will, contribute in moderation. I ſay in moderation; for ſhe ought not to be permitted to exhauſt herſelf. She ought to be reſerved to a war; the weight of which, with the enemies that we are moſt likely to have, muſt be conſiderable in her quarter of the globe. There ſhe may ſerve you, and ſerve you eſſentially.

FOR that ſervice, for all ſervice, whether of revenue, trade, or empire, my truſt is in her intereſt in the Britiſh conſtitution. My hold of the colonies is in the cloſe affection which grows from common names, from kindred blood, from ſimilar privileges, and equal protection. Theſe are ties, which, though light as air, are as ſtrong as links of iron. Let the colonies always keep the idea of their civil rights aſſociated with your government;—they will cling and grapple to you; and no force under heaven will be of power to tear them from their allegiance. But let it be once underſtood, that your government may be one thing, and their privileges another; that theſe two things may exiſt without any [435] mutual relation; the cement is gone; the coheſion is looſened; and every thing haſtens to decay and diſſolution. As long as you have the wiſdom to keep the ſovereign authority of this country as the ſanctuary of liberty, the ſacred temple conſecrated to our common faith, wherever the choſen race and ſons of England worſhip freedom, they will turn their faces towards you. The more they multiply, the more friends you will have; the more ardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience. Slavery they can have any where. It is a weed that grows in every ſoil. They may have it from Spain, they may have it from Pruſſia. But until you become loſt to all feeling of your true intereſt and your natural dignity, freedom they can have from none but you. This is the commodity of price, of which you have the monopoly. This is the true act of navigation, which binds to you the commerce of the colonies, and through them ſecures to you the wealth of the world. Deny them this participation of freedom, and you break that ſole bond, which originally made, and muſt ſtill preſerve, the unity of the empire. Do not entertain ſo weak an imagination, as that your regiſters and your bonds, your affidavits and your ſufferances, your cockets and your clearances, are what form the great ſecurities of your commerce. Do not dream that your letters of office, and your inſtructions, and your ſuſpending clauſes, are the things that hold together the great contexture of this myſterious whole. Theſe things do not make your government. Dead inſtruments, paſſive tools as they are, it is the ſpirit of Engliſh communion that gives all their life and efficacy to them. It is the ſpirit of the Engliſh conſtitution, which, infuſed through the mighty maſs, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies, every part of the empire, even down to the minuteſt member.

[436]IS it not the ſame virtue which does every thing for us here in England? Do you imagine then, that it is the land-tax act which raiſes your revenue? that it is the annual vote in the committee of ſupply, which gives you your army? or that it is the mutiny bill which inſpires it with bravery and diſcipline? No! ſurely no! It is the love of the people; it is their attachment to their government from the ſenſe of the deep ſtake they have in ſuch a glorious inſtitution, which gives you your army and your navy, and infuſes into both that liberal obedience, without which your army would be a baſe rabble, and your navy nothing but rotten timber.

ALL this, I know well enough, will ſound wild and chimerical to the prophane herd of thoſe vulgar and mechanical politicians, who have no place among us; a ſort of people who think that nothing exiſts but what is groſs and material; and who therefore, far from being qualified to be directors of the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel in the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly taught, theſe ruling and maſter principles, which, in the opinion of ſuch men as I have mentioned, have no ſubſtantial exiſtence, are in truth every thing, and all in all. Magnanimity in politics is not ſeldom the trueſt wiſdom; and a great empire and little minds go ill together. If we are conſcious of our ſituation, and glow with zeal to fill our place as becomes our ſtation and ourſelves, we ought to auſpicate all our public proceedings on America, with the old warning of the church, Surſum corda! We ought to elevate our minds to the greatneſs of that truſt to which the order of Providence has called us. By adverting to the dignity of this high calling, our anceſtors have turned a ſavage wilderneſs into a glorious empire; [437] and have made the moſt extenſive, and the only honourable conqueſts; not by deſtroying, but by promoting, the wealth, the number, the happineſs, of the human race. Let us get an American revenue as we have got an American empire. Engliſh privileges have made it all that it is; Engliſh privileges alone will make it all it can be.

IN full confidence of this unalterable truth, I now (quod felix fauſtumque ſit)—lay the firſt ſtone of the temple of peace; and I move you,

‘"THAT the colonies and plantations of Great Britain in North America, conſiſting of fourteen ſeparate governments, and containing two millions and upwards of free inhabitants, have not had the liberty and privilege of electing and ſending any knights and burgeſſes, or others, to repreſent them in the high court of parliament."’

UPON this reſolution, the previous queſtion was put, and carried;—for the previous queſtion 270,—againſt it 78.

As the propoſitions were opened ſeparately in the body of the ſpeech, the reader perhaps may wiſh to ſee the whole of them together, in the form in which they were moved for.

MOVED,

‘"THAT the colonies and plantations of Great Britain in North America, conſiſting of fourteen ſeparate governments, and containing two millions and upwards of free inhabitants, have not had the liberty and privilege of electing and ſending any knights and burgeſſes, or others, to repreſent them in the high court of parliament."’

[438] ‘"THAT the ſaid colonies and plantations have been made liable to, and bounden by, ſeveral ſubſidies, payments, rates, and taxes, given and granted by parliament; though the ſaid colonies and plantations have not their knights and burgeſſes, in the ſaid high court of parliament, of their own election, to repreſent the condition of their country; by lack whereof, they have been oftentimes touched and grieved by ſubſidies given, granted, and aſſented to, in the ſaid court, in a manner prejudicial to the commonwealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace, of the ſubjects inhabiting within the ſame."’

‘"THAT, from the diſtance of the ſaid colonies, and from other circumſtances, no method hath hitherto been deviſed for procuring a repreſentation in parliament for the ſaid colonies."’

‘"THAT each of the ſaid colonies hath within itſelf a body, choſen, in part or in the whole, by the freemen, freeholders, or other free inhabitants thereof, commonly called the general aſſembly, or general court; with powers legally to raiſe, levy, and aſſeſs, according to the ſeveral uſage of ſuch colonies, duties and taxes towards defraying all ſorts of public ſervices."n

‘"THAT the ſaid general aſſemblies, general courts, or other bodies, legally qualified as aforeſaid, have at ſundry times freely granted ſeveral large ſubſidies and public aids for his majeſty's ſervice, according to their abilities, when required thereto by letter from one of his majeſty's principal ſecretaries of ſtate; and that their right to grant the ſame, and their chearfulneſs and ſufficiency [439] in the ſaid grants, have been at ſundry times acknowledged by parliament."’

‘"THAT it hath been found by experience, that the manner of granting the ſaid ſupplies and aids, by the ſaid general aſſemblies, hath been more agreeable to the inhabitants of the ſaid colonies, and more beneficial and conducive to the public ſervice, than the mode of giving and granting aids and ſubſidies in parliament to be raiſed and paid in the ſaid colonies."’

‘"THAT it may be proper to repeal an act made in the 7th year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for granting certain duties in the Britiſh colonies and plantations in America; for allowing a draw-back of the duties of cuſtoms, upon the exportation from this kingdom, of coffee and cocoa-nuts, of the produce of the ſaid colonies or plantations; for diſcontinuing the draw-backs payable on China earthen-ware exported to America; and for more effectually preventing the clandeſtine running of goods in the ſaid colonies and plantations."’

‘"THAT it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the 14th year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act to diſcontinue, in ſuch manner, and for ſuch time, as are therein mentioned, the landing and diſcharging, lading or ſhipping of goods, wares, and merchandize, at the town, and within the harbour, of Boſton, in the province of Maſſachuſet's Bay, in North America."’

‘"THAT it may be proper to repeal an act made in the 14th year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for the impartial adminiſtration of juſtice, in caſes of perſons queſtioned for any acts done by them in the execution of the law, or for the ſuppreſſion of riots and tumults, in the province of Maſſachuſet's Bay, in New England."’

[440] ‘"THAT it is proper to repeal an act, made in the 14th year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for the better regulating the government of the province of the Maſſachuſet's Bay in New England."’

‘"THAT it is proper to explain and amend an act made in the 35th year of the reign of king Henry VIII. intituled, An act for the trial of treaſons committed out of the king's dominions."’

‘"THAT, from the time when the general aſſembly, or general court, of any colony or plantation, in North America, ſhall have appointed, by act of aſſembly duly confirmed, a ſettled ſalary to the offices of the chief juſtice and judges of the ſuperior courts, it may be proper that the ſaid chief juſtice and other judges of the ſuperior courts of ſuch colony ſhall hold his and their office and offices during their good behaviour; and ſhall not be removed therefrom, but when the ſaid removal ſhall be adjudged by his majeſty in council, upon a hearing on complaint from the general aſſembly, or on a complaint from the governor, or council, or the houſe of repreſentatives, ſeverally, of the colony in which the ſaid chief juſtice and other judges have exerciſed the ſaid office."’

‘"THAT it may be proper to regulate the courts of admiralty, or vice-admiralty, authorized by the 15th chapter of the 4th of George III. in ſuch a manner as to make the ſame more commodious to thoſe who ſue, or are ſued, in the ſaid courts; and to provide for the more decent maintenance of the judges of the ſame."’

FINIS.
Notes
a
Hiſtory of the Minority. Hiſtory of the Repeal of the Stamp-act. Conſiderations on Trade and Finances. Political Regiſter, &c. &c.
b
P. 6, 7, 8.9.10.
c
P. 9, 10.
d
P. 9.
e
P. 9.
f
P. 6.
g
P. 9.
h
  £.
Total imports from the Weſt Indies in 1764, 2.909.411
Exports to ditto in ditto, 896.511
Exceſs of imports,£.2.012 900

In this, which is the common way of ſtating the balance, it will appear upwards of two millions againſt us; which is ridiculous.

i
P. 6.
k
1754.
  £.s.d.
Total export of Britiſh goods,value,8.317.506153
Ditto of foreign goods in time, 2.910.836149
Ditto of ditto out of time, 559.485210
Total exports of all kinds, 11.787.8281210
Total imports, 8.093.472150
Balance in favour of England,£.3.694.3551710

1761.
  £.s.d.
Total exports of Britiſh goods, 10.649.581.126
Ditto of foreign goods in time, 3.553.69271
Ditto of ditto out of time, 355.01502
Total exports of all kinds, 14.558.288199
Total imports, 9.294.91516
Balance in favour of England,£.5.263.373183

Here is the ſtate of our trade in 1761, compared with a very good year of profound peace: both are taken from the authentic entries at the cuſtom-houſe. How the author can contrive to make this encreaſe of the export of Engliſh produce agree with his account of the dreadful want of hands in England, p. 9, unleſs he ſuppoſes manufactures to be made without hands, I really do not ſee. It is painful to be ſo frequently obliged to ſet this author right in matters of fact. This ſtate will fully refute all that he has ſaid or inſinuated upon the difficulties and decay of our trade, p. 6, 7, and 9.

l
P. 7. See alſo p. 13.
m
P. 12, 13.
n
P. 17.
o
P. 6.
p

‘"Our merchants ſuffered by the detention of the galleons, as their correſpondents in Spain were diſabled from paying them for their goods ſent to America." State of the Nation. p. 7.

q
P. 12, 13.
r
P. 6.
s

Something however has tranſpired in the quarrels among thoſe concerned in that tranſaction. It ſeems the good genius of Britain, ſo much vaunted by our author, did his duty nobly. Whilſt we were gaining ſuch advantages, the court of France was aſtoniſhed at our conceſſions. ‘"J'ai apporté à Verſailes, il eſt vrai, les ratifications du Roi d'Angleterre à voſtre grand étonnement, et à celui de bien d'autres. Je dois cela au bontés du Roi d'Angleterre, à celles de Milord Bute, à Monſ. le Comte de Viry, à Monſ. le Duc de Nivernois, et en fin à mon ſcavoir faire." Lettres, &c. du Chev. D'Eon. p. 51.

t

‘"The navy bills are not due till ſix months after they have been iſſued; ſix months alſo of the ſeamens wages by act of parliament muſt be, and in conſequence of the rules preſcribed by that act, twelve months wages generally, and often much more, are retained; and there has been beſides at all times a large arrear of pay, which, though kept in the account, could never be claimed, the perſons to whom it was due having left neither aſſignees nor repreſentatives. The preciſe amount of ſuch ſums cannot be aſcertained; but they can hardly be reckoned leſs than 13 or 14 hundred thouſand pounds. On 31ſt Dec. 1754, when the navy debt was reduced nearly as low as it could be, it ſtill amounted to 1.296.567l. 18s. 11¾d. conſiſting chiefly of articles which could not then be diſcharged; ſuch articles will be larger now, in proportion to the encreaſe of the eſtabliſhment; and an allowance muſt always be made for them in judging of the ſtate of the navy debt, though they are not diſtinguiſhable in the account. In providing for that which is payable, the principal object of the legiſlature is always to diſcharge the bills, for they are the greateſt article; they bear an intereſt of 4 per cent.; and, when the quantity of them is large, they are a heavy incumbrance upon all money tranſactions."’

u
  £.
Navy, 1.450.900
Army, 1.268.500
Ordnance, 174.600
The Four American Governments, 19.200
General Surveys in America, 1.600
Foundling Hoſpital, 38.000
To the African Committee, 13.000
For the Civil Eſtabliſhment on the Coaſt of Africa, 5.500
Militia, 100.000
Deficiency of Land and Malt, 300.000
Deficiency of Funds, 202.400
Extraordinaries of the Army and Navy, 35.0000
 Total, £.3.609 000
w

Upon the money borrowed in 1760, the premium of one per cent. was for 21 years, not for 20; this annuity has been paid eight years inſtead of ſeven; the ſum paid is therefore £. 640.000 inſtead of £. 560 000; the remaining term is worth 10 years and a quarter inſtead of 11 years; * its value is £. 820.000 inſtead of £. 880.000; and the whole value of that premium is £. 1.460.000 inſtead of £. 1.440.000. The like errors are obſervable in his computation on the additional capital of three per cent. on the loan of that year. In like manner, on the loan of 1762, the author computes on five years payments inſtead of ſix; and ſays in expreſs terms, that take five from 19, and there remains 13. Theſe are not errors of the pen or the preſs; the ſeveral computations purſued in this part of the work with great diligence and earneſtneſs prove them errors upon much deliberation. Thus the premiums in 1759 are caſt up £. 90.000 too little, an error in the firſt rule of arithmetic. ‘"The annuities borrowed in 1756 and 1758 are," ſays he, "to continue till redeemed by parliament."’ He does not take notice that the firſt are irredeemable till February 1771, the other till July 1782. In this the amount of the premiums is computed on the time which they have run. Weakly and ignorantly; for he might have added to this, and ſtrengthened his argument, ſuch as it is, by charging alſo the value of the additional one per cent. from the day on which he wrote to at leaſt that day on which theſe annuities become redeemable. To make ample amends, however, he has added to the premiums of 15 per cent. in 1759, and three per cent. in 1760, the annuity paid for them ſince their commencement; the fallacy of which is manifeſt; for the premiums in theſe caſes can be neither more nor leſs than the additional capital for which the public ſtands engaged, and is juſt the ſame whether five or 500 years annuity has been paid for it. In private life, no man perſuades himſelf that he has borrowed £. 200, becauſe he happens to have paid 20 years intereſt on loan of £. 100.

*
See Smart and Demoivre.
x
P. 30, 31, 32.
y
In a courſe of years a few manufacturers have been tempted abroad, not by cheap living, but by immenſe premiums, to ſet up as maſters, and to introduce the manufacture. This muſt happen in every country eminent for the ſkill of its artificers, and has nothing to do with taxes and the price of proviſions.
z
Although the public brewery has conſiderably encreaſed in this latter period, the produce of the malt tax has been ſomething leſs than in the former; this cannot be attributed to the new malt tax. Had this been the cauſe of the leſſened conſumption, the public brewery, ſo much more burthened, muſt have felt it more. The cauſe of this diminution of the malt tax, I take to have been principally owing to the greater dearneſs of corn in the ſecond period than the firſt, which, in all its conſequences, affected the people in the country much more than thoſe in the towns. But the revenue from conſumption was not on the whole impaired, as we have ſeen in the foregoing page.
a
 Total imports, value, £.Exports, ditto. £.
1752. 7.889.369 11.694.912
1753. 8.625.029 12.243.604
1754. 8.093.472 11.787.828
Total,£.24 607.870 35.726.344
    24.607.870
 Exports exceed imports, 11.118.474
 Medium balance,£.3.706.158

  £. £.
1764. 10.319.946 16.164.532
1765. 10.889.742 14.550.507
1766. 11.475.825 14.024.964
Total,£.32.685.513 44.740.003
    32.685.513
 Exports exceed, 12.054.490
Medium balance for three laſt years,£.4.018.163
b
It is dearer in ſome places, and rather cheaper in others; but it muſt ſoon all come to a level.
c
A tax rated by the intendant in each generality on the preſumed fortune of every perſon below the degree of a gentleman.
d
Before the war it was ſold to, or rather forced on, the conſumer at 11 ſous, or about 5d. the pound. What it is at preſent, I am not informed. Even this will appear no trivial impoſition. In London, ſalt may be had at a penny farthing per pound from the laſt retailer.
e
P. 31.
f
P. 33.
i
The figures in the Conſiderations are wrong caſt up; it ſhould be £. 3.608.700.
k
Confid. p. 43. St. of N. p. 33.
l
Ibid.
m
P. 34.
n
The author of the State of the Nation, p. 34, informs us, that the ſum of £. 75.000, allowed by him for the extras of the army and ordnance, is far leſs than was allowed for the ſame ſervice in the years 1767 and 1768. It is ſo undoubtedly, and by at leaſt £. 200.000. He ſees that he cannot abide by the plan of the Conſiderations in this point, nor is he willing wholly to give it up. Such an enormous difference as that between £. 35.000 and £. 300.000 puts him to a ſtand. Should he adopt the latter plan of encreaſed expence, he muſt then confeſs, that he had, on a former occaſion, egregiouſly trifled with the public; at the ſame time all his future promiſes of reduction muſt fall to the ground. If he ſtuck to the £. 35.000, he was ſure that every one muſt expect from him ſome account how this monſtrous charge came to continue ever ſince the war, when it was clearly unneceſſary; how all thoſe ſucceſſions of miniſters (his own included) came to pay it; and why his great friend in parliament, and his partizans without doors, came not to purſue to ruin, at leaſt to utter ſhame, the authors of ſo groundleſs and ſcandalous a profuſion. In this ſtrait he took a middle way; and, to come nearer the real ſtate of the ſervice, he outbid the Conſiderations, at one ſtroke, £. 40.000; at ſame time he hints to you, that you may expect ſome benefit alſo from the original plan. But the author of the Conſiderations will not ſuffer him to eſcape ſo. He has pinned him down to his £. 35.000; for that is the ſum he has choſen, not as what he thinks will probably be required, but as making the moſt ample allowance for every poſſible contingency. See that author, p. 42 and 43.
o
He has done great injuſtice to the eſtabliſhment of 1768; but I have not here time for this diſcuſſion; nor is it neceſſary to this argument.
p
P. 34.
q

In making up this account, he falls into a ſurprizing error of arithmetic. *"The deficiency of the land-tax in the year 1754 and 1755, when it was at 2s. amounted to no more, on a medium, than £. 40.372; to which, if we add half the ſum, it will give us £. 79.058 as the peace deficiency at 3s."’

  £.
Total, 49 372
Add the half, 24.686
Reſult,£.74.058

Which he makes £. 79.058. This is indeed in disfavour of his argument; but we ſhall ſee that he has ways, by other errors, of reimburſing himſelf.

*
P. 3.
r
P. 34.
s
P. 43.
t
P. 35.
u
P. 37.
w
P. 37, 38.
x
P. 39, 40.
y
P. 39.
z
It is obſervable, that the partizans of American taxation, when they have a mind to repreſent this tax as wonderfully beneficial to England, ſtate it as worth £. 100000 a year; when they are to repreſent it as very light on the Americans, it dwindles to £. 60.000. Indeed it is very difficult to compute what its produce might have been.
a
Conſid. p. 74.
b
Conſid. p. 79.
c
Conſid. p. 74.
d
I do not here enter into the unſatisfactory diſquiſition concerning repreſentation real or preſumed. I only ſay, that a great people, who have their property, without any reſerve, in all caſes, d [...]ſpoſed of by another people at an immenſe diſtance from them, will not think themſelves in the enjoyment of freedom. It will be hard to ſhew to thoſe who are in ſuch a ſtate, which of the uſual parts of the definition or deſcription of a free people are applicable to them; and it is neither pleaſant nor wiſe to attempt to prove that they have no right to be comprehended in ſuch a deſcription.
e
P. 21.
f

Here the author has a note altogether in his uſual ſtrain of reaſoning; he finds out that ſomebody, in the courſe of this multifarious evidence, had ſaid, ‘"that a very conſiderable part of the orders of 1765 tranſmitted from America had been afterwards ſuſpended; but that, in caſe the ſtamp act was repealed, thoſe orders were to be executed in the preſent year 1766;"’ and that on the repeal of the ſtamp act, ‘"the exports to the colonies would be at leaſt double the value of the exports of the paſt year."’ He then triumphs exceedingly on their having fallen ſhort of it on the ſtate of the cuſtom-houſe entries. I do not well know what concluſion he draws applicable to his purpoſe, from theſe facts. He does not deny that all the orders which came from America ſubſequent to the diſturbances of the ſtamp act were on the condition of that act being repealed; and he does not aſſert that, notwithſtanding that act ſhould be enforced by a ſtrong hand, ſtill the orders would be executed. Neither does he quite venture to ſay that this decline of the trade in 1766 was owing to the repeal. What does he therefore infer from it, favourable to the enforcement of that law? It only comes to this, and no more; thoſe merchants, who thought our trade would be doubled in the ſubſequent year, were miſtaken in their ſpeculations. So that the ſtamp act was not to be repealed unleſs this ſpeculation of theirs was a probable event. But it was not repealed in order to double our trade in that year, as every body knows (whatever ſome merchants might have ſaid), but leſt in that year we ſhould have no trade at all. The fact is, that, during the greateſt part of the year 1765, that is, until about the month of October, when the accounts of the diſturbances came thick upon us, the American trade went on as uſual. Before this time, the ſtamp act could not affect it. Afterwards, the merchants fell into a great conſternation; a general ſtagnation in trade enſued. But as ſoon as it was known that the miniſtry favoured the repeal of the ſtamp act, ſeveral of the bolder merchants ventured to execute their orders; others more timid hung back; in this manner the trade continued in a ſtate of dreadful fluctuation between the fears of thoſe who had ventured, for the event of their boldneſs, and the anxiety of thoſe whoſe trade was ſuſpended, until the royal aſſent was finally given to the bill of repeal. That the trade of 1766 was not equal to that of 1765, could not be owing to the repeal; it aroſe from quite different cauſes, of which the author ſeems not to be aware: 1ſt, Our conqueſts during the war had laid open the trade of the French and Spaniſh Weſt Indies to our colonies much more largely than they had ever enjoyed it; this continued for ſome time after the peace; but at length it was extremely contracted, and in ſome places reduced to nothing. Such in particular was the ſtate of Jamaica. On the taking the Havannah all the ſtores of that iſland were emptied into that place, which produced unuſual orders for goods, for ſupplying their own conſumption, as well as for further ſpeculations of trade. Theſe ceaſing, the trade ſtood on its own bottom. This is one cauſe of the diminiſhed exports to Jamaica; and not the childiſh idea of the author, of an impoſſible contraband from the opening of the ports. 2d, The war had brought a great influx of caſh into America, for the pay and proviſion of the troops; and this an unnatural encreaſe of trade; which, as its cauſe failed, muſt in ſome degree return to its ancient and natural bounds. 3d, When the merchants met from all parts, and compared their accounts, they were alarmed at the immenſity of the debt due to them from America. They found that the Americans had over traded their abilities. And, as they found too that ſeveral of them were capable of making the ſtate of political events an excuſe for their failure in commercial punctuality, many of our merchants in ſome degree contracted their trade from that moment. However, it is idle, in ſuch an immenſe maſs of trade, ſo liable to fluctuation, to infer any thing from ſuch a deficiency as one or even as two hundred thouſand pounds. In 1767, when the diſturbances ſubſided, this deficiency was made up again.

g
The diſturbances have been in Boſton only; and were not in conſequence of the late duties.
h
P. 24.
i

‘"They are happy in having found, in your zeal for the dignity of this nation, the means of liquidating their claims, and of concluding with the court of France a convention for the final ſatisfaction of their demands; and have given us commiſſion, in their names, and on their behalf, moſt earneſtly to intreat your acceptance of their grateful acknowledgments.—Whether they conſider themſelves as Britons, or as men more particularly profiting by your generous and ſpirited interpoſition; they ſee great reaſons to be thankful, for having been ſupported by a miniſter, in whoſe public affections, in whoſe wiſdom and activity, both the national honour, and the intereſt of individuals, have been at once ſo well ſupported and ſecured."’ Thanks of the Canada merchants to general Conway, London, April 28, 1776.

k
See the convention itſelf, printed by Owen and Harriſon, Warwick-lane, 1766; particularly the articles two and thirteen.
l
P. 23.
m
P. 46.
n
P. 46.
*
His note, p. 22.
a
Mem. de Sully, vol. I. p. 133.
b

‘"Uxor Hugonis de Nevill dat Domino Regi ducentas Gallinas, eo quod poſſit jacere una nocte cum Domino ſuo Hugone de Nevill." Maddox, Hiſt. Exch. c. xiii. p. 326.

c
Sentiments of an honeſt Man.
d
See the Political Writings of the late Dr. Brown, and many others.
a
Charles Wolfran Cornwall, Eſq lately appointed one of the Lords of the Treaſury.
b
Lord North, then chancellor of the Exchequer.
c
Lord Hilſborough's circular letter to the governors of the colonies concerning the repeal of ſome of the duties laid in the act of 1767.
d

A material point is omitted by Mr. Burke in this ſpeech, viz. the manner in which the continent received this royal aſſurance. The aſſembly of Virginia, in their addreſs in anſwer to lord Botetourt's ſpeech, expreſs themſelves thus: ‘"We will not ſuffer our preſent hopes, ariſing from the pleaſing proſpect your lordſhip hath ſo kindly opened and diſplayed to us, to be daſhed by the bitter reflection that any future adminiſtration will entertain a wiſh to depart from that plan, which affords the ſureſt and moſt permanent foundation of public tranquillity and happineſs: no, my lord, we are ſure our moſt gracious ſovereign, under whatever changes may happen in his confidential ſervants, will remain immutable in the ways of truth and juſtice, and that he is incapable of deceiving his faithful ſubjects; and we eſteem your lordſhip's information not only as warranted, but even ſanctified by the royal word."’

e
Lord North.
f
Mr. Dowdeſwell.
g
General Conway.
f
General Conway.
i
General Conway.
i
General Conway.
k
General Conway.
k
Suppoſed to allude to the right hon. lord North, and George Cooke, eſquire; who were made joint paymaſters in the Summer of 1766, on the removal of the Rockingham adminiſtration.
l
Reſolutions moved in May 1770.
m
Mr. Fuller.
n
Lord Carmarthen.
o
Lord North.
o
Lord North.
p
Mr. Dowdeſwell.
a
Mr. Brickdale opened his poll, it ſeems, with a tally of thoſe very kind of freemen, and voted many hundreds of them.
a

‘"The act to reſtrain the trade and commerce of the provinces of Maſſachuſet's Bay and New Hampſhire, and colonies of Connecticut and Rhode Iſland, and Providence Plantation, in North America, to Great Britain, Ireland, and the Britiſh Iſlands in the Weſt Indies; and to prohibit ſuch provinces and colonies from carrying on any fiſhery on the banks of Newfoundland, and other places therein mentioned, under certain conditions and limitations."’

b
Mr Roſe Fuller.
c

‘"That when the governor, council, or aſſembly, or general court, of any of his majeſty's provinces or colonies in America, ſhall propoſe to make proviſion, according to the condition, circumſtances, and ſituation, of ſuch province or colony, for contributing their proportion to the common defence (ſuch proportion to be raiſed under the authority of the general court, or general aſſembly, of ſuch province or colony, and diſpoſable by parliament) and ſhall engage to make proviſion alſo for the ſupport of the civil government, and the adminiſtration of juſtice, in ſuch province or colony, it will be proper, if ſuch propoſal ſhall be approved by his majeſty, and the two houſes of parliament, and for ſo long as ſuch proviſion ſhall be made accordingly, to forbear, in reſpect of ſuch province or colony, to levy any duty, tax, or aſſeſſment, or to impoſe any farther duty, tax, or aſſeſſment, except ſuch duties as it may be expedient to continue to levy or impoſe, for the regulation of commerce; the nett produce of the duties laſt mentioned to be carried to the account of ſuch province or colony reſpectively."’ Reſolution moved by lord North in the committee; and agreed to by the houſe, 27 Feb. 1775.

d
Mr. Glover.
c
The Attorney General.
f
Mr. Rice.
g
Lord North.
h
Journals of the houſe, Vol. XXV.
i
Journals of the houſe, Vol. XXVII.
k
Ibid.
l
The ſolicitor-general informed Mr. B. when the reſolutions were ſeparately moved, that the grievance of the judges partaking of the profits of the ſeizure had been redreſſed by office; accordingly the reſolution was amended.
m
Lord North.
n

The firſt four motions and the laſt had the previous queſtion put on them. The others were negatived.

The words in Italics were, by an amendment that was carried, left out of the motion; which will appear in the journals, though it is not the practice to inſert ſuch amendments in the votes.

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