.V '^. ,#' -.^^. ^' V K*^ '"-^ .0- J A>' ■^.. A^ ^>' %.^^^ f A^' ^, ^^^'^ '^. .^''^ s- .<<' <^<^ o'^' ^^-' '^^ . vV 0. "-> 4 -^^v .s^^. " . -r- .0^^ nS « V ' « xO°<. ^^. ,.^''' >^ -^ '/*. ^^ V :^^y'Z % \>^ .'?-' .^" ^^^^ . 1^ I ^.^^ > ^ ^ * « ^ .)> -n^. ■"-^r ;^^. o5 '^> '^,# -^^ •%-. ,•0' •^<. xO<^^. O^ -n^. "^A *:> . ^^ '^<'<^'^" •X^^' % %- V' ,0o \ J- **• ■^i^. .^v^"^ \'';% ,*-^ •'•t rO .^> ^^ v^ X^'^'. SELECT ilTISH ELOQUENCE: EMBRACING THE BEST SPEECHES ENTIRE, OF THE MOST EMINENT OEATORS OF GREAT BRITAIN fn tljt Inst ttna €m\\\xm ; VITH SKETCHES OF THEIR LIVES, AN ESTIMATE OF THEIR GENIUS, AND NOTES, CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY. BY CHAUNCEY A. GOODRICH, D.D., PROFESSOR IN YALE COLLEGE. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 329 & 331 PEARL STREET, FRANKLIN SQUARE. MDCCCLIL .G4 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-two, by Chauncey a. Goodrich, in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the District of Connecticut PREFACE, Mr. Hume has somewhere remarked, that " he who would teach eloquence must do it chiefly by examples.'''' The author of this volume was forcibly struck with this remark in early life ; and in entering on the office of Pro- fessor of Rhetoric in Yale College, more than thirty years ago, besides the ordinary instructions in that department, he took Demosthenes' Oration for the Crown as a text-book in the Senior Class, making it the basis of a course of informal lectures on the principles of oratory. Modern eloquence came next, and he endeavored, in a distinct course, to show the leading character- istics of the great orators of our own language, and the best mode of study- ing them to advantage. His object in both courses was, not only to awaken in the minds of the class that love of genuine eloquence which is the surest pledge of success, but to aid them in catching the spirit of the authors read, and, by analyzing passages selected for the purpose, to initiate the pupil in those higher principles which (whether they were conscious of it or not) have always guided the great masters of the art, till he should learn the un- written rules of oratory, which operate by a kind of instinct upon the mind, and are far more important than any that are found in the books. Such is the origin of this volume, which contains the matter of the second course of lectures mentioned above, cast into another form, in connection with the speeches of the great British orators of the first and second class. A distinct volume would be necessary for American eloquence, if the lectures on that subject should ever be published. The speeches selected are those which, by the general suffrage of the En- glish public, are regarded as the master-pieces of their respective authors. They are in almost every instance given entire^ because the object is to have each of them studied as a complete system of thought. Detached passages of extraordinary force and beauty may be useful as exercises in elocution ; but, if dwelt upon exclusively as models of style, they are sure to vitiate the taste. It is like taking all one's nutriment from highly-seasoned food and stimulating drinks. As to the orators chosen, Chatham, Burke, Fox, and Pitt stand, by uni- versal consent, at the head of our eloquence, and to these Erskine may be added as the greatest of our forensic orators. Every thing, however imper- fect, from a man like Chatham is of interest to the student in oratory, and therefore all his speeches are here inserted, including eight never before pub- lished in this country. All of Burke's speeches which he prepared for the press have also found a place, except that on Economical Reform, which, relating to mere matters of English finance, has less interest for an American. In room of this, the reader will find the most striking passages in his works on the French Revolution, so that this volume contains nearly every thing which most persons can have any desire to study in the pages of Mr. Burke. Six of Fox's great speeches are next given, and three of Pitt's, with copious extracts from the early efforts of the latter ; together with nine of Erskine's ablest arguments, being those on which his reputation mainly rests. Among the orators of the second class, the reader will find in this volume four speeches of Lord Mansfield ; two of Mr. Grattan's, with his invectives against Flood and Corry ; Mr. Sheridan's celebrated speech against Hast- ir PREFACE. ings ; three of Mr. Curran's ; Sir James Mackintosh s famous speech, for Peltier ; four of Mr. Canning's ; and five of Lord Brougham's, including his instructive discourse on the study of eloquence in the Grreek orators. Some of the most finished letters of Junius are given in their proper place, with re- marks on his style as an admirable model of condensation, elegance, and force. In the first fifty pages will be found nearly all the celebrated speeches before the days of Lord Chatham, from Sir Robert Walpole, Lord Chester- field, Mr. Pulteney, Lord Belhaven, Sir John Digby, the Earl of Straf- ford, and Sir John Eliot. The selections in this volume extend throuo-h a period of two hundred years, and embrace a very large proportion of the most powerful eloquence of Great Britain. The following are the aids afforded for the study of these speeches : (1.) A memoir of each orator, designed to show his early training in elo- quence, the leading events of his public life, the peculiar cast of his genius, and the distinctive characteristics of his oratory. It ought to be said, in justice to the author, that these sketches were completed in every essential particular, long before the publication of Lord Brougham's work upon Brit- ish Statesmen. (2.) A historical introduction to each of the speeches, explaining minutely the circumstances of the case, the state of parties, and the exact point at issue, being intended to place the reader in the midst of the scene as an actual spec- tator of the contest. These introductions, with the memoirs just mentioned, form a slight but continuous thread of political history, embracing the most important topics discussed in the British Parliament for more than a centLiry. (3.) An analysis of the longer speeches in side-notes, giving the divisions and subdivisions of thought, and thus enabling the reader to perceive at once the connection and bearing of the several parts. (4.) A large body of explanatory notes, bringing out minuter facts or re- lations of the parties, without a knowledge of which many passages lose all their force and application. (5.) Critical notes, as specimens of the kind of analysis which the author has been accustomed to apply to the several parts of an oration, and which every student in oratory should be continually making out for himself. (6.) Translations of the passages quoted from the ancient and foreign lan- guages, with the poetry rendered into English verse. The passages are usu- ally traced to their sources, and the train of thought given as it appears in the original, without a knowledge of which most quotations have but little force or beauty. For the same reason, the classical and other allusions are traced out and explained. (7.) A concluding statement of the way in which the question was de- cided, with occasional remarks upon its merits, or the results produced by the decision. Great compression has been used in preparing this volume, that all who are interested in the study of eloquence may be able to possess it. Each page contains the matter of three ordinary octavo pages in Pica type ; and the whole work has in it one sixth more than Chapman's Select Speeches, or Willison's American Eloquence, in five octavo volumes each. In conclusion, the author may be permitted to say, that while he has aimed to produce a volume worthy of lying at all times on the table of ev- ery one engaged in speaking or writing for the public, he has hoped it might prove peculiarly useful to men of his own profession ; since nothing is more desirable, at the present day, than a larger infusion into our sacred eloquence of the freedom, boldness, and strength which distinguish our secular oratory. Sept. \st, 1852. ^'JJ CONTENTS. "J SIR JOHN ELIOT Page 1 His early life, 1 ; elected to the House at the opening of the contest with Charles I., ih.; imprisoned by the King, ih. ; again elected while in jail, ih. ; Petition of Right, 2; Charles tries to evade it, ih. ; Eliot's speech, ib°; characteristics of his eloquence, ih. ; imprisoned, dies the first martyr to liberty, 6. Speech on the Petition of Right 3 EARL OF STRAFFORD 7 His birth and education, 7 ; early traits, ib. ; ill-treated by Buckingham, ib. ; assumes the character of a patriot, ih. ; defends the Petition of Right, 8 ; bought off by the court, ib. ; becomes favorite of Charles I., ih. ; his ex- actions and cruelties, ih. ; impeached by the Commons, 9 ; description of the trial, ib. Speech when Impeached of High Treason 11 LORD DIGBY 15 His early life, 15 ; enters the House as an opponent of the government, ib. ; employed against Buckingham, ib. ; appointed one of the managers for tlie impeachment of Strafford, ib. ; changes sides and comes out against the bill of attainder, ih. ; his eloquence characterized, ib. Speech against the Attainder of Strafford 16 LORD BELHAVEN 19 His extraction and character, 19 ; evils resulting from a union of the crowns of Scotland and England, and their separation in all other respects, ib. ; jealousy of the En- glish as to the trade of Scotland, ib. ; retaliatory meas- ures of the Scotch, ib. ; plan of a Legislative Union, 20 ; violent hostility against it in Scotland, ib. ; circumstan- ces of Lord Belhaven's speech against it, ih. Speech against the Legislative Union of England and Scotland 21 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE 27 His birth and eai'ly education, 27 ; enters Parliament as a Whig, ih. ; early traits of character, ih. ; made Prime Minister, ib. ; his extreme jealousy of all who might be- come his competitors, 28 ; character of the Opposition and of Bolingbroke as its leader, ih. ; Walpole's system of corruption, ib. ; falsely accused as to most of his leading measures, ib.; errors of his ministry, 29; char- acter of his eloquence and that of his contemporaries, 29, 30. Speech on the Septennial Act 31 Speech on Addressing the King for his Removal 35 MR. PULTENEY 43 His early life and study of oratory, 43 ; gradual develop- ment of his powers, ib. ; becomes one of the ablest of English debaters, ib. ; breaks down the power of Wal- pole, ib. ; fails to succeed him, ib. ; created Earl of Bath, ih. ; his general unpopularity, ih. ; his death, ib. Speech on Reducing the Army 43 LORD CHESTERFIELD 45 His birth, 45 ; early love of polite literature, ih. ; elegance of his manners, ih. ; his acuteness and wit as a public speaker, ib. ; his various public employments, ib. ; re- tires from office and devotes himself to literature, ib. ; his unhappiness in old age, ib. ; his death, ib. Speech against Licensing Gin-Shops 46 LORD CHATHAM 52 His birth and early sufferings from the gout, 52 ; his ed- ? ucation at Eaton, ih. : his conversational powers, ib. ; removes to Oxford, ib. ; his studies in rhetoric, ih. ; goes twice through the English dictionary to gain a command of language, ib. ; obtains a commission in the army, 53 ; joins the Opposition, ib. ; enters Parliament, ib. ; his maiden speech, 54 ; its effect on the King and Walpole, ih. ; deprived of his commission, ib. ; becomes leader of the Opposition, 54-5 ; comparison between him and Lord Mansfield, 55 ; gains a complete ascend- ancy in the House, 56 ; unites with Mr. Pelham, and is made Paymaster of the Forces, ib. ; exhibition of dis- interestedness, 56-7 ; on the death of Pelham comes out against Newcastle, his successor, 58 ; attack on Mans- field, " Felix trembles," ib. ; attack on Fox, " conflux of the Rhone and Soane," 59 ; drives Mansfield out of the House, ih. ; is made Pi-ime Minister on Newcastle's res- ignation, 60 ; dismissed soon after, and all England in commotion, ib. ; restored, his influence over all con- nected with him in government, ih. ; power of his elo- quence, " Is there an A ustrian among you ?" " Ut videre virum," 61 ; Opposition extinguished, 62 ; triumphs of his policy and arms in all quarters of the globe, ib. ; France sues for peace, 63 ; Spain joins her, ib. ; he pro- poses war against her, but overruled by Lord Bute, ib. ; resigns, ib. ; makes his " Sitting Speech" against Lord Bute's peace, 64 ; attack on Mr. Grenville, " Gentle Shep- hei'd," 65 ; opposes the King respecting John Wilkes and American taxation, ih. ; contemptuous retort on Justice Moreton, 66 ; withholds his support from the Rocking- ham administration, ib. ; forms his third ministry, and is raised into the House of Lords, 67 ; his loss of health and inability to administer the government, 68 ; resigns and retires, ib. ; comes out at the end of three years against the Grafton ministry, 69 ; it falls before him, ib. ; support of America, 70 ; declines in health, ih. ; his death, 71 ; characteristics of his eloquence, 71-5. Speech on a Motion for an Address on the Marriage of the Prince of Wales Page 76 Speech on the Spanish Convention 77 Speech on the Impressment of Seamen 80 Speech in reply to Horatio Walpole 81 Speech in favor of Inquiring into the conduct of Sir Robert Walpole 82 Second Speech in favor of Inquiring into the conduct of Sir Robert Walpole 89 Speech on taking the Hanoverian Troops into the pay of Great Britain 93 Speech on a Motion for an Address of Thanks after the Battle of Dettingen 95 Speech on the Right of Taxing America 103 Speech in Reply to Lord Mansfield in Relation to the Case of John Wilkes 108 Speech on a Motion to Inquire into the State of the Na- tion 114 Speech in Relation to the Seizure of the Falkland Islands by Spain 118 Speech against the Quartering of British Soldiers on the Inhabitants of Boston 126 Speech in favor of an immediate Removal of the British Troops from Boston 128 Speech on a Motion for an Address to put a stop to Hos- tilities in America 132 Speech on a Motion for an Address to the Throne at the Opening of Parliament, November 18th, 1777 134 Speech against a Motion for adjourning Parliament, De- cember nth, 1777 139 Last Speech upon America, with the circumstances of his Death 141 LORD MANSFIELD 143 His birth, 143 ; descendedfi'om the Stormont family, which adhered to the Stuarts, ih. ; sent early to the Westmin- ster school, ib.; his great proficiency, ib. ; removed to Oxford, ib. ; his studies in rhetoric, ib. ; commences the study of the law, ib. ; laborious training in extempora- neous speaking, ib. ; historical studies, 144 ; practice in elocution, ih. ; a favorite of Pope, ib. ; extent of his business as a lawyer, ih. ; made Solicitor General, ib. ; comparison between him and the elder Pitt, ib. ; made Attorney General, 145; appointed Chief Justice with title of Lord Mansfield, ib. ; speech at taking leave of his associates at Lincoln's Inn, 14.'5-6; his qualifications as Chief Justice, 146 ; testi2iiony of Ju>tice Story, ib. ; his poUtical course in the House of Lords, 147; resigns VI CONTEJNITS. as Chief Justice at the age of eighty-three, ib. ; his death, ib. ; personal appearance and characteristics of his elo- quence, ib. Speech on the right of Taxing America Page 148 Remarks on the foregoing speech with the American ar- gument (by the editor) 152 Speech when surrounded by a Mob in the Court of King's Bench 154 Speech in the case of Allan Evans, Esq 155 Speech on a Bill depriving Peers of certain Privi- leges 160 JUNIUS 163 His Letters have taken a permanent place in our elo- quence, 163 ; the rhetorical skill which they manifest, ib. ; the result of severe and protracted effort, i6. ; labor bestowed on the selection and arrangement of his ideas, ib.; logical cast of his mind, 163-4 ; peculiar benefits to the young orator from the study of his style, 164 ; his extniordiuary powers of condensation, iZ*.,- of insinu- ating ideas without expressing them in form, 164-5 ; reasons why indirect attack by insinuation is so pecul- iarly painful to cultivated minds, 165 ; Junius' means of secret information, ib. ; characteristics of his style, 166- 7 ; the perfection of his imagery, 167 ; who was Juni- us ? 168-9 ; his political relations, 170 ; had previously written under other signatures, ib. ; reasons for his now coming out with increased strength and boldness, ib.; impression made by his first letter, 171 ; attacked by Sir William Draper, and thus made an object of pub- he attention, ib. ; his triumph over Sir William, 171-2; the power he gained as a writer, ib. ; his efforts second- ed by Lord Chatham, ib. ; the King predicts that Junius will cease writing, ib. ; he discontinues his Letters at he end of thi-ee years, and Sir Philip Francis is sent to India, ib. Letter to the Printer of the Public Advertiser 173 Letter to Sir William Draper 178 Letter to Sir William Draper 180. Letter to the Duke of Grafton 181 Letter to the Duke of Grafton 185*^ Letter to the Duke of Bedford 188 RE3IARKS on the Character of the Duke of Bedford (by the Editor) 192 Letter to the King 193 Letter to the Duke of Grafton 200 Remarks on the character of the Duke of Grafton (by the Editor) 204 Estimate of Junius by Mr. Burke and Dr. Johnson. 204 EDMUND BURKE 206 His birth and delicate constitution, 206 ; educated at a Quaker school in Ballitore, ib. ; early training, ib. ; re- moved to Trinity College, Dublin, ib. ; account of his studies, 207 ; early philosophical spirit, ib. ; leaves col^. lege and studies law in London, ib. ; his sevei-e mentin labor, 208 ; applies unsuccessfully for a professorship in Glasgow, ib. ; publishes his Vindication of Natural So- ciety, ib. ; publishes his Essay on the Sublime and Beau- tiful, 209 ; his society courted by the most distinguished literary men, ib. ; his conversational powers, 210 ; com- mences the Annual Register, ib. ; goes to Ireland as sec- retary to Single Speech Hamilton, 211 ; comes into Par- liament as a supporter of Lord Rockingham, 212; his maiden speech, highly praised by Lord Chatham, ib. ; goes out with Lord Rockingham, and becomes leader of the Whigs in the House, 213; Speech on American Taxation, its powerful impression, 214 ; elected mem- ber for Bristol, 215 ; circumstances leading to his speech on conciliation with America, ib.; comparison betweenrf this and his speech on American Taxation, 215-16 / speech on Economical Reform, " King's turnspit f member of Parhament," 216; speech at Bristol previ- ous to the election, 216-17 ; declines the polls, and re- turned for Malton, 217 ; speech against the continuance of the American war, " shearing the wolf," 217-218 ; after the fall of Lord North, comes in with Lord Rock- ingham us Paymaster of the Forces, 218 ; carries his measures for economical reform, 219 ; originates the East India P.ill of Mr. Fox, ib.; his intimate acquaint- ance with India and its concerns, 220; his speech on Fox's East India Bill, 221 ; speech on the Nabob of Ar- cot's debts, ib. ; procures the impeachment of Warren Hastings, 221-22 ; draws up the articles of impeach- ment, 223 ; delivers the opening speech against Hast- ings, ib. ; delivers his closing speech at the end of nearly seven years, 224 ; reasons for the acquittal of Hastings, 225; King becomes deranged, 226 ; his ground respect- ing a Regency, ib. ; his unpojjularity and abusive treat- ment in the house, ib. ; his early jealousy of the French Revolution, 227 ; reasons, 227-28 ; his first collision with Mr. Fox on the subject, 229 ; his breach with Mr. Sheridan, 230 ; writes his Reflections on the Revolu- tion in France, 231 ; characteristics of the work, ib. ; its errors, ib. ; its excellences, 231-32; his separation from Mr. Fox, 232-33 ; loss of his son, 234-35 ; pension granted him, 235 ; his Letter to a Noble Lord on the subject of his pension, ib. ; his Letters on a Regicide Peace, ib. ; errors of Mr. Burke respecting the war witl^ France. 235-36 ; decline of his health, 237 ; his death, * ib. ; characteristics of his genius and eloquence, 237-4C Speech on American Taxation Page 241 _ Speech on Conciliation with America ■96a>iii^ Speech previous to the Bristol Election 292 Speech on dechning the Election at Bristol 310 Speech on the East India Bill of Mr. Fox 311 Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts 329 Peroration of Speech against Warren Hastings . . . 362 Extracts from works on the French Revolution... 363 Miscellaneous 376 Mr. Burke on the Death of his son 378 Character of Sir Joshua Reynolds 378 Detached Sentiments and M^vxims 379 HENRY GRATTAN 382 His birth and education in Dublin, 382 ; study of the law in London, ib. ; study of Lord Chatham as an orator, ib. ; settlement in Dublin as an advocate, ib. ; election to the Irish Parliament, ib. ; moves a Declaration of Irish right, 383 ; unsuccessful, ib. ; moves it again at the end of two years, 384 ; prevails, ib. ; opposed by Mr. Flood, ib. ; invective against him, ib. ; opposed to the Union, ib. ; chosen to the Imperial Parliament, ib. ; de- voted to the cause of Emancipation, ib. ; his death, ib.; personal qualities and character as an orator, 335. Speech on moving a Declaration of Irish Right 386 Speech on making a second motion for a Declaration of Irish Right 391 Invective against Mr. Flood 394 Invective against Mr. Corry 396 Character of Lord Chatham 398 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 399 His parentage and connection with the stage, 399 ; early ' dramatic productions, ib. ; purchase of Drury Lane Theater, ib. ; election to Parliament, ib. ; made Under Secretary of State, 400 ; keen retort on Pitt, ib. /speech against Hastings in the House, ib. ; speech before the House of Lords under the impeachment, 401 ; Lord Byron's lines thereon, ib. ; indolence and effrontery as a speaker, 402 ; his wit and humoi", ib. ; habits of intem- perance, 403 ; unhappy death, ib. ; personal appearance and character as an orator, ib. Speech against Warren Hastings when impeached be- fore the House of Lords 405 CHARLES JAMES FOX 437 His birth and early genius, 437 ; indulgence of his iather, ib. ; produces habits of dissipation, 438 ; eminence in classical literature, ib. ; distinction at Eaton and Oxford, ib. ; early extravagance, 439 ; enters Parliament, ib. ; first a Tory and in ofiice under Lord North, 440 ; turn- ed out abruptly, ib. ; joins the Whigs as a pupil of '^ Burke, 441 ; his labors to form himself as a debater, 443 ; becomes head of the Whig party, ib. ; is made Sec- retary of State under Lord ilockingham, 444 ; disap- pointed in not becoming Prime IMinister on the death of Rockingham, ib. ; forms his Coalition with Lord North, 445 ; drives out the ministry and becomes Sec- retary of State, ib. ; his East India Bill, 446 ; speech in support of it, 447 ; carried in the House, ib. ; defeated in the Lords, ib. ; his speech against secret influence, 448 ; displaced and Mr. Pitt made Prime Minister, ib. ; unsuccessful cftbrts to drive Pitt from power, lb. ; West- minster election, 449 ; Mr. Fox's speech on the subject, 450 ; decision of the House in his favor, ib. ; derange- ment of the King, ib. ; Mr. Fox asserts the right of the Prince of Wales to the Regency, 451 ; King recovers, 452 ; Mr. Fox's speech against Mr. Pitt for arming against Russia, 453 ; his Libel bill, ib. ; his views of the French Revolution, 4.54 ; his speech on Mr. Pitt's rejection of Bonaparte's overtures for peace, 458 ; comes in under Lord Grenville as Secretary of Foreign Affairs, 459 ; his death, personal appearance, 460 ; characteristics of his oratory, ib. Speech on the East India Bill 462 Speech on Secret Influence 474 Speech on the Westminster Scrutiny 481 Speech on the Russian Armament 500 -/ Speech on Parliamentary Reform 515 * Speech on the Rejection of Bonaparte's Overtures for Peace 528 CONTENTS. l: WILLIAM PITT Page 551 His early ill health and inability to attend a public school, 551 ; his remarkable prortciency at home, ib. ; goes to Cambridge at fourteen, ib. ; his ambition from boyhood to be an orator, ib. ; his training with that view at col- lege, 552 ; his mode of studying the classics, ib. ; his em- inence in the mathematics, ib. ; his severe discipline in logic, 553 ; in mental science and political economy, ib. ; his early social habits, 554 ; comparison between him and Lord Chatham, 555 ; his call to the bar, ib. ; his election to Parliament, 556 ; remarkable success ot his maiden speech, ib. ; joins the Whigs, ib. ; his sarcasm on Lords North and Germaine, 557 ; comes in with Lord Shelburne as Chancellor of the Exchequer at the age of twenty-thi-ee, ib. ; his brilliant speech against Mr. Fox and the Coalitionists, 558 ; his felicitous quotation from Horace, 561 ; is driven out with Lord Shelburne by the Coalition, ib. ; attacks Mr. Fox's East India Bill, 562; made Prime Minister at twenty-four, 563; Mr. Fox''s efforts to drive him out, ib. ; his energetic resist- ance, 564 ; extraordinary scene in the House, 565 ; his keen rebuke of General Conway, ib. ; his ultimate tri- umph, 568 ; his East India Bill, ib. ; motion for reform in Parliament, 569 ; plan of paying the public debt, 570 ; his admirable speech against the Slave Trade, ib. ; war with France, 571 ; eloquent speech when his proposals of peace were rejected by the French, 575 ; speech of great compass and power when he refused to treat with Bonaparte, 576 ; resigns at the end of seventeen years, ib. ; returns to powei*, 577 ; his death, ib. ; per- sonal appearance and characteristics of his eloquence, 577-8. Speech on the Abolition of the Slave Trade 579 Speech on the Rupture of Negotiations with France. 593 Speech on Refusing to Negotiate with Bonaparte . . 604 LORD ERSKINE 629 His birth at Edinburgh, 629 ; early education at Edin- burgh and St. Andrews, ib. ; his remarkable versatility of mind and liveliness of feeling, ib. ; goes to sea at fourteen as a midshipman, ib. ; enters the army as an ensign at eighteen, 630 ; marries at twenty, ib. ; his studies in Enghsh literature, ib. ; determines to study law, 631 ; his call to the bar, ib. ; his first retainer and remarkable success, ib. ; his instantaneous overflow of business, 632 ; case of Lord George Gordon, ib. ; enters Parliament and supports Fox, ib. ; goes out with the Coalition ministry, 633 ; State Trials, ib. ; made Lord Chancellor under the Grenville ministry, 634 ; his re- tirement and death, ib. ; personal appearance and char- acter of his eloquence, 635-6. Speech in behalf of Lord George Gordon 637 Speech on the Rights of Juries 655 Speech in behalf of Stockdale 683 Speech in behalf of Frost 698 Speech in behalf of Bingham 708 Speech in behalf of Hardy 713 Speech against Williams for the publication of Paine's Age of Reason 761 Speech in behalf of Hadfield 766 Speech in behalf of Markham 778 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN 785 His birth and parentage, 785 ; the family, though in low circumstances, remarkable for intellectual vigor, ib. ; his early love of sport and wild adventure, ib. ; is sent to- school and to the university by a clergyman of the neighborhood, ib. ; distinguished for his classical attain- ments and love of metaphysical inquiry, 786 ; studies law in London, ib. ; his unwearied efforts to remove his defects and gain fluency as a public speaker, ib. ; settles in Dublin and rises to early distinction, ib. ; forms the Society of the Monks of the Screw, ib. ; his celebra- ted address to Lord Avonmore respecting that Society, 787 ; enters the Irish House of Commons, ib. ; his bold» ness and eloquence during the State Trials, 787-8; Robert Emmett and Sarah Curran, 788 ; is appointed Master of the Rofls, ib. ; his misfortunes and decline of health, 788-9 ; resigns his office, 789 ; his death, ib. ; his characteristic excellences and faults as an or- ator, ib. Speech in behalf of Rowan 790 Speech in behalf of Finnerty 805 Speech against the Marquess of Headfort 814 SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH Page 821 His birth near Inverness, Scotland, 821 ; precocity and early love of reading, ib. ; distinction at school, ib. ; per- suades his school-fellows to practice extemporaneous speaking, ib. ; goes to the university, ib. ; early attach- ment tometaphysical inquiries, ib. ; intimacy and union of studies with Robert Hall, 821-22 ; studies medicine at Edinburgh, 822 ; removes to London, and supports him- self by writing for the periodical press, ib. ; publislies his Vindicias Galliciai in answer to Burke on the French Revolution, ib. ; studies law, and is called to the bar, 823 ; delivers his lectures on the Law of Nature and Na- tions, ib. ; beautiful character of Grotius in his Intro- ductory Lecture, 823-24 ; success as an advocate, 824 ; his speech in defense of Peltier when prosecuted for a hbel on Bonaparte, ib. ; encomiums of Lord Erskine and Robert Hall on this speech, 825 ; is appointed Recorder of Bombay, and raised to the honors of knighthood, ib. ; spends eight years in India, and returns with a broken constitution, ib. ; enters Parliament, ib. ; becomes Pro- fessor of Law and General Politics in Haileybury Col- lege, 826 ; his literary labors, ib. ; his character as a par- liamentary orator, ib. ; his death, ib. Speech in behalf of Peltier 827 Chaeacteb of Charles J. Fox 850 GEORGE CANNING 851 His birth in London, 851 ; descended from an Irish fam- ily of distinction, ib. ; premature death of his father, ib. ; dependent condition of his mother, who goes on to the stage for her support, ib. ; his early proficiency at school, ib. ; his love of English literature, ib. ; is removed to Eton, ib. ; induces his companions to establish a paper called the Microcosm, ib. ; takes the lead in a debating society, 852 ; leaves Eton with its highest honors, and enters the University of Oxford, ib. ; when freshman, gains the Chancellor's prize for Latin composition, ib. ; high standing at Oxford, ib. ; influence of competition, ib. ; leaves the university and commences the study of the law, ib. ; is invited by Mr. Pitt to become his polit- ical adherent, ib. ; elected to Parliament, ib. ; his early character as a speaker, 853 ; unites in establishing the Anti-Jacobin Review, ib. ; author of the most striking poetical effusions in the work, ib. ; the Needy Knife- grinder, 853-4 ; made Under Secretary of State, and aft- erward Treasurer of the Navy by Mr. Pitt, 854 ; becomes Secretary of Foreign Affairs under the Duke of Port- land, ib. ; fights a duel with Lord Castlereagh, and goes out of office, ib. ; is chosen member of Parliament for Liverpool, 855 ; goes as embassador extraordinary to Lisbon, ib. ; appointed Governor General of India, ib. ; is appointed Secretary of Foreign Affairs, ib. ; his strong stand against the invasion of Spain by France, ib. ; his celebrated speech on giving aid to Portugal when in- vaded from Spain, 856 ; is made Prime Minister, ib. ; his health soon after fails him, ib. ; his death, ib. ; sketch of his character by Sir James Mackintosh, 856-8. Speech on the Fall of Bonaparte 859 Speech on Radical Reform 865 Speech delivered at Plymouth 873 Speech on Affording Aid to Portugal 875 Extracts 883 LORD BROUGHAM 886 Descended from one of the most ancient families of West- / moreland, England, 886 ; born at Edinburgh, ib. ; edu- - cated at the High School under Dr. Adam, ib. ; rapidity of his mind from early life, ib. ; enters the University of Edinburgh, ib. ; distinguished for his mathematical attainments, ib. ; early election to the Royal Society of Edinburgh, ib. ; studies law, ib. ; his training in extem- poraneous debate, ib. ; publishes his work on Colonial Policy, ib. ; removes to London and commences the practice of the law, 887 ; is a regular contributor to the Edinburgh Review, ib.; becomes a member of Parlia- ment, ib. ; subjects of his published speeches, ib. ; char- acter of his oratory, 888 ; comparison between him and Mr. Canning, ib. ; his attack upon Canning in 1823, when the latter gave him the lie, 889, 890. Speech on the Army Estimates 891 Speech in behalf of Wilhams 896 Speech on the Invasion of Spain by France 904 Speech on Parliamentary Reform 914 Inaugural Discourse, when inducted aa Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow 937 SELECT BRITISH ELOQUENCE. SIR JOHN ELIOT. J OHN Eliot was descended from a family of great respectability in Cornwall, and was born on the 20th of April, 1590. After enjoying the best advantages for educa- tion which England could afford, and spending some years in foreign travel, he was elected to Parliament at the age of thirty-three, and became one of the most prom- inent members in the House of Commons under Charles I. The House embraced at this time, some of the ablest and most learned men of the age, such as Sir Edward Coke, John Hampden, Selden, St. John, Pym, &c. Among these, Sir John Eliot stood pre-eminent for the force and fervor of his eloquence. The general style of speaking at that day was weighty, grave, and sententious, but tinctured with the pedantry of the preceding reign, and destitute of that warmth of feeling which is essential to the character of a great orator. Eliot, "Wentworth, and a few others were exceptions ; and Eliot especially spoke at times with all the en- thusiasm and vehemence of the early days of Greece and Rome. Hence he was appointed one of the managers of the House when the Duke of Buckingham was impeached in 1626, and had the part assigned him of making the closing argument against the Duke before the House of Lords. This he did with such energy and effect as to awaken the keenest resentment of the Court ; so that two days after he was called out of the House, as if to receive a message from the King, and was instantly seized and hurried off by water to the Tower. The Commons, on hearing of this breach of privilege, were thrown into violent commotion. The cry " Rise I" " Rise I" was heard from every part of the hall. They did immediately adjourn, and met again only to record their resolution, *' Not to do any more busi- ness until they were righted in their privileges." This decisive measure brought the government to a stand, and reduced them to the humiliating necessity of releasing Sir John Eliot, and also Sir Dudley Diggs, another of the managers who had been arrested on the same occasion. Eliot and his companion returned in triumph to the House, which voted that " they had not exceeded the commission intrusted to them." In consequence of this defeat, and the backwardness of the Commons to grant the supplies demanded, Charles soon after dissolved Parliament, and determined to raise money by "forced loans." Great numbers resisted this imposition, and among them Eliot and Hampden, who, with seventy-six others of the gentry, were thrown J^\mio prison for refusing to surrender their property to the Crown ; while hundreds of ' ' 'inferior rank were impressed into the army or navy by way of punishment. The King found, however, that with all this violence he could not raise the necessary sup- plies, and was compelled to call another Parliament within eight months. Eliot, Hampden, and many others who had been lying under arrest, were elected members of the new House of Commons while thus confined in prison, and were released only a few days before the meeting of Parliament. A 2 SIR JOHN ELIOT These violent invasions of the rights of property and person, naturally came up for consideration at an early period of the session. The Commons, as the result of their discussions, framed, on the 27th of May, 1628, that second Great Charter of the liberties of England, the Petition of Right ; so called because drawn up, in the humble spirit of the day, in the form of a petition to the King, but having, when ratified by his concurrence, all the authority of a fundamental law of the kingdom. This document was prepared by Sir Edward Coke at the age of eighty-three, and was one of the last public acts of that distinguished lawyer. It provided, that no loan or tax might be levied but by consent of Parliament ; that no man might be imprisoned but by legal process ; that soldiers might not be quartered on people con- trary to their wills ; and that no commissions be granted for executing martial law. On the 2d of June, Charles returned, an evasive answer, in which he endeavored to satisfy the Commons without giving a legal and binding assent to the petition. The next day. Sir John Eliot made the following speech. It breathes throughout, that spirit of affection and reverence for the King's person which was still felt by both houses of Parliament. It does not dwell, therefore, on those recent acts of arbitrary power in which the King might be supposed to have reluctantly concurred ; and the fact is a striking one, that Eliot does not even allude to his late cruel imprisonment, a decisive proof that he was not actuated by a spirit of personal resentment. The entire speech was directed against the royal Favorite, the Duke of Buckingham. Its object was, to expose his flagrant misconduct during the preceding ten years, under the reign of James as well as Charles ; and to show that through his duplicity, in- competency, and rash counsels, the honor of the kingdom had been betrayed, its allies sacrificed, its treasures wasted, and those necessities of the King created which gave rise to the arbitrary acts referred to in the Petition of Right. The facts which Eliot ^Ldduces in proof, are very briefly mentioned, or barely alluded to, because they were fresh in the minds of all, and had created a burning sense of wrong and dishonor throughout the whole kingdom. They will be explained in brief notes appended to the speech ; but, to feel their full force, the reader must go back to the history of the times, .and place himself in the midst of the scene. There is in this speech, a union of dignity and fervor which is highly character- istic of the man. " His mind," says Lord Nugent, " was deeply imbued with a love of philosophy and a confidence in religion which gave a lofty tone to his eloquence." His fervor, acting on a clear and powerful understanding, gives him a simplicity, directness, and continuity of thought, a rapidity of progress, and a vehemence of ap- peal, which will remind the reader of the style of Demosthenes. His whole soul is occupied with the subject. He seizes upon the strong points of his case with such absorbing interest, that all those secondary and collateral trains of thought with which a speaker like Burke, amplifies and adorns the discussion, are rejected as un- worthy of the stern severity of the occasion. The eloquence lies wholly in the thought ; and the entire bareness of the expression, the absence of all ornament, adds to the effect, because there is nothing interposed to break the force of the blow. The antique air of the style heightens the interest of the speech ; and will recommend it particularly to those who have learned to relish the varied construc- tion and racy English of our early writers. SPEECH OF SIR JOHN ELIOT ON THE PETITION OF RIGHT, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, JUNE 3, 1628. Mr. Speaker, — We sit here as the great Council of the King, and in that capacity, it is our duty to take into consideration the state and affairs of the kingdom, and when there is occa- sion, to give a true representation of them by way of counsel and advice, with what we con- ceive necessary or expedient to be done. In this consideration, I confess many a sad thought hath affrighted me, and that not only in respect of our dangers from abroad (which yet I know are great, as they have been often prest and dilated to us), but in respect of our disor- ders here at home, which do enforce those dan- gers, and by which they are occasioned. For I believe I shall make it clear to you, that both at first, the cause of these dangers were our disor- ders, and our disoi'ders now are yet our greatest dangers — that not so much the potency of our enemies as the weakness of ourselves, doth threat- en us : so that the saying of one of the Fathers may be assumed by us, "now tarn potentia sua quam oicgligentia nostra,''^ " not so much by their ; power as by our neglect." Our want of true ' devotion to heaven — our insincerity and doub- ling in religion — our want of councils — our pre- cipitate actions — the insufficiency or unfailhful- i ness of our genei-als abroad — the ignorance or f corruption of our ministers at home — the impov- erishing of the sovereign — the oppression and depression of the subject — the exhausting of our treasures — the waste of our provisions — con- sumption of our ships — destruction of our men — these make the advantage to our enemies, not the reputation of their arms ; and if in these there be not reformation, we need no foes abroad : Time itself will ruin us. To show this more fully, I believe you will all hold it necessary that what I say, should not seem an aspersion on the state or imputation on the government, as I have known such motions misinterpreted. But far is this from me to pro- pose, who have none but clear thoughts of the excellency of the King; nor can I have other ends but the advancement of his Majesty's glory. I shall desire a little of your patience extraordi- nary, as I lay open the particulars, which I shall do with what brevity I may, answerable to the importance of the cause and the necessity now upon us ; yet with such respect and observation to the time, as I hope it shall not be thought troublesome. I. For the first, then, our insincerity and doub- ling in religion, is the greatest and most danger- ous disorder of all others. This hath never been « unpunished ; and of this we have many strong examples of all states and in all times to awe us. What testimony doth it want? Will you have authority of books? Look on the collections of the Committee for Religion ; there is too clear an evidence. See there the commission procured for composition with the papists of the North ! Mark the proceedings thereupon, and you will find them to little less amounting than a tolera- tion in effect : the slight payments, and the easi- ness of them, will likewise show the favor that is intended. Will you have proofs of men ? Wit- ness the hopes, witness the presumptions, wit- ness the reports of all the papists generally. Ob- serve the dispositions of commanders, the trust of officers, the confidence in secretaries to em- ployments in this kingdom, in Ireland, and else- where. These will all show that it hath too great a certainty. And to this add but the incontrovertible evidence of that All-powerful Hand, which we have felt so sorely, that gave it full assurance 5 for as the heavens oppose themselves to our impiety, so it is we that first opposed the heavens.^ II. For the second, our want of councils, that great disorder in a state under which there can not be stability. If effects may show their causes (as they are often a perfect demonstration of them), our misfortunes, our disasters, serve to prove our deficiencies in council, and the coase- quences they draw with them. If reason be al- lowed in this dark age, the judgment of depend- encies and foresight of contingencies in affairs, do confirm my position. For, if we view our- selves at home, are we in strength, are we in reputation, equal to our ancestors ? If we view ourselves abroad, are our friends as many ? are our enemies no more ? Do our friends retain their safety and possessions ? Do not our ene- mies enlarge themselves, and gain from them and us ? To what council owe we the loss of the Palatinate, where we sacrificed both our hon- or and our men sent thither, stopping those great- er powers appointed for the service, by which it might have been defended ?^ What council gave 1 The gun-powder plot for blowing up both hous- es of Parliament, and extirpating the Protestant re- ligion at a single stroke, was still fresh in the minds of all. It is not, therefore, surprising, at a period when correct views of religious liberty were as yet unknown in England, tliat any remissness in ex- ecuting the laws against Catholics, was regarded with great jealousy by Eliot and his friends, espe- cially as the mother of Buckingham was of that com- munion. 2 Frederick V., the Elector Palatine, who married "the beautiful Elizabeth," sister of Charles I., had been attacked on religious grounds by a union of Catholic states in Germany, with Austria at their head, stripped of the Palatinate, and driven as an exile into Holland, with his wife and child. AF SIR JOHN ELIOT ON THE fli direction to the late action, whose wounds are yet bleeding, I mean the expedition to Rhe, of which there is yet so sad a memory in all men ? What design for us, or advantage to our state, could that impart ? You know the wisdom of your ancestors, and the practice of their times, how they preserved their safeties. We all know, and have as much cause to doubt [i. e., distrust or guard against] as they had, the greatness and ambition of that kingdom, which the Old World could not satisfy.^ Against this greatness and ambition, we like- wise know the proceedings of that princess, that never-to-be-forgotten, excellent Queen Eliza- beth, whose name, without admiration, falls not into mention even with her enemies. You know how she advanced herself, and how she advanced the nation in glory and in state ; how she de- pressed her enemies, and how she upheld her friends ; how she enjoyed a full security, and made those our scoi-n w^ho now are made our terror. Some of the principles she built on were these ; and if I mistake, let reason and our statesmen contradict me. First, to maintain, in what she might, a uni- ty in France, that the kingdom, being at peace within itself, might be a bulwark to keep back the power of Spain by land. Next, to preserve an amity and league be- tween that state and us, that so we might come in aid of the Low Countries [Holland], and by that means receive their ships, and help them by sea. This triple cord, so w^orking between France, the States [Holland], and England, might enable us, as occasion should require, to give assistance unto others. And by this means, as the experi- ence of that time doth tell us, w^e w^ere not only free from those feai-s that now possess and trouble us, but then our names were fearful to our ene- mies. See now what correspondency our action had with this. Try our conduct by these rules. It did induce, as a necessary consequence, a di- vision in France between the Protestants and their king, of which there is too woful and lam- Protestant Christendom was indignant at these wrongs; and the King of England was expected to sustain the injured Elector on the double ground of family alliance and a community of religion. These expectations had all been disappointed by the weak, indecisive, and fluctuating counsels of Buckingham. Twelve thousand English troops were indeed sent to assist Frederick, under Count Mansfeldt, but near- ly all of them perished on the way, from mere want of foresight and preparation on the part of the En- glish government. This wanton sacrifice of life is alluded to at the close of the speech in a single word — "Mansfeldt!" — a name which at that time smote on the heart of the whole English nation. The ex- pedition to the Isle of Rhe, mentioned in the next sentence, will be explained hereafter. ^ To understand the force and beauty of this allu- sion to Spain, we must go back to the time when all Europe was filled with dismay at the power of the Spanish arms on both continents. Few things in English eloquence, as Forster remarks, are finer in expression or purpose, than this allusion and the subsequent train of thought, as addressed to English- men of that day. entable experience.* It hath made an ab.so, breach between that state and us, and so en.' tains us against France, and France in prep;^ tion against us, that we have nothing to pror to our neighbors, nay, hardly to ourselves. N observe the time in which it was attempted, you shall find it not only varying from those p ciples, but directly contrary and opposite to tl ends ; and such, as from the issue and succ rather might be thought a conception of S| than begotten here with us. [Here there was an interruption made by Humphrey May, Chancellor of the Duchy of the Privy Council, expressing a dislike ; but ■ House ordered Sir John Eliot to go on, wh< upon he proceeded thus :] Mr. Speaker, I am sorry for this interrupt but much more sorry if there hath been occa: on my part. And. as I shall submit myself w ly to your judgment, to receive what censure may give me, if I have offended, so, in the inl rity of my intentions and the clearness of thoughts, I must still retain this confidence, , no greatness shall deter me from the duties I to the service of my king and country ; but t with a true English hearty I shall discharge self as faithfully and as really, to the extent my poor power, as any man whose honors or w offices most strictly oblige Aim. You know the dangers of Denmark,^ and 1 miich they concern us ; what in respect of alliance and the country; w^hat in the imp ance of the Sound ; what an advantage to enemies the gain thereof would be ! What ] what prejudice to us by this disunion; we bn ing in upon France, France enraged by us, . the Netherlands at amazement between bo Neither could we intend to aid that luckless 1 [Christian IV., of Denmark], whose loss is disaster. Can those [the King's ministers] that exp their trouble at the hearing of these things, have so often told us in this place of their kn* edge in the conjunctures and disjunctures o; fairs — can they say they advised in this ? ' this an act of council, Mr. Speaker ? I have n * This refers to the expedition against the Is' Rhe, respecting which see note 8. 5 Christian IV., King of Denmark, as a lea Protestant piince, and uncle to Elizabeth, wif Frederick, the Elector Palatine, had entered w; ly into their cause, and marched with a large a to reinstate them in the Palatinate. After s partial successes, however, he was repulsed bj Austrians, driven back into his own dominions, reduced to imminent danger of being stripped c his possessions. The English trade through Sound into the Baltic, which was of great value, thus on the point of being entirely cut off by the tablishment of a hostile power on the ruins of I mark. Yet England had done nothing to sustain ally, or to protect her rights and interests in quarter; and the English people were justly censed against Buckingham for this neglect. ^ Here, as above, allusion is made to the disgr ful expedition against the Isle of Rhe, by wl France was enraged, and no diversion in favo Denmark either made or intended. 1628.] PETITION OF RIGHT. '^. charity than to think it ; and unless they make -y confession of it themselves, I can not believe it. ' III. For the next, the insufficiency and un- faithfulness of our generals (that great disorder abroad), what shall I say? I wish there were not cause to mention it ; and, but for the appre- hension of the danger that is to come, if the like choice hereafter be not prevented, I could will- ingly be silent. But my duty to my sovereign, ray service to this Hou.se, and the safety and hon- or of my country, are above all respects ; and what so nearly trenches to the prejudice of these, must not, shall not be forborne. At Cadiz,'' then, in that first expedition we made, when we arrived and found a conquest ready — the Spanish ships, I mean, fit for the sat- isfaction of a voyage, and of which some of the chiefest then there, themselves have since as- sured me, that the satisfaction would have been sufficient, either in point of honor or in point of profit — why was it neglected ? Why w^as it not achieved, it being granted on all hands how feas- ible it was ? Afterward, when, with the destruction of some of our men and the exposure of others, who (though their fortune since has not been such), by chance, came off" safe — when, I say, with the loss of our serviceable men, that unserviceable fort was gained, and the whole army landed, why was there nothing done ? Why was there noth- ing attempted ? If nothing was intended, where- fore did they land ? If there was a service, where- fore were they shipped again ? Mr. Speaker, it satisfies me too much [i. c, I am over-satisfied] in this case — when I think of their dry and hun- gry march into that drunken quarter (for so the soldiers termed it), which was the period [term- ination] of their journe}" — that divers of our men being left as a sacrifice to the enemy, that labor was at an end. For the next undertaking, at Rhe,^ I will not 7 Buckingham, at the close of 1625, had fitted out a fleet of eighty sail, to intercept the Spanish treas- ure ships from America, to scour the coasts of Spain, and destroy the shipping in her ports. Owing to the utter incompetency of the commander, there was no concert or subordination in the fleet. The treasure- ships were not intercepted ; but seven other large and rich Spanish ships, which would have repaid all the expenses of tlie expedition, were suffered to es- cape, when they might easily have been taken. At length a landing was eff'ected in the neighborhood of Cadiz, and the paltry fort of Puntal was taken. The English soldiers broke open the wine-cellars of the country around, and became drunk and un- manageable ; so that the Spanish troops, if they had known their condition, might easily have cut the whole army to pieces. Their commander, as the only course left him, retreated to the ships, leaving some hundreds of his men to perish under the knives of the enraged peasantry. 8 Buckingham, from motives of personal resent- ment against the French king, undertook, in June, 1627, to aid the Huguenots at Rochelle, who were in a state of open rebellion. He therefore sailed with a fleet of one hundred ships and seven thou- sand land forces, taking the command of the expe- dition himself, and expecting to be received with trouble you much ; only this, in short. Was not that whole action carried against the judgment and opinion of those officers that were of the council ? Was not the first, was not the last, was not all in the landing — in the intrenching — in the continuance there — in the assault — in the retreat — without their assent ? Did any advice take place of such as were of the council ? If there should be made a particular inquisition thereof, these things will be manifest and more. I will not instance the manifesto that was made, giving the reason of these arms : nor by whom, nor in what manner, nor on what grounds it was published, nor what effects it hath wrought, drawing, as it were, almost the whole world into league against us. Nor will I mention the leaving of the wines, the leaving of the salt, which were in our possession, and of a value, as it is said, to answer much of our expense. Nor will I dwell on that great wonder (which no Al- exander or Caesar^ ever did), the enriching of the enemy by courtesies when our soldiers wanted help ; nor the private intercourse and parleys with the fort, which were continually held. What they intended may be read in the success ; and upon due examination thereof, they would not want their proofs. For the last voyage to Rochelle, there need no observations, it is so fresh in memory ; nor will I make an inference or corollary on all. Your own knowledge shall judge what truth or what sufficiency they express. IV. For the next, the ignorance and corrup- tion of our ministers, where can you miss of in- stances ? If you survey the court, if you survey the country ; if the church, if the city be exam- open arms. But the Rochellers, having no previ- ous arrangement with him on the subject, and prob- ably distrusting his intentions, refused to admit him into the town, and advised him to take possession of the Isle of Rhe, in the neighborhood. This he did, and immediately issued a manifesto, inciting the Protestants throughout France to rebel against their govennnent. Great indignation was awakened in Europe by this attempt to rekindle the flames of civil war in that country. His appeal was, unfor- tunately, successful. The Protestants in the south of France rose almost to a man. A bloody conflict ensued, in which they were completely crushed, and their condition rendered far more wretched than be- fore. Buckingham, in tlie mean time, conducted ev- ery thing wildly and at random. In October, a re- enforcement of fifteen hundred men was sent out, mentioned in the speech as " the last voyage to Ro- chelle ;" but the Duke was still repulsed, with loss at every point, till he was compelled to return in disgrace, with the loss of one third of his troops, in the month of November, 1627. This speech was de- livered in June of the next year, while the nation was still smarting under the sense of the disasters and disgraces of this mad expedition. 9 This sneer at the generalship of Buckingham was keenly felt, and derived its peculiar force from the lofty pretensions and high-sounding titles he as- sumed. He had also made himself I'idiculous, and even suspected of treachery, by his alfectation of courtesy in the interchange of civilities with the French connnanders. To this Eliot alludes with stinging effect in the remaining part of the sentence. 6 SIR JOHN ELIOT, ETC. [1628. ined ; if you observe the bar, if the bench, if the ports, if the shipping, if the land, if the seas — all these will render you variety of proofs ; and that in such measure and proportion as shows the greatness of our disease to be such that, if there be not some speedy application for remedy, our case is almost desperate. V. Mr. Speaker, I fear I have been too long in these particulars that are past, and am unwilling to offend you : therefore in the rest I shall be shorter ; and as to that which concerns the im- poverishing of the King, no other arguments will I use than such as all men grant. r The exchequer, you know, is empty, and the reputation thereof gone ; the ancient lands are sold ; the jewels pawned ; the plate engaged ;^° the debts still great ; almost all charges, both or- dinary and extraordinary, borne up by projects ! What poverty can be greater ? What necessity so great ? What perfect English heart is not almost dissolved into sorrow for this truth ? VI. For the oppression of the subject, which, as I remember, is the next particular I proposed, it needs no demonstration. The whole kingdom is a proof; and for the exhausting of our treas- ures, that very oppression speaks it. What waste of our provisions, what consumption of our ships, what destruction of our men there hath been ; witness that expedition to Algiers^' — witness that with Mansfeldt — witness that to Cadiz — witness the next — witness that to Rhe — witness the last (I pray God we may never have more such witnesses) — witness, likewise, the Palati- nate — witness Denmark — witness the Turks — witness the Dunkirkers — witness all ! What losses we have sustained ! How we are im- paired in munitions, in ships, in men ! It is beyond contradiction that we were nev- er so much weakened, nor ever had less hope how to be restored. These, Mr. Speaker, are our dangers, these are they who do threaten us ; and these are, like the Trojan horse, brought in cunningly to sur- prise us. In these do lurk the strongest of our enemies, ready to issue on us ; and if we do not speedily expel them, these are the signs, these the invitations to others ! These will so prepare their entrance, that we shall have no means left of refuge or defense ; for if we have these ene- mies at home, how can we strive with those that are abroad ? If we be free from these, no oth- er can impeach us. Our ancient English virtue (like the old Spai-tan valor), cleared from these disorders — our being in sincerity of religion and once made friends with heaven ; having matu- rity of councils, sufficiency of generals, incor- ruption of officers, opulency in the King, liberty in the people, repletion in treasure, plenty of pro- visions, reparation of ships, preservation of men — our ancient English virtue, I say, thus rectified, will secure us ; and unless there be a speedy re- formation in these, I know not what hopes or ex- pectations we can have. These are the things, sir, I shall desire to have taken into consideration ; that as we are the great council of the kingdom, and have the apprehension of these dangers, we may truly represent them unto the King ; which I conceive we are bound to do by a triple obligation — of duty to God, of duty to his Majest}^, and of duty to our country. And therefore I wish it may so stand with the wisdom and judgment of the House, that these things may be drawn into the body of a Reimon- STRANCE, and in all humility expressed, with a prayer to his Majesty that, for the safety of him- self, for the safety of the kingdom, and for the safety of religion, he will be pleased to give us time to make perfect inquisition thereof, or to take them into his own wisdom, and there give them such timely reformation as' the necessity and justice of the case doth import. And thus, sir, with a large affection and loy- alty to his Majesty, and with a firm duty and service to my country, I have suddenly (and it may be with some disorder) expressed the weak apprehensions I have ; wherein if I have erred, I humbly crave your pardon, and so submit my- self to the censure of the House. 10 Buckingham had taken the crown jewels and plate to Holland, and pawned them for X300,000. ^^ Buckingham, some years before, had sent out an expedition for the capture of Algiers. It result- ed in a total failure, and so incensed the Algerines, that the commerce of England suffered ten-fold loss in consequence ; thirty-five ships, engaged in the Mediterranean trade, having been captured within a few months, and their crews sold for slaves. The King, finding, after the delivery of this speech, that he could no longer resist the de- mands of the Commons, gave his public assent to the Petition of Right, on the 7th of June, 1628. But he never forgave Sir John Eliot for his free- dom of speech. At the expiration of nine months he dissolved Parliament, determining to rule from that time without their aid or interference ; and, two days after, committed Sir John Eliot and other members to the Tower for words spoken during the sitting of Parliament. In this flagrant breach of privilege, and violation of the Petition of Right, he was sustained by servile courts ; and Eliot, as "the greatest offender and ringleader,'' was sentenced to pay a fine of cf£2000, and be imprisoned in the Tower of London. After two years his health gave way under the rigor of his confinement. He then petitioned the King for a temporary release, that he might re- cover strength ; but this was denied him, unless he made the most humbling concessions. He re- fused, and sunk, at last, iinder the weight of his sufferings, at the end of three years, in Novem- ber, 1632, "the most illustrious confessor in the cause of liberty," says Hallam, "whom the times produced." One of his sons petitioned for liber- ty to remove his body to Cornwall for burial in his native soil, and received for answer these in- sulting words, wTitten at the bottom of his peti- tion : " Let him be buried in the parish where he died ;" that is, in the Tower^ the place of his imprisonment. No wonder that such a spirit brouirht Charles to the block ! THE EARL OF STRAFFORD. Thomas Wentworth, first Earl of Strafford, was descended from an ancient fam- ily in Yorkshire, and was born at the house of his maternal grandfather, in London, on the 13th of April, 1593. At St. John's College, Cambridge, where he received his education, he was distinguished not only for the strength and versatility of his genius, but for his unwearied efforts to improve his mind by the severest discipline, and especially to prepare himself for the duties of public life, as an orator and a statesman. The leading features of his character were strongly marked. He had an ardor of temperament, a fixedness of will, a native impetuosity of feeling, and a correspondent energy of action, which united to make him one of the most daring and determined men of the age. To those who rendered him the deference he ex- pected, who were ready to co-operate in his plans or become subservient to his pur- poses, he was kind and liberal. But he was quick and resentful when his will was crossed ; and even Clarendon admits that " he manifested a nature excessively imperious." He was trained from childhood, to a belief in those extravagant doctrines respect- ing the royal prerogative, which were so generally prevalent at that day. It was therefore natural that Wentworth, in entering on public life, should seek employ- ment at Court. The King seems, from the first, to have regarded him with favor ; but Buckingham, who was then in power, was secretly jealous and hostile. Hence he was treated at times with great confidence, and raised to important offices, and again stripped suddenly of his employments, and subjected to the most mortifying rebuffs. Under these circumstances, he came out for a time as a " patriot," and joined the popular party. That he did so, however, only in opposition to Bucking- ham, as the most effectual means of putting down a rival — that there was no change in his principles, no real sympathy between him and the illustrious men who were resisting the tyranny of Charles, is obvious from his subsequent conduct, and from the whole tenor of his private correspondence, as afterward given to the world. ^ But such was the strength of his passions, and the force of imagination (so characteristic of the highest class of orators) with which he could lay hold of, and for the time being, appropriate to himself, all the principles and feelings which be- came his new character, that he appeared to the world, and perhaps even to him- self, to have become a genuine convert to the cause of popular liberty. In the Par- liament of 1627-8, during the great discussion on the public grievances, he came forth in all his strength, " amid the delighted cheers of the House, and with a start- ling effect on the Court." After entering upon the subject with a calm and solemn tone befitting the greatness of the occasion, he rose in power as he advanced, until, when he came to speak of forced loans, and the billeting of soldiers upon families, he broke forth suddenly, with that kind of dramatic effect which he always studied, in a rapid and keen invective, which may be quoted as a specimen of his early elo- quence. " They have rent from us the light of our eyes ! enforced companies of guests, worse than the ordinances of France ! vitiated our wives and children be- fore our eyes ! brought the Crown to greater want than ever it was in, by anticipa- 1 This is shown at large by Mr. Forster in his Life of Strafford, which forms part of Larduer's Cabinet Cyclopedia. 8 THE EARL OF STRAFFORD. ting the revenue I and can the shepherd be thus smitten, and the sheep not scat- tered ? They have introduced a Privy Council, ravishing at once the spheres of all ancient government I imprisoning without bail or bond ! They have taken from us — what shall I sayv? Indeed, what have they left us ? They have taken from us all means of supplying the King, and ingratiating ourselves with him, by tearing up the roots of all property ; which if they be not seasonably set again into the ground by his Majesty's hand, we shall have, instead of beauty, baldness I" He next, in the boldest language, proposes his remedy. " By one and the same thing hath the King and the people been hurt, and by the same must they be cured : to vindicate — What ? New things ? No ! Our ancient, lawful, and vital liber- ties, by re-enforcing the ancient laws, made by our ancestors ; by setting such a stamp upon them, that no licentious spirit shall dare hereafter to enter upon them. And shall we think this a way to break a Parliament ?^ No ! our desires are mod- est and just. I speak truly for the interests of the King and the people. If we en- joy not these, it will be impossible to relieve him." " Let no man," said he, in con- clusion, "judge this way 'a break-neck' of Parliaments ; but a way of honor to the King, nay, of profit ; for, besides the supply we shall readily give him, suitable to his occasions, we give him our hearts — our hearts, Mr. Speaker ; a gift that God calls for, and Jit for a King.'" In the same spirit, he united with Eliot in urging forward the Petition of Right ; and when the Lords proposed an additional clause, that it was designed " to leave entire that sovereigii poicer with which his Majesty is intrusted," he resisted its insertion, declaring, " If we admit of the addition, we leave the subject worse than we found him. These laws are not acquainted with ' Sovereign Power I' " The Court were now thoroughly alarmed. But they knew the man. There is evidence from his own papers, that within ten days from this time, he was in nego- tiation with the speaker. Finch ; and " almost before the burning words which have just been transcribed, had cooled from off the lips of the speaker, a transfer of his services to the Court was decided on." In a few days Parliament was prorogued ; and shortly after. Sir Thomas Wentworth was created Baron Wentworth, and ap- pointed a member of that same Privy Council which he had just before denounced, as " ravishing at once the spheres of all ancient government !" The death of Buck- ingham about a month after, placed him, in effect, at the head of affairs. He was made a Viscount, and Lord President of the North ; and at a subsequent period. Lord Deputy, and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and Earl of Strafford. The twelve years that followed, during which Charles undertook to reign with- out the aid of Parliaments, were filled up with arbitrary exactions, destructive mo- nopolies, illegal imprisonments, and inhuman corporal punishments, which Strafford was known to have recommended or approved ; while his presidency in the North was marked by numerous acts of high-handed injustice, and his government of Ire- land carried on with such violence and oppression as " gave men warning," in the words of Clarendon, " how they trusted themselves in the territories where he com- manded." In 1640 Charles was compelled by his necessities to convene another Parliament. The day of retribution had at length arrived. The voice of three kingdoms called for vengeance on the author of their calamities ; and not a man was found, except Charles and Laud, to justify or excuse his conduct. Even Digby, who sought only to save his life, speaks of Strafford, as " a name of hatred in the present age by his practices, and fit to be made a name of terror to future ages by his punishment." At the moment when, governed by his accustomed policy, he was preparing to 2 Alluding to the threats of the Parliament being dissolved for their freedom of speech. THE EARL OF STRAFFORD. ^ 9 strike the first blow, and to impeach the leaders of the popular party, as the surest means to avert the coming storm, he was himself impeached by the House of Com- mons, stripped of all his dignities, and thrown into the Tower. The 22d of March, 1641, was fixed upon for his trial. The great object of his accusers was to estab- lish against him the charge of " attempting to subvert the fundamental laws of the realm." In doing so, they brought forward many oHenses of inferior magnitude, as an index of his intentions ; and they never pretended that more than two or three of the articles contained charges which amounted strictly to high treason. In conducting the impeachment, they had great difficulties to encounter. They could find precedents in abundance to justify the doctrine of constructive treason. Still, it was a doctrine which came with an ill grace from the friends of civil liber- ty ; and it gave wide scope to the eloquence of Strafford, in some of the most pow- erful and touching appeals of his masterly defense. In addition to this, the time had not yet arrived when treason against the state, as distinguished from an assault upon the life or personal authority of the king, was distinctly recognized in England. Strafford had undoubtedly, as a sworn counselor of Charles, given him unconstitu- tional advice ; had told him that he was absolved from the established rules of gov- ernment ; that he might use his simple prerogative for the purpose of raising money, above or against the decisions of Parliament. Such an attempt to subvert the. fun- damental laws of the kingdom, if connected with any overt act, would now be trea- son. But the doctrine was a new one. The idea of considering the sovereign as only the representative of the state ; of treating an encroachment on the established rights of the people as a crime of equal magnitude with a violation of the King's person and authority, had not yet become familiar to the English mind. We owe it to the men who commenced this impeachment ; and it is not wonderful that Strafford, with his views, and those of most men at that day, could declare with perfect sincerity that he was utterly unconscious of the crime of treason. The trial lasted from the 22d of March to the 13th of April, 1641, during which time the Earl appeared daily before the court, clothed in black, and wearing no badge or ornament but his George. " The stern and simple character of his feat- ures accorded with the occasion ; his countenance ' manly black,' as Whitlocke de- scribes it, and his thick hair cut short from his ample forehead." He was tall in person, but through early disease had contracted a stoop of the shoulders, which would have detracted from his appearance on any other occasion ; but being now ascribed to intense sufTering from the stone and the gout, which he was known to have endured during the progress of the trial, it operated in his favor, and excited much sympathy in his behalf. During eighteen days he thus stood alone against his numerous accusers, answering in succession the twenty-eight articles of the im- peachment, which of themselves filled two hundred sheets of paper, examining the witnesses, commenting on their evidence, explaining, defending, palliating his con- duct on every point with an adroitness and force, a dignity and self-possession, which awakened the admiration even of his enemies. On the last day of the trial, he summed up his various defenses in a speech of which the report given below is only an imperfect outline. It enables us, however, to form some conception of the eloquence and pathos of this extraordinary man. There is in it a union of dignity, simplicity, and force — a felicity in the selection of topics — a dexterity of appeal to the interests and feelings of his judges — a justness and elevation in every sentiment he utters — a vividness of illustration, a freshness of imagery, an elasticity and airi- ness of diction — an appearance of perfect sincerity, and a pervading depth of passion breaking forth at times in passages of startling power or tenderness, which belongs only to the highest class of oratory. The pathos of the conclusion has been much admired ; and if we go back in imagination to the scene as presented in Westmin- lO THE EARL OF STRAFFORD. ster Hall — the once proud Earl standing amid the wreck of his fortunes, with that splendid court around him which so lately bowed submissive to his will ; with his humbled monarch looking on from behind the screen that concealed his pei:son, un- able to interpose or arrest the proceedings ; with that burst of tenderness at the thought of earlier days and of his wife, the Lady Arabella Hollis, " that saint in heaven," to whose memory he had always clung amid the power and splendor of later life ; with his body bowed down under the pressure of intense physical suffer- ing, and his strong spirit utterly subdued and poured out like water in that start- ling cry, " My Lords, my Lords, my Lords, something more I had intended to say, but my voice and my spirit fail me" — we can not but feel that there are few pas- sages of equal tenderness and power in the whole range of English eloquence. We are strongly reminded of Shakspeare's delineation of Wolsey under similar circum- stances, in some of the most pathetic scenes which poetry has ever depicted. We feel that Strafford, too, with his " heart new opened," might have added his testi- mony to the folly of ambition, and the bitter fruits of seeking the favor of a king, at the expense of the people's rights, and the claims of justice and truth. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition ! By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then, The image of his Maker hope to win by't ? Love thyself last ! Cherish those hearts that hate thee ! Corruption wins not more than honesty ! Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues ! Be just and fear not ! Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's. Thy God's, and Truth's ! Then if thou fallest, Cromwell, Thou fallest a blessed martyr." SPEECH OF THE EARL OF STRAFFORD WHEN IMPEACHED FOR HIGH TREASON BEFORE THE HOUSE OF LORDS, APRIL 13, 1641.1 My Lords, — This day I stand before you charged with high treason. The burden of the charge is heavy, yet far the more so because it hath borrowed the authority of the House of Commons. If they were not interested, I might expect a no less easy, than I do a safe, issue. But let neither my weakness plead my inno- ^ cence, nor their power my guilt. If your Lord- ships will conceive of my defenses, as they are in themselves, without reference to either party — and I shall endeavor so to present them — I hope to go hence as clearly jvTstified by j-ou, as I now am in the testimony of a good conscience by myself. My Lords, I have all along, during this charge, >C watched to see that poisoned arrow of Treason, which some men would fain have feathered in my heart ; but, in truth, it hath not been my quickness to discover any such evil yet within my breast, though now, perhaps, by sinister in- formation, sticking to my clothes. They tell me of a two-fold treason, one against the statute, another by the common law ; this direct, that consecutive ; this individual, that ac- cumulative ; this in itself, that by way of con- struction. As to this charge of treason, I must and do acknowledge, that if I had the least suspicion of my own guilt, I would save your Lordships the pains. I would cast the first .stone. I would pass the first sentence of condemnation against myself. And whether it be so or not, I now re- fer to your Lordships' judgment and deliberation. You, and you only, under the care and protec- tion of my gracious master, are my judges. Un- der favor, none of the Commons are my peers, nor can they be my judges. I shall ever cele- brate the providence and wisdom of your noble ancestors, who have put the keys of life and death, so far as concerns you and your posterity, into your own hands. None hut your own selves, my Lords, know the rate of your noble blood : none but yourselves must hold the balance in dis- posing of the same? 1 There are in the Parliamentary History two re- ports of this speech, one by Whitlocke, and the other by some unknown friend of Strafford. As each has important passages which are not contain- ed in the other, they are here combined by a slight modification of language, in order to give more com- pleteness to this masterly defense. 2 Strafford had no chance of acquittal except by inducing the Lords, from a regard to their dignity and safety, to rise above the influence of the Com- mons as his prosecutors, and of the populace who surrounded Westminster Hall by thousands, de- manding his condemnation. In this view, his exor- I shall now proceed in repeating my defenses as they are reducible to the two main points of treason. And, I. For treason against the statute, which is the only treason in effect, there is nothing al- leged for that but the fifteenth, twenty-second, and twenty-seventh articles. [Here the Earl brought forward the replies which he had previously made to these articles, which contp,ined all the charges of individual acts of treason; The fifteenth article affirmed that he had "inverted the ordinary course of justice in Ireland, 's^and given immediate sentence upon the lands aAd goods of the King's subjects, un- der pretense of disobedience; had used a mili- tary way for redressing the contempt, and laid soldiers upon the lands and goods of the King's subjects, to their utter ruin." There was a de- ficiency of proofs as to the facts alleged. The Earl declared that "the customs of England dif- fered exceedingly from those of Ireland ; and therefore, though cessing of men might seem strange here, it was not so there ;" and that " nothing was more common there than for the governors to appoint soldiers to put all manner of sentences into execution," as he proved by the testimony of Lord Dillon, Sir Adam Loftus, and Sir Arthur Teringham. The twenty-seventh article charged him with having, as lieutenant general, charged on the county of York eight pence a day for supporting the train-bands of said county during one month, when called out ; and having issued his warrants without legal authority for the collection of the same. The Earl replied that " this money was freely and voluntarily offered by them of York- shire, in a petition ; and that he had done nothing but on the petition of the county, the King's spe- cial command, and the connivance, at least, of the Great Council, and upon a present necessity for the defense and safety of the county, when about to be invaded from Scotland." The twenty-second and twenty-third articles were the most pressing. Under these he was charged with saying in the Privy Council that " the Pai-liament had forsaken the King ; that the King ought not to suffer himself to be over- mastered by the stubbornness of the people ; and that, if his Majesty pleased to employ forces, he had some in Ireland that miffht serve to reduce dium has admirable dexterity and force. He re- verts to the same topic in his peroration, assuring them, with the deepest earnestness and solemnity (and, as the event showed, with perfect truth), that if they gave him up, they must expect to perish with him in the general ruin of the peerage. 12 THE EARL OF STRAFFORD [1641. this kingdom," thus counseling to his Majesty to put down Parliament, and subvert the funda- mental laws of the kingdom by force and arms. To this the Earl replied, (1.) That there was only one witness adduced to prove these words, viz.. Sir Henry Vane, secretaxy of the Council, but that two or more witnesses are necessary by statute to prove a charge of treason. (2.) That the others w^ho were present, viz., the Duke of Northumberland, the Marquess of Hamilton, Lord Cottington, and Sir Thomas Lucas, did not, as they deposed under oath, remember these words. (3.) That Sir Henry Vane had given his testimony as if he was in doubt on the sub- ject, saying " as I do remember," and " such or such like \vords," which admitted the words might be '■'■that kingdom," meaning Scotland.] n. As to the other kind, viz., constructive treason, or treason by way of accumulation ; to make this out, many articles have been brought against me, as if in a heap of mere felonies or misdemeanors (for they reach no higher) there could lurk some prolific seed to produce what is treasonable ! But, my Lords, when a thousand misdemeanors will not make one felony, shall twenty-eight misdemeanors be heightened into treason ? I pass, how^ever, to consider these charges, which affirm that I have designed the overthrow both of religion and of the state. 1. The first charge seemeth to be used rath- er to make me odious than guilty ; for there is not the least proof alleged — nor could there be an}^ — concerning my confederacy with the pop- ish faction. Never was a servant in authority under my lord and master more hated and ma- ligned by these men than myself, and that for an impartial and strict execution of the laws against them ; for observe, my Lords, that the greater number of the witnesses against me, whether from Ireland or from Yorkshire, were of that re- ligion. But for my ovi^n resolution, I thank God I am ready every hour of the day to seal my dis- satisfaction to the Church of Rome with my dear- est blood. Give me leave, my Lords, here to pour forth the grief of my soul before you. These pro- ceedings against me seem to be exceeding rig- orous, and to have more of prejudice than equity — that upon a supposed charge of hypocrisy or errors in religion, I should be made so odious to three kingdoms. A great many thousand eyes have seen my accusations, w^hose ears wnll never hear that when it came to the upshot, those very things were not alleged against me ! Is this fair dealing among Christians ? But I have lost nothing by that. Popular applause was ever nothing in my conceit. The uprightness and integrity of a good conscience ever was, and ever shall be, my continual feast ; and if I can be justified in your Lordships' judgments from this great imputation — as I hope I am, seeing these gentlemen have thrown down the bucklers — I shall account myself justified by the whole kingdom, because absolved by you, who are the better part, the very soul and life of the kingdom. 2. As for my designs agamst the state, I dare plead as much innocency as in the matter of re- ligion. I have ever admired the wusdom of our ancestors, who have so fixed the pillars of this monarchy that each of them keeps a due propor- tion and measure with the others — have so ad- mirably bound together the nerves and sinews of the state, that the straining of any one may bring danger and sorrow to the whole economy. • The Prerogative of the Crown and the Propriety of the Subject have such natural relations, that this takes nourishment from that^ and that foun- dation and nourishment from this. And so, as in the lute, if any one string be wound up too high or too low, you have lost the whole harmony; so here the excess of prerogative is oppression, of pretended liberty in the subject is disorder and anarchy. The prerogative must be used as God doth his omnipotence, upon extraordinary occasions ; the laws must have place at all other times. As there must be prerogative because there must be extraordinary occasions, so the propriety of the subject is ever to be maintained, if it go in equal pace with the other. They are fellows and companions that ai-e, and ever must be, inseparable in a well-ordered kingdom ; and no way is so fitting, so natural to nourish and entertain both, as the frequent use of Parlia- ments, by w^iich a commerce and acquaintance is kept up between the King and his subjects.^ These thoughts have gone along with me these fourteen years of my public employments, and shall, God willing, go with me to the grave ! God, his Majesty, and my own conscience, yea, and all of those who have been most accessary to my inward thoughts, can bear me witness that I ever did inculcate this, that the happiness of a kingdom doth consist in a just poise of the King's prerogative and the subject's liberty, and that things could never go well till these went ^ hand in hand together. I thank God for it, by my master's favor, and the providence of my an- cestors, I have an estate which so interests me in the commonwealth, that I have no great mind to be a slave.^ but a subject. Nor could I wish the cards to be shuflied over again, in hopes to fall upon a better set ; nor did I ever nourish such base and mercenary thoughts as to become a pander to the tyranny and ambition of the greatest man living. No ! I have, and ever shall, aim at a fair but bounded liberty ; remem- bering always that I am a freeman, yet a sub- ject — that I have rights, but under a monarch. It hath been my misfortune, now when I am gray-headed, to be charged by the mistakers of the times, who are so highly bent that all ap- pears to them to be in the extreme for monarchy which is not for themselves. Hence it is that designs, words, yea, intentions, are brought out as demonstrations of my misdemeanors. Such a multiplying.glass is a prejudicate opinion ! 3 Strafford was generally regarded as the secret author of the King's aversion to Parliaments, which had led him to dispense with their use for many years. Hence the above declaration, designed to relieve him from the effects of this prejudice. 1641] WHEN IMPEACHED FOR HIGH TREASON. 13 The articles against me refer to expressions and actions — my expressions either in Ireland or in England, my actions either before or after these late stirs. (1.) Some of the expressions referred to were uttered in private, and I do protest against their being drawn to my injury in this place. If, my Lords, words spoken to friends in familiar dis- course, spoken at one's table, spoken in one's chamber, spoken in one's sick-bed, spoken, per- haps, to gain better reason, to gain one's self more clear light and judgment by reasoning — if these things shall be brought against a man as treason, this (under favor) takes away the com- fort of all human society. By this means we shall be debarred from speaking — the principal joy and comfort of life — with wise and good men, to become wiser and better ourselves. If ; these things be strained to take away life, and \ honor, and all that is desirable, this will be a si- lent world/ A city will become a hermitage, I and sheep will be found among a crowd and I press of people ! No man will dare to impart I his solitary thoughts or opinions to his friend and neighbor ! Other expressions have been urged against me, which were used in giving counsel to the King. My Lords, these words were not wanton- ly or unnecessarily spoken, or whispered in a corner ; they were spoken in full council, when, by the duty of my oath, I was obliged to speak according to my heart and conscience in all things concerning the King's service. If I had forborne to speak what I conceived to be for the benefit of the King and the people, I had been perjured toward Almighty God. And for deliv- ering my mind openly and freely, shall I be in » danger of my life as a traitor ? * If that necessity be put upon me, I thank God, by his blessing, I have learned not to stand in fear of him who can only kill the body. If the question be whether I must be traitor to man or perjured to God, I will be faithful to my Creator. And whatsoever shall befall me from popular rage or my own weakness, I must leave it to that almighty Be- ing, and to the justice and honor of my judges. My Lords, I conjure you not to make your- selves so unhappy as to disable your Lordships and your children, from undertaking the great charge and trust of this Commonwealth. You inherit that trust from your fathers. You are born to great thoughts. You are nursed for the weighty employments of the kingdom. But if it be once admitted that a counselor, for delivering his opinion with others at the council board, can- dide et caste^ with candor and purity of motive, under an oath of secrecy and faithfulness, shall be brought into question, upon some misappre- hension or ignorance of law — if every word that he shall speak from sincere and noble intentions shall be drawn against him for the attainting of him, his children and posterity — I know not (un- der favor I speak it) any wise or noble person of fortune who will, upon such perilous and unsafe terms, adventure to be counselor to the King. Therefore I beseech your Lordships so to look on me, that my misfortune may not bring an inconvenience to yourselves. And though my words were not so advised and discreet, or so well weighed as they ought to have been, yet I trust your Lordships are too honorable and just to lay them to my charge as High Treason. Opinions may make a heretic^ hut that they make a traitor I have never heard till now. (2.) I am come next to speak of the actions which have been charged upon me. [Here the Earl went through with the vari- ous overt acts alleged, and repeated the sum and heads of what had been spoken by him before. In respect to the twenty-eighth article, which charged him with " a malicious design to en- gage the kingdoms of England and Scotland in a national and bloody war," but which the man- agers had not urged in the trial, he added more at large, as follows :] If that one article had been proved against me, it contained more weighty matter than all the charges besides. It would not only have been treason, but villainy, to have betrayed the trust of his Majesty's army. But as the mana- gers have been sparing, by reason of the times, as to insisting on that article, I have resolved to keep the same method, and not utter the least expression which might disturb the happy agree- ment intended between the two kingdoms. I only admire how I, being an incendiary against the Scots in the twenty-third article, am become a confederate with them in the twenty-eighth ar- ticle ! how I could be charged for betraying Newcastle, and also for fighting with the Scots at Newburne, since fighting against them was no possible means of beti-aying the town into their hands, but rather to hinder their passage thither ! I never advised war any further than, in my poor judgment, it concerned the very life of the King's authority, and the safety and hon- or of his kingdom. Nor did I ever see that any advantage could be made by a war in Scotland, where nothing could be gained but hard blows. For my part, I honor that nation, but I wish they may ever be under their own climate. I have no desire that they should be too well acquainted with the better soil of England. My Lords, you see what has been alleged for this constructive, or, rather, c?estructive treason. For my part, I have not the judgment to con- ceive, that such treason is agreeable to the fun- damental grounds either of reason or of law. Not of reason, for how can that be treason in the lump or mass, which is not so in any of its parts ? or how can that make a thing treasona- ble which is not so in itself? Not of law, since neither statute, common law, nor practice hath from the beginning of the government ever men- tioned such a thing. It is hard, my Lords, to be questioned upon a law which can not be shown ! Where hath this fire lain hid for so many hundred years, without smoke to discover it, till it thus bursts fox-th to consume me and my children ? My Lords, do we not live under laws ? and must we be pun- ished by laws before they are nuwle ? Far bet- u THE EARL OF STRAFFORD, ETC. [1G41 ter were it to live by no laws at all ; but to be £Toverned by those characters of virtue and dis- cretion, which Nature hath stamped upon us, than to put this necessity of divination upon a man, and to accuse him of a breach of law be- fore it is a law at all ! If a waterman upon the Thames split his boat by grating upon an anchor, and the same have no buoy appended to it, the owner of the anchor is to pay the loss ; but if a buoy be set there, every man passeth upon his own peril. Now where is the mark, where is the token set upon the crime, to de- clare it to be high treason ? My Lords, be pleased to give that regard to the peerage of England as never to expose your- selves to such moot points, such constructive in- terpretations of law. If there must be a trial of wits, let the subject matter be something else than the lives and honor of peers ! It will be wisdom for yourselves and your posterity to cast into the fire these bloody and mysterious vol- umes of constructive and arbitrary treason, as the primitive Christians did their books of curi- ous arts ; and betake yourselves to the plain let- ter of the law and statute, which telleth what is and what is not treason, without being ambitious to be more learned in the art of killing than our forefathers. These gentlemen tell us that they speak in defense of the Commonw^ealth against my arbitrary laws. Give me leave to say it, I speak in defense of the Commonwealth against their arbitrary treason ! It is now full two hundred and forty years since any man was touched for this alleged crime to this height before myself. Let us not awa- ken those sleeping lions to our destruction, b}^ taking up a few musty records that have lain by the walls for so many ages, forgotten or neg- lected. My Lords, what is my present misfortune may be forever yours ! It is not the smallest part of my grief that not the crime of treason, but my other sins, which are exceeding many, have brought me to this bar ; and, except your Lordships' wisdom provide against it, the shed- ding of my blood may make way for the tracing out of yours. You, your estates, your pos- terity, LIE AT THE STAKE ! For my poor self, if it were not for your Lord- ships' interest, and the interest of a saint in heaven, who hath left me here two pledges on earth — [at this his breath stopped, and he shed tears abundantly in mentioning his wife] — I should never take the pains to keep up this ru- inous cottage of mine. It is loaded with such infirmities, that in truth I have no great pleas- ure to carry it about with me any longer. Nor could I ever leave it at a fitter time than this, when I hope that the better part of the world would perhaps think that by my misfortunes I had given a testimony of my integrity to my God, my King, and my country. I thank God^ I count not the afflictions of the present life to be compared to that glory which is to be reveal- ed in the time to come ! My Lords ! my Lords ! my Lords ! something more I had intended to say, but my voice and my spirit fail me. Only I do in all humility and submission cast myself down at your Lordships' feet, and desire that I may be a beacon to keep you from shipwreck. Do not put such rocks in your own way, which no prudence, no circum- spection can eschew or satisfy, but by your utter ruin ! And so, my Lords, even so, with all tranquil- lity of mind, I submit myself to your decision. And whether your judgment in my case — I wish it were not the case of you all — be for life or for death, it shall be righteous in my eyes, and shall be received with a Te Deum laudamus, we give God the praise. The House of Lords, after due deliberation, voted that the main facts alleged in the impeach- ment had been proved in evidence ; and referred the question whether they involved the crime of treason, to the decision of the judges of the Court of the King's Bench. Previous to this, howev- er, and even before the Earl had made his clos- ing argument, a new course of proceedings was adopted in the House of Commons. When the managers had finished their evidence and argu- ments as to the facts alleged, a bill of attainder against the Earl was brought into the House by Sir Arthur Haselrig. The reason for this pro- cedure can not now be ascertained w^ith any de- gree of certainty. The friends of Strafford have always maintained, that such an impression had been made on the minds of the judges and audi- ence during the progress of the trial, as to turn the tide in his favor ; and that his accusers, fear- ing he might be acquitted, resorted to this meas- ure for the purpose of securing his condemna- tion. Such may have been the fact ; but the Commons, in their conference with the Lords, April 1 5, declared that this was the course they had originally intended to pursue, " that the ev- idences of the fact being given, it was proposed from the beginning to go by way of bill, and that they had accordingly brought in a bill for his attainder." St. John, their legal manager, positively denied that they were seeking to avoid the judicial mode of proceeding ; and, " what is stronger," as Hallam remarks, " the Lords voted on the articles judicially^ and not as if they were enacting a legislative measure." Still the bill of attainder was strenuously opposed by a few individuals in the House, and especially by Lord 1 Digby, in his celebrated speech on the subject, , which will next be given. I LORD DIGBY. George Digby, oldest son of the Earl of Bristol, was born at Madrid in 1G12, during the residence of his father in that city as English embassador to the Court of Spain. He was educated at Magdalen College, Oxford ; and entered into publico life at the age of twenty-eight, being returned member of Parliament for the county of Dorset, in April, 1640. In common with his father, who had incurred the dis- pleasure of the King by his impeachment of Buckingham in 1G2G, Lord Digby came forward at an early period of the session, as an open and determined enemy of the Court. Among the " Speeches relative to Grievances," his, as representative of Dorsetshire, was one of the most bold and impassioned. His argument shortly after in favor of triennial Parliaments, was characterized by a still higher order of eloquence ; and in the course of it he made a bitter attack upon Strafford, in show- ing the necessity of frequent Parliaments as a control upon ministers, declaring " he must not expect to be pardoned in this world till he is dispatched to the other." From the ardor with which he expressed these sentiments, and the leading part he took in every measure for the defense of the people's rights. Lord Digby was ap- pointed one of the managers for the impeachment of Strafford. Into this he en- tered, for a time, with the utmost zeal. He is described by Clarendon as a man of uncommon activity of mind and fertility of invention ; bold and impetuous in what- ever designs he undertook ; but deficient in judgment, inordinately vain and ambi- tious, of a volatile and unquiet spirit, disposed to separate councils, and governed more by impulse than by fixed principles. Whether the course he took in respect to the attainder of Strafford ought to be referred in any degree to the last-mentioned traits of character, or solely to a sense of justice, a conviction forced upon him in the progress of the trial that the testimony had failed to sustain the charge of treason, can not, perhaps, be decided at the present day. The internal evidence afforded by the speech, is strongly in favor of his honesty and rectitude of intention. He appears throughout like one who was conscious of having gone too far ; and who was de- termined to retrieve his error, at whatever expense of popular odium it might cost him. Had he stopped here, there would have been no ground for imputations on his character. But he almost instantly changed the whole tenor of his political life. He abandoned his former principles ; he joined the Court party ; and did more, as we learn from Clarendon, to ruin Charles by his rashness and pertinacity, than any other man. But, whatever may be thought of Digby, the speech is one of great manliness and force. It is plausible in its statements, just in its distinc- tions, and weighty in its reasonings. "Without exhibiting any great superiority of genius, and especially any richness of imagination, it presents us with a rapid suc- cession of striking and appropriate thoughts, clearly arranged and vividly expressed In one respect, the diction is worthy of being studied. It abounds in those direct and pointed forms of speech, which sink at once into the heart ; and by their very plainness give an air of perfect sincerity to the speaker, which of all things is the most important to one who is contending (as he was) against the force of popular prejudic3. Much of the celebrity attached to this speech is owing, no doubtHo the circumstances under which it was delivered.^ The House of Commons must have presented a scene of the most exciting nature when, at the moment of taking the final vote on the bill, one of the managers of the impeachment came forward to abandon his ground ; to disclose the proceedings of the committee in secret session; and to denounce the condemnation of Strafford by a bill of attainder, as an act of murder. SPEECH OF LORD DIGBY ON THE BILL OF ATTAINDER AGAINST THE EARL OF STRAFFORD, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, APRIL 21, 1641. We are now upon the point of giving, as much as in us lies, the final sentence unto death or life, on a great minister of state and peer of this king- dom, Thomas, Earl of Strafford, a name of ha- tred in the present age for his practices, and fit to be made a teri'or to future ages by his punish- ment. I have had the honor to be employed by the House in this great business, from the first hour that it was taken into consideration. It was a matter of great trust ; and I will say with con- fidence that I have served the House in it, not only with industry, according to my ability, but with most exact faithfulness and justice. And as I have hitherto discharged ray duty to this House and to my country in the progress of this great cause, so I trust I shall do now, in the last period of it, to God and to a good con- science. I do wish the peace of that to myself, and the blessing of Almighty God to me and my posterity, according as my judgment on the life of this man shall be consonant with my heart, and the best of my understanding in all integrity. I know well that by some things I have said of late, while this bill was in agitation, I have raised some prejudices against me in the cause. Yea, some (I thank them for their plain dealing) have been so free as to tell me, that I have suf- fered much by the backw^ardness I have shown in the bill of attainder of the Earl of StrafTord, against whom I have formerly been so keen, so active. I beg of you, Mr. Speaker, and the rest, but a suspension of judgment concerning me, till I have opened my heart to you, clearly and freely, m this business. Truly, sir, I am still the same in my opinion and affections as to the Earl of Strafford. I confidently believe him to be the most dangerous minister, the most insupportable to free subjects, that can be charactered. I be- lieve his practices in themselves to have been as high and tyrannical as any subject ever ventured on ; and the malignity of them greatly aggrava- ted by those rare abilities of his, whereof God hath given him the use, but the devil the appli- cation. In a word, I believe him to be still that grand apostate to the Commonwealth, who must not expect to be pardoned in this world till he be dispatched to the other. And yet let me tell you, Mr. Speaker, my hand must not be to that dispatch. I protest, as my conscience stands informed, I had rather it were off. Let me unfold to you the mystery, Mr. Speak- er : I will not dwell much upon justifying to you my seeming variance at this time from what I was formerly, by putting you in mind of the dif- ference between prosecutors and judges — how misbecoming that fervor would be in a judge which, perhaps, was commendable in a prose- cutor. Judges we are now, and must, therefore, put on another personage. It is honest and no- ble to be earnest in order to the discovery of truth ; but when that hath been brought so far as it can be to light, our judgment thereupon ought to be calm and cautious. In prosecution upon probable grounds, we are accountable only for our industry or remissness ; but in judgment, we are deeply responsible to Almighty God for its rectitude or obliquity. In cases of life, the judge is God's steward of the party's blood, and must give a strict account for every drop. But, as I told you, Mr. Speaker, I will not in- sist long upon this ground of difference in me now from what I was formerly. The truth of it is, sir, the same ground whereupon I with the rest of the few to whom you first committed the consideration of my Lord Strafford, brought down our opinion that it was fit he should be accused of treason — upon the same ground, I was en- gaged with earnestness in his prosecution ; and had the same ground remained in that force of belief in me, which till very lately it did, I should not have been tender in his condemnation. But truly, sir, to deal plainly with you, that ground of our accusation — that which should be the ba- sis of our judgment of the Earl of Strafford as to treason — is, to my understanding, quite vanished away. This it was, Mr. Speaker — his advising the King to employ the army in Ireland to reduce England. This I was assured would be proved, before I gave my consent to his accusation. I was confirmed in the same belief during the pros- ecution, and fortified most of all in it, after Sir Henry Vane's preparatory examination, by as- surances which that worthy member Mr. Pym gave me, that his testimony would be made con- vincing by some notes of what passed at the Junto [Privy Council] concurrent with it. This I ever understood would be of some other coun- selor; but you see now, it proves only to be a copy of the same secretary's notes, discovered and produced in the manner you have heard : and those such disjointed fragments of the ven- omous part of discourses — no results, no conclu- sions of councils, which are the only things that secretaries should register, there being no use of the other but to accuse and bring men into danirer.^ 1641 ] LORD DIGBY AGAINST THE ATTAINDER OF STRAFFORD. 1/ Bat, sir, this is not that which overthrows the evidence with me concerninor the army in Irelftnd, nor yet that all the rest of the Junto remember nothing of it ; but this, sir, which I shall tell you, is that which works with me, under favor, to an utter overthrow of his evidence as touching the army of Ireland. Before, while I was pros- ecutor, and under tie of secrecy, I might not dis- cover [disclose] any weakness of the cause, which now, as judge, I must. Mr. Secretary Vane was examined thrice upon oath at the preparatory committee. The first time he was questioned as to all the interrogato- ries ; and to that part of the seventh which con- cerns the army in Ireland, he said positively these words : "I can not charge him with that;" but for the rest, he desired time to recollect himself, which was granted him. Some days after, he was examined a second time, and then deposed these words concerning the King's being absolv- ed from rules of government, and so forth, very clearly. But being pressed as to that part con- cerning the Irish army, again he said he could say "nothing to that." Here we thought we had done wnth him, till divers weeks after, my Lord of Northumberland, and all others of the Junto, denying to have heard any thing concern- ing those words of reducing England by the Irish arni}^, it was thought fit to examine the secretary once more ; and then he deposed these words to have been spoken by the Earl of Strafford to his Majesty : " You have an army in Ireland, which you ma}'' employ here to reduce (or some word to that sense) this kingdom." Mr. Speaker, these are the circumstances which I confess with my conscience, thrust quite out of doors that grand article of our charge concerning his des- perate advice to the King of employing the Irish army here. Let not this, I beseech you, be driven to an aspersion upon Mr. Secretary, as if he should have sworn otherwise than he knew or believed. He is too worthy to do that. Only let this much be inferred from it, that he, who twice upon oath, with time of recollection, could not remember any thing of such a business, might well, a third time, raisremember somewhat ; and in this business the difference of one word "here" for "there," or "that" for "this," quite alters the case; the latter also being the more probable, since it is confessed on all hands that the debate then was concerning a war with Scotland. And you may remember, that at the bar he once said " employ there:' And thus, Mr. Speaker, have I faithfully given you an account what it is that hath blunt- ed the edge of the hatchet, or bill, with me, to- ward my Lord Strafford. This was that whereupon I accused him with a free heart ; prosecuted him with earnestness ; and had it to my understanding been proved, should have condemned him with innocence ; whereas now I can not satisfy my conscience to do it. I profess I can have no notion of any body's intent to subvert the laws treasonably, but by force ; and this design of force not appearing, all his other wicked practices can not amount so B high with me. I can find a more easy and nat- ural spring from whence to derive all his other crimes, than from an intent to bring in tyranny, and make his own posterit}', as well as us, slaves ; viz., from revenge, from pride, from passion, and from insolence of nature. But had this of the Irish army been proved, it would have diflTused a complexion of treason over all. It would have been a withe indeed, to bind all those other scat- tered and lesser branches, as it were, into a fag- ot of treason. I do not say but the rest of the things charged may represent him a man as worthy to die, and perhaps worthier than many a traitor. I do not say but they may justly direct us to enact that they shall be treason for the future. But God keep me from giving judgment of death on any man, and of ruin to his innocent posterity, upon a law made a posteriori. Let the mark be set on the door where the plague is, and then let him that will enter, die.^ I know, Mr. Speaker, there is in Parliament a double power of life and death by bill ; a ju- dicial power, and a legislative. The measure of the one is, what is legally just; of the other, what is prudentially and politically fit for the good and preservation of the whole. But these two, under favor, are not to be confounded in judgment. We must not piece out want of le- gality with matter of convenience, nor the de- failance of prudential fitness with a pretense of legal justice. To condemn my Lord of Strafford judicially^ as for treason, my conscience is not assured that the matter will bear it ; and to do it by the leg- islative power, my reason consultively can not agree to that, since I am persuaded that neither the Lords nor the King will pass this bill ; and, consequently, that our passing it will be a cause of great divisions, and contentions in the state. Therefore my humble advice is, that, laying aside this bill of attainder, we may think of an- other, saving only life; such as may secure the state from my Lord of StrafTord, without endan- gering it as much by division concerning his punishment, as he hath endangered it by his practices. If this may not be hearkened unto, let me conclude in saying that to you all, which I have thoroughly inculcated upon mine own con- science, on this occasion. Let every man lay his hand upon his own heart, and seriously con- sider what we are going to do with a breath : either justice or murder — justice on the one side, or murder, heightened and aggravated to its su- premest extent, on the other ! For, as the cas- uists say, He who lies with his sister commits in- cest ; but he that marries his sister, sins higher, by applying God's ordinance to his crime ; so, doubt- less, he that commits murder with the sword of justice, heightens that crime to the utmost. ^ This image was peculiarly appropriate and for- cible at that time, when the plague had recently prevailed in London, and a mark was placed by the magistrates on infected dwellings as a warni/ig not to enter. 18 LORD DIGBY AGAINST THE ATTAINDER OF STRAFFORD. [1641. The danger being so great, and the ease so doubtful, that I see the best lawyers in diamet- rical opposition concerning it ; let every man wipe his heart as he does his eyes, when he would judge of a nice and subtle object. The eye, if it be pre-tinctured with any color, is vi- tiated in its discerning. Let us take heed of a blood-shotten eye in judgment. Let every man purge his heart clear of all passions. I know this great and wise body politic can have none ; but I speak to individuals from the weakness which I find in myself. Away with personal animosities ! Away with all flatteries to the people, in being the sharper against him because he is odious to them ! Away with all fears, lest by sparing his blood they may be incensed ! Away with all such considerations, as that it is not fit for a Parliament that one accused by it of treason, should escape with life ! Let not for- mer vehemence of any against him, nor fear from thence that he can not be safe while that man lives, be an ingredient in the sentence of any one of us. Of all these corruptives of judgment, Mr. Speaker, I do, before God, discharge myself to the utmost of my power ; and do now, with a clear conscience, wash my hands of this man's blood by this solemn protestation, that my vote goes not to the taking of the Earl of Strafford'' s life. Notwithstanding this eloquent appeal, the bill of attainder was carried the same day in the House, by a vote of two hundred and four to fifty- nine. The Lords had already decided in their ju- dicial capacity that the msan facts alleged in the indictment were proved, and referred the points of law to the decision of the judges of the Court of the King's Bench. On the seventh of May, " the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench de- livered in to the Lords the unanimous decision of all the judges present, ' That they are of opin- ion upon all which their Lordships had voted to be proved, that the Earl of Strafford doth deserve to undergo the pains and forfeitures of high treason by law.' " — Pari. Hist., vol. ii., p. 757. The Lords now yielded the point of form to the Commons ; and as the penal consequences were the same, instead of giving sentence under the impeachment, they passed the bill of attainder the next day. May 8th, by a vote of twenty-six to nineteen. • It was still in the power of Charles to save Strafford by refusing his assent to the bill ; and he had made a solemn and written promise to de- liver him from his enemies in the last extremity, by the exercise of the royal prerogative. But, wnth his constitutional fickleness, he yielded ; and then, to pacify his conscience, he sent a let- ter to the Lords asking the consent of Parlia- ment, that he might "moderate the severity of the law in so important a case." Still, with that weakness, amounting to fatuity, which so often marked his conduct, he nullified his own request by that celebrated postscript, " If he must die, it were charity to reprieve him till Saturday !" As might have been expected, the Earl was executed the next day, May 12th, 1641. The House of Commons, however, with a generosity never manifested before or since in such a case, immediately passed a bill to relieve his descendants from the penalties of forfeiture and corruption of blood. It is now generally admitted that, in a moral point of view, Straffbrd richly merited the pun- ishment he received. On the question of legal right, it may be proper to say, that while the doctrine of constructive treason under an im- peachment can not be too strongly condemned, the proceedings under a bill of attainder were of a different nature. "Acts of Parliament," says Blackstone, " to attaint particular persons of treason, are to all intents and purposes new laws made pro re nata, and by no means an ex- ecution of such as are already in being." They are, from their very nature, ex post facto laws. They proceed on the principle that while judicial courts are to be governed by the strict letter of the law, as previously known and established, Parliament, in exercising the high sovereignty of the state, may, " on great and crying occa- sions," arrest some enormous offender in the midst of his crimes, and inflict upon him the punishment he so richly deserves, even in cases where, owing to a defect in the law, or to the arts of successful evasion, it is impossible to reach him by means of impeachment, or through the ordinary tribunals of justice. Such a power is obviously liable to great abuses ; and it is, therefore, expressly interdicted to Congress in the Constitution of the United States. But it has always belonged, and still belongs, to the Parliament of Great Britain, though for many years it has ceased to be exercised in this form. The principle of retrospective punishment (the only thing really objectionable in this case) has, indeed, come down in a milder form to a very late period of English history. We find it in those bills of "pains and penalties," which, as Hallam observes, "have, in times of compara- tive moderation and tranquillity, been sometimes thought necessary to visit some unforeseen and anomalous transgression, be3'ond the reach of our penal code." Mr. Macaulay maintains that the Earl's death, under existing circumstances, was absolutely necessary ; " that, during the civil wars, the Parliament had reason to rejoice that an irreversible law and an impassable barrier protected them from the valor and rapacity of Strafford." Those who think differently on this point must at least agree with Hallam, that "he died justly before God and man ; though we may deem the precedent dangerous, and the better course of a magnanimous lenity rejected ; and in condemning the bill of attainder, we can not look upon it as a crime." J LORD BELHAVEN. The author of this speech belonged to the Hamilton family. He was one oi the old Presbyterian lords, of high education, especially in classical literature ; lofty in his demeanor ; dauntless in spirit ; and wholly devoted to the peculiar interests of his country. The speech owes much of its celebritjrto the circumstances under which it was delivere(^ It embodies the feelings of a proud and jealous people, when called upon to surrender their national independence, and submit to the authority of the British Parliament. A century had now elapsed since the union of the English and Scottish crowns in the person of James I., and Scotland still remained a distinct kingdom, with its own Parliament, its own judicial system, its own immemorial usages which had all the force of law. This state of things, though gratifying to the pride of the Scot- tish people, was the source of endless jealousies and contentions between the two countries ; and, as commonly happens in such cases, the weaker party suffered most. Scotland was governed by alternate corruption and force. Her nobility and gentry were drawn to England in great numbers by the attractions of the Court, as the seat of fashion, honor, and power. The nation was thus drained of her wealth ; and the drain became greater, as her merchants and tradesmen were led to transfer their capital to the sister kingdom, in consequence of the superior facilities for trade which were there enjoyed. It was now apparent that Scotland could never flourish until she was permitted to share in those commercial advantages, from which she was debarred as a distinct country, by the Navigation Act of England. The Scotch were, therefore, clamor- ous in their demands for some arrangement to this effect. But the English had always looked with jealousy upon any intermeddling with trade, on the part of Scot- land. They had crushed her African and India Company by their selfish opposition, and had left her Darien settlement of twelve hundred souls to perish for want of support and protection ; so that few families in the Lowlands had escaped the loss of a relative or friend. Exasperated by these injuries, and by the evident determin- ation of the English to cut them off from all participation in the benefits of trade, the Scotch were hurried into a measure of alarming aspect for the safety of the em- pire. Noble and burgher, Jacobite and Presbyterian, were for once united. There was one point where England was vulnerable. It was the succession to the crown. This had been settled by the English Parliament on the Protestant line in the house of Hanover, and the fullest expectations were entertained that the Parliament of Scotland would readily unite in the same measure. Instead of this, the Scotch, in 1704, passed their famous Act of Security, in which they threw down the gauntlet to England, and enacted, that " the same person should be incapable of succeeding in both kingdoms, unless a free communication of trade, the benefits of the Naviga- tion Act, and liberty of the Plantations [i. e., of trading with the British West In- dies and North America] was first obtained." They also provided conditionally for a separate successor, and passed laws for arming the whole kingdom in his defense. It was now obvious that concessions must be made on both sides, or the contest be decided by the sword. The ministry of Q.ueen Anne, therefore, proposed that commissioners from the two kingdoms should meet at London, to devise a plan of 20 LORD BELHAVEN. Union, which should be mutually advantageous to the two countries. This was accordingly done, in the month of April, 1706 ; and, after long negotiations, it was agreed, that the two kingdoms should be united into one under the British Parlia- ment, with the addition of sixteen Scottish peers to the House of Lords, and of forty-five Scottish members to the House of Commons ; that the Scotch should be entitled to all the privileges of the English in respect to trade, and be subject to the same excise and duties ; that Scotland should receive £.398,000 as a compen- sation or " equivalent" for the share of liability she assumed in the English debt of £20,000,000 ; and that the churches of England and Scotland respectively should be confirmed in all their rights and privileges, as a fundamental condition of the Union. These arrangements were kept secret until October, 1706, when the Scottish Parliament met to consider and decide on the plan proposed. The moment the Articles were read in that body, and given to the public in print, they were met with a burst of indignant reprobation from every quarter. A federal union which should confer equal advantages for trade, was all that the Scotch in general had ever contemplated : an incorporating union, which should abolish their Parliament and extinguish their national existence, was what most Scotchmen had never dreamed of. Nor is it surprising, aside from all considerations of national honor, that such a union should have been regarded with jealousy and dread. " No past experience of history," says Hallam, " was favorable to the absorption of a lesser state (at least where the government partook so much of a republican form) in one of superior power and ancient rivalry. The representation of Scotland in the iniited Legislature, was too feeble to give any thing like security against the English prej- udices and animosities, if they should contirme or revive. The Church of Scotland was exposed to the most apparent perils, brought thus within the power of a Legis- lature so frequently influenced by one which held her, not as a sister, but rather as a bastard usurper of a sister's inheritance ; and though her permanence was guar- anteed by the treaty, yet it was hard to say how far the legal competence of Par- liament might hereafter be deemed to extend, or, at least, how far she might be abridged of her privileges and impaired in her dignity." It was with sentiments like these that, when the first article of the treaty was read. Lord Belhaven arose, and addressed the Parliament of Scotland in the follow- ing speech. It is obviously reported in a very imperfect manner, and was designed merely to open the discussion which was expected to follow, and not to enter at large into the argument. It was a simple burst of feeling, in which the great leader of the country party, who was equally distinguished for " the mighty sway of his tal- ents and the resoluteness of his temper," poured out his emotions in view of that act oi parricide, as he considered it, to which the Parliament was now called. He felt that no regard to consequences, no loss or advancement of trade, manufactures, or national wealth, ought to have the weight of a feather, when the honor and ex- istence of his country were at stake. He felt that Scotland, if only united, was abundantly able to work out her own salvation. These two thoughts, therefore — NATIONAL HONOR and NATIONAL UNION — Constitute the burden of his speech. SPEECH OF LORD BELHAVEN AGAINST THE LEGISLATIVE UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND, DELIV- ERED IN THE PARLIAMENT OF SCOTLAND, NOV. 2, 1706. My Lord Chancellor, — When I consider The affair of a union betwixt the two nations, as expressed in the several articles thereof, and uow the subject of our deliberation at this time, 1 find my mind crowded with a variety of mel- ancholy thoughts ; and I think it my duty to dis- burden myself of some of them by laying them before, and exposing them to the serious con- sideration of this honorable House. I think I see a free and independent kingdom delivering up that which all the world hath been fighting for since the days of Nimrod ; yea, that for which most of all the empires, kingdoms, states, principalities, and dukedoms of Europe, are at this time engaged in the most bloody and cruel wars ; to wit, a power to manage their own affairs by themselves, without the assistance and counsel of any other. I think I see a national church, founded upon a rock, secured by a claim of right, hedged and fenced about by the strictest and most pointed legal sanctions that sovereignty could contrive, voluntarily descending into a plain, upon an equal level with Jews, Papists, Socinians, Ar- minians, Anabaptists, and other sectaries. I think I see the noble and honorable peerage of Scotland, whose valiant predecessors led ar- mies against their enemies upon their own prop- er charges and expense, now devested of their followers and vassalages ; and put upon such an equal foot with their vassals, that I think I see a petty English exciseman receive more hom- age and respect than what was paid formerly to their quondam Mackalamores. I think 1 see the present peers of Scotland, whose noble ancestors conquered provinces, overran countries, reduced and subjected towns and fortified places, exacted tribute through the greatest part of England, now walking in the Court of Requests, like so many English attor- neys ; laying aside their walking swords v^'hen in company with the English peers, lest their self-defense should be found murder. I think I see the honorable estate of barons, the bold assertors of the nation's rights and lib- erties in the worst of times, now setting a watch upon their lips, and a guard upon their tongues, lest they may be found guilty of scandalum mag- natum, a speaking evil of dignities. I think I see the royal state of burghers walk- [nrr their desolate streets, hanging down their heads under disappointments, wormed out of all the branches of their old trade, uncertain what hand to turn to, necessitated to become pren- tices to their unkind neighbors ; and yet, after all, finding their trade so fortified by companies. and secured by prescriptions, that they despair of any success therein. I think I see our learned judges laying aside their pratiques and decisions, studying the com- mon law of England, graveled with certioraris, nisi priuses, writs of error, verdicts, injunctions, demurs, &c., and frightened with appeals and avocations, because of the new regulations and rectifications they may meet with. I think I see the valiant and gallant soldiery either sent to learn the plantation trade abroad, or at home petitioning for a small subsistence, as a reward of their honorable exploits ; while their old corps are broken, the common soldiers left to beg, and the youngest English corps kept standing. I think I see the honest industrious tradesman loaded with new taxes and impositions, disap- pointed of the equivalents,^ drinking water in place of ale, eating his saltless pottage, petition- ing for encouragement to his manufactures, and answered by counter petitions. In short, I think I see the laborious plow- man, with his corn spoiling upon his hands for want of sale, cursing the day of his birth, dread- ing the expense of his burial, and uncertain whether to marry or do worse. I think I see the incurable difficulties of the landed men, fettered under the golden chain of "equivalents," their pretty daughters petition- ing for want of husbands, and their sons for want of employment. I think I see our mariners delivering up their ships to their Dutch partners ; and what through presses and necessity, earning their bread as un- derlings in the royal English navy ! But above all, my Lord, I think I see our an- cient mother, Caledonia, like Cesar, sitting in the midst of our Senate, ruefully looking round about her, covering herself with her royal gar- ment, attending the fatal blow, and breathing out her last with an et tu quoque 7ni Jili .'^ ^ The "equivalent," or compensation, of £398,000, spoken of above, was to be distributed, a great por- tion of it, to the shareholders of tlie African and In- dia Company, who had suffered so severely by the breaking- up of the Darien settlement. As the shares must, in many instances, have changed hands, great inequality and disappointment was to be expected in the distribution of this money ; which was like- ly, in most cases, to go into the hands of the friends of government, as a bribe or recompense for services on this occasion. 2 Tlie actual exclamation of Cesar, as stated by Suetonius, was in Greek, Kal ov rtKVOV ; and llioic also, my child? The Latin version was undoubt- edly made at the time, by those who reported the 22 LORD BELHAVET^ AGAINST THE [1706. Are not these, my Lord, very afllicting thoughts ? And yet they are but the least part suggested to me by these dishonorable articles. Should not the consideration of these things viv- ify these dry bones of ours ? Should not the memory of our noble predecessors' valor and constancy rouse up our drooping spirits ? Are our noble predecessors' souls got so far into the English cabbage stalk and cauliflowers, that we should show the least inclination that way ? Are our eyes so blinded, are our ears so deafen- ed, are our hearts so hardened, are our tongues so faltered, are our hands so fettered, that in this our day — I say, my Lord, in this our day — we should not mind the things that concern the very being, and well-being of our ancient king- dom, before the day be hid from our eyes ? No. my Lord, God forbid ! Man's extremity is God's opportunity : he is a present help in time of need — a deliverer, and that right early ! Some unforeseen providence will fall out, that may cast the balance •, some Joseph or other will say, " Why do ye strive together, since ye are brethren ?" None can destroy Scotland save Scotland's self. Hold your hands from the pen, and you are secure ! There will be a Jehovah- Jireh ; and some ram will be caught in the thicket, when the bloody knife is at our mother's throat. Let us, then, my Lord, and let our no- ble patriots behave themselves like men, and we know not how soon a blessing may come. I design not at this time to enter into the merits of any one particular article. I intend this discourse as an introduction to what I may afterward say upon the whole debate, as it falls in before this honorable House ; and therefore, in the further prosecution of what I have to say, I shall insist upon a few particulars, very neces- sary to be understood before we enter into the detail of so important a matter. I shall therefore, in the first place, endeavor to encourage a free and full deliberation, with- out animosities and heats. In the next place, I shall endeavor to make an inquiry into the na- ture and source of the unnatural and dangerous divisions that are now on foot within this isle, with some motives showing that it is our inter- est to lay them aside at this time. And all this with all deference, and under the correction of this honorable House. My Lord Chancellor, the greatest honor that was done unto a Roman, was to allow him the glory of a triumph; the greatest and most dis- honorable punishment was that of parricide. He that was guilty of parricide was beaten with rods upon his naked body, till the blood gushed out of all the veins of his body ; then he was sewed up in a leathern sack called a culcus, with a cock, a viper, and an ape, and thrown headlong into the sea. My Lord, patricide is a greater crime than parricide, all the world over. In a triumph, my Lord, when the conqueror words. By many at the present day, " Et t.u- Bru- te," has been given as the expression; but for this, it is believed, there is no classical authority. was riding in his triumphal chariot, crownM with laurels, adorned with trophies, and ap-. plauded with huzzas, there was a monitor ap-k pointed to stand behind him, to warn him not to be high-minded, nor puffed up with overweenr ing thoughts of himself; and to his chariot wer<6 tied a whip and a bell, to remind him that, notr withstanding all his glory and grandeur, he was accountable to the people for his administration, and would be punished as other men, if found guilty. The greatest honor among us, my Lord, is to represent the sovereign's sacred person [as High Commissioner] in Parliament ; and in one par- ticular it appears to be greater than that of a triumph, because the whole legislative power seems to be intrusted w^ith him. If he give the royal assent to an act of the estates, it becomes a law obligatory upon the subject, though con- trary to or without any instructions from the sovereign. If he refuse the royal assent to a vote in Parliament, it can not be a law, though he has the sovereign's particular and positive instructions for it. His Grace the Duke of Queensbury, who now represents her Majesty in this session of Parlia- ment, hath had the honor of that great trust as often, if not more, than any Scotchman ever had. He hath been the favorite of two successive sovereigns ; and I can not but commend his con- stancy and perseverance, that, notwithstanding his former difficulties and unsuccessful attempts, and maugre some other specialities not yet de- termined, his Grace has yet had the resolution to undertake the most unpopular measure last. If his Grace succeed in this affair of a union, and that it prove for the happiness and welfare of the nation, then he justly merits to have a statue of gold erected for himself; but if it shall tend to the entire destruction and abolition of our na- tion, and that we, the nation's trustees, shall go into it, then I must say, that a whip and a bell, a cock, a viper, and an ape, are but too small punishments for any such bold, unnatural under- taking and complaisance.^ L That I may pave the way, my Lord, to a full, calm, and free reasoning upon this affair, which is of the last consequence unto this na- tion, I shall mind this honorable House, that we are the successors of those noble ancestors w^ho founded our monarchy, framed our laws, amend- ed, altered, and corrected them from time to 3 The High-Commissioner dueensbury, though by birth a Scotchman, had by long employment in the service of the Court, lost all regard for the distinctive interests and honor of bis native country. He was conciliating in his manners, cool, enterprising, and resolute, expert in all the arts and intrigues of poli- tics, and lavish of the public money for the accom- plishment of his purposes. He had been the agent of the Court for attempting many unpopular meas- ures in the Scottish Parliament ; and he had now " the resolution to undertake the most unpopular measure last." He was generally hated and sus- pected as a renegade ; and hence the bitterness with which he is here assailed, as seeking "the en- tire destruction and abolition of the nation." 1706.] LEGISLATIVE UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 23 time, as the affairs and circumstances of the na- tion did require, without the assistance or ad- vice of any foreign power or potentate ; and who, during the time of two thousand years, have handed them down to us, a free, independ- ent nation, with the hazard of their lives and fortunes. Shall not we, then, argue for that which our progenitors have purchased for us at so dear a rate, and with so much immortal honor and glory ? God forbid. Shall the hazard of a father unbind the ligaments of a dumb son's tongue, and shall we hold our peace when our patria^ our country, is in danger ?'^ I say this, my Lord, that I may encourage every individ- ual member of this House to speak his mind freely. There are many wise and prudent men among us, who think it not worth their while to open their mouths ; there are others, who can speak very well, and to good purpose, who shel- ter themselves under the shameful cloak of si- lence from a fear of the frowns of great men and parties. I have observed, my Lord, by my ex- perience, the greatest number of speakers in the most trivial affairs ; and it will always prove so, while we come not to the right understand- ing of the oath de fideli^ whereby we are bound not only to give our vote, but onr faithful ad- vice in Parliament, as we should answer to God. And in our ancient laws, the representatives of the honorable barons and the royal boroughs are termed " spokesmen.'''' It lies upon your Lord- ships, therefore, particularly to take notice of such, whose modesty makes them bashful to speak. Therefore I shall leave it upon you, and conclude this point with a very memorable say- ing of an honest private gentleman to a great Queen, upon occasion of a state project, con- trived by an able statesman, and the favorite to a great King, against a peaceful, obedient peo- ple, because of the diversity of their laws and constitutions : " If at this time thou hold thy peace, salvation shall come to the people from another place ; but thou and thy house shall per- ish." I leave the application to each particu- lar member of this House.-'' * Allusion is here made to the story of Croesus and his dumb child, as related by Herodotus. At the storming of Sardis, a Persian soldier, through ignorance of the King's person, was about to kill Croesus ; when his dumb son, under the impulse of astonishment and terror, broke silence, and exclaim- ed, " Oh man, do not kill my father Croesus !" There was evidently in the mind of the speaker, and per- haps in the language actually employed, a play on the words pater, father, and patria, country, which gave still greater force to the allusion. 5 An appeal is here made, not merely to those members of Parliament who were at first awed into silence by the authority of the Court, but to the Squadrone Volante, or Flying Squadron, a party headed by the Marquess of Tweddale, who held the balance of power, and were accustomed to throw themselves, during the progress of a debate, on that side where they could gain most. This party had thus far maintained a cautious silence ; and the ob- ject of Lord Belhaven was to urge them, under the pressure of a general and indignant public senti- ment, to declare themselves at once on the popular II. My Lord, I come now to consider our di- visions. We are under the happy reign, blessed be God, of the best of queens, who has no evil design against the meanest of her subjects ; who loves all her people, and is equally beloved by them again ; and yet, that under the happy influence of our most excellent Queen, there should be such divisions and factions, more dan- gerous and threatening to her dominions than if we were under an arbitrary government, is most strange and unaccountable. Under an arbitrary prince all are willing to serve, because all are under a necessity to obey, whether they will or not. He chooses, therefore, whom he will, with- out respect to either parties or factions ; and if he think fit to take the advice of his councils or Parliaments, every man speaks his mind freely, and the prince receives the faithful advice of his people, without the mixture of self-designs. If he prove a good prince, the government is easy -, if bad, either death or a revolution brings a deliv- erance : whereas here, my Lord, there appears no end of our misery, if not prevented in time. Factions are now become independent, and have got footing in councils, in Parliaments, in treaties, in armies, in incorporations, in families, among kindred ; yea, man and wife are not free from their political jars. It remains, therefore, my Lord, that I inquire into the nature of these things ; and since the names give us not the right idea of the thing, I am afraid I shall have difficulty to make myself well understood. The names generally used to denote the fac- tions are Whig and Tory ; as obscure as that of Guelfs and Ghibellines ; yea, my Lord, they have different significations, as they are applied to fac- tions in each kingdom. A Whig in England is a heterogeneous creature : in Scotland he is all of a piece. A Tory in England is all of a piece, and a statesman : in Scotland he is quite other- wise ; an anti-courtier and anti-statesman. A Whig in England appears to be somewhat like Nebuchadnezzar's image, of different met- als, different classes, different principles, and dif- ferent designs ; yet, take them altogether, they are like a piece of some mixed drugget of dif- ferent threads; some finer, some coarser, which, after all, make a comely appearance and an agreeable suit. Tory is like a piece of loyal home-made English cloth, the true staple of the nation, all of a thread ; yet if we look narrowly into it, we shall perceive a diversity of colors, which, according to the various situations and positions, make various appearances. Some- times Tory is like the moon in its full ; as ap- peared in the affair of the Bill of Occasional Con- formity. Upon other occasions, it appears to be under a cloud, and as if it were eclipsed by a greater body ; as it did in the design of calling over the illustrious Princess Sophia. However, by this we may see their designs are to out- shoot Whiir in his own bow. side, before the influence of the Court had time to operate through patronage or bribery. 24 LORD BELHAVEN AGAINST THE [1706. Whig, in Scotland, is a true blue Presbyterian, who, without considering time or power, will venture his all for the Kirk, but soniething less for the State. The greatest difficulty is how to describe a Scots Tory. Of old, when I knew them first, Tory was an honest-hearted, com- radish fellow, who, provided he was maintained and protected in his benefices, titles, and dig- nities by the State, was the less anxious who had the government of the Church. But now, •what he is since jure divino came in fashion, and that Christianity, and by consequence salvation, comes to depend upon episcopal ordination, I profess 1 knovi^ not what to make of him; only this I must say for him, that he endeavors to do by opposition that which his brother in England endeavors by a more prudent and less scrupulous method.*^ Now, my Lord, from these divisions there has got up a kind of aristocracy, something like the famous triumvirate at Rome. They are a kind of undertakers and pragmatic statesmen, who, finding their powder and strength great, and answerable to their designs, will make bar- gains with our gracious sovereign ; they will serve her faithfully, but upon their own terms; they must have their own instruments, their own measures. This man must be turned out, and 6 A few words of explanation will make this de- scription clearer. The English Whigs effected the Revolution of 1688 by combining various interests against James II., and in favor of King William. Hence the party was composed of discordant ma- terials; and Belhaven therefore describes it as a " mixed drugget of different threads," although, as a Scotch Presbyterian, he would naturally consider it as adapted to make "a comely appearance and an agreeable suit," from its Low-Church character, and its swpport of the Protestant succession. The English Tories were "the true staple of the nation," being chiefly the old and wealthy families of the Es- tablishment, holding to High-Church principles and the divine right of kings. They gained the ascend- ency on the accession of dueen Anne to the throne, and were thus " like the moon in its full." They showed their sense of this ascendency, and their de- termination to maintain it, by the Bill of Occasional Coufoi rait}', which excluded from ofKce all persons who had attended a dissenting place of worship. Afterward they changed their policy, and sought favor with the Hanover family, by a proposal for "calling over the Princess Sophia," who was the next successor to the crown. This gave great of- fense to Queen Anne, so that now they were under a cloud, and as it were eclipsed. This courting of the Hanover family (which had hitherto been sup- ported by the Whigs alone) showed the English Tory to be " a statesman," or statemonger, bent on having power from supporting the state. A Scotch Tory, on the contrary, was a Jacobite, an "anti- courtier and anti-statesman," opposed to the very existence of the new government; while a Scotch Whig was a true blue Presbyterian, resolving his entire politics into the advancement of his Kirk and his country. The object of this satire on parties was to create a national spirit among the Scotch, which should put an end to their factions, and unite them all in maintaining their country's independ- ence. that man put in, and then they will make her the most glorious queen in Europe. Where will this end, my Lord ? Is not her Majesty in danger by such a method ? Is not the monarchy in danger? Is not the nation's peace and tranquillity in danger ? Will a change of parties make the nation more happy ? No, my Lord. The seed is sown that is like to af- ford us a perpetual increase. It is not an annual herb, it takes deep root ; it seeds and breeds ; and if not timely prevented by her Majesty's royal endeavors, will split the whole island in two. -\ III. My Lord, I think, considering our pres- ent circumstances at this time, the Almighty God has reserved this great work for us. We may bruise this hydra of division, and crush this cockatrice's egg. Our neighbors in England are not yet fitted for an}' such thing; they are not under the afflicting hand of Providence, as we are. Their circumstances are great and glorious ; their treaties are prudently managed, both at home and abroad ; their generals brave and valorous, their armies successful and victo- rious ; their trophies and laurels memorable and surprising; their enemies subdued and routed, their strongholds besieged and taken. Sieges relieved, marshals killed and taken prisoners, provinces and kingdoms are the results of their victories. Their royal navy is the terror of Europe ; their trade and commerce extended through the universe, encircling the whole hab- itable world, and rendering their own capital city the emporium for the whole inhabitants of the earth.'' And which is yet more than all these things, the subjects freely bestowing their treasure upon their sovereign ; and above all, these vast riches, the sinews of war, and with- out which all the glorious success had proved abortive, these treasures are managed with such faithfulness and nicety, that the}' answer season- ably all their demands, though at never so great a distance. Upon these considerations, my Lord, how hard and difficult a thing will it prove to persuade our neighbors to a self-denying bill. 'Tis quite otherwise with us, my Lord, as we are an obscure poor people, though formerly of better account, removed to a distant corner of the world, without name, and without alliances ; our posts mean and precarious ; so that I pro- fess I don't think any one post in the kingdom worth the briguing [seeking] after, save that of being commissioner to a long session of a fac- tious Scots Parliament, with an antedated com- mission, and that yet renders the rest of the min- isters more miserable.^ What hinders us then. T The battle of Blenheim and other victories of Marlborough bad recently taken place, and bad raised England to the height of her military re- nown, while her naval superiority had been recent- ly established by equally decisive victories at sea. 8 By an act passed near the close of King Will- iam's reign, the duration of the existing Scottish Parliament was to be prolonged for the period of six months after his death. But it did not actually meet, on the accession of dueen Anne, until tiie end 1706.] LEGISLATIVE UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 25 my Lord, to lay aside our divisions, to unite cor- dially and heartily together in our present cir- cumstances, when our all is at stake. Hanni- bal, my Lord, is at our gates — Hannibal is come within our gates — Hannibal is come the length of this table — he is at the foot of the throne. He will demolish the throne, if we take not no- tice. He will seize upon these regalia. He will take them as our spolia opima^^ and whip us out of this house, never to return again. For the love of God, then, my Lord, for the safety and welfare of our ancient kingdom, whose sad circumstances I hope we shall yet convert into prosperity and happiness ! We want no means if we unite. God blessed the peace- makers. We want neither men, nor sufficiency of all manner of things necessai'y to make a na- tion happy. All depends upon management. Concordia res parvce crescunt — small means in- crease by concord. I fear not these Articles, though they were ten times worse than they are, if we once cordially forgive one another, and that according to our proverb, Bygones be bygones, and fair play for time to come. For my part, in the sight of God, and in the presence of this honorable House, I heartily forgive every man, and beg that they may do the same to me. And I do most humbly propose that his Grace my Lord Commissioner may appoint an Agape, may order a Love-feast for this honorable House, that we may lay aside all self-designs, and after our fasts and humiliations, may have a day of re- joicing and thankfulness ; may eat our meat with gladness, and our bread with a merry heart. Then shall we sit each man under his own fig- tree, and the voice of the turtle shall be heard in our land, a bird famous for constancy and fidelity. My Lord, I .shall pause here, and proceed no further in my discourse, till I see if his Grace my Lord Commissioner [Queensbury] will receive any humble pro[!Osals for removing misunder- standings among us, and putting an end to our fatal divisions. Upon my honor, I have no other of nine months. Hence the legality of its assem- bling was denied by the Duke of Hamilton tbe mo- ment it convened; and he, with eighty other mem- bers, withdrew before it was constituted. Queens- bury, however, proceeded, as Higb Commissioner, to open Parliament. This, undoubtedly, is the trans- action here alluded to. The commission under whicli be acted was dated back, probably, within the six months prescribed ; and lience the sneer about " an antedated commission." Violent animosities were created by this procedure. ' The spolia opima, or " richest spoils" of war among the Romans, consisted, according to Livy, of the armor and trappings which a supreme com- mander had stripped, on the field of battle, from the leader of the foe. Plutarch says that, down to his time, only three examples of this hind had occurred in Roman history. The image is, therefore, a very striking one, representing Scotland as prostrate, and stripped of her regalia (objects of almost supersti- tious veneration to the people), which would be borne off by England as her spolia opima, to grace her triumph. design ; and I am content to beg the favor upon my bended knees. '° No answer. My Lord Chancellor, 1 am sorry that I must pursue the thread of my sad and melancholy story. What remains is more afflictive than what I have already said. Allow me, then, to make this meditation — that if our posterity, after we are all dead and gone, shajl find themselves under an ill-made bargain, and shall have re- course to our records for the names of the man- agers who made that treaty by which they have suffered so much, they will certainly exclaim, '■ Our nation must have been reduced to the last extremity at the time of this treaty ! All our great chieftains, all our noble peers, who once defended the rights and liberties of the nation, must have been killed, and lying dead on the bed of honor, before the nation could ever condescend to such mean and contemptible terms ! Where were the great men of the noble families — the Stewarts, Hamiltons, Grahams, Campbells, John- stons, Murrays, Homes, Kers ? Where were the two great officers of the Crown, the Consta- ble and the Marischal of Scotland ? Certainly all were extinguished, and now ice are slaves for- ever P' But the English records — how will they make their posterity reverence the names of those illus- trious men who made that treaty, and forever brought under those fierce, warlike, and trouble- some neighbors who had struggled so long for independency, shed the best blood of their nation, and reduced a considerable part of their coun- try to become waste and desolate ! I see the English Constitution remaining firm — the same two houses of Parliament ; the same faxes, customs, and excise ; the same trade in companies ; the same municipal laws ; while all ours are either subjected to new regulations, or annihilated forever ! And for what? Only that we may have the honor to pay their old debts ; and may have some few persons present [in Par- liament] as witnesses to the validity of the deed, when they are pleased to contract more ! Good God! What? Is this an entii-e sur- render? My Lord, I find my heart so full of grief and indignation, that I must beg pardon not to finish the last part of my discourse ; but pause that I may drop a tear as the prelude to so sad a story ! This fervent appeal had no effect. The Treaty of Union was ratified by a majority of thirty-three out of two hundred and one mem- bers. That it was carried by bribery is now matter of history. Documents have been brought to light, showing that the sum of o€20,000 was sent to Queensbury for this purpose by the En- glish ministers ; and the names of those to whom tlie money was paid, belonging chiefly to the Squadrone, are given in full. '" Lord Brougham, it seems from this passage, was not witliout precedent, when he sunk on his knees before the House of Lords, in urging the adoption of the Reform Bill. 26 LORD BELHAVEN AGAINST THE UNION, ETC. [1706. The fate of Belhaven was a melancholy one. He submitted quietly to what he considered the ruin and dishonor of his country. Two years after, a French fleet, with the Pretender on board, appeared off the coast of Scotland, and menaced an invasion of the country. The gov- ernment was thrown into the utmost disorder : and though the fleet withdrew without venturing on the proposed descent, numerous arrests were made of suspected persons. Among these were Belhaven and others who had opposed the Union. Without a particle of proof against him, he was dragged to London. At the end of some weeks, however, he was released ; but expired almost immediately after, of grief and indignation at this unworthy treatment. ^^ The evils anticipated b}' Lord Belhaven, and depicted in such glowing colors, never actually occurred. Nor were the benefits of the Union so immediate or great as were anticipated by its friends. The nation remained for a long time in an angry and mutinous state. Two rebellions Lains, iv., 375. took place in behalf of the Stuart familj'^, one in 1715, and the other in 1745. It became at length apparent that the worst evils of Scotland arose from her system of clanship ; which divid- ed most of the country, especially the Highlands, into numerous small sovereignties, with the right of "pit and gallows," or imprisonment and death, under the name of " heritable jurisdic- tions." The course of justice was thus effectu- ally impeded ; and a large part of Scotland was kept in a state of perpetual disorder by the jeal- ousies and contentions of rival clans. Tmrne- diately after the rebellion of 1745, the right of " heritable jurisdiction" was abolished by an act of Parliament, and the whole kingdom brought under the control of the same courts. " From the time that this act came into full operation," says Lord Campbell, '' and not from the Union commences the prosperity of Scotland ; which having been the idlest, poorest, and most turbu- lent country in Europe, has become one of the most industrious, the most improving, and most, orderly." — ^ SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. The administration of Walpole was the longest wliich has occurred since the days of dueen Elizabeth. He was probably the most dexterous party leader which En- gland ever had ; " equally skilled to win popular favor, to govern the House of Com- mons, and to influence and be influenced by public opinion." Descended from an ancient and respectable family, he was born at Houghton, in Norfolkshire, on the 26th day of August, 1676. Part of his boyhood was spent at Eton, and he was for two years a member of the University of Cambridge ; but in neither of these places did he give any indications of superior talents. In early life he was remarkable for nothing but his high spirits and dislike of study. The only benefit he seems to have obtained from his early education, was a facility which he acquired at Eton of conversing in Latin. This became to him afterward an important instrument of power. George I. could speak no English, and Walpole no German : so they compromised the matter when he was made Prime Minister ; and all the communications between him and his master, involving the highest in- terests of the kingdom, were carried on in " very bad Latin." The first impulse given to the mind of Walpole arose from his being elected a member of Parliament at the age of twenty-four. A vein was now struck which laid open the master principle of his character. It was a spirit of intense ambition. From this moment he laid aside all his sluggishness and love of ease ; he threw himself at once into the arena of political strife ; and the whole cast of his mind and feelings, as well as the character of the times, went to secure his early ascendency. He had naturally great force and penetration of intellect ; a clear judgment ; a dauntless spirit ; a thorough knowledge of human nature, especially on its weak side ; infinite dexterity in carrying on or counteracting political intrigues ; a self-possession which never forsook him in the most trying circumstances ; and a perfectly unscrupu- lous freedom in the adoption of every means that seemed necessary to the accomplish- ment of his designs. The only acquired knowledge which he brought with him into public life, was a thorough acquaintance with finance. It was precisely the knowl- edge that was needed at that juncture ; and it laid the foundation, at no distant pe- riod, of the long and almost despotic sway which he exercised over English affairs. On taking his seat in Parhament, in 1710, he joined himself to the Whig party, and was almost immediately brought into office as Secretary at War. Thrown out soon after by a change of ministry, which arose from the silly prosecution of Sa- cheverell, he was restored to office in 1714, when the Whigs came into power under George I. From this time, for nearly thirty years, he was an active member of the government, during twenty of which he was Prime Minister. To this office he was called, by general consent, in 1721, on the explosion of the South Sea project, which filled the whole island with consternation and ruin.t He had opposed the scheme and predicted its failure from the outset, though he had the sagacity to profit largely by speculating in the stock ; and now that his predictions were fulfilled, every eye was turned to Walpole, as the only one fitted, by his financial skill, to repair the shat- tered credit of the country. He was made First Lord of the Treasury, and Chan- cellor of the Exchequer, on the second of April, 1721. Walpole had now reached the summit of his ambition; and if he had only been .4-4^' .*v^.. -5 ^l^^ ^ i/W-^' * Spain now turned her resentment against En- gland, and settled her differences with the Emperor of Germany on terms so favorable to the latter, as to awaken suspicions (which were confirmed by se- cret intelligence) that some hidden compact had been made, for conjointly attacking the dominions of England. To counteract this, England, in 1725, united with France, Prussia, Denmark, and Holland, in an opposing league, by a compact called the treaty of Hanover, from the place where it was made. The evidence of these facts could not then be brought forward to defend the ministry ; and hence the treaty of Hanover, and the consequent expenditures on the Continent, were extremely un- popular in England. But subsequent disclosures have made it nearly or quite certain, that every thing here alleged by Walpole was strictly true. i 1741.] ADDRESSING THE KING FOR HIS REMOVAL. 39 and the Emperor joined together, to have invaded or made themselves masters of any of the Brit- ish dominions. But will it be said they might not have invaded the King's dominions in Ger- many, in order to force him to a compliance with what they desired of him as King of Great Brit- ain ■? And if those dominions had been invaded , on account of a quarrel with this nation, should i we not have been obliged, both in honor and in- ■ terest, to defend them ? When we were thus threatened, it was therefore absolutely necessary for us to make an alliance with France ; and that we might not trust too much to their assist- ance, it was likewise necessary to form allian- ces with the northern powers, and with some of the princes in Germany, which we never did, nor ever could do, without granting them imme- diate subsidies. These measures were, there- fore, I still think, not only prudent, but necessa- ry ; and by these measures we made it much more dangerous for the Emperor and Spain to attack us, than it would otherwise have been. But still, sir, though by these alliances we put ourselves upon an equal footing with our ene- mies in case of an attack, yet, in order to pre- serve the tranquillity of Europe as well as our own, there was something else to be done. We knew that war could not be begun and carried on without money ; we knew that the Emperor had no money for that purpose vi'ithout receiving large remittances from Spain ; and we knew that Spain could make no such remittances without receiving large returns of ti'casure from the West Indies. The only way, therefore, to render these two powers incapable of disturbing the tranquil- lity of Europe, was by sending a squadron to the W^est Indies to stop the return of the Spanish galleons ; and this made it necessar}'^, at the same time, to send a squadron to the Mediter- ranean for the security of our valuable posses- sions in that part of the world. By these meas- ures the Emperor saw the impossibility of at- tacking us in any part of the world, because Spain could give him no assistance either in money or ti-oops ; and the attack made by the Spaniards upon Gibraltar was so feeble, that we had no occasion to call upon our allies for assist- ance. A small squadron of our own prevented their attacking it by sea, and from their attack by land we had nothing to fear. They might have knocked their brains out against inaccessi- ble rocks to this very day, without bringing that '.fortress into any danger. I do not pretend, sir, to be a great master of foreign affairs. In that post in which I have the honor to serve his Majesty, it is not ray business to interfere ; and as one of his Majesty's council, I have but one voice. But if I had been the sole adviser of the treaty of Hanover, and of all the measures which were taken in pursuance of it, from what I have said I hope it will appear that 1 do not deserve to be censured either as a weak or a wicked minister on that account. The next measures which incurred censure were the guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanction by the second treaty of Vienna, and the refusal of the cabinet to assist the house of Austria, in conformity with the articles of that guarantee.^ As to the guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanc- tion, I am really surprised to find that measure objected to. It was so universally approved of, both within doors and without, that till this very day I think no fault was ever found with it, un- less it was that of being too long delayed. If it was so necessary for supporting the balance of power in Europe, as has been insisted on in this debate, to preserve entire the dominions of the house of Austria, surely it was not our busi- ness to insist upon a partition of them in favor of any of the princes of the empire. But if we had, could we have expected that the house of Austria would have agreed to any such partition, even for the acquisition of our guarantee ? The King of Prussia had, it is true, a claim upon some lordships in Silesia; but that claim was absolutely denied by the coui't of Vienna, and was not at that time so much insisted on by the late King of Prussia. Nay, if he had lived till this time, I believe it would not now have been insisted on ; for he acceded to that guarantee without any reservation of that claim ; therefore I must look upon this as an objection which has since arisen from an accident that could not then be foreseen or provided against. I must therefore think, sii-, that our guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanction, or our manner of do- ing it, can not now be objected to, nor any per- son censured by Parliament for advising that measure. In regard to the refusal of the cab- inet to assist the house of Austria, though it was prudent and right in us to enter into that guar- antee, we were not therefoi-e obliged to enter into every broil the house of Austria might after- ward lead themselves into. And therefore, we were not in honor obliged to take any share in the war which the Emperor brought upon him- self in the year 1733 ; nor were we in interest obliged to take a share in that war as long as neither side attempted to push their conquests farther than was consistent with the balance of power in Europe, which was a case that did not happen. For the power of the house of Aus- tria was not diminished by the event of that war, because they got Tuscany, Parma, and Placen- tia in lieu of Naples and Sicily ; nor was the power of France much increased, because Lor- 5 Charles VI., emperor of Germany, having no male issue, made an instrument called a Pragmatic Sanction, by v^'hich all his hereditary estates were to devolve on his female descendants. To give this instrument greater force, he induced nearly all the powers of Europe (and England among the rest, for reasons assigned by Walpole) to unite in a guar- antee for carrying it into effect. But this, although designed to secure Austria against a partition be- tween various claimants, in case of his death, was certainly not intended to pledge England or any other power to interfere in all the quarrels in which the Emperor might engage. When he became in- volved in war with France, therefore, in 1733, by supporting Augustus for the vacant throne of Po- land, against the remonsti-ances of Walpole, the lat- ter was under no obligation to afford him aid. / 40 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE ON [1741. raine was a province she had taken and kept possession of during every war in which she had been engaged. As to the disputes with Spain, they had not then reached such a height as to make it neces- sary for us to come to an open rupture. We had then reason to hope, that all differences would be accommodated in an amicable manner ; and while we have any such hopes, it can never be prudent for us to engage ourselves in war, espe- cially with Spain, where we have always had a very beneficial commerce. These hopes, it is true, sir, at last proved abortive ; but I never heard it was a crime to hope for the best. This sort of hope was the cause of the late Conven- tion. If Spain had performed her part of that preliminary treat}', I am sure it would not have been wrong in us to have hoped for a friendly accommodation ; and for that end to have waited nine or ten months longer, in which time the plenipotentiaries were, by the treaty, to have adjusted all the differences subsisting between the two nations. But the failure of Spain in performing what had been agreed to by this preliminary, put an end to all our hopes, and then, and not till then, it became pi'udent to en- ter into hostilities, which were commenced as soon as possible after the expiration of the term limited for the payment of the c£95,000.^ Strong and virulent censures have been cast on me for having commenced the war without a single ally ; and this deficiency has been ascrib- ed to the multifarious treaties in which I have bewildered myself. But although the authors of this imputation are well apprised, that all these treaties have been submitted to and ap- proved by Parliament, yet they are now brought forward as crimes, without appealing to the judg- ment of Parliament, and without proving or de- claring that all or any of Jiem were advised by me. A supposed sole minister is to be condemn- ed and punished as the author of all ; and what adds to the enormity is, that an attempt was made to convict him uncharged and unheard, without taking into consideration the most ar- duous -crisis which ever occurred in the annals of Europe. Sweden corrupted by France-^; Den- mark tempted and wavering^^ the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel almost gained ; the King of Prus- sia, the Emperor, and the Czarina, with whom alliances had been negotiating, dead ; the Aus- trian dominions claimed by Spain and Bavaria ; the Elector of Saxony hesitating whether he should accede to the general confederacy plan- ned by France ; the court of Vienna irresolute and indecisive. In this critical juncture, if France enters into engagements with Prussia, and if the Queen of Hungary hesitates and listens to France, are all or any of those events to be imputed to ^ This is the only point on which Walpole is tame and weak. It is exactly the point where, if he had acted a manly part eighteen months before, his de- fense would have been most triumphant. He knew there was no ground for a war with Spain ; and he ought to have held to the truth on that point, even at the sacrifice of his officeNi^ English counsels ?^ And if to English counsels^ why are they to be attributed to one man ? n. I now come, sir, to the second head, the conduct of domestic affairs. And here a most heinous charge is made, that the nation has been burdened with unnecessary expenses, for the sole purpose of preventing the discharge of our debts and the abolition of taxes. But this attack is more to the dishonor of the whole cabinet coun- cil than to me. If there is any ground for this imputation, it is a charge upon King, Lords, and Commons, as corrupted, or imposed upon. And they have no proof of these allegations, but affect to substantiate them by common fame and public notoriety ! No expense has been incurred but \vhat_has been approved of, and provided for, by Parlia- ment. The public treasure has been duly ap- plied to the uses to which it was appropriated by Parliament, and regular accounts have been annually laid before Parliament, of every article of expense. If by foreign accidents, by the dis- putes of foreign states among themselves, or by their designs against ns, the nation has often been put to an extraordinary expense, that ex- pense can not be said to have been unnecessary ; because, if by saving it we had exposed the bal- ance of power to danger, or ourselves to an at- tack, it would have cost, perhaps, a hundred times that sum before we could recover from that danger, or repel that attack. In all such cases there will be a variety of opinions. I happened to be one of those who thought all these expenses necessary, and I had[ the good fortune to have the majority of both houses of Parliament on my side. But this, it seems, proceeded from bribery and corruption. Sir, if any one instance had been mentioned, if it had been shown that I ever offered a reward to any member of either House, or ever threat- ened to deprive any member of his office or em- ployment, in order to influence his vote in Par- liament, there might have been some ground for this charge. But when it is so generally laid, I do not know what I can say to it, unless it be to deny it as generally and as positively as it has ■^ This "critical juncture" was occasioned by the recent death of the Emperor Charles VI. Under the Pragmatic Sanction, his Austrian possessions fell to his daughter Maria Theresa, queen of Hungary; but were claimed in part by Spain, though chiefly by the Elector of Bavaria, supported by France. Frederick of Prussia, afterward called the Great, who had just succeeded his father, was fluctuating between France and the Q,ueen ; but off'ered to sup- port the latter if she vi'ould cede to him Silesia. Walpole, who wished to defeat the plans of France, advised her to yield to this demand, though unjust, and thus prevent a general war. Her ministers were weak and irresolute, and the aff*airs of Europe were in utter confusion. The proud spirit of the Queen soon decided the question. She refused the surren- der of Silesia, was attacked by Frederick and the French, and was on the brink of ruin; when she made, seven months after this speech was deliver- ed, her celebrated appeal for support to the Diet of Hungary', by which, in the words of Johnson, "The dueen, the Beauty, set the world in arms." ADDRESSING THE KING FOR HIS REMOVAL. 1741.] been asserted. And, thank God ! till some proof be offered, I have the laws of the land, as well as the laws of charity, in my favor. Some members of both Houses have, it is true, been removed from their employments under the Crown ; but were they ever told, either by me, or by any other of his Majesty's sei-vants, that it was for opposing the measures of the adminis- tration in Parliament ? They were removed because his Majesty did not think fit to continue them longer in his service. His Majesty had a right so to do ; and I know no one that has a right to ask him, " What doest thou ?" If his Majesty had a mind that the favors of the Crown should circulate, would not this of itself be a good reason for removing any of his servants ? Would not this reason be approved of by the whole nation, except those who happen to be the present possessors ? I can not, therefore, see how this can be imputed as a crime, or how any of the King's ministers can be blamed for his doing what the public has no concern in ; for if the public be well and faithfully served, it has no business to ask by whom. As to the particular charge urged against me, I mean that of the army debentures, I am sur- prised, sir, to hear any thing relating to this affair charged upon me. Whatever blame may at- tach to this affair, it must be placed to the ac- count of those that were in power when I was, as they call it, the country gentleman.^ It was by them this affair was introduced and conduct- ed, and I came in only to pay off those public securities, which their management had reduced to a great discount ; and consequently to redeem our public credit from that reproach which they had brought upon it. The discount at which these army debentures were negotiated, was a strong and prevalent reason wnth Parliament to apply the sinking fund first to the payment of those debentures ; but the sinking fund could not be applied to that purpose till it began to produce something considerable, which was not till the year 1727. That the sinking fund was then to receive a great addition, was a fact pub- licly known in 1726 ; and if some people were sufficiently quick-sighted to foresee that the Par- liament would probably make this use of it, and cunning enough to make the most of their own foresight, could I help it, or could they be blamed for doing so? But I defy my most inveterate enemy to pi-ove that I had any hand in bringing these debentures to a discount, or that I had any share in the profits by buying them up. Li reply to those who confidently assert that the national debt is not decreased since 1727, and that the sinking fund has not been applied to the discharge of the public burdens, I can with truth declare, that a part of the debt has been paid off; and the landed interest has been very much eased with respect to that most un- equal and grievous burden, the land tax. I say so, sir, because upon examination it will appear, that within these sixteen or seventeen years, no 41 8 One who held himself bound to neither party. less than ^£8, 000, 000 of our debt has been act- ually discharged, by the due application of the sinking fund ; and at least 667,000,000 has been taken from that fund, and applied to the ease of the land tax. For if it had not been applied to the current service, we must have supplied that service by increasing the land tax ; and as the sinking fund was originally designed for paying off our debts, and easing us of our taxes, the ap- plication of it in ease of the land tax, was cer- tainly as proper and necessary a use as could be made. And I little thought that giving, relief to landed gentlemen, would have been brought against me as a crime.^ III. I shall now advert to the third topic of accusation : the conduct of the war. I have al- ready stated in what manner, and under what circumstances, hostilities commenced ; and as I am neither general nor admiral — as I have noth- ing to do either with our navy or army — I am sure I am not answerable for the prosecution of it. But were I to answer for every thing, no fault could, I think, be found with my conduct in the prosecution of the war. It has from the be- ginning been carried on with as much vigor, and as great care of our trade, as was consistent with our safety at home, and with the circum- stances we were in at the beginning of the war. If our attacks upon the enemy were too long de- layed, or if they have not been so vigorous or so frequent as they ought to have been, those only are to blame who have for many years been ha- ranguing against standing armies ; for, without a sufficient number of regular troops in propor- tion to the numbers kept up by our neighbors, I am sure we can neither defend ourselves nor offend our enemies. On the supposed miscar- riages of the war, so unfairly stated, and so un- justly imputed to me, I could, with great ease, frame an incontrovertible defense. But as I have trespassed so long on the time of the House, I shall not weaken the effect of that forcible ex- culpation, so generously and disinterestedly ad- vanced by the right honorable gentleman who so meritoriously presides at the Admiralty. If my whole administration is to be scrutinized and arraigned, why are the most favorable parts to be omitted ? If facts are to be accumulated on one side, why not on the other ? And why 9 HereWalpole dexterously avoids the main point of the difficulty. In 1717, it was provided by law that all the surplus income of the government should be converted into what was called the Sinking Fund, which was to be used for paying off the pub- lic debt. This principle was strictly adhered to down to 1729, when more than a million of this fund was used for current expenses, instead of laying taxes to meet them. The same thing was done in six other instances, under Walpole's administra- tion. Now it is true, as Walpole says, that by thus applying the fund, he lessened the land tax. Still, it was a perversion of the fund from its original de- sign ; and if the taxes had been uniformly laid for all current expenses, and the fund been faithfully applied to its original purpose, the debt (small as it then was) might perhaps have wholly been extin- guished. 42 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE ON ADDRESSING THE KING, ETC. may not I be permitted to speak in my own fa- vor ? Was I not called by the voice of the King and the nation to remedy the fatal effects of the South Sea project, and to support declining cred- it ■? Was I not placed at the head of the treas- ury when the revenues were in the greatest con- fusion ? Is credit revived, and docs it now flour- ish ? Is it not at an incredible height, and if so, to whom must that circumstance be attributed '? Has not tranquillity been preserved both at home and abroad, notwithstanding a most un- reasonable and violent opposition ? Has the true interest of the nation been pursued, or has trade flourished ? Have gentlemen produced one in- stance of this exorbitant power ; of the influence which I extend to all parts of the nation ; of the tyranny with which I oppress those who oppose, and the liberality with which I reward those who support me ? But having first invested me with a kind of mock dignity, and styled me a prime minister, they impute to me an unpardon- able abuse of that chimerical authority which they only have created and conferred. If they are really persuaded that the army is annually establi.>>hed by me, that I have the sole disposal of posts and honors, that I employ this power in the destruction of liberty and the diminution of commerce, let me awaken them from their de- lusion. Let me expose to their view" the real condition of the public weal. Let me show them that the Crown has made no enci'oachments, that all supplies have been granted by Parliament, that all questions have been debated with the same freedom as before the fatal period in which my counsels are said to have gained the ascend- ency ; an ascendency from which they deduce the loss of trade, the approach of slavery, the preponderance of prerogative, and the extension of influence. But I am far from believing that they feel those appi-ehensions which they so earn- estly labor to communicate to others ; and I have too high an opinion of their sagacity not to conclude that, even in their own judgment, they are complaining of grievances that they do not suffer, and promoting rather their private inter- est than that of the public. What is this unbounded sole power which is imputed to me ? How has it discovered itself, or how has it been proved ? What have been the effects of the corruption, ambition, and avarice wnth which I am so abund- antly charged ? Have I ever been suspected of being corrupt- ed ? A strange phenomenon, a corrupter him- self not corrupt ! Is ambition imputed to me ? Why then do I still continue a commoner ? I, who refused a white statf and a peerage. I had, indeed, like to have forgotten the little ornament about my shoulders [the garter], which gentle- men have so repeatedly mentioned in terms of sarcastic obloquy. But surely, though this may be regarded with envy or indignation in another place, it can not be supposed to raise any resent- ment in this House, where many may be pleased to see those honors which their ancestors have worn, restored again to the Commons. ! Have I given any symptoms of an avaricious disposition ? Have I obtained any grants fron^ the Crown, since I have been placed at the head of the treasury ? Has my conduct been differ-) ent from that which others in the same station^ would have followed ? Have I acted wi'ong in\ giving the place of auditor to my son, and iji providing for my own family ? I trust that their/ advancement will not be imputed to me as 4 crime, unless it shall be proved that I placed^ them in offices of trust and responsibility for^ which they were unfit. But while I unequivocally deny that I am sole and prime minister, and that to my influence and direction all the measures of the government must be attributed, yet I will not shrink from the responsibility which attaches to the post I have the honor to hold ; and should, during the long period in which I have sat upon this bench, any one step taken by jjovernment be proved to be either disgraceful or disadvantageous to the nation, I am ready to hold myself accountable. To conclude, sir, though I shall always be proud of the honor of any trust or confidence from his Majesty, yet I shall always be ready to remove from his councils and presence when he thinks fit ; and therefore I should think myself very little concerned in the event of the present question, if it were not for the encroachment that will thereby be made upon the prerogatives of the Crown. But I must think that an address to his Majesty to remove one of his servants, with- out so much as alleging any particular crime against him, is one of the greatest encroachments that was ever made upon the prerogatives of the Crown. And therefore, for the sake of my mas- ter, without any regard for my own, I hope all those that have a due regard for our constitution, and for the rights and prerogatives of the Crown, without which our constitution can not be pre* served, will be against this motion. This speech had a great effect. The motiofi^^ for an address was negatived by a large majority. \ But the advantage thus gained was only tem- ; porary. A spirit of disaffection had spread throughout the kingdom ; and the next eled* tions, which took place a few months after, showed that the power and influence of Walpole were on the decline. Still he clung to office; with a more desperate grasp than ever. He- used some of the most extraordinary expedients ever adopted by a minister, to divide the Oppo- sition and retain his power. He even opened a negotiation with the Pretender at Rome, to ob- tain the support of the Jacobites. But his ef*. forts were in vain. He lost his majority in the\ House ; he was compelled to inform the King that he could no longer administer the govern- - mcnt ; he was created Earl of Orford with a pension of c£4000 a year, and resigned all his offices on the 11th of February, 1742. y MR. PULTENEY. William Pulteney, first Earl of Bath, was born in 1682. He was elected a member of Parliament in early life, and applied himself to the diligent study of the temper of the House, and the best mode of speaking in so mixed and discordant an assembly. He made no attempts to dazzle by any elaborate display of elo- quence ; for it was his maxim, that " there are few real orators who commence with set speeches." His powers were slowly developed. He took part in almost every important debate, more (at first) for his own improvement than with any expectation of materially changing the vote. He thus gradually rose into one of the most dexterous and effective speakers of the British Senate. His speeches, unfortunately, have been worse reported, in respect to the peculiar characteristics of his eloquence, than those of any of his contemporaries. The fol- lowing one, however, though shorter than might be wished, is undoubtedly a fair specimen of the bold, direct, and confident, though not overbearing manner, in which he ordinarily addressed himself to the judgment and feelings of the House. The language is uncommonly easy, pointed, and vigorous. The sentences flow lightly off in a clear and varied sequence, without the slightest appearance of stateliness or mannerism. It is the exact style for that conversational mode of discussion which is best adapted to the purposes of debate. Walpole, when displaced by the exertions of Pulteney in 1742, had the satisfaction of dragging down his adversary along with him. He saAV that the Opposition must go to pieces the moment they were left to themselves ; that a new administration could never be framed out of such discordant materials ; and that whoever should undertake it would be ruined in the attempt. He therefore induced the King to lay that duty upon Pulteney. The result was just what he expected. The King insisted on retaining a large proportion of Walpole's friends. Comparatively few offices re- mained for others, and both Whigs and Tories were disappointed and enraged. Pulte- ney shrunk from taking office himself, under these circumstances. He professed great disinterestedness ; he had no desire for power ; he would merely accept a peerage, which all parties regarded as the reward of his perfidy. He was created Earl of Bath ; and the name of Patriot, as Horace Walpole tells us, became a term of derision and contempt throughout aU the kingdom. When the newly-created earls met for the first time in the House of Lords, Walpole walked up to Pulteney, and said to him, with a mixture of pleasantry and bitterness, for which he was always distinguished, " Here we are, my Lord, the two most insignificant fellows in England." Pulteney died on the 8th of June, 1764. SPEECH OF MR. PULTENEY ON A MOTION FOR REDUCING THE ARMY, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. Sir, — We have heard a great deal about Par- liamentary armies, and about an army continued from year to year. I have always been, sir, and ___^always shall be, against a standing army of any • kind. To me it is a terrible thing, whether un- der that of Parliamentary or any other desio-na- tion. A standing army is still a standing army, whatever name it be called by. They are a body of men distinct from the body of the people ; they ai-e governed by different laws ; and blind obe- dience, and an entire submission to the orders of their commanding officer, is their only principle. 44 MR. PULTENEY ON REDUCING THE ARMY. [1731. The nations around us, sir, are ah-eady enslaved, and have been enslaved by these very means : by means of their standing armies they have ev- ery one lost their liberties. It is indeed impos- sible that the liberties of the people can be pre- served in any country where a numerous stand- ing army is kept up. Shall we, then, take any of our measures from the examples of our neigh- bors ? No, sir, on the conti-ary, from their mis- fortunes we ought to learn to avoid those rocks upon which they have split. It signifies nothing to tell me, that our army is commanded by such gentlemen as can not be supposed to join in any measures for enslaving their country. It may be so. I hope it is so ! I have a very good opinion of many gentlemen now in the army. I believe they would not join in any such measures. But their lives are un- certain, nor can we be sure how long they may be continued in command ; they may be all dis- missed in a moment, and proper tools of power put in their room. Besides, sir, we know the passions of men ; we know how dangerous it is to trust the best of men with too much power. Where was there a braver army than that under Julius Cesar ? Where was there ever an army that had served their country more faithfully ? That army was commanded generally by the best citizens of Rome — by men of great fortune and figure in their country ; yet that army en- slaved their country. The affections of the sol- diers toward their country, the honor and integ- rity of the under officers, are not to be depended on. By the militarj^ law, the administi'ation of just^ice is so quick, and the punishments so se- vere, that neither officer nor soldier dares offer to dispute the orders of his supreme commander; he must not consult his own inclinations. If an officer were commanded to pull his own father out of this House, he must do it ; he dares not disobey ; immediate death would be the sure consequence of the least grumbling. And if an officer were sent into the Court of Requests, ac- companied by a body of musketeers with screw- ed bayonets, and with orders to tell us what we ought to do, and how we were to vote, I know what would be the duty of this House ; I know it would be our duty to order the officer to be taken and hanged up at the door of the lobby. But, sir, I doubt much if such a spirit could be found in the House, or in any House of Com- mons that will ever be in England. Sir, I talk not of imaginary things. I talk of what has happened to an English House of Com- mons, and from an English army ; and not only from an English army, but an army that was raised by that very House of Commons, an army that was paid by them, and an army that was commanded by generals appointed by them. Therefore do not let us vainly imagine that an army raised and maintained by authority of Par- liament will always be submissive to them. If an army be so numerous as to have it in their power to overawe the Parliament, they will be submissive as long as the Parliament does noth- ing to disoblige their favorite general 5 but when that case happens, I am afraid that, in place of Parliament's dismissing the army, the army will dismiss the Parliament, as they have done here- tofore. Nor does the legality or illegality of that Parliament, or of that army, alter the case. For with respect to that ai-my, and according to their way of thinking, the Parliament dismissed by them was a legal Parliament ; they were an army raised and maintained according to law ; and at first they were raised, as they imagined, for the preservation of those liberties which they afterward destroyed. It has been urged, sir, that whoever is for the Protestant succession must be for continuing the army : for that very reason, sir, I am against continuing the army. I know that neither the Protestant succession in his Majesty's most illus- trious house, nor any succession, can ever be safe so long as there is a standing army in the coun- try. Armies, sir, have no regard to hereditary successions. The first two Cesars at Rome did pretty well, and found means to keep their armies in tolerable subjection, because the generals and officers were all their own creatures. But how did it fare with their successors ? Was not ev- ery one of them named by the army, without any regard to hereditary right, or to any right ? A cobbler, a gardener, or any man who hap- pened to raise himself in the army, and could gain their affections, was made Emperor of the world. Was not every succeeding Emperor raised to the throne, or tumbled headlong into the dust, according to the mere whim or mad phrensy of the soldiers ? We are told this army is desired to be contin- ued but for one year longer, or for a limited term of years. How absurd is this distinction ! Is there any army in the world continued for any term of years ? Does the most absolute mon- arch tell his army, that he is to continue them any number of years, or any number of months? How long have we already continued our army from year to year? And if it thus continues, wherein will it differ from the standing armies of those countries which have already submitted their necks to the )'oke ? We are now co^ne to the Rubicon. Our army is now to be reduced, or never will. From his Majesty's own mouth we are assured of a profound tranquillity abroad, and we know there is one at home. If this is not a proper time, if these circumstances do not afford us a safe opportunity for reducing at least a part of our I'egular forces, we never can ex- pect to see any reduction. This nation, already overburdened with debts and taxes, must be load- ed with the heavy charge of perpetually support- ing a numerous standing army ; and remain for- ever exposed to the danger of having its liberties and privileges trampled upon by any future king or ministry, who shall take in their head to do so, and shall take a proper care to model the army for that purpose. .-^ The bill for continuing the army on the same footing was passed by a large majority. LORD CHESTERFIELD. Philip Dormer Stanhope, fourth Earl of Chesterfield, was born in 1694. He was equally distinguished for his love of polite literature, the grace of his manners, the pungency of his wit, and the elegance of his literary productions. In later times he has been most known by his Letters to his Son. These, though admirable models of the epistolary style, are disfigured by a profligacy of sentiment which has cast a just odium on his character ; while the stress they lay upon mere accomplish- ments has created a very natural suspicion, among those who have seen him only in that correspondence, as to the strength and soundness of his judgment. He was un- questionably, however, a man of great acuteness and force of intellect. As an ora- tor, Horace Walpole gave him the preference over all the speakers of his day. This may have arisen, in part, from the peculiar dexterity with which he could play with a subject that he did not choose to discuss — a kind of talent which Walpole would be very apt to appreciate. It often happens that weak and foolish measures can he exposed more effectually by wit than by reasoning. In this kind of attack Lord Chesterfield had uncommon power. His fancy supplied him with a wide range of materials, which he brought forward with great ingenuity, presenting a succession of unexpected combinations, that flashed upon the mind with all the hveliness and force of the keenest wit or the most poignant satire. The speech which follows is a specimen of his talent for this kind of speaking. " It will be read with avidity by those who relish the sprightly sallies of genius, or who are emulous of a style of el- ojjuence which, though it may not always convince, will never fail to delight." ^ The speech relates to a bill for granting licenses to gin-shops, by which the min- istry hoped to realize a very large annual income. This income they proposed to employ in carrj^ing on the German war of George II., which arose out of his exclu- sive care for his Electorate of Hanover, and was generally odious throughout Great Britain. Lord Chesterfield made two speeches on this subject, which are here given together, with the omission of a few unimportant paragraphs. It has been hastily inferred, from a conversation reported by Boswell, that these speeches, as here given, were written by Johnson. Subsequent inquiry, however, seems to prove that this was not the fact ; but, on the contrary, that Lord Chesterfield prepared ^ them for publication himself. ^' Lord Chesterfield filled many offices of the highest importance under the reign of George II. In 1728 he was appointed embassador to Holland ; and, by his adroit- ness and diplomatic skill, succeeded in delivering HandveFfrom the calamities of war which hung over it. \ As a reward for his services, he was made Knight of the Garter and Lord Steward of the Royal Household. At a later period he was ap- pointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. This difficult office he discharged with great dexterity and self-command, holding in check the various factions of that country with consummate skill. On his return to England in 1746, he was called to the office of Secretary of State ; but, having become wearied of public employments, he soon resigned, and devoted the remainder of his life to the pursuits of literature and the society of his friends. He now carried on the publication of a series of papers in imitation of the Spectator, entitled the World, in which some of the best specimens may be found of his fight, animated, and easy style of writing. Toward the close of his life he became deaf, and suffered from numerous bodily infirmities, which filled his latter days with gloom and despondency. He bore the most emphatic testimony to the folly and disappointment of the course he had led, and died in 1773, at the age of seventy-nine. SPEECH OF LORD CHESTERFIELD ON THE GIN ACT, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, FEBRUARY 21, 1743. The bill now under our consideration appeai-s to me to deserve a much closer regard than seems to have been paid to it in the other House, through which it was hurried with the utmost precipitation, and where it passed almost with- out the formality of a debate. Nor can I think that earnestness with which some lords seem in- clined to press it forward here, consistent with the importance of the consequences which may with great reason be expected from it. To desire, my Lords, that this bill may be con- sidered in a committee, is only to desire that it may gain one step without opposition ; that it may proceed through the forms of the House by stealth, and that the consideration of it may be delayed, till the exigences of the government shall be so great as not to allow time for raising the supplies by any other method. By this artifice, gross as it is, the patrons of this wonderful bill hope to obstruct a plain and open detection of its tendency. They hope, my Lords, that the bill shall operate in the same manner with the liquor which it is intended to bring into more general use ; and that, as those who drink spirits are drunk before they are well aware that they are drinking, the effects of this law shall be perceived before we know that we have made it. (Their intent is, to give us a dram of policy, which is to be swallowed before it is tasted, and which, when once it is swallow- ed, will turn our heads. But, my Lords, I hope we shall be so cautious as to examine the draught which these state em- pirics have thought proper to offer us ; and I am confident that a very little examination will con- vince us of the pernicious qualities of their new preparation, and show that it can have no other effect than that of poisoning the public. The law before us, my Lords, seems to be the effect of that practice of which it is intended likewise to be the cause, and to be dictated by the liquor of which it so effectually promotes the use ; for surely it never before was conceiv- ed, by any man intrusted with the administra- tion of public affairs, to raise taxes by the de- struction of the people.. Nothing, my Lords, but the destruction of all the most laborious and useful part of the nation can be expected from the license which is now proposed to be given, not only to drunkenness, but to drunkenness of the most detestable and dangerous kind ; to the abuse not only of intox- icating, but of poisonous liquors. Nothing, my Lords, is more absurd than to assert that the use of spirits will be hindered by the bill now before us, or indeed that it will not be in a very great degree promoted by it. For what produces all kind of wickedness but the prospect of impunity on one pai't, or the so- licitation of opportunity on the other? Either of these have too frequently been sufficient to overpower the sense of morality, and even of religion ; and what is not to be feared from them, when they shall unite their force, and operate together, when temptations shall be increased, and terror taken away ? It is allowed, by those who have hitherto dis- puted on either side of this question, that the people appear obstinately enamored of this new liquor. It is allowed on both parts that this liquor corrupts the mind and enervates the body, and destroys vigor and virtue, at the same time that it makes those who drink it too idle and fee- ble for work ; and, while it impoverishes them by the present expense, disables them from re- trieving its ill consequences by subsequent Indus- It might be imagined, my Lords, that those who had thus far agreed would not easily find any occasions of dispute. Nor would any man, unacquainted with the motives by which parlia- mentary debates are too often influenced, sus- pect that after the pernicious qualities of this liquor, and the general inclination among the people to the immoderate use of it, had been thus fully admitted, it could be afterward in- quired whether it ought to be made more com- mon ; whether this universal thirst for poison ought to be encouraged by the Legislature, and whether a new statut-. ought to be made, to se- cure drunkards in the gratification of their appe- 'tps. ■;*To pretend, my Lords, that the design of this bill is to prevent or diminish the use of spirits, is to trample upon common sense, and to violate the rules of decency as well as of reason. (JFor when did any man hear that a commodity was prohibited by licensing its sale, or that to offer and refuse is the same action? It is indeed pleaded that it will be made \^ dearer by the tax which is proposed, and that the increase of the price will diminish the num- ber of the purchasers ; but it is at the same time expected that this tax shall supply the expense of a war on the Continent. It is asserted, there- fore, that the consumption of spirits will be hin- dered ; and yet that it will be such as may be ex- pected to furnish, from a very small tax, a rev- enue sufficient for the support of armies, for the re-establishment of the Austrian family, and the repressing of the attempts of Finance. Surely, my Lords, these expectations are not y ^ 1743] LORD CHESTERFIELD AGAINST LICENSING GIN-SHOPS. 47 very consistent ; nor can it be imagined tiiat they are both formed in the same head, though they may be expressed by the same mouth. It is, however, some recommendation of a statesman, when, of his assertions, one can be found reason- able or true ; and in this, praise can not be de- nied to our present ministers. For though it is undoubtedly false that this tax will lessen the consumption of spirits, it is certainly true that it will produce a very large revenue — a revenue that will not fail but with the people from whose debaucheries it arises. ( Our ninisters will therefore have the same hoiior with their predecessors, of having given rise to a new fund ; not indeed for the payment of our debts, but for much moi-e valuable pur- poses ; for the cheering of our hearts under op- pression, and for the ready support of those debts which we have lost all hopes of paying. They are resolved, my Lords, that the nation which no endeavors can make wise, shall, while they are at its head, at least be very merry ; and, since pub- lic happiness is the end of government, they seem to imagine that the}'^ shall deserve applause by an expedient which will enable every man to lay his cares asleep, to drown sorrow, and lose in the delights of drunkenness both the public mis- eries and his own. Luxury, my Lords, is to be taxed, but vice prohibited, let the difficulties in executing the law be what they will. Would you lay a tax on the breach of the ten commandments ? Would not such a tax be wicked and scandalous ; be- cause it would imply an indulgence to all those who could pay the tax ? Is not this a repi'oach most justly thrown by Protestants upon the Church of Rome ? Was it not the chief cause of the Ref- ormation? And will you follow a precedent which brought reproach and ruin upon those that introduced it ? This is the very case now before us. You are going to lay a tax, and consequent- ly to indulge a sort of drunkenness, which almost necessarily produces a breach of every one of the ten commandments ? Can you expect the rev- erend bench will approve of this ? I am con- vinced they will not ; and therefore I wish I had seen it full upon this occasion. I am sure I have seen it much fuller upon other occasions, in which religion had no such deep concern. We have already, my Lords, several sorts of funds in this nation, so many that a man must have a good deal of leai'ning to be master of them. Thanks to his Majesty, we have now among us the most learned man of the nation in this way. I wish he would rise up and tell us what name we are to give this new fund. We have already the Civil List Fund, the Sinking Fund, the Aggre- gate Fund, the South Sea Fund, and God knows how many others. What name we are to give , this new fund I know not, unless we are to call Ut the Drinking Fund. It may perhaps enable the people of a certain foreign territory [Hano- ver] to drink claret, but it will disable the peo- ple of this kingdom from drinking any thing else but gin ; for when a man has, by gin drinking-, rendered himself unfit for labor or business, he can purchase nothing else; and then the best thing he can do is to drink on till he dies. _..J^ '' ^Surely, my Lords, men of such unbounded be-/^ nevolence as our present ministers deserve such \ honors as were never paid before : they deserve * to bestride a butt upon every sign-post in the city, or to have their figures exhibited as token.s where this liquor is to be sold by the license which they have procured. They must be at least remembered to future ages as the "happy politicians" who, after all expedients for raising taxes had been employed, discovered a new meth- od of draining the last \-elics of the public wealth, and added a new revenue to the government. Nor will those who shall hereafter enumerate the sevei-al funds now established among us. for- get, among the benefactors to their country, the illustrious authors of the Drinking Fund. May I be allowed, my Lords, to congratulate my countrymen and fellow-subjects upon the happy times which are now approaching, in which no man will be disqualified from the priv- ilege of being drunk ; when all discontent and disloyalty shall be forgotten, and the people, though now considered by the ministry as ene- mies, shall acknowledge the leniency of that government under which all restraints are taken aw^ay ? But, to a bill for such desirable purposes, it would be proper, my Lords, to prefix a pream- ble, in w^ich the kindness of our intentions should be more fully explained, that the nation may not mistake our indulgence for cruelty, nor consider their benefactors as their persecutors. If, therefore, this bill be considered and amend- ed (for why else should it be considered ?) in a committee, I shall humbly propose that it shall be introduced in this manner : " Whereas, the , designs of the present ministiy, whatever th^y ' are, can not be executed without a great nunL' ber of mercenaries, which mercenaries can noft be hired without money ; and whei'eas the pres-'^ ent disposition of this nation to drunkenness in- ; clines us to believe that they will pay more \ cheerfully for the undisturbed enjoyment of dis- | tilled liquors than for any other concession thatj can be made by the government ; be it enacted, [ by the King's most excellent Majesty, that noj man shall hereafter be denied the right of being:' drunk on the following conditions." ' This, my Lords, to trifle no longer, is the proper preamble to this bill, which contains only the conditions on which the people of this king- dom ai'e to be allowed henceforward to riot in debauchery, in debauchery licensed by law and countenanced by the magistrates. For there is no doubt but those on whom the inventors of this tax shall confer authority, will be directed to assist their masters in their design to encour- age the consumption of that liquor from which such large revenues are expected, and to multi- ply without end those licenses w^hich are to pay a yearly tribute to the Crown. B}^ this unbounded license, my Loi-ds, that price will be lessened, from the incrca.se of which the exDcctations of the efficacy of this 48 LORD CHESTERFIELD AGAINST [1743. law are pretended ; for the number of retailers will lessen the value, as in all other cases, and lessen it more than this tax will increase it. Besides, it is to be considered, that at present the retailer expects to be paid for the danger which he incurs by an unlawful trade, and will not trust his reputation or his purse to the mer- cy of his customer without a profit proportioned to the hazard ; but, when once the restraint shall be taken away, he will sell for common gain, and it can hardly be imagined that, at present, he subjects himself to informations and penalties (for less than sixpence a gallon. The specious pretense on which this bill is founded, and, indeed, the only pretense that de- serves to be termed specious, is the propriety of (taxing vice ; but this maxim of government has, on this occasion, been either mistaken or pei'- verted. Vice, my Lords, is not properly to be taxed, but suppressed ; and heavy taxes are sometimes the only means by which that sup- pression can be attained. Luxury, my Lords, or the excess of that which is pernicious only by its excess, may very properly be taxed, that such excess, though not strictly unlawful, may be made more difficult. But the use of those things which are simply hurtful, hurtful in their own nature, and in every degree, is to be prohibited. None, my Lords, ever heard, in any nation, of a tax upon theft or adultery, because a tax im- plies a license granted for the use of that which is taxed to all who shall be willing to pay it. ^ ^ # # # During the course of this long debate, I have endeavored to recapitulate and digest the argu- ments which have been advanced, and have con- sidered them both separately and conjointly ; but find myself at the same distance from con- viction as when I first entered the House. In vindication of this bill, my Lords, we have been told that the present law is ineffectual ; that our manufacture is not to be destroyed, or not this year; that the security offered by the present bill has induced great numbers to sub- scribe to the new fund ; that it has been ap- proved by the Commons ; and that, if it be found ineffectual, it may be amended another J^ All these arguments, my Lords, I shall en- ^ deavor to examine, because I am always desir- \ t^ ous of gratifying those great men to whom the administration of affairs is intrusted, and have always very cautiously avoided the odium of dis- A aflTection, which they will undoubtedly throw, in imitation of their predecessors, upon all those whose wayward consciences shall oblige them to hinder the execution of their schemes. AVith a very strong desire, therefore, though with no great hopes, of finding them in the right, I venture to begin my inquiry, and engage in the examination of their first assertion, that the present law against the abuse of strong liquors is without effect. I hope, my Lords, it portends well to my in- quiry that the fii'st position which I have to ex- amine is true ; nor can I forbear to congratulate your Lordships upon having heard from the new ministry one assertion not to be contradicted. It is evident, my Lords, from daily observa- tion, and demonstrable from the papers upon the table, that every year, since the enacting of the last law, that vice has increased which it was intended to repress, and that no time has been so favorable to the retailers of spirits as that which has passed since they were prohibited. It may therefore be expected, my Lords, that having agreed with the ministers in their funda- mental proposition, I shall concur with them in the consequence which they draw from it ; and having allowed that the present law is ineffect- ual, should admit that another is necessary. "Bull my Lords, in order to discover whether this consequence be necessary, it must first be inquired why the present law is of no force. For, my Lords, it will be found, upon reflection, that there are certain degrees of corruption that may hinder the effect of the best laws. The^, magistrates may be vicious, and forbear to en- force that law by which themselves are con- demned; they may be indolent, and inclined rath- er to connive at wickedness, by which they are not injured themselves, than to repress it by a laborious exertion of their authority ; or they may be timorous, and, instead of awing the vi- cjouSj^may be awed by them. In any of these cases, my Lords, the law is nou to be condemned for its inefficacy, since it only fails by the defect of those who are to direct its operations. vThe best and most important laws will contribute very little to the security or hap- piness of a people, if no judges of integrity and spirit can be found among them. Even the most beneficial and useful bill that ministers can pos- sibly imagine, a bill for laying on our estates a tax of the fifth part of their yearly value, would be wholly without effect if collectors could not be^flbtained. f«(^am therefore, my Lords, yet doubtful wheth- • er the inefficacy of the law now subsisting nec- essarily obliges us to provide another ; for those that declared it to be useless, owned, at the same time, that no man endeavored to enforce it, so that perhaps its only defect may be that it will not execute itself. Nor, though I should allow that the law is at present impeded by difficulties which can not be broken through, but by men of more spirit and dignity than the ministers may be inclined to trust with commissions of the peace, yet it can only be collected that another law is necessar}'-, not that the law now proposed will be of any advantage. Great use has been made of the inefficacy of the present law to decry the proposal made by the noble Lord [a member of the Opposition] for laying a high duty upon these pernicious liquors. High duties have already, as we are informed, been tried without advantage. High duties are at this hour imposed upon those spirits which are retailed, yet we see them every day sold in the streets without the payment of the tax re- quired, and therefore it will be folly to make a I 1743] LICENSING GIN-SHOPS. 49 second essay of means, which have been found, hvihe essay of many years, unsuccessful. It has been granted on all sides in this debate, nor was it ever denied on any other occasion, that the consumption of any commodity is most easily hindered by raising its price, and its price is to be raised by the imposition of a duty. This, my Lords, which is, I suppose, the opinion of every man, of whatever degree of experience or understanding, appears likewise to have been thought of by the authors of the present law ; and therefore they imagined that they had effect- ually provided against the increase of drunken- ness, by laying upon that liquor which should be retailed in small quantities, a duty which none of the inferior classes of drunkards would be able to pay. Thus, my Lords, they conceived that they had reformed the common people without infringing the pleasures of others ; and applauded the hap- py contrivance by which spirits were to be made dear only to the poor, while every man who could afford to purchase two gallons was at lib- erty to riot at his ease, and, over a full flowing bum pel', look down with contempt upon his for- mer companions, now ruthlessly condemned to disconsolate sobriety. But, my Lords, this intention was frustrated, and the project, ingenious as it was, fell to the ground ; for, though they had laid a tax, they unhappily forgot this tax would make no addi- tion to the price unless it was paid, and that it would not be paid unless some were empowered to collect it. Here, my Lords, was the difficulty : those who made the law were inclined to lay a tax from which themselves should be exempt, and there- fore would not charge the liquor as it issued from the still ; and when once it was dispersed in the hands of petty dealers, it was no longer to be found without the assistance of informers, and informers could not carry on the business of prosecution without the consent of the people. It is not necessary to dwell any longer upon the law, the repeal of which is proposed, since it appears already that it failed only from a par- tiality not easily defended, and from the omis- sion of what we now propose — the collecting the duty from the still-head. If this method be followed, there will be no longer any need of informations or of any rig- orous or new measures; the same officers that collect a smaller duty may levy a greater ; nor can they be easily deceived with regard to the quantities that are made ; the deceits, at least, that can be used, are in use already ; they are frequently detected and suppressed ; nor will a larger duty enable the distillers to elude the vig- ilance of the officers with more success. Against this proposal, therefore, the inefficacy of the present law can be no objection. But it is urged that such duties would destroy the trade of distilling ; and a noble Lord has been pleased to express great tenderness for a manufacture so beneficial and extensive. That a large duty, levied at the still, would D destroy, or very much impair, the trade of dis- tilling, is certainly supposed by those who de- fend it, for they proposed it only for that end : and what better method can they propose, when they are called to deliberate upon a bill for the prevention of the excessive use of distilled liq-J^JL* uors? _ ^ The noble Lord has been pleased kindly to in- form us that the trade of distilling is very exten- sive ; that it employs great numbers ; and that they have arrived at an exquisite skill, and thei'e- fore — note well the consequence — the trade of distilling is not to be discouraged. Once more, my Lords, allow me to wonder at the different conceptions of different understand- ings. It appears to me that since the spirits '' which the distillers produce are allowed to en- feeble the limbs and vitiate the blood, to pervert the heart and obscure the intellects, that the number of distillers should be no argument in their favor ; for I never heard that a law against theft was repealed or delayed because thieves were numerous. It appears to me, my Lords, that if so formidable a body are confederated against the virtue or the lives of their fellow-cit- izens, it is time to put an end to the havoc, and to interpose, while it is yet in our power to stop the destruction. So little, my lords, am I affected with the merit of the wonderful skill which the distillers are said to have attained, that it is, in my opin- ion, no faculty of great use to mankind to pre- pare palatable poison ; nor shall I ever contrib- ute my interest for the reprieve of a murderer, because he has, by long practice, obtained great dexterity in his trade. If their liquors are so delicious that the peo- ple are tempted to their own destruction, let us at length, my Lords, secure them from these fatal draughts, by bursting the vials that con- tain them. Let us crush at once these artists in slaughter, who have reconciled their country- men to sickness and to ruin, and spread over the pitfalls of debauchery such baits as can not be resisted. The noble Lord has, indeed, admitted that this bill may not be found sufficiently coercive, but gives us hopes that it may be improved and en- forced another year, and persuades us to endeav- or a reformation of drunkenness by degrees, and, above all, to beware at present of hm-ting the mamifacture. I am very far, my Lords, from thinking that there are, this year, any peculiar reasons for tol- erating murder ; nor can I conceive why the manufacture should be held sacred now, if it be to be destroyed hereafter. We are, indeed, de- sired to try how far this law will operate, that we may be more able to proceed with due re- gard to this valuable manufacture. With regard to the operation of the law, it ap- pears to me that it will only enrich the govern- ment without reforming the people ; and I be- lieve there are not many of a different opinion. If any diminution of the sale of spirits be expect- ed from it, it is to be considered that this dimi- 50 T.ORD CHESTERFIELD AGAINST [1743. omiiiea pan V . heajlth and vi •^jL^*n can not, •• ^"prieve is des nution will, or will not, be such as is desired for the reformation of the people. If it be sufficient, the manufacture is at an end, and all the reasons against a higher duty are of equal force against this ; but if it is not sufficient, we have, at least, omitted part of our duty, and have neglected the irtue of the people, my Lords, yet discover why a re- desired for this manufacture — why the ^^^ present year is not equally propitious to the ref- ormation of mankind as any will be that may suc- ceed it. It is true we are at war with two na- tions, and perhaps with more ; but war may be better prosecuted without money than without men. And we but little consult the military glory of our country if we raise supplies for paying our armies by the destruction of those armies that we are contriving to pay. We have heard the necessity of reforming the nation by degrees urged as an argument for im- posing first a lighter dut}', and afterward a heav- ier. This complaisance for wickedness, my Lords, is not so defensible as that it should be battered by arguments in form, and therefore I shall only relate a reply made by Webb, the noted walker, upon a parallel occasion. tThis man, who must be remembered by many of your Lordships, was remarkable for vigor, both of mind and body, and lived wholly upon water for his drink, and chiefly upon vegetables for his other sustenance. He was one day rec- ommending his regimen to one of his friends who loved wine, and who perhaps might somewhat contribute to the prosperity of this spirituous manufacture, and urged him. with great earn- estness, to quit a course of luxury by which his health and his intellects would equally be de- stroyed. The gentleman appeared convinced, ^ and told him " that he would conform to his counsel, and thought he could not change his course of life at once, but would leave off strong liquors by degrees." " By degrees !" says the other, with indignation. " If you should unhap- ; pily fall into the fire, would you caution your 5^ servants not to pull you out but by degrees ?" This answer, my Lords, is applicable to the present case. The nation is sunk into the low- est state of corruption ; the people are not only vicious, but insolent beyond example. They not only break the laws, but defy them ; and yet some of your Lordships are for reforming them by de- grees ! I am not so easily persuaded, my Lords, that our ministers really intend to supply the defects that may hereafter be discovered in this bill. It will doubtless produce money, perhaps much more than they appear to expect from it. I doubt not but the licensed retailers will be more than fifty thousand, and the quantity retailed must increase with the number of retailers. As the bill will, therefore, answer all the ends in- tended by it, I do not expect to see it altered ; for I have never observed ministers desirous of amending their own errors, unless the}' are such as have caused a deficiency in the revenue. Besides ray Lords, it is not certain that, when this fund is mortgaged to the public creditors, they can prevail upon the Commons to change the security. They may continue the bill in force for the reasons, whatever they are, for which they have passed it ; and the good intentions of our ministers, however sincere, may be defeat- ed, and drunkenness, legal drunkenness, estab- lished in the nation. This, my Lords, is very reasonable, and there- fore we ought to exert ourselves for the safety of the nation while the power is yet in our own hands, and, without regard to the opinion or pro- ceedings of the other House, show that we are yet the chief guardians of the people. The ready compliance of the Commons with the measures proposed in this bill has been men- tioned here, with a view, I suppose, of influenc- ing us, but surely by those who had forgotten our independence, or resigned their own. It is not only the right, but the duty of either House, to deliberate, without regard to the determina- tions of the other ; for how should the nation re- ceive any benefit from the distinct powers that compose the Legislature, unless the determina- tions are without influence upon each other ? If either the example or authority of the Commons can divert us from following our own convic- tions, we are no longer part of the Legislature ; we have given up our honors and our privileges, and what then is our concurrence but slavery, or our suffrage but an echo ? The only argument, therefore, that now re- mains, is the expediency of gratifying those, by whose ready subscription the exigencies our new statesmen have brought upon us have been sup- ported, and of continuing the security by which they have been encouraged to such liberal con- tributions. Public credit, my Lords, is indeed of very great importance ; but public credit can never be long supported without public virtue ; nor in- deed, if the government could mortgage the morals and health of the people, would it be just and rational to confirm the bargain. If the min- istry can raise money only by the destruction of their fellow-subjects, they ought to abandon those schemes for which the money is necessary ; for what calamity can be equal to unbounded wickedness ? ' But, my Lords, there is no necessity for a choice which may cost our ministers so much re- gret ; for the same subscriptions may be pro- cured by an offer of the same advantages to a fund of any other kind, and the sinking fund will easily supply any deficiency that might be sus- pected in another scheme. To confess the truth, I should feel very little pain from an account that the nation was for some time determined to be less liberal of their contributions ; and that money was withheld till it was known in what expeditions it was to be employed, to what princes subsidies were to be paid, and what advantages were to be purchased by it for our country. I should rejoice, my Lords, ^ to hear that the lottery by which the deficiencies of this duty are to be supplied was not filled, , ' 1743.] LICENSING GIN-SHOPS. 51 and that the people were grown at last wise enough to discern the fraud and to prefer hon- est commerce, by which all may be gainers, to a game by which the greatest number must cer- tainly be losers. The lotteries, my Lords, which former minis- ters have proposed, have always been censured by those who saw their nature and their tend- ency. They have been considered as legal cheats, by which the ignorant and the rash are defrauded, and the subtle and avaricious often enriched ; they have been allowed to divert the people from trade, and to alienate them from useful industry. A man who is uneasy in his circumstances and idle in his disposition, collects the remains of his fortune and buys tickets in a lottery, retires from business, indulges himself in laziness, and waits, in some obscure place, the event of his adventure. Another, instead of em- ploying his stock in trade, rents a garret, and makes it his business, by false intelligence and chimerical alarms, to raise and sink the price of tickets alternately, and takes advantage of the lies which he has himself invented. Such, my Lords, is the traffic that is produced by this scheme of getting money ; nor were these inconveniences unknown to the present ministers in the time of their predecessors, whom they never ceased to pursue with the loudest clamors whenever the exigencies of the govern- ment reduced them to a lottery. vlf I, my Lords, might presume to recommend to our ministers the most probable method of raising a large sum for the payment of the troops of the Electorate, I should, instead of the tax and lottery now proposed, advise them to establish a certain number of licensed wheel-barrows, on which the laudable trade of thimble and button might be carried on for the support of the war, and shoe-boys might contribute to the defense of the house of Austria by raffling for apples. Having now, my Lords, examined, with the utmost candor, all the reasons which have been offered in defense of the bill, I can not conceal the result of my inquiry. The arguments have had so little eflect upon my understanding, that, as every man judges of others by himself, I can not believe that they have any influence even upon those that offer them, and therefore I am convinced that this bill must be the result of considerations which have been hitherto conceal- ed, and is intended to promote designs which are never to be discovered by the authors before their execution. With regard to these motives and designs, however artfully concealed, every Lord in this House is at liberty to offer his conjectures. When I consider, my lords, the tendency of this bill, I find it calculated only for the propa- gation of diseases, the suppression of industry, land the destruction of mankind. I find it the [most fatal engine that ever was pointed at a peo- Iple ; an engine by which those who are not kill- led will be disabled, and those who preserve their limbs will be deprived of their senses. \ This bill therefore, appears to be designed only to thin the ranks of mankind, and to disbur- den the world of the multitudes that inhabit it ; and is perhaps the strongest proof of political sagacity that our new ministers have yet exhib- ited. They well know, my lords, that they are universally detested, and that, whenever a Briton is destroyed, they are freed from an enemy ; they have therefore opened the flood-gates of gin upon- the nation, that, when it is less numerous, it may be more easily governed. Other ministers, my Lords, who had not at- tained to so great a knowledge in the art of mak- ing war upon their country, when they found their enemies clamorous and bold, used to awe them with prosecutions and penalties, or destroy them like burglars, with prisons and with gibbets. But every age, my Lords, produces some im- provement ; and every nation, however degen- erate, gives birth, at some happy period of time, to men of great and enterprising genius. It is our fortune to be witnesses of a new discovery in politics. We may congratulate ourselves upon being contemporaries with those men, who have shown that hangmen and halters are unnec- essary in a state ; and that ministers may escape the reproach of destroying their enemies by in- citing them to destroy themselves. This new method may, indeed, have upon dif- ferent constitutions a different operation ; it may destroy the lives of some and the senses of oth- ers ; but either of these effects will answer the purposes of the ministry, to whom it is indiffer- ent, provided the nation becomes insensible, whether pestilence or lunacy prevails among them. Either mad or dead the greatest part of the people must quickly be, or there is no hope of the continuance of the present ministry. For this purpose, my Lords, what could have been invented more efficacious than an establish- ment of a certain number of shops at which poi- son may be vended — poison so prepared as to please the palate, while it wastes the strength, and only kills by intoxication ? From the first instant that any of the enemies of the ministry shall grow clamorous and turbulent, a crafty hireling may lead him to the ministerial slaugh- ter-house, and ply him with their wonder-work- ing liquor till he is no longer able to speak or think ; and, my Lords, no man can be more agreeable to our ministers than he that can nei- ther speak nor think, except those who speak without thinking. But, my Lords, the ministers ought to reflect, that though all the people of the present age are their enemies, yet they have made no trial of the temper and inclinations of posterity. Our suc- cessors may be of opinions very different from ours. They may perhaps approve of wars on the Continent, while our plantations are insulted and our trade obstructed ; they may think the support of the house of Austria of more import- ance to us than our own defense ; and may per- haps so far differ from their fathers, as to imag- ine the treasures of Britain very properly era- ployed in supporting the troops, and increasing the splendor, of a foreign Electorate. LORD CHATHAM. UMi^^ ^'^'^^ The name of Chatham is the representative, in our language, of whatever is bold and commanding in eloquence. Yet his speeches are so imperfectly reported, that it is not so much from them as from the testimony of his contemporaries, that we have gained our conceptions of his transcendent powers as an orator. We measure his greatness, as we do the height of some inaccessible cliff, by the shadow it casts be- hind. Hence it will be proper to dwell more at large on the events of his political life ; and especially to collect the evidence which has come down to us by tradition, of his astonishing sway over the British Senate. William Pitt, first Earl of Chatham, was descended from a family of high re- spectability in Cornwall, and was born at London, on the 15th of November, 1708. At Eton, where he was placed from boyhood, he was distinguished for the quick- ness of his parts and for his habits of unwearied application, though liable, much of his time, to severe suffering from a hereditary gout. Here he acquired that love of the classics which he carried with him throughout life, and which operated so pow- erfully in forming his character as an orator. He also formed at Eton those habits of easy and animated conversation for which he was celebrated in after life. Cut off by disease from the active sports of the school, he and Lord Lyttleton, who was a greater invalid than himself, found their chief enjoyment during the intervals of study, in the lively interchange of thought. By the keenness of their wit and the brilliancy of their imaginations, they drew off their companions, Fox, Hanbury Will- iams, Fielding, and others, from the exercises of the play-ground, to gather around them as eager hsteners ; and gained that quickness of thought, that dexterity of reply, that ready self-possession under a sudden turn of argument or the sharpness of retort, which are indispensable to success in public debate, f Almost every great orator has been distinguished for his conversational powers.^ At the age of eighteen, Mr. Pitt was removed W the University of Oxford. Here, in connection with his other studies, he entered on that^evere course of rhetorical training^which he often referred to in after life, as forming so large a part of his early disciplinei He took up the practice of writing out translations from the ancient or- ators ana historians, on the broadest scale.) Demosthenes was his model ; and we are told that he rendered a large part of his orations again and again into English, as the best means of acquiring a forcible and expressive style. The practice was highly recommended by Cicero, from his own experience. It aids the young orator far more effectually in catching the spirit of his model, than any course of mere read- ing, however fervent or repeated. It is, likewise, the severest test of his command of language. To clothe the thoughts of another in a dress which is at once " close and easy" (an excellent, though quaint description of a good translation) is a task of extreme difficulty. As a means of acquiring copiousness of diction and an exact choice of words, Mr. Pitt also read and re-read the sermons of Dr. Barrow, i till he knew many of them by heart. With the same view, he performed a task to which, perhaps, no other student in oratory has ever submitted. He went Haice through the folio Dictionary of Bailey (the best before that of Johnson), examining each word attentively, dwelling on its peculiar import and modes of construction, and thus en- deavoring to bring the whole range of our language completely under his control. LORD CHATHAM. 53 At this time, also, he began those exercises in elocution by which he is known to have obtained his extraordinary powers of delivery. Though gifted by nature with a commanding voice and person, he spared no effort to add every thing that art could confer for his improvement as an orator. His success was commensurate with his zeal. Garrick himself was not a greater actor, in that higher sense of the term in which Demosthenes declared action to be the first, and second, and third thing in oratory. The labor which he bestowed on these exercises was surprisingly great. Probably no man of genius since the days of Cicero, has ever submitted to an equal amount of drudgery. - '^i^^'U^A^ 'ir' '^ ^'^' ^^ . Leaving the University a little before the regular time of graduation, Mr. Pitt traveled on the Continent, particularly in France and Italy. During this tour, he enriched his mind with a great variety of historical and literary information, mak- ing every thing subservient, however, to the one great object of preparing for public life. " He thus acquired," says Lord Chesterfield, " a vast amount of premature and useful knowledge." On his return to England, he applied a large part of his slender patrimony to the purchase of a commission in the army, and became a Comet of the Blues. This made him dependent on Sir Robert Walpole, who was then Prime Minister ; but, with his characteristic boldness and disregard of consequences, he took his stand, about this time, in the ranks of Opposition. Walpole, by his jeal- ousy, had made almost every man of talents in the Whig party his personal enemy. His long continuance in office, against the wishes of the people, was considered a kind of tyranny ; and young men hke Pitt, Lyttleton, &c., who came fresh from college, with an ardent love of liberty inspired by the study of the classics, were naturally drawn to the standard of Pulteney, Carteret, and the other leading " Pat- riots," who declaimed so vehemently against a corrupt and oppressive government. The Prince of Wales, in consequence of a quarrel with his father, had now come out as head of the Opposition. A rival court was established at Leicester House, within the very precincts of St. James's Palace, which drew together such an assemblage of wits, scholars, and orators, as had never before met in the British empire. Jac- obites, Tories, and Patriots were here united. The insidious, intriguing, but highly- gifted Carteret ; the courtly Chesterfield ; the impetuous Argyle ; Pulteney, with a keenness of wit, and a familiarity with the classics which made him as brilliant in conversation as he was powerful in debate ; Sir John Barnard, with his strong sense and penetrating judgment ; Sir William Wyndham, with his dignified sentiments and lofty bearing ; and " the all-accomplished Bolingbroke, who conversed in lan- guage as elegant as that he wrote, and whose lightest table-talk, if transferred to paper, would, in its style and matter, have borne the test of the severest criticism" — these, together with the most distinguished literary men of the age, formed the court of Frederick, and became the intimate associates of Mr. Pitt. On a mind so ardent and aspiring, so well prepared to profit by mingling in such society, so gifted with the talent of transferring to itself the kindred excellence of other minds, the company of such men must have acted with extraordinary power ; and it is proba,ble that all his rhetorical studies had less efiect in making him the orator that he was, than his intimacy with the great leaders of the Opposition at the court of the Prince of Wales. Mr. Pitt became a member of Parliament in 1735. at t he age of twenty-six. For nearly a year he remained silent, studying the temper of the House, and waiting for a favorable opportunity to come forward. Such an opportunity was presented by the marriage of the Prince of Wales, in April, 1736. It was an event of the highest interest and joy to the nation ; but such was the King's animosity against his son, that he would not suflbr the address of congratulation to be moved, as usual, by the ministers of the Crown. The motion was brought forward by Mr. Pulteney ; and it 54 LORD CHATHAM. shows the high estimate put upon Mr. Pitt, that, when he had not as yet opened his lips in ParUament, he should be selected to second the motion, in preference to some of the most able and experienced members of the House. His speech was received with the highest applause, and shows that Mr. Pitt's imposing manner and fine command of language gave him from the first that sort of fascination for his audience, which he seemed always to exert over a popular assembly. The speech, which will be found below, if understood literally, is only a series of elegant and high-sounding compliments. If, however, as seems plainly the case, there runs throughout it a deeper meaning ; if the glowing panegyric on " the filial virtue' of the Prince, and " the tender paternal delight" of the King, was intended to reflect on George II. for his harsh treatment of his son — and it can hardly be otherwise — we can not enough admire the dexterity of Mr. Pitt in so managing his subject, as to give his compliments all the effect of the keenest irony, while yet he left no pretense for taking notice of their application as improper or disrespectful. Certain it is that the whole speech was wormwood and gall to the King. It awakened in his mind a personal hatred of Mr. Pitt, which, aggravated as it was by subsequent attacks of a more direct nature, excluded him for years from the service of the Crown, until he was forced upon a reluctant monarch by the demands of the people. Sir Robert Walpole, as might be supposed, listened to the eloquence of his youthful opponent with anxiety and alarm ; and is said to have exclaimed, after hearing the speech, " We must, at all events, muzzle that terrible Cornet of Horse." Whether he attempted to bribe him by offers of promotion in the army (as was reported at the time), it is impossible now to say ; but finding him unalterably attached to the Prince and the Opposition, he struck the blow without giving him time to make an- other speech, and deprived him of his commission within less than eighteen days. Such a mode of punishing a political opponent has rarely been resorted to, under free governments, in the case of military and naval officers. It only rendered the Court more odious, while it created a general sympathy in favor of Mr. Pitt, and turned the attention of the public with new zest and interest to his speeches in Parliament. Lord Lyttleton, at the same time, addressed him in the following lines, which were eagerly circulated throughout the country, and set him forth as already leader of the Opposition. Long had thy virtues marked thee out for fame, Far, far superior to a Cornet's name ; This generous Walpole saw, and grieved to find So mean a post disgrace the human mind, • Tlie servile standard from the free-born hand He took, and bade thee lead the Patriot Band. As a compensation to Mr. Pitt for the loss of his commission, the Prince appoint- ed him Groom of the Bed-chamber at Leicester House. Thus, at the age of twenty-seven, Mr. Pitt was made, by the force of his genius and the influence of concurrent circumstances, one of the most prominent members of Parliament, and an object of the liveliest interest to the great body, especially the middling classes, of the English nation. These classes were now rising into an im- portance never before known. They regarded Sir Robert Walpole, sustained as he was in power by the will of the sovereign and the bribery of Parliament, as their natural enemy. Mr. Pitt shared in all their feelings. He was the exponent of their principles. He was, in truth, '* the Great Commoner." As to many of the meas- ures for which Walpole was hated by the people and opposed by Mr. Pitt, time has shown that he was in the right and they in the wrong. ; It has also shown, that nearly all the great leaders of the Opposition, the Pulteneys and the Carterets, were unprincipled men, who played on the generous sympathies of Pitt and Lyttleton, and lashed the prejudices of the nation into rage against the minister, simply to obtain LORD CHATHAM. 55 his placeu* Still the struggle of the people, though in many respects a blind one, M^as prompted by a genuine instinct of their nature, and was prophetic of an onward movement in English society. It was the Commons of England demanding their place in the Constitution ; and happy it was that they had a leader like Mr. Pitt, to represent their principles and animate their exertions. To face at once the Crown and the Peerage demanded not only undaunted resolution, but something of that imperious spirit, that haughty self-assertion, which was so often complained of in the greatest of Enghsh orators. In him, however, it was not merely a sense of personal superiority, but a consciousness of the cause in which he was engaged. He ivas set for the defense of the 'poindar 2^cirt of the Constitution. In proceeding to trace briefly the course of Mr. Pitt as a statesman, we shall di- vide his public life into distinct periods, and consider them separately with refer- ence to his measures in Parliament. The^rs^ period consists of nearly ten years, down to the close of 1744. During the whole of this time, he was an active member of the Opposition, being engaged for nearly seven years in unwearied eflbrts to put down Sir Robert Walpole, and Avhen this was accomplished, in equally strenuous exertions for three years longer, to resist the headlong measures of his successor, Lord Carteret. This minister had rendered himself odious to the nation by encouraging the narrow views and sordid policy of the King, in respect to his Continental possessions. George II. was born in Hanover, and he always consulted its interests at the expense of Great Britain ; seeking to throw upon the national treasury the support of the Hanoverian troops during his wars on the Continent, and giving the Electorate, in various other ways, a marked preference over the rest of the empire. To these measures, and the min- ister who abetted them, Mr. Pitt opposed himself with all the energy of his fervid argumentation, and the force of his terrible invective. It was on this subject that he first came into collision, December 10th, 1742, with his great antagonist Murray, afterward Lord Mansfield. Mr. Oswald, a distinguished literary man who was pres- ent, thus describes the two combatants : " Murray spoke like a pleader, who could not divest himself of the appearance of having been employed by others. Pitt spoke like a gentleman — like a statesman who felt what he said, and possessed the strongest desire of conveying that feeling to others, for their own interest and that of their country. Murray gains your attention by the perspicuity of his statement and the elegance of his diction ; Pitt commands your attention and respect by the nobleness and greatness of his sentiments, the strength and energy of his expressions, and the certainty of his always rising to a greater elevation both of thought and sentiment. For, this talent he possesses, beyond any speaker I ever heard, of ncYQX falling from the beginning to the end of his speech, either in thought or expression. And as in this session he has begun to speak like a man of business as well as an orator, he will in all probability be, or rather is, allowed to make as great an appearance as ever man did in that House." Mr. Pitt incessantly carried on the attack upon Carteret, who, strong in the King's favor, was acting against the wishes of his associates in office. He exclaimed against him as " a sole minister, who had renounced the British nation, and seemed to have drunk of that potion described in poetic fictions, which made men forget their country." He described the King as "hemmed in by German officers, and one English minister without an English heart." It was probably about this time that he made his celebrated retort on Sir William Yonge, a man of great abilities but flagitious Hfe, who had interrupted him while speaking by crying out " Question ! Gluestion 1" Turning to the insolent intruder with a look of inexpressible disgust, he exclaimed, " Pardon me, Mr. Speaker, my agitation I When that gentleman calls for the question, I think I hear the knell of my country's ruin." Mr. Pitt soon 56 LORD CHATHAM. gained a complete ascendency over the House, No man could cope with him ; few ventured even to oppose him ; and Carteret was given up by all as an object of merited reprobation. Under these circumstances, Mr. Pelham and the other col- leagues of the minister, opened a negotiation for a union with Mr. Pitt and the dis- missal of Carteret. The terms were easily arranged, and a memorial was at once presented to the King by Lord Hardwicke, supported by the rest of the ministry, de- manding the removal of the obnoxious favorite. The King refused, wavered, tem- porized, and at last yielded. Mr. Pelham became Prime Minister in November, 1744, with the understanding that Mr. Pitt should be brought into office at the earli- est moment that the King's prejudices would permit. During the same year, the Duchess of Marlborough died, leaving Mr. Pitt a legacy of £10,000, "on account of his merit in the noble defense of the laws of England, and to prevent the ruin of the country," This was a seasonable relief to one who never made any account of money, and whose circumstances, down to this time, were extremely limited. It may as well here be mentioned, that about twenty years after, he received a still more ample testimony of the same kind from Sir "William Pynsent, who bequeathed him an estate of £2500 a year, together with £30,000 in ready money, "We now come to the second period of Mr. Pitt's political life, embracing the ten years of Mr. Pelham's ministry down to the year 1754. So strong was the hostility of the King to his old opponent, that no persuasions could induce him to receive Mr. Pitt into his service. On the contrary, when pressed upon the subject, he took decid- ed measures for getting rid of his new ministers. This led Mr. Pelham and his asso- ciates, Avho knew their strength, instantly to resign. The King was now powerless. The Earl of Bath (Pulteney), to whom he had committed the formation of a ministry, could get nobody to serve under him ; the retired ministers looked with derision on his fruitless efforts ; and some one remarked sarcastically, " that it was unsafe to walk the streets at night, for fear of being pressed for a cabinet counselor. ' The Long Administration came to an end in just forty-eight hours I The King was com- pelled to go back to Mr. Pelham, and to take Mr. Pitt along with him ; he stipu- lated, however, that the man who was thus forced upon him should not, at least for a time, be brought into immediate contact with his person. He could not en- dure the mortification of meeting with him in private. Mr, Pitt, therefore, received provisionally the situation of Joint Treasurer of Ireland. He noAV resigned the of- fice of Groom of the Chamber to the Prince of Wales, and entered heartily into the interests of the Pelham ministry. A contemporary represents him as "swaying the House of Commons, and uniting in himself the dignity of Wyndham, the wit of Pulteney, and the knowledge and judgment of Walpole." He was " right [con- ciliatory] toward the King, kind and respectful to the old corps, and resolute and contemptuous to the Tory Opposition." About a year after (May, 1746), on the death of Mr. Winnington, he was made Paymaster of the Forces, as originally agreed on. In entering upon his new office, Mr. Pitt gave a striking exhibition of disinterest- edness, which raised him in the public estimation to a still higher level as a man, than he had ever attained by his loftiest efforts as an orator. It was then the cus- tom, that £100,000 should constantly he as an advance in the hands of the Pay- master, who invested the money in public securities, and thus realized about £4000 a year for his private benefit. This was obviously a very dangerous practice ; for if the funds were suddenly depressed, through a general panic or any great public ca- lamity, the Paymaster might be unable to realize his investments, and would thus become a public defaulter. This actually happened during the rebellion of 1745, when the army, on whose fidelity depended the very existence of the government, was for a time left without pay. Mr. Pitt, therefore, on assuming the duties of Pay- LORD CHATHAM. 57 master, placed all the funds at his control in the Bank of England, satisfied with the moderate compensation attached to his office. He also gave another proof of his elevation ahove pecuniary motives, by refusing a certain per centage, which had always been attached to his office, on the enormous subsidies then paid to the dueen of Austria and the King of Sardinia. The latter, when he heard of this refusal, requested Mr. Pitt to accept, as a token of royal favor, what he had rejected as a perquisite of office. Mr. Pitt still refused. It was this total disregard of the ordinary means of becoming rich, that made Mr. Grattan say, " his character astonished a corrupt age." Politicians were indeed puzzled to un- derstand his motives ; for bribery in Parliament and corruption in office had become so universal, and the spirit of public men so sordid, that the cry of the horse-leech was heard in every quarter, Give I give I Ambition itself had degenerated into a thirst for gold. Power and preferment were sought chiefly as the means of amass- ing wealth. Well might George II. say, when he heard of Mr. Pitt's noble disin- terestedness, " His conduct does honor to human nature I" In joining the Pelham ministry, Mr. Pitt yielded more than might have been ex- pected, to the King's wishes in regard to German subsidies and Continental alliances. For this he has been charged with inconsistency. He thought, however, that the case was materially changed. The war had advanced so far, that nothing remained but to fight it through, and this could be done only by German troops. In addition to this, the Electorate was now in danger ; and though he had resisted Carteret's measures for aggrandizing Hanover at the expense of Great Britain, he could, with- out any change of principles, unite with Pelham to prevent her being wrested from the empire by the ambition of France. He saw, too, that the King grew more ob- stina.te as he grew older ; and that if the government was to be administered at all, it must be by those who were willing to make some concessions to the prejudices, and even to the weakness, of an aged monarch. That he was iiffiuenced in all this by no ambitious motives, that his desire to stand well with the King had no con- nection with a desire to stand highest in the state, it would certainly be unsafe to affirm. But his love of power had nothing in it that was mercenary or selfish. He did not seek it, like Newcastle, for patronage, or, like Pulteney and Fox, for money. He had lofty conceptions of the dignity to which England might be raised as the head of European politics ; he felt himself equal to the achievement ; and he panted for an opportunity to enter on a career of service which should realize his brightest visions of his country's glory. With these views, he supported Pelham and endeav- ored to conciliate the King, waiting with a prophetic spirit for the occasion which was soon to arrive. Mr. Pelham died suddenly in March, 1754 ; and this leads us to the thwd period of Mr. Pitt's public life, embracing about three years, down to 1757. The death of Pelham threw every thing into confusion.* " Now I shall have no more peace," said the old King, when he heard the news. The event verified his predictions. The Duke of Newcastle, brother of Mr. Pelham, demanded the office of Prime Min- ister, and was enabled, by his borough interest and family connections, to enforce hi.s claim. The " lead" of the House of Commons was now to be disposed of; and there were only three men who had the slightest pretensions to the prize, viz., Pitt, Fox, and Murray, afterward Lord Mansfield. And yet Newcastle, out of a mean jealousy of their superior abilities, gave it to Sir Thomas Robinson, who was so poor a speaker, that " when he played the orator," says Lord Waldegrave, " which he frequently attempted, it was so exceedingly ridiculous, that even those who loved him could not always preserve a friendly composure of countenance." " Sir Thomas Kobinson lead us ?" said Pitt to Fox ; " the Duke might as well send his jack-boot to vlead us I" He was accordingly baited on every side, falling perpetually into blun- 58 LORD CHATHAM. ders which provoked the stern animadversions of Pitt, or the more painful irony of Fox. Eobinson was soon silenced, and Murray was next brought forward. Mr. Pitt did not resign ; but after this second rejection he felt absolved from all obligations to Newcastle, and determined to make both him and Murray feel his power. An op- portunity was soon presented, and he carried out his design Avith a dexterity and effect which awakened universal admiration. At the trial of a contested election [that of the Dalavals], when the debate had degenerated into mere buffoonery, which kept the members in a continual roar, Mr. Pitt came down from the gallery where he was sitting, says Fox, who was present, and took the House to task for their con- duct " in his highest tone." He inquired whether the dignity of the House stood on such sure foundations, that they might venture to shake it thus. He intimated, that the tendency of things was to degrade the House into a mere French Parlia- ment ; and exhorted the Whigs of all conditions to defend their attacked and ex- piring liberties, " unless," said he, " you are to degenerate into a little assembly, serving no other purpose than to register the arbitrary edicts of 07ie too powerful subject" (laying, says Fox, a most remarkable emphasis on the words one and sub- ject). The application to Newcastle was seen and felt by all. " It was the finest speech," adds Fox, " that was ever made ; and it was observed that by his first two sentences, he brought the House to a silence and attention that you might have heard a pin drop. I just now learn that the Duke of Newcastle was in the utmost fidget, and that it spoiled his stomach yesterday."^ According to another who was present, "this thunderbolt, thrown in a sky so long clear, confounded the audience. Murray crouched silent and terrified." Nor without reason, for his turn came next. On the following day, November 27, 1754, Mr. Pitt made two other speeches, ostensi- bly against Jacobitism, but intended for Murray, who had just been raised from the of- fice of Sohcitor to that of Attorney General. " In both speeches," says Fox, " every word was Murray, yet so managed that neither he nor any body else could take public notice of it, or in any way reprehend him. I sat near Murray, who suffered for an hour." It was, perhaps, on this occasion, says Charles Butler, in his Remin- iscences, that Pitt used an expression which was once in every mouth. After Mur- ray had " suffered" for a time, Pitt stopped, threw his eyes around, then fixing their whole power on Murray, exclaimed, " I must now address a few words to Mr. At- torney ; they shall be few, but shall be daggers." Murray was agitated ; the look was continued ; the agitation increased. " Felix trembles I" exclaimed Pitt, in a tone of thunder; ''he shall hear me some other day I'' He sat down. Murray made no reply ; and a languid debate showed the paralysis of the House. ^ ^ It is surprising that Charles Butler should insist, in his Reminiscences, that " it was the manner, and not the loords, that did the wonder" in this allusion to Newcastle's overbearing influence with the King. Had he forgotten the jealousy of the English people as to their monarch's being ruled by a favorite ? What changed the attachment of the nation for George IH., a few years after, into anger and distrust, but the apprehension that he was governed by Lord Bute ? And what was better calculated to startle the House of Commons than the idea of sinking, like the once free Par- liaments of France, " into a little assembly, serving no other purpose than to register the arbitrary edicts of one too powerful subject ? 2 It is not difficult to conjecture what were the " daggers" referred to by Mr. Pitt. The Stor- mont family, to which Murray belonged, was devotedly attached to the cause of James II. His brother was confidential secretary to the Pretender during the rebellion of 1745; and when the rebel lords were brought to London for trial in 1746, Lord Lovat, who was one of them, addressed Murray, to his great dismay, in the midst of the trial, ^'Yonr mother was very kind to my clan as we marched through Perth to join the Pretender .'" Murray had been intimate, while a student in the Temple, with Mr. Vernon, a rich .lacobite citizen ; and it was affirmed that when Vernon and his ' friends drank the Pretender's health on their knees (as they often did), Murray was present and joined in the act. When he entered life, however, he saw that the cause of James was hopeless, and espoused the interests of the reigning family. There was no reason to doubt his sincerity ; but I LORD CHATHAM. 59 Newcastle found it impossible to go on without adding to his strength in debate. He therefore bought off Fox in April, 1755, by bringing him into the Cabinet, while Pitt was again rejected with insult. To this incongruous union Mr. Pitt alluded, a short time after, in terms wdiich were much admired for the felicity of the image un- der which the allusion was conveyed. New^castle, it is well known, was feeble and tame, while Fox was headlong and impetuous. An address, prepared by the min- istry, was complained of as obscure and incongruous. Mr. Pitt took it up, saying, " There are parts of this address which do not seem to come from the same quarter with the rest. I can not unravel the mystery." Then, as if suddenly recollecting the two men thus brought together at the head of affairs, he exclaimed, clapping his hand to his forehead, " Now it strikes me I I remember at Lyons to have been carried to see the conflux of the Rhone and the Saone — the one a feeble, languid stream, and, though languid, of no great depth ; the other a boisterous and impetuous torrent. But, different as they are, they meet at last ; and long," he added, w^ith the bitterest irony, " long may they continue united, to the comfort of each other, and to the glory, honor, and security of this nation I" In less than a week Mr. Pitt was dismissed from his office as Paymaster. This was the signal for open war — Pitt against the entire ministry. Ample occa- sion ibr attack was furnished by the disasters which were continually occurring in the public service, and the dangers resulting therefrom — the loss of Minorca, the defeat of General Braddock, the capture of Calcutta by Sujah Dowlah, and the threatened in- vasion by the French. % These topics aflbrded just ground for the terrible onset of Mr. Pitt. " During the whole session of 1755-6," says an eye-witness, " Mr. Pitt found occasion, in every debate, to confound the ministerial orators. His vehement invec- tives were awful to Murray, terrible to Hugh Campbell ; and no malefactor under the stripes of the executioner, was ever more helpless and forlorn than Fox, shrewd and able in Parliament as he confessedly is. Doddington sheltered himself in si- lence." With all this vehemence, however, he was never betrayed into any thing coarse or unbecoming the dignity of his character. Horace Walpole, writing to Ge- rard Hamilton, says of his appearance on one of these occasions, " There was more humor, wit, vivacity, fine language, more boldness, in short more astonishing perfec- tion than even you, who are used to him, can conceive." And again, *' He surpassed himself, as I need not tell you he surpassed Cicero and Demosthenes. What a figure would they make, with their formal, labored, cabinet orations, by the side of his manly vivacity and dashing eloquence at one o'clock in the morning, after a sitting of eleven hours I" The effect on the ministerial ranks was soon apparent. Murray was the first to shrink. The ablest by far among the supporters of the ministry — much abler, indeed, as a reasoner, than his great opponent, and incomparably more learned in ev- ery thing pertaining to the science of government, he could stand up no longer before the devouring eloquence of Pitt. On the death of Chief-justice Ryder, which k>ok place in November, 1756, he instantly demanded the place. New^castle resisted, en- treated, offered, in addition to the profits of the Attorney Generalship, a pension of £2000, and, at last, of £6000 a year. It w^as all in vain. Nothing could induce Murray to remain longer in the House. He was accordingly made Chief Justice, these early events of liis life gave Mr. Pitt immense advantage over him in such attacks. Junius cast them into his teeth sixteen years after. "Your zeal in the cause of an unhappy prince was expressed with the sincerity of wine and some of the solemnities of religion.''^ In quoting fiom Butler, I have modified his statement in two or three instances. By a slip of the pen he wrote Festvs for Felix, and Solicitor for Attorney. He also makes Pitt say " Judge Festus," when Murray was not made judge until a year later. It is easy to see how the title judge might have slipped into the story after Murray was raised to the bench ; but Mr. Pitt could never have addressed the same person as judge, and yet as prosecuting officer of the Crown. 60 LORD CHATHAM. and a Peer with the title of Lord Mansfield ; and on the day he took his seat upon the bench, Newcastle resig?ied as minister. Nothing now remained for the King but to transfer the government to Mr. Pitt. It was a humiliating necessity, but the condition of public affairs was dark and threat- ening, and no one else could be found of sufficient courage or capacity to undertake the task. Pitt had said to the Duke of Devonshire, " My Lord, I am sure that I can save this country, and that nobody else can." The people believed him.' " The eyes of an afflicted and despairing nation," says GMover, who was far from partaking in their enthusiasm, " were now lifted up to a private gentleman of slender fortune, wanting the parade of birth or title, with no influence except marriage with Lord Temple's sister, and even confined to a narrow circle of friends and acquaintances. Yet, under these circumstances, Mr, Pitt was considered the savior of England." His triumph was the triumph of the popular part of the Constitution. It was the first in- stance in which the middling classes, the true Commons of Great Britain, were able to break down in Parliament that power which the great families of the aristocracy had so long possessed, of setting aside or sustaining the decisions of the Throne. Mr. Pitt's entrance on the duties of Prime Minister in December, 1756, brings us to the fourth period of his political life, which embraces nearly five years, down to October, 1761. For about foiir months, however, during his first ministry, his hands were in a great measure tied. Though supported by the unanimous voice of the people, the King regarded him with personal dislike ; Newcastle and his other oppo- nents were able to defeat him in Parliament ; and in April, 1757, he received the royal mandate to retire. This raised a storm throughout the whole of England. The stocks fell. The Common Council of London met and passed resolutions of the strongest kind. The principal towns of the kingdom, Bath, Chester, Norwich, Salis- bury, Worcester, Yarmouth, Newcastle, and many others, sent Mr. Pitt the freedom of their respective cities, as a token of their confidence and as a warning to the King. " For some weeks," says Horace Walpole, " it rained gold boxes I" The King, in the mean time, spent nearly three months in the vain attempt to form another adminis- tration. It was now perfectly apparent, that nothing could be done without conces- sions on both sides. Mr. Pitt therefore consented, June 30th, 1757, to resume his office as Principal Secretary of State and Prime Minister, in conjunction with New- castle as head of the Treasury, satisfied that he could more easily overrule and direct the Duke as a member of the Cabinet than as leader of the Opposition. The result verified his expectations. His second ministry now commenced, that splendid era which raised England at once, as if by m.agic, from the brink of ruin and degrada- tion. The genius of one man completely penetrated and informed the mind of a whole people. " From the instant he took the reins, the panic, which had paralyzed every effort, disappeared. Instead of mourning over former disgrace and dreading future defeats, the nation assumed in a moment the air of confidence, and awaited with im- patience the tidings of victory." In every thing he undertook, " He put so much of his soul into his act That his example had a magnet's force, And all were prompt to follow whom all loved." To this wonderful power of throwing his spirit into other minds. Colonel Barre referred at a later period, in one of his speeches in Parliament : "He was possessed of the happy talent of transfusing his own zeal into the souls of all those who were to have a share in carrying his projects into execution ; and it is a matter well known to many officers now in the House, that no man ever entered his closet who did not feel himself, if possible, braver at his return than when he went in." He knew, also, how to use fear, as well as affection, for the accomplishment of his de- signs. " It will be impossible to have so many ships prepared so soon," said Lord LORD CHATHAM. 61 Anson, when a certain expedition was ordered. " If the ships are not ready," said Mr. Pitt, " I will impeach your Lordship in presence of the House." They were ready as directed. Newcastle, in the mean time, yielded with quiet submission to the supremacy of his genius. All the Duke wanted was the patronage, and this Mr. Pitt cheerfully gave up for the salvation of the country. Horace Walpole says, in his lively manner, " Mr. Pitt does every thing, and the Duke of Newcastle gives every thing. As long as they can agree in this partition, they may do what they will."'' One of the first steps taken by Mr. Pitt was to grant a large subsidy to Frederick the Great, of Prussia, for carrying on the war against the Empress of Austria. This was connected with a total change which had already taken place in the Con- tinental policy of George II., and was intended to rescue Hanover from the hands of the French. Still, there were many who had a traditional regard for the Em- press of Austria, in whose defense England had expended more than ten millions of pounds sterling. The grant was, therefore, strenuously opposed in the House, and Mr. Pitt was taunted with a desertion of his principles. In reply, he defended himself, and maintained the necessity of the grant with infinite dexterity. " It was," says Horace Walpole, " the most artful speech he ever made. He provoked, called for, defied objections — promised enormous expense — demanded never to be tried by events." By degrees he completely subdued the House, until a murmur of applause broke forth from every quarter. Seizing the favorable moment, he drew back with the utmost dignity, and placing himself in an attitude of defiance, exclaimed, in his loudest tone, " Is there an Austrian among you ? Let him come forward and reveal himself I" The effect was irresistible. "Universal silence," says Walpole, " left him arbiter of his own terms." Another striking instance of Mr. Pitt's mastery over the House is said also to have occurred about this time. Having finished a speech, he walked out with a slow step, being severely afflicted with the gout. A silence ensued until the door was opened to let him pass into the lobby, when a member started up, saying, " Mr. Speaker, I rise to reply to the right honorable gentleman." Pitt, who had caught the words, turned back and fixed his eye on the orator, who instantly sat down. He then returned toward his seat, repeating, as he hobbled along, the lines of Virgil, in which the poet, conduct- ing iEneas through the shades below, describes the terror which his presence in- spired among the ghosts of the Greeks who had fought at Troy : Ast Danaum proceres, Agamenmoniacque phalanges, Ut videre virum, fulgentiaque anna per umbras, Ingenti trepidare metu ; pars vertere terga, Ceu quondam petiere rates ; pars tollere vocem Exiguam: inceptus clamor fruslratur Mantes^ Virgil, ^n., vi., 489. 3 A curious anecdote illustrates the ascendency of Pitt over Newcastle. The latter was a great valetudinarian, and was so fearful of taking cold, especially, that he often ordered the windows of the House of Lords to be shut in the hottest weather, while the rest of the Peers were suffering for want of breath. On one occasion he called upon Pitt, who was confined to his bed by the gout. Newcastle, on being led into the bed-chamber, found the room, to his dismay, xoithout jire in a cold, wintery afternoon. He begged to have one kindled, but Pitt refused : it might be inju- rious to his gout. Newcastle drew his cloak around him, and submitted with the worst possible grace. The conference was a long one. Pitt was determined on a naval expedition, under Ad- miral Hawke, for the annihilation of the French fleet. Newcastle opposed it on account of the lateness of the season. The debate continued until the Duke was absolutely shivering with cold ; when, at last, seeing another bed in the opposite corner, he slipped in, and covered himself with the bed-clothes ! A secretary, coming in soon after, found the two ministers in this curious predic- ament, with their faces only visible, bandying the argument with great eagerness from one bed- side to the other. ^ The Grecian chiefs, and Agamemnon's host, When they beheld the man with shining anns 62 LORD CHATHAM. Reaching his seat, he exclaimed, " Now let me hear what the honorable gentle- man has to say to me I" One who was present, being asked whether the House was not convulsed with laughter at the ludicrous situation of the poor orator and the aptness of the lines, replied, " No, sir ; we were all too much awed to laugh." There was, however, very httle debate after his administration had fairly com- menced. All parties united in supporting his measures. It is, indeed, a remarka- ble fact, that the Parliamentary History, which professes to give a detailed report of all the debates in Parliament, contains not a single speech of Mr. Pitt, and only two or three by any other person, during the whole period of his ministry. The supplies which he demanded were, for that day, enormous — twelve millions and a half in one year, an.d nearly twenty millions the next — " a most incredible sum," says Walpole, respecting the former, " and yet already all subscribed for, and even more offered I Our unanimity is prodigious. You would as soon hear ' No' from an old maid as from the House of Commons." " Though Parliament has met," says Walpole again, in 1759, "no politics are come to town. One may describe the House of Commons like the stocks : Debates, nothing done ; Votes, under par ; Patriots, no price ; Oratory, books shut I" England now entered into the war with all the energy of a new existence. Spread out in her colonies to the remotest parts of the globe, she resembled a strong man who had long been lying with palsied limbs, and the blood collected at the heart ; when the stream of life, suddenly set free, rushes to the extremities, and he springs to his feet with an elastic bound to repel injury or punish aggression. In the year 1758, the contest was carried on at once in Europe, Asia, Africa, and Amer- ica — wherever France had possessions to be attacked, or England to be defended." Notwithstanding some disasters at first, victory followed upon victory in rapid suc- cession. Within little more than two years, all was changed. In Africa, France was stripped of every settlement she had on that continent. In India, defeated in two engagements at sea, and driven from every post on land, she gave up her long contest for the mastery of the East, and left the British to establish their govern- ment over a hundred and fifty millions of people. In America, all her rich posses- sions in the West Indies passed into the hands of Great Britain. Louisburg, Quebec, Ticonderoga, Crown Point, Oswego, Niagara, Fort Duquesne [now Pittsburgh], were taken ; and the entire chain of posts with which France had hemmed in and threatened our early settlements, fell before the united arms of the colonists and the English, and not an inch of territory was left her in the Western World. In Eu- rope, Hanover was rescued ; the French were defeated at Creveldt, and again at Minden with still greater injury and disgrace ; the coasts of France were four times invaded with severe loss to the English, but still with a desperate determination to strike terror into the hearts of the enemy ; Havre was bombarded ; the port and fortifications of Cherbourg were demolished ; Brest and the other principal sea-ports were blockaded ; the Toulon fleet was captured or destroyed ; and the brilliant vic- tory of Admiral Hawke ofi' duiberon, annihilated the French navy for the remainder of the war.^ At home, the only part of the empire which continued hostile to the Amid those shades, trembled with sadden fear. Part turned theu' backs in flight, as when they sought Their ships. * * * * Part raised A feeble outcry ; but the sound commenced, Died on their gasping lips. ' One of those brilliant sallies for which Mr. Pitt was distinguished, occurred at this time, and related to Sir Edward Hawke. In proposing a monument for General Wolfe, Mr. Pitt paid a high compliment to Admiral Saunders: " a man," said he, " equaling those who have beaten Armadas — may I anticipate ? those who will beat Armadas !" The words were prophetic. It was the very day of Hawke's victory, November 20th, 17.59. LORD CHATHAM. 63 g-ovemment, the Highlanders of Scotland, who had been disarmed for their rebell- ions, and insulted by a law forbidding them to wear their national costume, were forever detached from the Stuarts, and drawn in grateful affection around the Throne, by Mr. Pitt's happy act of confidence in putting arms into their hands, and sending them to fight the battles of their country in every quarter of the globe. Finally, the commercial interests of the kingdom, always the most important to a great manufacturing people, prospered as never before ; and " Commerce," in the words inscribed by the city of London on the statue which they erected to Mr. Pitt, " Commerce, for the, first time, was united with, and made to flourish by, war I" France was now effectually humbled. In 1761 she sought for peace; and Mr. Pitt declared to his friends, when entering on the negotiation, that " no Peace of Utrecht should again stain the annals of England." He therefore resisted every attempt of France to obtain a restoration of conquests, and was on the point of con- cluding a treaty upon terms commensurate with the triumphs of the English arms, when the French succeeded in drawing Spain into the contest. After a season of long alienation, an understanding once more took place between the two branches of the house of Bourbon. The French minister instantly changed his tone. He came forward Avith a proposal that Spain should be invited to take part in the treaty, specifying certain claims of that country upon England which required ad- justment. Mr. Pitt was indignant at this attempt of a prostrate enemy to draw a third party into the negotiation. He spurned the proposal. He declared, that "he would not relax one syllable from his terms, until the Tower of London was taken by storm." He demanded of Spain a disavowal of the French minister's claims. This offended the Spanish court, and France accomplished her object. The cele- brated Family Compact was entered into, which once more identified the two na- tions in all their interests ; and Spain, by a subsequent stipulation, engaged to unite in the war with France, unless England should make peace on satisfactory terms before May, 1762. Mr. Pitt, whose means of secret intelligence were hardly inferior to those of Oliver Cromwell, was apprised of these arrangements (though studiously concealed) almost as soon as they were made. He saw that a war was inevitable, that he had just ground of war ; and he resolved to strike the first blow — to seize the Spanish treasure-ships which were then on their way from America ; to surprise Havana, which was wholly unprepared for defense ; to wrest the Isthmus of Pana- ma from Spain, and thus put the keys of her commerce between the two oceans forever into the hands of the English. But when he proposed these measures to the Cabinet, he was met, to his surprise, with an open and determined resistance. George II. was dead. Lord Bute, the favorite of George III., was jealous of Mr. Pitt's ascendency. The King probably shared in the same feelings ; and in the lan- guage of Grattan, " conspired to remove him, in order to be relieved from his supe- riority." An obsequious cabinet voted down Mr. Pitt's proposal. He instantly re- signed ; and Spain, as if to prove his sagacity, and justify the measure he had urged, declared war herself within three months I The King, however, in thus ending the most glorious ministry which England had ever seen, manifested a strong desire to conciliate Mr. Pitt. The very next day he sent a message to him through Lord Bute, declaring that he was "impatient" to bestow upon him some mark of the royal favor. Mr. Pitt was melted by these un- expected tokens of kindness. He replied in terms which have often been censured as unbecoming a man of spirit under a sense of injury — terms which would certainly be thought obsequious at the present day, but which were probably dictated by the sudden revulsion of his feelings, and the courtly style which he always maintained in his intercourse with the sovereign.^ On the day after his resignation, he accepted « III bis long and frequent interviews wKh Georse II., Mr. Pitt, though often commanded to sit 64 LORD CPATHAM. a pension of £3000 (being much less than was offered him), together with a peer- age for his wife. Some, indeed, complained that, acting as he did for the people, he should have allowed the King to place him under any pecuniary obligations. " If he had gone into the city," said Walpole, " and told them he had a poor wife and children unprovided for, and opened a subscription, he would have got £500,000 instead of £3000 a year." He could never have done so, until he had ceased to be William Pitt. Mr. Burke has truly said, " With regard to the pension and the title, it is a shame that any defense should be necessary. What eye can not distinguish, at the first glance, between this and the exceptionable case of titles and pensions ? What Briton, with the smallest sense of honor or gratitude, but must blush for his countiy, if such a man had retired unrewarded from the public service, let the mo- tives of that retirement be what they would ? It was not 'possible that his sov- ereign should let his eminent services pass unrequited ; and the quantum was rather regulated by the moderation of the great mind that received, than by the liberality of that which bestowed it."'^ It is hardly necessary to add, that the tide of public favor, which had ebbed for a moment, soon returned to its ordinary channels. The city of London sent him an address in the warmest terms of commendation. On Lord Mayor's day, when he joined the young King and Q,ueen in their procession to dine at Guildhall, the eyes of the multitude were turned from the royal equipage to the modest vehicle which contained Mr. Pitt and his brother-in-law. Lord Temple. The loudest acclamations were reserved for the Great Commoner. The crowd, says an eye-witness, clustered around his carriage at every step, " hung upon the wheels, hugged his footmen, and even kissed his horses." Such were the circumstances under which he retired from office, having resigned on the 5th of October, 1761. We now come to the ffth and last period of Mr. Pitt's life, embracing about six- teen years, down to his decease in 1778. During the whole of this period, except for a brief season when he was called to form a new ministry, he acted with the Opposi- tion. When a treaty of peace was concluded by Lord Bute, in 1762, he was confined to his bed by the gout ; but his feelings were so excited by the concessions made to France, that he caused himself to be conveyed to the House in the midst of his acutest sufferings, and poured out his indignation for three hours and a half, exposing in the keenest terms the loss and dishonor brought upon the country by the conditions of peace. This was called his " Sitting Speech ;" because, after having stood for a time supported by two friends, " he was so excessively ill," says the Parliamentary History, " and his pain became so exceedingly acute, that the House unanimously desired he might be permitted to deliver his sentiments sitting — a circumstance that was unprecedented."^ But whether the peace was disgraceful or not, the ministry had no alternative. Lord Bute could not raise money to carry on the war. The merchants, who had urged upon Mr. Pitt double the amount he needed when- ever he asked a loan, refused their assistance to a minister whom they could not trust. Under these circumstances. Lord Bute was soon driven to extremities ; and as a means of increasing the revenues, introduced a bill subjecting cider to an excise. An Excise Bill has always been odious to the English. It brings with it the right of search. It lays open the private dwelling, which every Englishman has been taught to regard as his " castle." " You give to the dipping-rod," said one, arguing against such a law, " what you deny to the scepter I" Mr. Pitt laid hold of this feeUng, and opposed the bill with his utmost strength. There is no report of his while sufifering severe pain from the gout, never obeyed. When unable any longer to stand, he always kneeled on a cushion before the King. "• Annual Register for 17G1. 8 Parliamentary History, xv., 1262. The report of this speech is too meager and unsatisfactory to merit insertion in this work. LORD CHATHAM. 65 speech, but a single passage has come down to us. containing one of the finest bursts of his eloquence. " The poorest man in his cottage may bid defiance to all the forces of the Crown. It may be frail ; its roof may shake ; the wind may blow through it ; the storm may enter it ; but the King of England can not enter it ! All his power dares not cross the threshold of that ruined tenement I" It was on this occasion, as stated in the Parliamentary History, that Mr. Pitt uttered a bon mot which was long remembered for the mirth it occasioned. Mr. George Grenville replied to Mr. Pitt, and, though he admitted that an excise was odious, contended that the tax was unavoidable. " The right honorable gentleman," said he, " com- plains of the hardship of the tax — why does he not tell us luhere we can lay another in its stead ?" " Tell me," said he, repeating it with strong emphasis, " tell me where you can lay another tax ! Tell me where I" Mr. Pitt, from his seat, broke out in a musical tone, quoting from a popular song of the day, " Gentle shej^herd, tell me tvhere .'" The House burst into a fit of laughter, which continued for some minutes, and Mr. Grenville barely escaped the sobriquet of Gentle Shepherd for the rest of his life. After six divisions, the bill was passed, but it drove Lord Bute from power. He resigned a few weeks after, and in May, 1763, was succeeded by Mr. Grenville, whose mistakes as minister, in connection with the peculiar temperament of the King, opened a new era in the history of Great Britain. It was the misfortune of George III., in the early part of his life, to be governed first by favorites and then by his own passions. He was naturally of a quick and obstinate temper. During the first twenty years of his reign (for he afterward cor- rected this error), he allowed his feelings as a man to mingle far too much with his duties as a sovereign. This led him into two steps, one of which agitated, and the other dismembered his empire — the persecution of John "Vftlkes, and the attempt to force taxation on the American colonies. It is now known, that he sent a personal order to have Wilkes arrested under a general warrant, against the advice of Lord Mansfield, and insisted on all the subsequent violations of law which gave such no- toriety and influence to that restless demagogue. And although he did not originate the plan of taxing America, the moment the right was questioned, he resolved to maintain the principle to the utmost extremity. This it was that forced the " De- claratory Act" on Lord Rockingham, and held Lord North so long to the war, as it now appears, against his own judgment and feelings. In respect to both these subjects, Mr. Pitt took, from the first, an open and decided stand against the wishes of the King. He did it on the principle which governed his whole political life ; which led him, nearly thirty years before, to oppose so violently the issue of search- warrants for seamen^ — the principle of resisting arbitrary power in every form ; of defending, at all hazards, the rights and liberties of the subject, " however mean, however remote." During the remainder of his life, all his speeches of any import- ance, with a single exception, related to one or the other of these topics. It was his constant aim, in his own emphatic language, " to restore, to save, to conjirm the Constitution." This attachment of Mr. Pitt to the popular part of the government gave rise to an attack (it is not known on what occasion), which called forth one of those keen and contemptuous retorts with which he so often put down his opponents. Mr. Moreton, Chief Justice of Chester, having occasion to mention " the King, Lords, and Commons," paused, and, turning toward Mr. Pitt, added, " or, as the right hon- orable member would call them. Commons, Lords, and King." Mr. Pitt, says Charles Butler, in relating the story, rose (as he always did) with great deliber- ation, and called to order. " I have," he said, " heard frequently in this House doctrines which surprised me ; but now my blood runs cold I I desire the words 9 See page 80. E 66 LORD CHATHAM. of the honorable member may be taken down." The clerk wrote down the words. " Bring them to me I" said Mr. Pitt, in his loudest voice. By this time Mr. Moreton was frightened out of his senses. " Sir," said he, addressing the Speaker, " I meant nothing I King, Lords, and Commons; Lords, King, and Com- mons ; Commons, Lords, and King — tria juncta in uno. I meant nothing I In- deed, I meant nothing !" " I don't wish to push the matter further," said Mr. Pitt, in a tone but little above a whisper. Then, in a higher note, " The moment a man acknowledges his error, he ceases to be guilty. I have a great regard for the honorable gentleman, and, as an instance of that regard, I give him this advice — a pause of some moments ; then, assuming a look of unspeakable derision, he added, in a colloquial tone, " Whenever that gentleman mean?, nothing, I recommend to him to say nothing I" It has already been intimated that, during the period now under review, Mr. Pitt was called, for a brief season, into the service of the Crown. George Grenville, who succeeded Lord Bute, after acting as minister about two years, and inflicting on his country the evils of the American Stamp Act, became personally obnoxious to the King, and was dismissed from office about the middle of 1765. The eyes of the whole country were now turned toward Mr. Pitt, and the King asked the temis upon which he would accept office. Mr. Pitt replied that he was ready to go to St. James's, if he could "carry the Constitution along with him." But upon entering into details, it was found impossible to reconcile his views with that court influence which still overruled the King. Lord Rockingham was then called upon to form a ministry ; and Mr. Pitt has been censured by many, and especially by his biographer, Mr. Thackeray, for not joining heartily in the design, and lending the whole weight of his influence to establish, under his Lordship, another great Whig administration. This miight, perhaps, have been an act of magnanimity. But, con- sidering his recent splendid services, the known wishes of the people, and his ac- knowledged superiority over every other man in the empire, it could hardly be ex- pected of Mr. Pitt that he should make himself a stepping-stone for the ambition of another. Lord Rockingham, though a man of high integrity and generous sen- timents, had not that force of character, that eloquence in debate, that controlling influence over the minds of others which could alone reanimate the Whig party, and restore their principles and their policy under a Tory King. Mr, Pitt did not op- pose the new ministers ; but he declared, at the opening of Parliament, that he could not give them his confidence. " Pardon me, gentlemen," said he, bowing to the ministry, " confidence is a ^;/(27^^^ of slow growth in an aged bosorn .'"^° The event justified his delay and hesitation. " The Cabinet," says Cooke, in his History of Party, ** was formed from the rear-guard of the Whigs — men who were timorous and suspicious of their own principles ; who were bound in the chains of aristocratic expediency and personal interest, and who dared not to loose them, because they knew not the power of their principles or their ultimate tendency." The Rocking- ham administration performed one important service — they repealed the Stamp Act. But they held together only a year, and were dissolved on the 5th of August, 1766. Mr. Pitt was now called upon to frame a ministry. It was plainly impossible for him to succeed ; and no one but a man of his sanguine temperament would have thought of making the attempt. The Rockingham Whigs, forming the wealthy and aristocratic section of the party, might of course be expected to oppose. Lord Temple, who had hitherto adhered to Mr. Pitt in every emergency, now deserted him, and joined his brother, George Grenville, in justifying American taxation. 10 See page 103 for the speech containing this passage, and a description of Mr. Pitt's impressive manner in thus declaring off from Lord Rockingham. This single sentence decided the fate of that ministry. LORD CHATHAM. 67 Lord Camden and a few others, the pioneers of Whiggism as it now exists, sup- ported Mr. Pitt, and carried with them the suffrages of the people. But the Tories were favorites at Court. They filled all the important stations of the household ; they had the readiest access to the royal presence ; and, though Mr. Pitt might, at first, undoubtedly rely on the King for support, he could hardly expect to enjoy it long without gratifying his wishes in the selection of the great officers of state. Under these circumstances, the moment Mr. Pitt discovered his real situation, he ought to have relinquished the attempt to form a ministry. But he was led on step by step. His proud spirit had never been accustomed to draw back. He at last formed one on coalition principles. He drew around him as many of his own friends as possible, and filled up the remaining places with Tories, hoping to keep the peace at the council-board by his personal influence and authority. He had put down Newcastle by uniting with him, and he was confident of doing the same with his new competitors. But he made one mistake at the outset, which, in con- nection with his subsequent illness, proved the ruin of his ministry. It related to the " lead" of the House of Commons. His voice was the only one that could rule the stormy discussions of that body, and compose the elements of strife which were thickening around him. And yet he withdrew from the House, and gave the lead to Charles Townsend. Never was a choice more unfortunate. Townsend was, in- deed, brilliant, but he was rash and unstable ; eaten up with the desire to please every body ; utterly devoid of firmness and self-command ; and, therefore, the last man in the world for giving a lead and direction to the measures of the House. But Mr. Pitt's health was gone. He felt wholly inadequate, under his frequent at- tacks of the gout, to take the burden of debate ; he therefore named himself Lord Privy Seal, and passed into the Upper House with the title of Lord Chatham. As might be expected, his motives in thus accepting the peerage were, for a time, mis- understood. He was supposed to have renounced his principles, and become a creat- ure of the Court. The city of London, where he had ruled with absolute sway as the Great Commoner, refused him their support or congratulations as Lord Chat- ham. The press teemed with invectives ; and the people, who considered him as having betrayed their cause, loaded him Avith maledictions. Such treatment, in connection with his sufferings from disease, naturally tended to agitate his feelings and sour his temper. He was sometimes betrayed into rash conduct and passionate language. His biographer has, indeed, truly said, that, " highly as Lord Chatham was loved and respected by his own family, and great as were his talents and vir- tues, he possessed not the art of cementing political friendships. A consciousness of his superior abilities, strengthened by the brilliant successes of his former admin- istration, and the unbounded popularity he enjoyed, imparted an austerity to his manners which distressed and ofiended his colleagues." Such were the circumstances under which Lord Chatham formed his third min- istry. It would long since have passed into oblivion, had not Mr. Burke handed it down to posterity in one of the most striking pictures (though abounding in gro- tesque imagery) which we have in our literature. " He made an administration," says Mr. Burke, in his speech on American Taxation, " so checkered and speckled; he put together a piece of joiner}'- 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 ; pa- triots and courtiers, King's friends and Republicans, that it was indeed a very cu- rious show, but utterly unsafe to touch and unsure to stand on. The colleagues whom he 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 6S LORD CHATHAM. 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."'^ # # ^ « 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 on. When he had accomplished his scheme of administration, he teas no [ longer a minister'' Such was literally the fact. Only a few weeks after his final arrangements were made, he was seized with a paroxysm of the gout at Bath, which threatened his immediate dissolution. Having partially recovered, he set out on his return for Lon- don, in February, 1767. But he was violently attacked on the road, and was com- pelled to retire to his country seat at Hayes, where he lay in extreme suffering, with a mind so agitated and diseased that all access to him was denied for many months. It was during this period that Charles Townsend, in one of his rash and boastful moods, committed himself to Mr. Grenville in favor of taxing the colonies ; and was induced to lay those duties on tea, glass, &c., which revived the contest, and led to the American Revolution. It is, indeed, a singular circumstance, that such a bill should have passed under an administration bearing the name of Chatham. But he had ceased to be minister except in name. Some months before, he had sent a ver- bal message to the King (for he was unable to write), that " such was the ill state of his health, that his majesty must not expect from him any further advice or as- sistance in any arrangement whatever." When Grafton became minister, he sent in his formal resignation by the hands of Lord Camden. It is striking to observe how soon great men are forgotten when they fall from power, and withdraw, in the decay of their faculties, from the notice of the pubhc. Lord Chatham's former resig- nation was an era in Europe. The news of it awakened the liveliest emotions throughout the civilized world. The time of his second resignation was hardly known in London. His sun appeared to have sunk at mid-day amid clouds and gloom Little did any one imagine, that it was again to break forth with a purer splendor, and to fill the whole horizon around with the radiance of its setting beams. ^- 11 Supposed to refer to Lord North and Mr. George Cooke, who were made joint paymasters. 12 There was a mysteiy comiected with Lord Chatham's long confinement which has created many surmises. A writer in the London Quarterly Review for 1840 has endeavored to show that it was, to a great extent, a thing of pretense and affectation ; that he was shocked at the sudden loss of his popularity after accepting the peerage ; disconcerted by the opposition which sprung up; mortified at the failure of liis attempts to strengthen his government; and that, under these circumstances, " he felt some i-eluctance to come forward in liis new chai-acter, and perhaps clung to office only that he might £nd some striking and popular occasion for resignation." To an enemy of Lord Chatham's fame and principles this may seem probable ; but it is a mere hypothesis, with- out the least evidence to support it. It is probably true that Lord Chatham's withdrawal from pubhc business was not owing to direct sufferings from the gout during the whole space of two years. Lord Chesterfield, who was no friend of Chatham, and not the least inclined to shelter him, attributed "his hiactivity to the effects of the injudicious ti-eatment of his physician, who had prevented a threatened attack of the gout by dispersing the humor throughout the whole system. The experiment caused a severe fit of illness, which chiefly affected his nerves." Whether this was the cause or not, it is certain that his nervous system was in a very alarming state, and that his mind became greatly diseased. He was gloomy in the extreme, and perhaps yielded to un- reasonable jealousies and suspicions. Such seems to have been at one time the opinion of Lord Camden, who says, in a confidential letter, " Lord Chatham is at Hayes, brooding over his own suspicions and discontents — his return to business almost desperate — inaccessible to every body; but under a persuasion that he is given up and abandoned." But Lord Camden soon after re- ceived information which probably changed his views. "On his return to Loudon," says his biographer, " he heard such an account of Lord Chatham as to convince him that the country was forever deprived of the services of that illustrious man." This refers, undoubtedly, to a report of his being deranged, which was then prevalent. It now appears that this was not literally the fact, though his miud was certainly in such a state that Lady Chatham did not allow him to be master LORD CHATHAM. 69 After an entire seclusion from the world for nearly three years, Lord Chatham, tc the surprise of all, made his appearance in Parliament with his health greatly im- proved, and in full possession of his gigantic powers. He was still so infirm, how- ever, that he went on crutches, and was swathed in flannels, when he entered the House of Lords at the opening of the session, January 9, 1770. In commenting on the address, he came out at once in a loftier strain of eloquence than ever in reply to Lord Mansfield on the case of John Wilkes.^^ This speech gave a decisive turn to political aflairs. A leader had now appeared to array the Whigs against the Duke of Grafton. Lord Camden, who as Chancellor had continued in the Cab- inet, though hostile to the measures which prevailed, came down from the wool-sack at the close of Lord Chatham's speech, and declared against the minister. " I have," said ho, " hung down my head in council, and disapproved by my looks those steps which I knew my avowed opposition could not prevent, I will do so no longer. I now proclaim to the world that I entirely coincide in the opinion expressed by my noble friend — whose presence again reanimates us — respecting this unconstitution- al vote of the House of Commons." He was of course dismissed ; and united Mdth Lord Chatham, Lord Rockingham, and the rest of the Whigs, to oppose the Grafton ministry. They succeeded in nineteen days : the Duke resigned on the twenty-eighth of the same month. But the Whigs did not profit by their victory. The hostility of the King excluded them from power, and Lord North was placed at the head of affairs. An attempt was now made to put down Lord Chatham by personal in- sult. He was taunted before the House, March 14, 1770, with having received a pension from the Crown, and having unjustifiably recommended pensions for others. He rose upon his antagonist, as he always did on such occasions, and turned his de- fense into an attack. He at once took up the case of Lord Camden, whom he had brought in as Chancellor three years before, with a pension of fifteen hundred pounds. " I could not," said he, " expect such a man to quit the Chief-justiceship of the Com- mon Pleas, which he held for life, and put himself in the power of those who were not to be trusted, to be dismissed from the Chancery at any moment, without mak- ing some slight provision for such an event. The public has not been deceived by his conduct. My suspicions have been justified. His integrity has made him once more a poor and a private man ; he tons dismissed for the vote he gave in favor of the right of election in the jjeople." Here an attempt was made to overwhelm him with clamor. Some Lords called out, " To the bar I to the bar I" and Lord March- mont moved that his words be taken down. Lord Chatham seconded the motion ; and went on to say, " I neither deny, retract, nor explain these words. I do re- ajjinn the fact, and I desire to meet the sense of the House. I appeal to the honor of every Lord in this House whether he has not the same conviction." Lord Rock- ingham, Lord Temple, and many others, rose, and, upon their honor, affirmed the same. The ministry were now desirous to drop the subject ; but Lord Marchmont, encouraged by Lord Mansfield, persisted, and moved that nothing had appeared to justify the assertion. Lord Chatham again declared, "My words remain unretract- of his owii actions. It is, therefore, uncandid in the extreme to represent Lord Chatham as feign- ing ilhiess in order to escape from the responsibihties of his station. 13 Though Lord Chatham had a high sense of Mansfield's learning and abilities, he continued to regtu-d him with aversion and distrust on account of his extreme Tory sentiments. In reply to Mansfield, when the case of Wilkes again came up at a late evening session, he quoted Lord Somers and Chief-justice Holt on the points of law, and drew their characters in his own masterly style. He pronounced them " honest men who knew and loved the Constitution." Then turning to Mans- field, he said, "I vow to God, I think the noble Lord equals them both— m abilities V' He com- plained bitterly, in conclusion, of the motion being pressed by Lord Marchmont and Lord Mana field at so unreasonable an horn-, and called for an adjournment. " If the Constitution must be wouuded," said he, " let it not receive its mortal stab at this dark and midnight hour, when honest men are asleep in their beds, and when only felons and assasshis are seeking for prey !" 70 LORD CHATHAM. ed, unexplained, and reaffirmed. I desire to know whether I am condemned or acquitted ; and whether I may still presume to hold my head as high as the noble Lord who moved to have my words taken down." To this no answer was given. It was easy for the ministry to pass what vote they pleased ; but they found that every attempt to disgrace such a man only recoiled on themselves. His glowing defense of the people's rights regained him the popularity he had lost by his acces- sion to the peerage. The city of London addressed him in terms of grateful ac- knowledgment, thanking him for " the zeal he had shown in support of those most valuable privileges, the right of election and the right of petition." The people looked up to him again as their best and truest friend ; and though promoted to an earldom, they felt, in the language of his grandson. Lord Mahon, " that his eleva- tion over them was like that of Rochester Castle over his own shores of Chatham — that he was raised above them only for their protection and defense." After this session. Lord Chatham was unable to attend upon Parliament except occasionally and at distant intervals. He spent his time chiefly on his estate at Burton Pynsent, superintending the education of his children, and mingling in their amusements with the liveliest pleasure, notwithstanding his many infirmities. He sought to interest them not only in their books, but in rural employments and rural scenery. He delighted in landscape gardening ; and, in speaking of its fine arrange- ments for future efiect, called it, with his usual felicity of expression, " the prophetic eye of Taste." "When his health would permit," says the tutor of his son, "he never suffered a day to pass without giving instruction of some sort to his children, and seldom without reading the Bible with them." He seems, indeed, to have studied the Scriptures with great care and attention from early life. He read them not only for the guidance of his faith, but for improvement in orator}^ " Not con- tent," says Lord Lyttleton, " to correct and instruct his imagination by the works of men, he borrowed his noblest images from the language of inspiration." His practice, in this respect, w^as imitated by Burke, Junius, and other distinguished writers of the day. At no period in later times, has secular eloquence gathered so many of her images and allusions from the pages of the Bible. Thus withdrawn from the cares and labors of public life, there was only one sub- ject that could ever induce him to appear in Parliament. It M^as the contest with America. He knew more of this country than any man in England except Burke. During the war in which he wrested Canada from the French, he was brought into the most intimate communication with the leading men of the colonies. He knew their spirit and the resources of the country. Two of the smallest states (Massa- chusetts and Connecticut) had, in answer to his call, raised tivelve tliousancl men for that war in a single year. Feelings of personal attachment united, therefore, with a sense of justice, to make him the champion of America. Feeble and de- crepit as he was, he forgot his age and sufferings. He stood forth, in presence of the whole empire, to arraign, as a breach of the Constitution, every attempt to tax a people who had no representatives in Parliament. It was the era of his sublimest efforts in oratory. With no private ends or party purposes to accomplish, with a consciousness of the exalted services he had rendered to his country, he spoke " as one having authority," and denounced the war with a prophetic sense of the shame and disaster attending such a conflict. His voice of warning was lost, indeed, upon the ministry and on the great body of the nation, who welcomed a relief from their burdens at the expense of America. But it rang throughout every town and hamlet of the colonies ; and when he proclaimed in the ears of Parliament, " I rejoice that America has resisted," millions of hearts on the other side of the Atlantic swelled with a prouder determination to resist even to the end.^"* ^* Lord Chatham received numerous tokens of respect and gratitude from the colonies. At LORD CHATHAM. 71 But while he thus acted as the champion of America, he never for a moment yielded to the thought of her separation from the mother country. When the Duke of Richmond, therefore, brought forward his motion, in April, 1778, advising the King to withdraw his fleets and armies, and to effect a conciliation with America involving her independence, Lord Chatham heard of his design " with unspeakable concern," and resolved to go once more to the House of Lords for the purpose of re- sisting the motion. The effort cost him his life. A detailed account of the scene presented on that occasion will be given hereafter, in connection wdth his speech. At the close, he sunk into the arms of his attendants, apparently in a dying state. He revived a little when conveyed to his dwelling ; and, after lingering for a few days, died on the 11th of May, 1778, in the seventieth year of his age. Lord Chatham has been generally regarded as the most powerful orator of mod- ern times. He certainly ruled the British Senate as no other man has ever ruled over a great deliberative assembly. There have been stronger minds in that body, abler reasoners, profounder statesmen, but no man has ever controlled it with such absolute sway by the force of his eloquence. He did things which no human being but himself would ever have attempted. He carried through triumphantly, what would have covered any other man with ridicule and disgrace. His success, no doubt, was owing, in part, to his extraordinary personal advanta- ges. Few men have ever received from the hand of Nature so many of the outward qualifications of an orator. In his best days, before he was crippled by the gout, his figure was tall and erect ; his attitude imposing ; his gestures energetic even to ve- hemence, yet tempered with dignity and grace. ^^ Such was the power of his eye, that he very often cowed down an antagonist in the midst of his speech, and threw him into utter confusion, by a single glance of scorn or contempt. AYhenever he rose to speak, his countenance glowed with animation, and was lighted up with all the varied emotions of his soul, so that Cowper describes him, in one of his bursts of pa- triotic feeling, " With all his country beaming in his face." " His voice," says a contemporary, " was both full and clear. His lowest whis- per was distinctly heard ; his middle notes were sweet and beautifully varied ; and, Avhen he elevated his voice to its highest pitch, the House was completely filled with the volume of sound. The effect was awful, except when he wished to cheer or animate ; then he had spirit-stirring notes which were perfectly irresistible." The prevailing character of his delivery was majesty and force. " The crutch in his hand became a weapon of oratory. "^^ Much, howeyer, as he owed to these personal advantages, it was his character as Charleston, S. C, a colossal statue of him, in white marble, was erected by order of the Commons,, who say, in their inscription upon the pedestal, TIME SHALL SOONER DESTROY THIS MARK OF THEIR ESTEEM, THAN ERASE FROM THEIR MINDS THE JUST SENSE OF HIS PATRIOTIC VIRTUE. ^5 Lord Brougham speaks of him as having " a peculiarly defective and even awkward action." This is directly opposed to the testimony of all his contemporaries. Hugh Boyd speaks of " the persuasive gracefulness of his action ;" and Lord Orford says, that his action, on many occasions, was worthy of Garrick. The younger Pitt had an awkwardness of the kind referred to ; and Lord Brougham, who was often hasty and incorrect, probably confounded the father and the son. ^^ Telum Oratoris. — Cicero. " You talk, my Lords, of conquering America ; of your numerous fi-iends there to annihilate the Congress; of your powerful forces to disperse her armies; I might as well talk of driving them before me with this crutch.^' 72 LORD CHATHAM. a man which gave him his surprising ascendency over the minds of his countrymen. There was a fascination for all hearts in his lofty bearing ; his generous sentiments ; his comprehensive policy ; his grand conceptions of the height to which England might be raised as arbiter of Europe ; his preference of her honor over all inferior material interests. There was a fascination, too, for the hearts of all who loved free- dom, in that intense spirit of liberty which was the animating principle of his life. From the day when he opposed Sir Charles Wager's bill for breaking open private houses to press seamen, declaring that he would shoot any man, even an officer of justice, who should thus enter his dwelling, he stood forth, to the end of his days, the Defender of the People's Rights. It was no vain ostentation of liberal principles, no idle pretense to gain influence or office. The nation saw it ; and while Pulteney's defection brought disgrace on the name of " Patriot," the character of Pitt stood higher than ever in the public estimation. His political integrity, no less than his eloquence, formed " an era in the Senate ;" and that comparative elevation of principle which we now find among English politicians, dates back for its commencement to his noble example. It was his glory as a statesman, not that he was always in the right, or even consistent with himself upon minor points ; but that, in an age of shameless prof- ligacy, when political principle was universally laughed at, and every one, in the words of Walpole, " had his price," he stood forth to " stem the torrent of a down- ward age." He could truly say to an opponent, as the great Athenian orator did to ^schines, 'Eyw di] oot Aeyw, otl tuv 7ToXiTevofj,ivG)v napd rolg "F.XXrjat dtacpdapev- Twv a-ndvrcDV^ dp^afievo)v and os, nporepov jxev virb ^iXiTrTre, vvv d' vtt^ ^AXe^dvdps, e[X£ 8T£ Kaipog, nre (piXavOpixi-nla X6yo)v, 8re enayyeALcJv nejEdog, «t' e/Lm^, «t£ (t)66og, tiTExdpig, «t' aAAo nSev enfjpev, hSs TrpOTjydyero^ (Lv eKpiva diKaiojv mat ovfi- (f)ep6vT0)v rxi Trarptdt, sdev npodSvai : " When all our statesmen, beginning with your- self, were corrupted by bribes or office, no convenience of opportunity, or insinuation of address, or magnificence of promises — or hope, or fear, or favor — could induce me to give up for a moment what I considered the rights and interests of the people." Even his enemies were forced to pay homage to his noble assertion of his principles — his courage, his frankness, his perfect sincerity. Eloquent as he was, he impressed every hearer with the conviction, that there was in him something higher than all eloquence. " Every one felt," says a contemporary, " that the man was infinitely greater than the orator." Even Franklin lost his coolness when speaking of Lord Chatham. " I have sometimes," said he, " seen eloquence without wisdom, and often wisdom without eloquence ; but in him I have seen them united in the high- est possible degree." The range of his powers as a speaker was uncommonly wide. He was equally qualified to conciliate and subdue. When he saw fit, no man could be more plausi- ble and ingratiating ; no one had ever a more winning address, or was more adroit in obviating objections and allaying prejudice. When he changed his tone, and chose rather to subdue, he had the sharpest and most massy weapons at command — wit, humor, irony, overwhelming ridicule and contempt. His forte was the terrible ; and he employed with equal ease the indirect mode of attack with which he so often tor- tured Lord Mansfield, and the open, withering invective with which he trampled doM^n Lord Suffolk. His burst of astonishment and horror at the proposal of the latter to let loose the Indians on the settlers of America, is without a parallel in our language for severity and force. In all such conflicts, the energy of his will and his boundless self-confidence secured him the victory. Never did that "erect counte- nance" sink before the eye of an antagonist. Never was he known to hesitate or falter. He had a feeling of superiority over every one around him, which acted on his mind with the force of an inspiration. He k7tew he was right I He kneiv he could save England, and that no one else could do it I Such a spirit, in great crises, LORD CHATHAM. 73 is the unfailing instrument of command both to the general and the orator. We may- call it arrogance ; but even arrogance here operates upon most minds with the po- tency of a charm ; and when united to a vigor of genius and a firmness of purpose like his, men of the strongest intellect fall down before it, and admire — perhaps hate — what they can not resist. {The leading characteristic of eloquence is force ; and force in the orator depends mainly on the action of strongly-excited feeling on a powerful intellect^ The intel- lect of Chatham was of the highest order, and was peculiarly fitted for the broad and rapid combinations of oratory. It was at once comprehensive, acute, and vig- orous ; enabling him to embrace the largest range of thought ; to see at a glance what most men labor out by slow degrees ; and to grasp his subject with a vigor, and hold on to it with a firmness, which have rarely, if ever, been equaled. But his intellect never acted alone. It was impossible for him to speak on any subject in a dry or abstract manner ; all the operations of his mind were pervaded and governed by intense feeling. This gave rise to certain characteristics of his eloquence which may here be mentioned. First, he did not, like many in modern times, divide a speech into distinct copart- ments, one designed to convince the understanding, and another to move the pas- sions and the will. They were too closely united in his own mind to allow of such a separation. All went together, conviction and persuasion, intellect and feeling, hke chain-shot. Secondly, the rapidity and abruptness with which he often flashed his thoughts upon the mind arose from the same source. Deep .emotion strikes directly at its object. It struggles to get free from all secondary ideas — all mere accessories. Hence the simplicity, and even bareness of thought, which we usually find in the great passages of Chatham and Demosthenes. The whole turns often on a single phrase, a word, an allusion. They put forward a few great objects, sharply defined, and standing boldly out in the glowing atmosphere of emotion. They pour their burning thoughts instantaneously upon the mind, as a person might catch the rays of the sun in a concave mirror, and turn them on their object with a sudden and consuming power. Thirdly, his mode of reasoning, or, rather, of dispensing with the forms of argu- ment, resulted from the same cause. It is not the fact, though sometimes said, that Lord Chatham never reasoned. In most of his early speeches, and in some of his later ones, especially those on the right of taxing America, Ave find many examples of argument ; brief, indeed, but remarkably clear and stringent. It is true, however, that he endeavored, as far as possible, to escape from the trammels of formal reason- ing. When the mind is all a-glow with a subject, and sees its conclusions with the vividness and certainty of intuitive truths, it is impatient of the slow process of logical deduction. It seeks rather to reach the point by a bold and rapid progress, throwing away the intermediate steps, and putting the subject at once under such aspects and relations, as to carry its own evidence along with it. Demosthenes was remarkable for thus crushing together proof and statement in a single mass. When, for example, he calls on his judges, ht) tov avridLHov avfidovAov TTotrjoaadaL nepl rov 7xC)(; duov- ELV vfidg ijiov del, ' not to make his enemy their counselor as to the manner in which they should hear his reply,' there is an argument involved in the very ideas brought together — in the juxtaposition of the words avridiKov and ovfidovXov — an argument the more forcible because not drawn out in a regular form. It was so with Lord Chatham. The strength of his feelings bore him directly forward to the results of argument. He affirmed them earnestly, positively ; not as mere assertions, but on the ground of their intrinsic evidence and certainty. John Foster has finely remarked, that " Lord Chatham struck on the results of reasoning as a cannon-shot strikes the 74 LORD CHATHAM. mark, without your seeing its course through the air." Perhaps a bomb-shell would have furnished even a better illustration. It explodes when it strikes, and thus be- comes the most powerful of arguments. Fourthly, this ardor of feeling, in connection \vith his keen penetration of mind, made him often indulge in political prophecy. His predictions were, in many in- stances, surprisingly verified. We have already seen it in the case of Admiral Hawke's victory, and in his quick foresight of a war with Spain in 1762. Eight years after, in the midst of a profound peace, he declared to the House of Lords that the inveterate enemies of England were, at the moment he spoke, striking " a blow of hostility" at her possessions in some quarter of the globe. News arrived at the end of four months that the Spanish governor of Buenos Ayres was, at that very time, in the act of seizing the Falkland Islands, and expelling the English. When this prediction was afterward referred to in Parliament, he remarked, " I will tell these young ministers the true secret of intelligence. It is sagacity — sagacity to compare causes and effects ; to judge of the present state of things, and discern the future by a careful review of the past. Oliver Cromwell, who astonished mankind by his inteUigence, did not derive it from spies in the cabinet of every prince in Eu- rope ; he drew it from the cabinet of his own sagacious mind." As he advanced in years, his tone of admonition, especially on American affairs, became more and more lofty and oracular. He spoke as no other man ever spoke in a great deliberative assembly — as one who felt that the time of his departure was at hand ; who, with- drawn from the ordinary concerns of life, in the words of his great eulogist, " came occasionally into our system to counsel and decide, " Fifthly, his great preponderaace of feeling made him, in the strictest sense of the term, an extemporaneous speaker. His mind was, indeed, richly furnished with thought upon every subject which came up for debate, and the matter he brought forward was always thoroughly matured and strikingly appropriate ; but he seems never to have studied its arrangement, much less to have bestowed any care on the language, imagery, or illustrations. Every thing fell into its place at the moment He poured out his thoughts and feelings just as they arose in his mind ; and hence, on one occasion, when dispatches had been received which could not safely be made public, he said to one of his colleagues, " I must not speak to day ; I shall let out the secret." It is also worthy of remark, that nearly all these great passages, which came with such starthng power upon the House, arose out of some unexpected turn of the debate, some incident or expression which called forth, at the moment, these sudden bursts of eloquence. In his attack on Lord Suffolk, he caught a single glance at "the tapestry which adorned the walls" around him, and one flash of his genius gave us the most magnificent passage in our eloquence. His highest power lay in these sudden bursts of passion. To call them hits, with Lord Brougham, is beneath their dignity and force. " They form," as his Lordship justly observes, " the grand charm of Lord Chatham's oratory ; they were the distinguishing excellence of his great predecessor, and gave him at will to wield the fierce democratic of Athens and to fulmine over Greece." To this intense emotion, thus actuating all his powers. Lord Chatham united a vigorous and lofty imagination, which formed his crowning excellence as an orator. It is this faculty which exalts /orce into the truest and most sublime eloquence. In this respect he approached more nearly than any speaker of modern times, to the great master of Athenian art. It was here, chiefly, that he surpassed Mr. Fox, who was not at all his inferior in ardor of feeling or robust vigor of intellect. Mr. Burke had even more imagination, but it was wild and irregular. It was too often on the wing, circling around the subject, as if to display the grace of its movements or the beauty of its plumage. The imagination of Lord Chatham struck directly at its LORD CHATPIAM. 75 object. It " flew an eagle flight, forth and right on." It never became his master. Nor do we ever find it degenerating into fancy, in the limited sense of that term : it was never fanciful. It was, in fact, so perfectly blended with the other powers of his mind — so simple, so true to nature even in its loftiest flights — that we rarely think of it as imagination at all. The style and language of Lord Chatham are not to be judged of by the early speeches in this volume, down to 1743. Reporters at that day made little or no attempt to give the exact words of a speaker. They sought only to convey his sen- timents, though they might occasionally be led, in writing out his speeches, to catch some of his marked peculiarities of thought or expression. In 1766, his speech against the American Stamp Act was reported, with a considerable degree of verbal accuracy, by Sir Robert Dean, aided by Lord Charlemont. Much, however, was obviously omitted : and passages having an admirable felicity of expression were strangely intermingled Avith tame and broken sentences, showing how imperfectly they had succeeded in giving the precise language of the speaker. Five speeches (to be mentioned hereafter) were written out, from notes taken on the spot by Sir Philip Francis and Mr. Hugh Boyd. One of them is said to have been revised by Lord Chatham himself. These are the best specimens we possess of his style and diction ; and it would be difficult, in the whole range of our literature, to find more perfect models for the study and imitation of the young orator. The words are ad- mirably chosen. The sentences are not rounded or balanced periods, but are made up of short clauses, which flash themselves upon the mind with all the vividness of distinct ideas, and yet are closely connected together as tending to the same point, and uniting to form larger masses of thought. JSTothing can be more easy, varied, and natural than the style of these speeches. There is no mannerism about them. They contain some of the most vehement passages in English oratory ; and yet there is no appearance of eflbrt, no straining after efix^ct. They have this infalhble mark of genius — they make every one feel, that if placed in like circumstances, he would have said exactly the same things in the same manner. " Upon the whole," in the words of Mr. Grattan, " there was in this man something that could create, subvert, or reform ; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence to summon mankind to" so- ciety, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and rule the wildness of free minds with unbounded authority ; something that could establish or overwhelm empire, and strike a blow in the world that should resound through its history." SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS ON THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCE OF WALES, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. APRIL, 29, 1736. INTRODUCTION. This was Mr. Pitt's maiden speech ; and, literally understood, it is a mere string- of courtly compli- ments, expressed in elegant diction. But it seems plainly to have had a deeper meaning. The King, who was extremely irritable, had quaireled with the Prince of Wales, and treated him with great sever- ity. There was an open breach between them. They could not even speak to each other; and although the King desired the marriage, he would not allow the usual Address of Congratulation to be brought in by his ministers. In view of this extraordinary departure from established usage, and the feelings which it indicated on the King's part, Mr. Pitt's emphatic commendations of the yoang prince have a peculiar significance ; while the manner in which he speaks of " the tender, paternal delight" which the King mzist feel in yielding to " the most dutiful application" of his son, has an air of the keenest irony. Viewed in this light, the speech shows great tact and talent in asserting the cause of the Prince, and goading the feelings of the King, in language of the highest respect — the very language which could alone be ap- propriate to such an occasion. SPEECH, &c. I am unable, sir, to offer any thing suitable to the dignity and importance of the subject, which has not already been said by my honorable friend who made the motion. But I am so affected with the prospect of the blessings to be derived by my country from this most desirable, this long- desired measure — the marriage of his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales — that I can not forbear troubling the House with a few words expi-essive of my joy. I can not help mingling my offering, inconsiderable as it is, with this ob- lation of thanks and congratulation to His Maj- esty. However great, sir, the joy of the public may be — and great undoubtedly it is — in receiving this benefit from his Majesty, it must yet be in- ferior to that high satisfaction w^hich he himself enjoys in bestowing it. If I may be allowed to suppose that any thing in a royal mind can trans- cend the pleasure of gratifying the earnest wishes of a loyal people, it can only be the tender, pa- ternal delight of indulging the most dutiful ap- plication, the most humble request, of a submis- sive and obedient son. I mention, sir, his Royal Highness's having asked a marriage, because something is in justice due to him for having asked what we are so strongly bound, by all the ties of duty and gratitude, to return his Majesty our humble acknowledgments for having grant- ed. The marriage of a Prince of Wales, sir, has at all times been a matter of the highest import- ance to the public welfare, to present and to fu- ture generations. But at no time (if a charac- ter at once amiable and respectable can embel- lish, and even dignify, the elevated rank of a Prince of Wales) has it been a more important, dearer consideration than at this day. Were jt not a sort of presumption to follow so great a personage through his hours of retirement, to view him in the milder light of domestic life, we should find him engaged in the noblest exercise of humanity, benevolence, and every social vir- tue. But. sir, however pleasing, however capti- vating such a scene may be, yet, as it is a pri- vate one, I fear I should offend the delicacy of that virtue to which I so ardently desire to do justice, wei-e I to offer it to the consideration of this House. But, sir, filial duty to his royal pa- rents, a generous love of liberty, and a just rev- erence for the British Constitution — these are public virtues, and can not escape the applause and benedictions of the public. These are vir- tues, sir, which render his Royal Highness not only a noble ornament, but a firm support, if any could possibly be wanting, of that throne so great- ly filled by his royal father. I have been led to say thus much of his Royal Highness's character, because it is the consider- ation of that character which, above all things, enforces the justice and goodness of his Majes- ty in the measure now before us — a measure which the nation thought could never be taken too soon, because it brings with it the promise of an additional strength to the Protestant suc- cession in his Majesty's illustrious and royal house. The spirit of liberty dictated that suc- cession ; the same spirit now rejoices in the prospect of its being perpetuated to the latest posterity. It rejoices in the wise and happy choice which his Majesty ha^ been pleased to make of a princess so amiably distinguished in herself, so illustrious in the merit of her Aimily, the glory of whose great ancestor it is to have sacrificed himself in the noblest cause for which a prince can draw a sword — the cause of liberty and the Protestant religion. Such, sir, is the marriage for which our most 1739.] LORD CHATHAM ON THE SPANISH CONVENTION. 77 humble acknowledgments are due to his Maj- esty. May it afford the comfort of seeing the royal family, numerous as, I thank God, it is, still growing and rising up into a thii'd genera- tion ! A family, sir, which I mo.st earnestly hope may be as immortal as those liberties and that constitution which they came to maintain. Sir, I am heartily for the motion. The motion was unanimously agreed to. SPEECH V OF LORD CHATHAM ON THE SPANISH CONVENTION, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS MARCH 8, 1739. INTRODUCTION. Difficulties had arisen between England and Spain, from the measures adopted by the latter to sup- press an illicit trade carried on by English adventurers with the coast of South America. The Spanish cruisers searched British merchantmen found in that quarter, and in so doing, either through mistake or design, committed outrages to a considerable extent upon lawful traders. Exaggerated accounts of these outrages were circulated throughout England. The public mind became greatly inflamed on the subject, and many went so far as to contend that the British flag covered her merchant ships and pro- tected them from search under all circumstances. Walpole opened a negotiation with the Court of Madrid for the redress and removal of these griev- ances. After due examination, the just claims of the English merchants upon Spain were set down at £200,000. On the other hand, the sum of £60,000 was now adjudged, under the stipulations of a former treaty, to be due from England to Spain, for captures made in 1718 by Admiral Byng. The balance due to England was thus settled at £140,000; and Walpole, to avoid the usual delay of the Spaniards in money matters, offered to make an abatement of £45,000 for prompt payment, thus reducing the entire amount to £95,000. To this the Spanish government gave their assent, but on the express condition that this arrangement should be considered as in no way affecting certain claims of Spain on the English South Sea Company. As the result of this negotiation, a Convention was drawn up on the 14th of January, 1739, stipulating for the payment of £95,000 within four months from the exchange of ratifications. It also provided for the removal of all remaining difficulties, by agreeing that commissioners from England and Spain should meet within six weeks, to adjust all questions respecting trade between Europe and the colonies in. America; and also to establish the boundary lines between Florida and the English settlements in Carolina, then embracing Georgia. It further stipulated that, during the sitting of this commission, the erection of for- tifications should be suspended, both in Carolina and Florida. At the moment when this Convention was to be signed, the Spanish government gave notice, that as the South Sea Company was not embraced in this arrangement, the King of Spain held them to be bis debtors to the amount of £68,000, for his share of the profits they had realized under previous engagements ; and that, unless payment was made within a specified time, he would deprive them of the Assicnio, or contract, which he had granted them for supplying Sovath Amei'ica with slaves. Such were the provisions of the famous Spanish Convention, and the circumstances under which it was signed. The House of Commons appointed March 6th, 1739, for considering this Convention. The public mind was gi'eatly agitated on the subject. There was a general outcry against it, as betraying at once the interests of the merchants and the honor of the country. Such was the excitement and expectation when the day arrived, that four hundred members took their seats in the House at 8 o'clock A.M., five hours before the time appointed for entering upon business. Two days were spent in examining witnesses and hearing numerous written documents relating to the subject. On the 8th of March, Mr. Horace ^Val- pole, brother to the minister, after a long and able speech, moved in substance that " the House return thanks to his Majesty for communicating the Convention ; for having taken measures to obtain speedy payment for the losses sustained by the merchants; and also for removing similar abuses in future, and preserving a lasting peace." After a number of members had expressed their views, Mr. Pitt rose and delivered the following speech, which gave him at once, and at the age of thirty, that ascendency as a speaker in the House of Commons which he afterward maintained. S P E E C H, &0. Sir, — There certainly has never been in Par- liament a matter of more high national concern than the Convention referred to the considera- tion of this committee ; and, give me leave to say, there can not be a more indirect manner of taking the sense of the committee upon it than by the complicated question that is now before you. We have here the soft name of an humble ad- dress to the Throne proposed, and for no other end than to lead gentlemen into an approbation of the Convention. Is this that full, deliberate 78 LORD CHATHAM ON THE SPANISH CONVENTION. [1739. examination, which we were with defiance called upon to give to this Convention ? Is this cursory, blended disquisition of matters of such variety and extent, all that we owe to ourselves and to our country ? When trade is at stake, it is your last intrenchment ; you must defend it or perish ; and whatever is to decide that^ deserves the most distinct consideration, and the most direct, undis- guised sense of Parliament. But how are we now proceeding ? Upon an artificial, ministerial question. Here is all the confidence, here is the conscious sense of the greatest service that ever was done to this country !^ to be complicating questions, to be lumping sanction and approba- tion, like a commissary's account ! to be cover- ing and taking sanctuary in the royal name, in- stead of meeting openly, and standing fairly, the direct judgment and sentence of Parliament upon -the several articles of this Convention. ■==- You have been moved to vote an humble ad- dress of thanks to his Majesty for a measure which (I will appeal to gentlemen's conversation in the world) is odious throughout the kingdom. Such thanks are only due to the fatal influence that framed it, as are due for that low, unallied condition abroad which is now made a plea for this Convention. To what are gentlemen reduced in support of it ? They first try a little to defend it upon its own merits ; if that is not tenable, they throw out general terrors — the House of Bourbon is united, who knows the consequence of a war ? Sir, Spain knows the consequence of a war in Amer- ica. Whoever gains, it must prove fatal to her. She knows it, and must therefore avoid it ; but she knows that England does not dare to make it. And what is a delay, which is all this mag- nified Convention is sometimes called, to pro- duce ? Can it produce such conjunctures as those which you lost while you were giving kingdoms to Spain, and all to bring her back again to that great branch of the house of Bourbon which is now held out to you as an object of so much terror? If this union be formidable, are we to delay only till it becomes more formidable, by being carried farther into execution, and by being more strongly cemented ? But be it what it will, is this any longer a nation ? Is this any longer an English Parliament, if, with more ships in your harbors than in all the navies of Europe ; with above two millions of people in your Amer- ican colonies, you will bear to hear of the expe- diency of receiving from Spain an insecure, un- satisfactory, dishonorable Convention ? Sir, I call it no more than it has been proved in this debate ; it carries fallacy or downright subjec- tion in almost every line. It has been laid open and exposed in so many strong and glaring lights, that I can not pretend to add any thing to the conviction and indignation which it has raised. Sir, as to the great national objection, the searching of your ships, that favorite word, as it 1 Alluding to the extravagant terms of praise in which Mr. H. Walpole had spoken of the Conven- tion, and of those Who framed it. was called, is not, indeed, omitted in the pream- ble to the Convention, but it stands there as the reproach of the whole, as the strongest evidence of the fatal submission that follows. On the part of Spain, a usurpation, an inhuman tyranny, claim- ed and exercised over the American seas ; on the part of England, an undoubted right by treaties, and from God and nature declared and asserted in the resolutions of Parliament, are referred to the discussion of plenipotentiaries upon one and the same equal footing ! Sir, I say this undoubt- ed right is to be discussed and to be regulated ! And if to regulate be to prescribe rules (as in all construction it is), this right is, by the ex- press words of this Convention, to be given up and sacrificed ; for it must cease to be any thing from the moment it is submitted to limits. The court of Spain has plainly told you (as appears by papers upon the table), that you shall steer a due course, that you shall navigate by a line to and from your plantations in America — if you draw near to her coast (though, from the circumstances of the navigation, you are under an unavoidable necessity of doing so), you shall be seized and confiscated. If, then, upon these terms only she has consented to refer, what be- comes at once of all the security we are flattered with in consequence of this reference ? Pleni- potentiaries are to regulate finally the respective pretensions of the two crowns with regard to trade and navigation in America : but does a man in Spain reason that these pretensions must be regulated to the satisfaction and honor of En- gland ? No, sir, they conclude, and with reason, from the high spirit of their administration, from the superiority with which they have so long treated you, that this reference must end, as it has begun, to their honor and advantage. But, gentlemen say, the treaties subsisting are to be the measure of this regulation. Sir, as to treaties, I will take part of the words of Sir Will- iam Temple, quoted by the honorable gentle- man near me ; it is vain to negotiate and to make treaties, if there is not dignity and vigor sufficient to enforce their observance. Under the miscon- struction and misrepresentation of these very treaties subsisting, this intolerable grievance has arisen. It has been growing upon you, treaty after treaty, through twenty years of negotiation, and even under the discussion of commissaries, to whom it was referred. You have heard from Captain Yaughan, at your bar, at what time these injuries and indignities were continued. As a kind of explanatory comment upon this Convention which Spain has thought fit to grant you, as another insolent protest, under the valid- ity and force of which she has suffered this Con- vention to be proceeded upon, .she seems to say, " We will treat with you, but we will search and take your ships ; we will sign a Convention, but we will keep your subjects prisoners in Old Spain ; the West Indies are remote ; Europe shall witness in what manner we use you." Sir, as to the inference of an admission of our right not to be searched, drawn from a rep- aration made for ships unduly seized and confis- 1741.] LORD CHATHAM AGAINST SEARCH-WARRANTS. 79 cated, I think that arfrument very inconclusive. The right claimed by Spain to search our ships is one thing, and the excesses admitted to have been committed in consequence of this pretend- ed right is another. But surely, sir, to reason from inference and implication only, is below the dignity of your proceedings upon a right of this vast importance. * What this reparation is, what sort of composition for your losses forced upon you by Spain, in an instance that has come to light, where your own commissaries could not in conscience decide against your claim, has fully appeared upon examination ; and as for the pay- ment of the sum stipulated (all but seven-and- twenty thousand pounds, and that, too, subject to a drawback), it is evidently a fallacious nominal payment only. I will not attempt to enter into the detail of a dark, confused, and scarcely in- telligible account ; I will only beg leave to con- clude with one word upon it, in the light of a submission as well as of an adequate reparation. Spain stipulates to pay to the Crown of England ninety-five thousand pounds ; by a preliminary protest of the King of Spain, the South Sea Com- pany is at once to pay sixty-eight thousand of it : if they refuse, Spain, I admit, is still to pay the ninety-five thousand pounds ; but how does it stand then? The Assiento Contract is to be suspended. You are to purchase this sum at the price of an exclusive trade, pursuant to a national treaty, and of an immense debt of God knows how many hundred thousand pounds, due from Spain to the South Sea Company. Here, sir, is the submission of Spain by the payment of a stipulated sum ; a tax laid upon subjects of England, under the severest penalties, with the reciprocal accord of an English minister as a preliminary that the Convention may be signed ; a condition imposed by Spain in the most abso- lute, imperious manner, and most ramely and abjectly received by the ministers of England, Can any verbal distinctions, any evasions what- ever, possibly explain away this public infamy ? To whom would we disguise it ? To ourselves and to the nation ! I wish we could hide it from the eyes of ev«ry court in Europe. They see that Spain has talked to you like your master. They see this arbitrary fundamental condition standing forth with a pre-eminence of shame, as a part of this very Convention. This Convention, sir, I think from my soul, is nothing but a stipulation for national ignominy ; an illusory expedient to baffle the resentment of the nation ; a truce, without a suspension of hos- tilities, on the part of Spain ; on the part of En- gland, a suspension, as to Georgia, of the first law of nature, self-preservation and self-defense ; a surrender of the rights and trade of England to the mercy of plenipotentiaries, and, in this in- finitely highest and most sacred point — future security — not only inadequate, but directly re- pugnant to the resolutions of Parliament and the gracious promise from the Throne. The com- plaints of your despairing merchants, and the voice of England, have condemned it. Be the guilt of it upon the head of the adviser : God forbid that this conmiittee should share the guilt by approving it ! The motion was carried by a very small ma- jority, the vote being 260 to 232. Mr. Burke's statement respecting the merits of this question, as it afterward appeared, even to those who took the most active part against the Convention, may be found in his Regicide Peace. Whether Lord Chatham was one of the persons referred to by Mr. Burke as having changed their views, does not appear, but it is rather presumed not. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM AGAINST SEARCH-WARRANTS FOR SEAMEN, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, MARCH 6, 1741. INTRODUCTION. War was declared against Spain in October, 1739, and it soon became extremely difficult to man the British fleets. Hence a bill was brought forward by Sir Charles Wager, in January, 1741, conferring au- thority on Justices of the Peace to issue search-warrants, under which constables might enter private dwellings either by day or by night — and, if need be, might force the doors — for the purpose of discovering seamen, and impressing them into the public service. So gross an act of injustice awakened the indig- nation of Mr. Pitt, who poured out the following invective against the measure, and those who were en- deavoring to force it on the House. S P E E C H, &c. Sir, — The two honorable and learned gentle- men^ who spoke in favor of this clause, were pleased to show that our seamen are half slaves already, and now they modestly desire you should 1 The Attorney and Solicitor General, Sir Dudley Ryder and Sir John Sti'ange. The former was sub- sequently Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, and the latter Master of the Rolls. make them wholly so. Will this increase your number of seamen ? or will it make those you have more willing to serve you ? Can you expect that any man will make himself a slave if he can avoid it ? Can you expect that any man will breed his child up to be a slave ? Can you ex- pect that seamen will venture their lives or their limbs for a country that has made them slaves ? 80 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST SEARCH-WARRANTS. [1741. or can you expect that any seaman will stay in the country, if he can by any means make his escape ? Sir, if you pass this law, you must, in my opinion, do with your seamen as they do with their galley-slaves in France — you must chain them to their ships, or chain them in couples when they are ashore. But suppose this should both increase the number of your seamen, and render them more willing to serve you, it will render them incapable. ^ It is a common observation, that when a man becomes a slave, he loses half his virtue?* What will it signify to have your ships all manned to their full complement ? Your men will have neither the courage nor the temptation to fight ; they will strike to the first enemy that attacks them, because their condition can not be made worse by a surrender. Our seamen have always been famous for a matchless alacrity and intrepidity in time of danger ; this has saved many a Brit- ish ship, when other seamen would have run be- low deck, and left the ship to the mercy of the waves, or, perhaps, of a more cruel enemy, a pi- rate. For God's sake, sir, let us not, by our new projects, put our seamen into such a condi- tion as must soon make them worse than the cowardly slaves of France or Spain. The learned gentlemen were next pleased to show us that the government were already pos- sessed of such a power as is now desired. And how did they show it? Why, sir, by showing that this was the practice in the case of felony, and in the case of those who are as bad as lelons, I mean those who rob the public, or dissipate the public money. Shall we, sir, put our brave sailors upon the same footing with felons and public robbers ? Shall a brave, honest sailor be treated as a felon, for no other reason but be- cause, after a long voyage, he has a mind to sol- ace himself among his friends in the country, and 'for that purpose absconds for a few weeks, in order to prevent his being pressed upon a Spit- head, or some such pacific expedition? For I dare answer for it, there is not a sailor in Brit- ain but would immediately offer his services, if he thought his country in any real danger, or expected to be sent upon an expedition where he might have a chance of gaining riches to himself and glory to his country. I am really ashamed, sir, to hear such arguments made use of in any case where our seamen are concerned. Can we expect that brave men will not resent such treatment ? Could we expect they would stay with us, if we should make a law for treat- ing them in such a contemptible manner? But suppose, sir, we had no regard for our seamen, I hope we shall have some regard for the rest of the people, and for ourselves in par- ticular ; for 1 think I do not in the least exag- gerate when I say, we are laying a trap for the lives of all the men of spirit in the nation. Whether the law, when made, is to be carried into execution, I do not know ; but if it is, we are laying a snare for our own lives. Every gentleman of this House must be supposed, I hope justly, to be a man of spirit. Would any of you, gentlemen, allow this law to be executed in its full extent? If, at midnight, a petty con- stable, with a press-gang, should come thunder- ing at the gates of your house in the country, and should tell you he had a search-warrant, and must search your house for seamen, would you at that time of night allow your gates to be opened ? I protest I would not. What, then, would be the consequence ? He has by this law a power to break them open. Would any of you patiently submit to such an indignity ? Would not you fire upon him, if he attempted to break open your gates ? I declare I would, let the consequence be never so fatal; and if you happened to be in the bad graces of a minister, the consequence would be your being either kill- ed in the fray, or hanged for killing the consta- ble or some of his gang. This, sir, may be the case of even some of us here ; and, upon my honor, I do not think it an exaggeration to sup- pose it may. The honorable gentlemen say no other remedy has been proposed. Sir, there have been several other remedies proposed. Let us go into a com- mittee to consider of what has been, or may be proposed. Suppose no other remedy should be offered : to tell us we must take this, because no other remedy can be thought of, is the same with a physician's telling his patient, " Sir, there is no known remedy for your distemper, there- fore you shall take poison — I'll cram it down your throat." I do not know how the nation may treat its physicians ; but, I am sure, if my ph3'sician told me so, I should order my servants to turn him out of doors. Such desperate remedies, sir, are never to be applied but in cases of the utmost extremity, and how we come at present to be in such ex- tremity I can not comprehend. In the time of Queen Elizabeth we were not thought to be in any such extremity, though we were then threat- ened with the most formidable invasion that was ever prepared against this nation. In our wars with the Dutch, a more formidable maritime power than France and Spain now would be, if they were united against us, we were not sup- posed to be in any such extremity, either in the time of the Commonwealth or of King Charles the Second. In King William's war against Fi-ance, when her naval power was vastly supe- rior to what it is at present, and when we had more reason to be afraid of an invasion than we can have at present, we were thought to be in no such extremity. In Queen Anne's time, when we were engaged in a war both against France and Spain, and were obliged to make great lev- ies yearly for the land service, no such remedy was ever thought of, except for one year only, and then it was found to be far from being ef- fectual. This, sir, I am convinced, would be the case now, as well as it was then. It was at that time computed that, by means of such a law as this, there were not above fourteen hundred sea- men brought into the service of the government; and, considering the methods that have been al- 1741] LORD CHATHAM'S REPLY TO HORATIO WALPOLE. 81 ready taken, and the reward proposed by this bill to be offered to volunteers, I am convinced that the most strict and general search would not bring in half the number. Shall we, then, for the sake of adding six or seven hundred, or even fourteen hundred seamen to his Majesty's navy, expose our Constitution to so much dan- ger, and every housekeeper in the kingdom to the danger of being disturbed at all hours in the night ? But suppose this law were to have a great effect, it can be called nothing but a temporary expedient, because it can in no way contribute toward increasing the number of our seamen, or toward rendering them more willing to enter into his Majesty's service. It is an observation made by Bacon upon the laws passed in Henry the Seventh's reign, that all of them were cal- culated for futurity as well as the present time.^ This showed the wisdom of his councils ; I wish I could say so of our present. We have for some years thought of nothing but expedients for getting rid of some present inconvenience by running ourselves into a greater. The ease or convenience of posterity was never less thought of, I believe, than it has been of late years. I wish I could see an end of these temporaiy ex- pedients ; for we have been pursuing them so long, that we have almost undone our country and overturned our Constitution. Therefore, sir, I shall be for leaving this clause out of the bill, and every other clause relating to it. The bill will be of some service without them ; and when w^e have passed it, we may then go into a com- mittee to consider of some lasting methods for increasing our stock of seamen, and for encour- aging them upon all occasions to enter into his Majesty's service. In consequence of these remarks, all the claus- es relating to search-warrants were ultimatelj struck out of the bill. It was during this debate that the famous al tercation took place between Mr. Pitt and Ho- ratio Walpole, in which the latter endeavored to put down the young orator by representing him as having too little experience to justify his dis- cussing such subjects, and charging him with "petulancy of invective," "pompous diction," and " theatrical emotion." The substance of Mr. Pitt's reply was reported to Johnson, who wrote it out in his own language, formino- one of the most bitter retorts in English oratory. It has been so long connected with the name of Mr. Pitt, that the reader would regret its omis- sion in this w^ork. It is therefore given below, not as a specimen of his style, which was exact- ly the reverse of the sententious manner and bal- anced periods of Johnson, but as a general ex- hibition of the sentiments which he expressed. REPLY OF LORD CHATHAM WHEN ATTACKED BY HORATIO WALPOLE, DELIVERED MARCH 6, 174L Sir, — The atrocious crime of being a young man, which the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny, but content myself with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies may cease with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproach, I will not, sir, assume the province of determining ; but surely age may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without im- provement, and vice appears to prevail when the passions have subsided. The wretch who, after having seen the consequences of a thousand er- rors, continues still to blunder, and whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object of either abhorrence or contempt, and • -* 2 " Certainly his (Henry the Seventh's) times for good commonwealth's laws did excel, so as he may justly be celebrated for the best lawgiver to this nation after King Edward the First; for his laws, whoso marks them well, are deep, and not vulgar; not made upon the spur of a particular occasion for the present, but out of providence for the future, to make the estate of his people still more and more happy, after the manner of the legislators in ancient and heroical times.'" — Bacon's Works, vol. iii., p. 233, edition 1834. deserves not that his gray hairs should secure him from insult. Much more, sir, is he to be abhorred, who, as he has advanced in age, has receded from virtue, and becomes more wicked with less temptation ; who prostitutes himself for money which he can not enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country. But youth, sir, is not my only crime ; I have been accused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either imply some peculiar- ities of gesture, or a dissimulation of my real sentiments, and an adoption of the opinions and language of another man. In the first sense, sir, the charge is too trifling to be confuted, and deserves only to be mention- ed to be despised. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language ; and though, perhaps, I may have some ambition to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself un- der any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his diction or his mien, however matured by age, or modeled by experience. If any man shall, by charging me with theatrical behavior, imply that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumniator and a villain ; nor shall any protection shelter him from the treatment he deserves. I shall, on such an occasion, with- out scruple, trample upon all those forms with which wealth and dignity intrench themselves. LORD CHATHAM AGAINST [1742. nor shall any thing but age restrain my resent- ment — age, which always brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious without punishment. But with regard, sir, to those whom I have offended, I am of opinion, that if I had acted a borrowed part, I should have avoid- ed their censure. The heat that offended them is the ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my country which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit unconcerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. I will ex- ert my endeavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag the thief to justice, who- ever may protect them in their villainy, and whoever may partake of their plunder. And if the honorable gentleman — [At this point Mr. Pitt was called to order by Mr. Wynnington, who went on to say, " No di- versity of opinion can justify the violation of de- cency, and the use of rude and virulent expres- sions, dictated only by resentment, and uttered without regard to — " Here Mr. Pitt called to order, and proceeded thus :] Sir, if this be to preserve order, there is no danger of indecency from the most licentious tongues. For what calumny can be more atro- cious, what reproach more severe, than that of speaking with regard to any thing but truth. Order may sometimes be broken by passion or inadvertency, but will hardly be re-established by a monitor like this, who can not govern his own passions while he is restraining the impetu- osity of others. Happy would it be for mankind if every one knew his own province. We should not then see the .same man at once a criminal and a judge ; nor would this gentleman assume the right of dictating to others what he has not learned him- self. That I may return in some degree the favor he intends me, I will advise him never hereafter to exert himself on the subject of order ; but whenever he feels inclined to speak on such oc- casions, to remember how he has now succeed- ed, and condemn in silence what his censures will never amend. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR INQUIRING INTO THE CONDUCT OF SIR ROBERT WAL- POLE, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, MARCH 9, 1742. INTRODUCTION. Sir Robert Walpole was driven from power on the 11th of February, 1742. So greatly were the public excited against him, that the cry of "blood" was heard from every quarter; and a motion was made by Lord Limerick, on the 9th of Mai'ch, 1742, for a committee " to inquire into the conduct of affairs at home and abroad during the last twenty years." This, of course, gave the widest scope for arraign- ing the conduct of the ex-minister; while, at the same time, no specific charges were requisite, because the question was simply on an inquiry, which was expected to develop the evidence of his guilt. This motion was strongly opposed by Walpole's friends, and especially by Mr. Henry Pelhara, who re- marked, in allusion to one of the preceding speakers, that "it would very much shorten the debate if gen- tlemen would keep close to the argument, and not run into long harangues or flowers of rhetoric, which might be introduced upon any other subject as well as the present." Mr. Pitt followed, and took his ex- ordium from this sarcasm of Mr. Pelham. He then went fully, and with great severity of remark, into a review of the most important measures of Walpole's administration. This led him over the same ground which had been previously traversed by Walpole, in his defense against the attack of Mr. Sandys and others about a year before. The reader will therefore find it interesting to compare this speech on the several points, 3S they come up, with that of Walpole, which is given on a preceding page. He will there see some points explained in the notes, by means of evidence which was not accessible to the public at the time of this discussion. SPEECH, &c. What the gentlemen on the other side mean by long harangues or flowers of rhetoric, I shall not pretend to determine. But if they make use of nothing of the kind, it is no very good argu- ment of their sincerity, because a man who speaks from his heart, and is sincerely alTected with the subject upon which he speaks (as every honest man must be when he .speaks in the cause of his country), such a man, I say, falls natu- rally into expressions which may be called flow- ers of rhetoric ; and, therefore, deserves as little to be charged with afTectation, as the most stu- pid sergeant-at-law that ever spoke for a half- guinea fee. For my part, I have heard nothing in favor of the qilestion but what I think very proper, and very much to the purpose. What has been said, indeed, on the other side of the question, especially the long justification that has been made of our late measures, I can not think so proper ; because this motion is founded upon the present melancholy situation of affairs, and upon the general clamor without doors, against the conduct of our late public servants. Either of these, with me, shall always be a suffi- 1742] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 83 cient reason for agreeing to a parliamentary in- quiry ; because, without such inquiry, I can not, even in my own mind, enter into the disquisition whether our public measures have been right or not ; without such inquiry, I can not be furnished with the necessary information. But the honorable gentlemen who oppose this motion seem to mistake, I do not say willfully, the difference between a motion for an impeach- ment and a motion for an inquiry. If any mem- ber of this House were to stand up in his place, and move to impeach a minister, he would be obliged to charge him with some particular crimes or misdemeanors, and produce some proof, or declare that he was ready to prove the facts. But any gentleman may move for an in- quiry^ without any particular allegation, and without offering any proof, or declaring what he is ready to prove ; because the very design of an inquiry is to find out particular facts and par- ticular proofs. The general circumstances of things, or general rumors without doors, are a sufficient foundation for such a motion, and for the House agreeing to it when it is made. This, sir, has always been the practice, and has been the foundation of almost all the inquiries that have ever been set on foot in this House, espe- cially those that have been carried on by secret and select committees. What other foundation was there for the secret committee appointed in the year 1694 (to go no further back), to inquire into, and inspect the books and accounts of the East India Company, and of the Chamberlain of London ?^ Nothing but a general rumor that some corrupt practices had been made use of. What was the foundation of the inquiry in the year 1715 ?'-^ Did the honorable gentleman who moved the appointment of the secret committee upon the latter occasion, charge the previous administration with any particular crimes ? Did he offer any proofs, or declare that he was ready to prove any thing ? It is said, the measures pursued by that administration were condemned by a great majority of the House of Commons. What, sir ! were those ministers condemned be- fore they were heard? Could any gentleman be so unjust as to pass sentence, even in his own mind, upon a measure before he had inquired into it ? He might, perhaps, dislike the Treaty of Utrecht, but, upon inquiry, it might appear to be the best that could be obtained ; and it has since been so far justified, that it appears at least as good, if not better, than any treaty we have subsequently made. Sir, it was not the Treaty of Utrecht, nor any measure openly pursued by the administration which negotiated it, that was the foundation or the cause of an inquiry into their conduct. It was the loud complaints of a great party against them ; and the general suspicion of their having carried on treasonable negotiations in favor of the Pretender, and for defeating the Protestant succession. The inquiry was set on foot in or- 1 See Pari. Hist, vol. v., p. 896 and 900. 2 Ibid., vol. vii., p. 53. der to detect those practices, if any .such exist- ed, and to find proper evidence for convicting the offenders. The same argument holds with regard to the inquiry into the management of the South Sea Company in the year 1721.^ When that affair was first moved in the House by Mr. Neville, he did not, he could not, charge the directors of that company, or any of them, with any particular delinquencies ; nor did he attempt to offer, or say that he was ready to offer, any particular proofs. His motion was, '" That the directors of the South Sea Company should forthwith lay before the House an account of their proceedings," and it was founded upon the general circumstances of things, the distress brought upon the public credit of the nation, and the general and loud complaints without doors. This motion, indeed, reasonable as it was, we know was opposed by the Court party at the time, and, in particular, by two doughty broth- ers,^ who have been attached to the Court ever since ; but their opposition raised such a warmth in the House, that they were glad to give it up, and never after durst directly oppose that in- quiry. I wish I could now see the same zeal for public justice. The circumstances of affairs I am sure deserve it. Our public credit was then, indeed, brought into distress ; but now the nation itself, nay, not only this nation, but all our friends upon the Continent, are brought into the most imminent danger. ^ This, sir, is admitted even by those who op- pose this motion ; and if they have ever lately conversed with those that dare speak their minds, they must admit, that the murmurs of the peo- ple against the conduct of the administration are now as general and as loud as ever they were upon any occasion. But the misfortune is, that gentlemen who are in office seldom converse with any but such as either are, or want to be, in office ; and such men, let them think as they will, will al- ways applaud their superiors ; consequentl}"^, gen- tlemen who are in the admini.stration, or in any office under it, can rarely know the voice ol' the people. The voice of this House was formerly, I grant, and always ought to be, the voice of the people. If new Parliaments were more fre- quent, and few placemen, and no pensioners, ad- mitted, it would be so still ; but if long Parlia- ments be continued, and a corrupt influence should prevail, not only at elections, but in this House, the voice of this House will generally be very different from, nay, often directly contrary to, the voice of the people. However, as this is not, 1 believe, the case at present, I hope there is a majority of us who know what is the voice of the people. And if it be admitted by all that the nation is at present in the utmost distress and danger, if it be admitted by a ma- jority that the voice of the people is loud against the conduct of our late administration, this mo- tion must be agreed to, because I have shown that these two circumstances, without any par- 3 Ibid., p. 685. * Sir Robert and Mr. Horatio Walpole. 84 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST [1742. ticular charge, have been the foundation of al- most every parliamentary inquiry. I readily admit, sir, that we have very little to do with the character or reputation of a min- ister, but as it always does, and must affect our sovereign. But the people may become disaf- fected as well as discontented, w'hen they find the King continues obstinately to employ a min- ister who, they think, oppresses them at home and betrays them abroad. We are, therefore, in duty to our sovereign, obliged to inquire into the conduct of a minister when it becomes gen- erally suspected by the people, in order that we may vindicate his character if he be innocent of the charges brought against him, or, if he be guilty, that w^e may obtain his removal from the councils of our sovereign, and also condign pun- ishment on his crimes. After having said thus much, sir, I need scarce- ly answer what has been asserted, that no par- liamentary inquiry ought ever to be instituted, unless we are convinced that something has been done amiss. Sii*, the very name given to this House of Parliament proves the contrary. We are called The Grand Inquest of the Nation ; and, as such, it is our duty to inquire into every step of public management, both abroad and at home, in order to see that nothing has been done amiss. It is not necessary, upon every occasion, to establish a secret committee. This is never necessary but when the affairs to be brought be- fore it, or some of those affairs, are supposed to be of such a nature as to require secrecy. But, as experience has shown that nothing but a su- perficial inquiry is ever made by a general com- mittee, or a committee of the w^hole House, I wish that all estimates and accounts, and many other affairs, were respectively referred to select committees. Their inquiries would be more ex- act, and the receiving of their reports would not occupy so much of our time as is represented. But, if it did, our duty being to make strict in- quiries into every thing relative to the public, our assembling hei-e being for that purpose, we must perform our duty before we break up ; and his present Majesty, I am sure, wnll never put an end to any session till that duty has been fully performed. It is said by some gentlemen, that by this in- quiry we shall be in danger of discovering the secrets of our government to our enemies. This argument, sir, by proving too much, proves noth- ing. If it were admitted, it would always have been, and its admission forever will be, an argu- ment against our inquiring into any affair in which our government can be supposed to be concerned. Our inquiries would then be-con- fiined to the conduct of our little companies,, or of inferior custom-house officers and excisemen ; for, if we should presume to inquire into the con- duct of commissioners or of great companies, it would be said the government had a concern in their conduct, and the secrets of government must not be divulged. Every gentleman must see that this would be the consequence of ad- mitting such an argument. But, besides, it is false in fact, and contrary to experience. We have had many parliamentary inquiries into the conduct of ministers of state ; and yet I defy any one to show that any state affair which ought to have been concealed was thereby discovered, or that our affairs, either abroad or at home, ever suffered by any such discovery. There are methods, sir, of preventing papers of a very se- cret nature from coming into the hands of the servants attending, or even of all the members of a secret committee. If his Majesty should, by message, inform us, that some of the papers sealed up and laid before us required the utmost secrecy, we might refer them to our committee, instructing them to order only two or three of their number to inspect such papers, and to re- port from them nothing but what they thought might safely be communicated to the whole. By this method, I presume, the danger of dis- covery would be effectually removed ; this dan- ger, therefore, is no good argument against a parliamentary inquiry. The other objection, sir, is really surprising, because it is founded upon a circumstance which, in all former times, has been admitted as a strong argument in favor of an immediate in- quiry. The honorable gentlemen are so ingen- uous as to confess that our affairs, both abroad and at home, are at present in the utmost em- barrassment ; but, say they, you ought to free yourselves from this embarrassment before you inquire into the cause of it. Sir, according to this way of arguing, a minister who has plun- dered and betrayed his country, and fears being called to an account in Parliament, has nothing to do but to involve his country in a dangerous war, or some other great distress, in order to prevent an inquiry into his conduct ; because he may be dead before that war is at an end, or that distress is surmounted. Thus, like the most detestable of all thieves, after plundering the house, he has only to set it on fire, that he may escape in the confusion. It is really astonishing to hear such an argument seriously urged in this House. But, say these gentlemen, if you found yourself upon a precipice, would you stand to inquire how you were led there, before you con- sidered how to get off? No, sir ; but if a guide had led me there, I should very probably be pro- voked to throw him over, before I thought of any thing else. At least I am sure I should not trust to the same guide for bringing me off; and this, sir, is the strongest argument that can be used for an inquiry. We have been, for these twenty years, under the guidance, I may truly say, of one man — of one single minister. We now, at last, find our- selves upon a dangerous precipice. Ought we not, then, immediately to inquire, whether we have been led upon this precipice by his igno- rance or wickedness ; and if by either, to take care not to trust to his guidance for our safety ? This is an additional and a stronger argument for this inquiry than ever was urged for any for- mer one, for, if we do not inquire, we shall prob- ably remain under his guidance ; because, though 1742.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 85 he bo removed from the Treasury Board, he is not removed from the King's Court, nor will he be, probably, unless it be by our advice, or un- less we lodge him in a place at the other end of the town [i. e., the Tower], where he can not so well injure his country. Sir, our distress at home evidently proceeds from want of economy, and fi-om our having incurred many unnecessaiy expenses. Our distress and danger abroad are evidently owing to the misconduct of the w^ar with Spain, and to the little confidence which our natural and ancient allies have reposed in our councils. This is so evident, that I should not think it necessary to enter into any particular explanation, if an honorable gentleman on the other side had not attempted to justify most of our late measures both abroad and at home. But as he has done so, though not, in my opin- ion, quite to the purpose of the present debate, I hope I shall be allowed to make some remarks upon what he has said on the subject ; begin- ning, as he did, with the measures taken for pun- ishing the South Sea directors, and restoring public credit after the terrible shock it received in the year 1720. As those measures, sir, were aan^ong the first exploits of our late (I fear I must^?all him our present) prime minister, and as the committee proposed, if agreed to, will probably consist of one-and-twenty members, I wish the motion had extended one 3^ear further back, that the number of years might have corresponded vrith the number of inquirers, and that it might have comprehended the first of those measures to which I have before alluded. As it now stands, it will not comprehend the methods taken for punishing the directors [of the South Sea Com- pany], nor the first regulation made for restor- ing public credit ; and with regard to both, some practices might be discovered that would de- serve a much severer punishment than any of those directors experienced. Considering the many frauds made use of by the directors and their agents for luring people to their ruin, I am not a little surprised to hear it now said that their punishment was considered too severe. Justice by the lump w^as an epithet given to it, not because it was thought too severe, but be- cause it was an artifice to screen the most hei- nous offenders, who, if they did not deserve death, deserved, at least, to partake of that total ruin which they had brought upon many un- thinking men. They very ill deserved, sir, those allowances which were made them by Parlia- ment. Then, sir, as to public credit, its speedy res- toration was founded upon the conduct of the nation, and not upon the wisdom or justice of the measures adopted. Was it a wise method to i-e- mit to the South Sea Company the whole seven millions, or thereabouts, which they had solemn- ly engaged to pay to the public ? It might as well be said, that a private man's giving away a great part of his estate to those who no way deserved it, would be a wise method of reviving or establishinji his credit. If those seven mill- ions had been distributed among the poor sort of annuitants, it would have been both generous and charitable ; but to give it among the propri- etors in general w^as neither generous nor just, because most of them deserved no favor from the public. As the proceedings of the directors were authorized by general courts, those who were then the proprietors were in some measure accessary to the frauds of the directors, and therefore deserved to be punished rather than x-e warded, as they really were ; because every one of them who continued to hold stock in that company received nearly fifty per cent., added to his capital, most part of which arose from the high price annuitants were, by act of Parliament, obliged to take stock at, and w^as therefore a most flagrant piece of injustice done to the an- nuitants. But we need not be at a loss for the true cause of this act of injustice, when we con- sider that a certain gentleman had a great many friends among the old stockholders, and few or none among the annuitants. Another act of injustice, which I believe we may ascribe to the same cause, relates to those who were engaged in heavy contracts for stock or subscription, many of whom groan under the load to this very day. For after w'e had, by act of Parliament, quite altered the nature, though not the name, of the stock they had bought, and made it much less valuable than it was when they engaged to pay a high price for it, it was an act of public injustice to leave them liable to be prosecuted at law for the w^hole money which they had engaged to pay. I am sure this was not the method to restore that private credit upon which our trade and navigation so much depend. Had the same regulation been here adopted which was observed toward those who had bor- rowed money of the company, or had a sort of uti possidetis been enacted, by declaring all such .contracts void so far as related to any future payments, this would not have been unjust ; on the contrary, such a i-egulation, sir, was ex- tremely necessary for quieting the minds of the peo[)le, for preventing their ruining one another at law, and for restoring credit between man and man. But there is leason to suppose that a certain gentleman [Walpole] had many friends among the sellers in those contracts, and very few among the buyers, w^hich was the reason that the latter could obtain little or no relief or mercy by any public law or regulation. Then, sir, with regard to the extraordinary grants made to the civil list, the very reason given by the honorable gentleman for justifying those grants is a strong reason for an immediate inquiry. If considerable charges have arisen upon that revenue, let us see what they are ; let us examine whether they were necessary. We have the more reason to do this, because the revenue settled upon his late Majesty's civil list was at least as great as that which was settled upon King William or Queen Anne. Besides, there is a general rumor without doors, that the civil list is now greatly in arrear, which, if true, renders an inquiry absolutely necessary. For it 86 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST [1742. is inconsistent with the honor and dignity of the Crown of these kingdoms to be in arrcar to its tradesmen and servants ; and it is the duty of this House to take care that the revenue which we have settled for supporting the honor and dignity of the Crown, shall not be squandered or misapplied. If former Parliaments have failed in this respect, they must be censured, though they can not be punished ; but we ought now to atone for their neglect. I come now, in course, to the Excise Scheme, which the honorable gentleman says ought to be forgiven, because it was easily given up.*^ Sir, it was not easily given up. The promoter of that scheme did not easily give it up ; he gave it up with sorrow, with tears in his e^'cs, when he saw, and not until he saw, it was im- possible to carry it through the House. Did not his majority decease upon every division ? It was almost certain that if he had pushed it far- ther, his majority would have turned against him. His sorrow showed his disappointment ; and his disappointment showed that his design was deeper than simply to prevent frauds in the customs. He was, at that time, sensible of the influence of the excise laws and excise men with regard to elections, and of the great occasion he should have for that sort of influence at the approaching general election. His attempt, sir, was most flagrant against the Constitution ; and he deserved the treatment he met with from the people. It has been said that there were none but what gentlemen are pleased to call the mob concerned in burning him in effigy f but, as the mob consists chiefly of children, journeymen, and servants, who speak the sentiments of their par- ents and masters, we may thence judge of the sentiments of the higher classes of the people. The honorable gentleman has said, these were all the measures of a domestic nature that could be found fault with, because none other have been mentioned in this debate. Sir, he has al- * The Excise Scheme of Sir Robert "Walpole was simply a warehousing system, under which the du- ties on tobacco and wine were payable, not when the articles were imported, but when they were taken out to be consumed. It was computed, that, in consequence of the check which this change in the mode of collecting the duties on these articles would give to smuggling, the revenue would derive an increase which, with the continuance of the salt tax (revived the preceding year), would be amply sufficient to compensate for the total abolition of the land tax. The political opponents of Sir Rob- ert Walpole, by representing his proposition as a scheme for a general excise, succeeded in raising so violent a clamor against it, and in rendering it so unpopular, that, much against his own inclination, he was obliged to abandon it. It was subsequently approved of by Adam Smith; and Lord Chatham, at a later period of his life, candidly acknowledged, that his opposition to it was founded in misconception. For an interesting account of the proceedings rela- tive to the Excise Scheme, see Lord Hervey's Mem- oirs of the Court of George II., chaps, viii. and ix. ® See Lord Hervey's Memoirs of the Court of George II., vol. i., p. 203. ready heard one reason assigned why no other measures have been particularly mentioned and condemned in this debate. If it were necessary, many others might be mentioned and condemn- ed. Is not the maintaining so numerous an army in time of peace to be condemned ? Is not the fitting out so many expensive and useless squad- rons to be condemned ? Are not the encroach- ments made upon the Sinking Fund j^ the reviv- ing the salt duty ; the rejecting many useful bills and motions in Parliament, and many other do- mestic measures, to be condemned ? The weak- ness or the wickedness of these measures has often been demonstrated. Their ill consequences were at the respective times foretold, and those consequences are now become visible by our distress. Now, sir, with regard to the foreign meas- ures which the honorable gentleman has attempt- ed to justify. The Treaty of Hanover deserves to be first mentioned, because from thence springs the danger to which Europe is now ex- posed ; and it is impossible to assign a reason for our entering into that treaty, without sup- posing that we then resolved to be revenged on the Emperoi^or refusing to grant us some favor in Germany." It is in vain now to insist upon the secret engagements entered into by the courts of Vienna and ^Madrid as the cause of that treaty. Time has fully shown that there never were any such engagements,* and his late "' In the year 1717, the surplus of the public in- come over the public expenditure, was converted into what was called Thot Sinking Fund, for the purpose of liquidating the national debt. Daring the whole reign of George I., this fund was invari- ably appropriated to the object for which it had been created ; and, rather than encroach upon it, money was borrowed upon new taxes, when the supplies in general might have been raised by dedi- cating the surplus of the old taxes to the current services of the year. The first direct encroachment upon the Sinking Fund took place in the year 1729, when the interest of a sum of £1,250,000, required for the current service of the year, was charged on that fund, instead of any new taxes being imposed upon the people to meet it. The second encroach- ment took place in the year 1731, when the income arising from certain duties which had been imposed in the reign of William III., for paying the interest due to the East India Company, and which were now no longer required for that purpose, in conse quence of their interest being reduced, was made use of in order to raise a sum of Xl, 200,000, instead of throwing such income into the Sinking Fund, as ought properly to have been done. A third perver- sion of this fund took place in the year 1733, before the introduction of the Excise Scheme. In the pre- vious year the land tax had been reduced to one shilling in the pound; and, in order to maintain it at the same rate, the sum of £500,000 was taken from the Sinking Fund and applied to the services of the year. In 1734 the sum of £1,200,000. the whole produce of the Sinking Fund, was taken from it ; and in 1735 and 1736, it was anticipated and alienated. — Sinclair's Hist, of the Revenue, vol. i., p. 484, ei seq. Coxe's Walpole, chap. xl. '' Here Lord Chatham was mistaken. It is now certainly known that secret engagements did exist, 1742.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 87 Majesty's speech from the throne can not here be admitted as an}' evidence of the fact. Every one knows that in Parliament the King's speech is considered as the speech of the minister ; and surely a minister is not to be allowed to bring his own speech as an evidence of a fact in his own justification. If it be pretended that his late Majesty had some sort of information, that such engagements had been entered into, that very pretense furnishes an unanswerable argu- ment for an inquiry. For, as the information now appears to have been groundless, w^e ought to inquire into it ; because, if it appears to be such information as ought not to have been be- lieved, that minister ought to be punished who advised his late Majesty to give credit to it, and who, in consequence, has precipitated the nation into the most pernicious measures. At the time this treaty was entered into, we wanted nothing from the Emperor upon our own account. The abolition of the Ostend Company was a demand we had no right to make, nor was it essentially our interest to insist upon it, be- cause that Company would have been more hos- tile to the interests both of the French and Dutch East India trades than to our own ; and if it had been a point that concerned us much, we might probably have gained it by acceding to the Vien- na treaty between the Emperor and Spain, or by guaranteeing the Pragmatic Sanction,^ which we and there is no reason to doubt that the most im- portant of them were correctly stated by Walpole. They were said to have been to the effect, that the Emperor should give in marriage his daughters, the two arch-duchesses, to Don Carlos and Don Philip, the two Infants of Spain ; that he should assist the King of Spain in obtaining by force the restitution of Gibraltar, if good offices would not avail ; and that the two courts should adopt measures to place the Pretender on the throne of Great Britain. The fact of there having been a secret treaty, was placed beyond doubt by the Austrian embassador at the court of London having shown the article relating to Gibraltar in that treaty, in order to clear the Em- peror of having promised any more than his good offices and mediation upon that head. (Coxe's His- tory of the House of Austria, chap, xxxvii.) With reference to the stipulation for placing the Pretend- er on the throne of Great Britain, Mr. J. W. Croker, in a note to Lord Hervey's Memoirs of the Court of George II., vol. i., p. 78, says that its existence " is very probable ;" but that it is observable that Lord Hervey, who revised his Memoirs some years after the 29th of March, 1734, when Sir Robert Walpole as- serted in the House of Commons that there was such a document, and who was so long in the full confi- dence of Walpole, speaks very doubtfully of it. 9 On the 2d of August, 1718, the Emperor Charles VI. promulgated a new law of succession for the in- heritance of the house of Austria, under the name of the Pragmatic Sanction. In this he ordained that, in the event of his having no male issue, his own daughters should succeed to the Austrian throne, in preference to the daughters of his elder brother, as previously provided ; and that such succession should be regulated according to the order of primogeni- ture, so that the elder should be preferred to the younger, and that she should inherit his entire do- minions. afterward did in the most absolute manner, and without an}'^ conditions. ^° We wanted nothing from Spain but a relinquishment of the pretense she had just begun, or, I believe, hardly begun, to set up, in an express manner, with regard to searching and seizing our ships in the American seas ; and this we did not obtain, perhaps did not desire to obtain, by the Treaty of Seville.^^ By that treaty we obtained nothing ; but we ad- vanced another step toward that danger in which Europe is now involved, by uniting the courts of France and Spain, and by laying a foundation for a new breach between the courts of Spain and Vienna. I grant, sir, that our ministei's appear to have been forward and diligent enough in negotiating, and writing letters and memorials to the court of Spain ; but, from all my inquiries, it appears that they never rightly understood (perhaps they would not understand) the point respecting which they were negotiating. They suffered them- selves to be amused with fair promises for ten long years ; and our merchants plundered, our trade interrupted, now call aloud for inquiry. If it should appear that ministers allowed them- selves to be amused with answers which no man of honor, no man of common sense, in such cir- cumstances, would take, surely, sir, they must have had some secret motive for being thus grossly imposed on. This secret motive we may perhaps discover by an inquiry ; and as it must be a wicked one, if it can be discovered, the parties ought to be severely punished. But, in excuse for their conduct, it is said that our ministers had a laudable repugnance to in- volving their country in a war. Sir, this repug- nance could not proceed from any regard to their country. It was involved in a war. Spain was carrying on a war against our trade, and that in the most insulting manner, during the whole time of their negotiations. It was this very repugnance, at least it was the knowledge of it which Spain possessed, that at length made ^^ By the second Treaty of Vienna, concluded on the 16th of March, 17.31, England guaranteed the Pragmatic Sanction on the condition of the sup- pression of the Ostend Company, and that the arch- duchess who succeeded to the Austrian dominions should not be married to a prince of the house of Bourbon, or to a prince so powerful as to endanger the balance of Europe. — Coxe's House of Austria, chap. Ixxxviii. 11 By the Treaty of Seville, concluded between Great Britain, France, and Spain, on the 9th of Sep- tember, 1729, and shortly after acceded to by Hol- land, all former treaties were confirmed, and the several contracting parties agreed to assist each other in case of attack. The King of Spain revoked the privileges of trade which he had granted to the subjects of Austria by the Treaty of Vienna, and commissioners were to be appointed for the final adjustment of all commercial difficulties between Spain and Great Britain. In order to secure the succession of Parma and Tuscany to the Infant Don Carlos, it was agreed that 6000 Spanish troops should be allowed to garrison Leghorn, Porto Fer- rajo, Parma, and Placentia. This treaty passed over in total silence the claim of Spain to Gibraltar. 88 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST [1742. it absolutely necessary for us to commence the war. If ministers had at first insisted properly and peremptorily upon an explicit answer, Spain would have expressly abandoned her new and insolent claims and pretensions. But by the long experience we allowed her, she found the fruits of those pretensions so plentiful and so gratifying, that she thought them worth the haz- ard of a war. Sir, the damage we had sustained became so considerable, that it really was worth that hazard. Besides, the court of Spain was convinced, while we were under such an admin- istration, that either nothing could provoke us to commence the war, or, that if we did, it would be conducted in a weak and miserable manner. Have we not, sir, since found that their opinion was correct ? Nothing, sir, ever moi'e demand- ed a parliamentary inquiry than our conduct in the war. The only branch into which we have inquired we have already censured and con- demned. Is not this a good reason for inquiring into every other branch ? Disappointment and ill success have always, till now, occasioned a parliamentary inquiry. Inactivity, of itself, is a sufficient cause for inquiry. We have now all these reasons combined. Our admirals abroad desire nothing more ; because they are conscious that our inactivity and ill success will appear to proceed, not from their own misconduct, but from the misconduct of those by whom they were employed. I can not conclude, sir, without taking notice of the two other foreign measures mentioned by the honorable gentleman. Our conduct in the year 1734, with regard to the war between the Emperor and France, may be easily accounted for, though not easily excused. Ever since the last accession of our late minister to power, we seem to have had an enmity to the house of Aus- tria. Our guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanction was an effect of that enmity, because we enter- ed into it when, as hath since appeared, we had no intention to pei-form our engagement ; and by that false guarantee we induced the Emperor to admit the introduction of the Spanish troops into Italy, which he would not otherwise have done.^"^ The preparations we made in that year, the ar- mies we raised, and the fleet we fitted out, were not to guard against the event of the war abroad, but against the event of the ensuing elections at home. The new commissions, the promotions, and the money laid out in these preparations, were of admirable use at the time of a general election, and in some measure atoned for the loss of the excise scheme. But France and her allies were well convinced, that we would in no '2 See Walpole's explanation of his reason for re- maining neutral, in his speech, page 39. Although England remained neutral during the progress of these hostilities, she augmented her naval and mil- itary forces, " in order," said Mr. Pelham, in the course of the debate, " to be ready to put a stop to the arms of the victorious side, in case their ambi- tion should lead them to push their conquests further than was consonant with the balance of power in Europe." — Pari. Hist., vol. xii., p. 479. event declare against them, otherwise they would not then have dared to attack the Emperor; for Muscovy, Poland, Germany, and Britain would have been by much an over-match for them. It was not our preparations that set bounds to the ambition of France, but her getting all she want- ed at that time for herself, and all she desired for her allies. Her own prudence suggested that it was not then a proper time to push her views further; because she did not know but that the spirit of this nation might overcome (as it since has with regard to Spain) the spirit of our ad- ministration ; and should this have happened, the house of Austria was then in such a condition, that our assistance, even though late, would have been of effectual service. I am surprised, sir, to hear the honorable gen- tleman now say, that we gave up nothing, or that we acquired any thing, by the infamous Con- vention with Spain. Did we not give up the freedom of our trade and navigation, by submit- ting it to be regulated by plenipotentiaries ? Can freedom be regulated without being con- fined, and consequently in some part destroyed ? Did we not give up Georgia, or some part of it, by submitting to have new limits settled by plen- ipotentiaries ? Did we not give up all the rep- aration of the damage we had suffered, amount- ing to five or six hundred thousand pounds, for the paltry sum of twenty-seven thousand pounds? This was all that Spain promised to pay, after deducting the sixty-eight thousand pounds which we, by the declaration annexed to that treaty, allowed her to insist on having from our South Sea Company, under the penalty of stripping them of the Assiento Contract, and all the privi- leges to which they were thereby entitled. Even this sum of twenty-seven thousand pounds, or more, they had before acknowledged to be due on account of ships they allowed to have been unjustly taken, and for the restitution of which they had actually sent orders : so that by this infamous treaty we acquired nothing, while we gave up every thing. Therefore, in my opinion, the honor of this nation can never be retrieved, unless the advisers and authors of it be censured and punished. This, sir, can not regularly be done without a parliamentary inquiry. By these, and similar weak, pusillanimous, and wicked measures, we are become the ridi- cule of every court in Europe, and have lost the confidence of all our ancient allies. By these measures we have encouraged France to extend her ambitious views, and now at last to attempt carrying them into execution. By bad econo- my, by extravagance in our domestic measures, we have involved ourselves in such distress at home, that we are almost wholly incapable of en- tering into a war ; while by weakness or wick- edness in our foreign measures, we have brought the affairs of Europe into such distress that it is almost impossible for us to avoid it. Sir, we have been brought upon a dangerous precipice. Here we now find ourselves ; and shall we trust to be led safely off by the same guide who has led us on ? Sir, it is impossible for him to lead 1742.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 89 us off. Sir, it is impossible for us to get off, without first recovering that confidence with our ancient allies which formerly we possessed. This we can not do, so long as they suppose that our councils are influenced by our late minister ; and this they will suppose so long as he has ac- cess to the King's closet — so long as his conduct remains uninquired into and uncensured. It is not, therefore, in revenge for our past disasters, but from a desire to prevent them in future, that I am now so zealous for this inquiry. The pun- ishment of the minister, be it ever so severe, will be but a small atonement for the past. But his impunity will be the source of many future mis- , erics to Europe, as well as to his country. Let us be as merciful as we will, as merciful as any man can reasonably desire, when we come to pronounce sentence ; but sentence we must pro- nounce. For this purpose, unless we are re- solved to sacrifice our own liberties, and the lib- erties of Europe, to the preservation of one guilty man, we must make the inquiry. The motion was rejected by a majority of two. A second motion was made a fortnight afier, for an inquiry into the last ten years of Walpole's administration, which gave rise to another speech of Mr. Pitt. This will next be given. SECOND SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION TO INQUIRE INTO THE CONDUCT OF SIR ROBERT WAL- POLE, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, MARCH 23, 1742. INTRODUCTION. Lord Limerick's first motion for an inquiry into the conduct of Walpole was lost chiefly through the absence of Mr. Pulteney from the House during the illness of a favorite daughter. On the return of Pulte- ney at the end of a fortnight, the motion was renewed, with a variation in one respect, viz., that the in- quiry be extended only to the last fea years of Walpole's continuance in office. On that occasion, Mr. Pitt made the following speech in answer to Mr. Cook Harefield, who had re- cently taken his seat in the House. In it he shows his remarkable power of reply; and argues with great force the propriety of inquiiy, as leading to a decision whether an impeachment should be com- menced. SPEECH, &c. As the honorable gentleman who spoke last against the motion has not been long in the House, it is but charitable to believe him sin- cere in professing that he is ready to agree to a parliamentary inquiry when he thinks the occa- sion requires it. But if he knew how often such professions are made by those who upon all oc- casions oppose inquiry, he would now avoid them, because they are generally believed to be insincere. , He may, it is true, have nothing to dread, on his own account, from inquiry. But when a gentleman has contracted, or any of his near relations have contracted, a friendship with one who may be brought into danger, it is very natural to suppose that such a gentleman's op- position to an inquiry does not entirely proceed from public motives ; and if that gentleman fol- lows the advice of some of his friends, I very much question whether he will ever think the occasion requires an inquiry into the conduct of our public affairs. As a parliamentary inquiry must always be founded upon suspicions, as well as upon facts or manifest crimes, reasons may always be found for alleging those suspicions to be without foun- dation ; and upon the principle that a parlia- mentary inquiry must necessarily lay open the secrets of government, no time can ever be proper or convenient for such inquiry, because it is impossible to suppose a time when the gov- ernment has no secrets to disclose. This, sir, would be a most convenient doctrine for ministers, because it would put an end to all parliamentary inquiries into the conduct of our public affairs ; and, therefore, when I hear it urged, and so much insisted on, by a certain set of gentlemen in this House, I must suppose their hopes to be very extensive. I must suppose them to expect that they and their posterity will forever continue in office. Sir, this doctrine has been so often contradicted by experience, that I am surprised to hear it advanced by gen- tlemen now. This very session has afforded us a convincing proof that very little foundation ex- ists for asserting, that a parliamentary inquiry must necessarily reveal the secrets of the gov- ernment. Surely, in a war with Spain, which must be carried on principally by sea, if the government have secrets, the Lords of the Ad- miralty must be intrusted with the most import- ant of them. Yet, sir, in this very session, we have, without any secret committees, made in- quiry into the conduct of the Loi'ds Commis- sioners of the Admiralty. We have not only inquired into their conduct, but we have cen- sured it in such a manner as to put an end to the trust which was before reposed in them. Has that inquiry discovered any of the secrets of our government ? On the contrary, the com- mittee found that there was no occasion to probe into such secrets. They found cause enough for censure without it ; and none of the Commission- 90 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST [1742. ers pretended to justify their conduct by the as- sertion that the papers contained secrets which ouorht not to be disclosed. This, sir, is so recent, so strong a proof that there is no necessary connection between a par- liamentary inquiry and a discovery of secrets which it behooves the nation to conceal, that I trust gentlemen will no longer insist upon this danger as an argument against the inquiry. Sir, the First Commissioner of the Treasury has nothing to do with the application of secret serv- ice money. He is only to take care that it be regularly issued from his office, and that no more be issued than the conjuncture of affairs appears to demand. As to the particular application, it pi'operly belongs to the Secretary of State, or '.o such other persons as his Majest}' employs. Hence we can not suppose the proposed inquiry will discover any secrets relative to the applica- tion of that money, unless the noble lord has acted as Secretary of State, as well as First Commissioner of the Treasury ; or unless a great part of the money drawn out for secret service has been delivered to himself or persons em- ployed by him, and applied toward gaining a corrupt influence in Parliament or at elections. Of both these practices he is most grievously suspected, and both are secrets which it very much behooves him to conceal. But, sir, it equall}^ behooves the nation to discover them. His country and he are, in this cause, equall}', although oppositely concerned. The safety or ruin of one or the other depends upon the fate of the question ; and the violent opposition which this question has experienced adds great strength to the suspicion. I admit, sir, that the noble lord [Walpole], whose conduct is now proposed to be inquired into, was one of his Majesty's most honorable Privy Council, and consequently that he must have had a share at least in advising all the measures which have been pursued both abroad and at home. But I can not from this admit, that an inquir}' into his conduct must necessa- rily occasion a discovery of any secrets of vital importance to the nation, because we are not to inquire into the measures themselves. But, sir, suspicions have gone abroad relative to his conduct as a Privy Counselor, which, if true, are of the utmost consequence to be in- quired into. It has been strongly asserted that he was not only a Privy Counselor, but that he usurped the whole and sole direction of his Maj- esty's Privy Council. It has been asserted that he gave the Spanish court the first hint of the unjust claim they afterward advanced against our South Sea Company, w^hich was one chief cause of the war between the two nations. And it has been asserted that this very minister has advised the French in what manner to proceed in order to bring our Court into their measures ; particularly, that he advised them as to the nu- merous army they have this last summer sent into Westphalia. What truth there is in these assertions, I pretend not to decide. The facts are of such a nature, and they must have been perpetrated with so much caution and secrecy, that it will be difficult to bring them to light even by a parliamentary inquiry ; but the very suspicion is ground enough for establishing such inquiry, and for carrying it on with the utmost strictness and vigor. Whatever my opinion of past measures may be, I shall never be so vain, or bigoted to that opinion, as to determine, without any inquiry, against the majority of my countrymen. If I found the public measures generally condemned, let my private opinions of them be ever so fa- vorable, I should be for inquiry in order to con- vince the people of their error, or at least to fur- nish myself with the most authentic arguments in favor of the opinion I had embraced. The desire of bringing others into the same senti- ments with ourselves is so natural, that I shall always suspect the candor of those who, in poli- tics or religion, are opposed to free inquiry. Be- sides, sir, when the complaints of the people are general against an administration, or against any particular minister, an inquiry is a duty which we owe both to our sovereign and the people. We meet here to communicate to our sovereign the sentiments of his people. We meet here to redress the grievances of the peo- ple. By performing our duty in both respects, we shall always be enabled to establish the throne of our sovereign in the hearts of his peo- ple, and to hinder the people from being led into insurrection and rebellion by misrepresenta- tions or false surmises. When the people com- plain, they must either be right or in error. If they be right, we are in duty bound to inquire into the conduct of the ministers, and to punish those who appear to have been most guilty. If they be in error, we ought still to inquire into the conduct of our ministers, in order to convince the people that they have been misled. We ought not, therefore, in any question relating to inquiry, to be governed by our own sentiments. We must be governed by the sentiments of our constituents, if we are resolved to perform our duty, both as true representatives of the people, and as faithful subjects of our King. I perfectly agree with the honorable gentle- man, that if we are convinced that the public measures are wrong, or that if we suspect them to be so, we ought to make inquiry, although there is not much complaint among the people. But I wholly differ from him in thinking that notwithstanding the administration and the min- ister arc the subjects of complaint among the people, we ought not to make inquiry into his conduct unless we are ourselves convinced that his measures have been wrong. Sir, we can no more determine this question without in- quiry, than a judge without a trial can declare any man innocent of a crime laid to his charge. Common fame is a sufficient ground for an in- quisition at common law ; and for the same rea- son, the general voice of the people of England ought always to be regarded as a sufficient ground for a parliamentary inquiry. But, say gentlemen, of what is this minister 1742.] SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 91 accused ? What crime is laid to his charge ? For, unless some misfortune is said to have hap- pened, or some crime to have been committed, no inquiry ought to be set on foot. Sir, the ill posture of our affairs both abroad and at home ; the melancholy situation we are in ; the distress- es to which we are now reduced, are sufficient causes for an inquiry, even supposing the minis- ter accused of no particular crime or misconduct. The nation lies bleeding, perhaps expiring. The balance of power has been fatally disturbed. Shall we acknowledge this to be the case, and shall we not inquire whether it has happened by mischance, or by the misconduct, perhaps by the malice prepense, of the minister? Before the Treaty of Utrecht, it was the general opinion that in a few years of peace we should be able to pay off most of our debts. We have now been very nearly thirty years in profound peace, at least we have never been engaged in any war but what we unnecessarily brought upon ourselves, and yet our debts are almost as great as they were when that treaty was concluded.^ Is not this a misfortune, and shall we not make inquiry into its cause ? I am surprised to hear it said that no inquiry ought to be set on foot unless it is known that some public crime has been committed. Sir, the suspicion that a crime has been committed has always been deemed a .sufficient reason for instituting an inquiry. And is there not now a suspicion that the public money has been applied toward gaining a corrupt influence at elections ? Is it not become a common expression, " The flood-gates of the Treasury are opened against a general election?" I desire no more than that every gentleman who is conscious that such practices have been resorted to, either for or against him, should give his vote in favor of the motion. Will any gentleman say that this is no crime, when even private coiTuption has such high penalties inflicted by express statute against it? Sir, a minister who commits this crime — who thus abuses the public money, adds breach of trust to the crime of corruption ; and as the crime, when committed by him, is of much more dangerous consequence than when committed by a private man, it becomes more properly the ob- ject of a parliamentary inquiry, and merits the severest punishment. The honorable gentleman may with much more reason tell us that Porte- ous was never murdered by the mob at Edin- burgh, because, notwith-standing the high reward as well as pardon proffered, his murderers were never discovered,^ than tell us that we can not ^ Debt on the accession of George the First, in 1714 £54,145,303 Debt at the commencement of the Spanish war, in 1739 £46,954,623 Decrease during the peace £7,190,740 ^ The case of Porteous, here referred to, was the one on which Sir Walter Scott founded his "Heart of Midlothian." Porteous bad been condemned to death for firing on the people of Edinburgh, but was reprieved at the moment when the execution was to have taken place. Exasperated at this, the mob, suppose our minister, either personally or by oth- ers, has ever corrupted an election, because no information has been brought against him. Sir, nothing but a pardon, upon the conviction of the offender, has ever yet been offered in this case ; and how could any informer expect a pardon, and much less a reward, when he knew that the very man against whom he was to inform had not only the distribution of all public rewards, but the packing of a jury or a Parliament against him ? While such a minister preserves the fa- vor of the Crown, and thereby the exercise of its power, this information can never be expected. This shows, sir, the impotence of the act, mentioned by the honorable gentleman, respect- ing that sort of corruption which is called brib- ery. With regard to the other sort of corrup- tion, which consists in giving or taking away those posts, pensions, or preferments which de- pend upon the arbitrary will of the Crown, the act is still more inefficient. Although it would be considered most indecent in a minister to tell any man that he gave or withheld a post, pen- sion, or pi-eferment, on account of his voting for or against any ministerial measure in Parliament, or any ministerial candidate at an election ; yet, if he makes it his constant rule never to give a post, pension, or preferment, but to those who vote for his measures and his candidates ; if he makes a few examples of dismissing those who vote otherwise, it will have the same effect as when he openly declares it.'' Will any gentle- man say that this has not been the practice of the minister ? Has he not declared, in the face of this House, that he will continue the prac- tice ? And will not this have the same effect as if he went separately to every particular man, and told him in express terms, " Sir, if you vote for such a measure or such a candidate, you shall have the first preferment in the gift of the Crown ; if you vote otherwise, you must not ex- pect to keep what you have ?" Gentlemen may deny that the sun .shines at noon-day : but if they have eyes, and do not willfully shut them, or turn their backs, no man will believe them to be ingenuous in what they say. I think, therefore, that the honorable gentleman was in the right who endeavored to justify the practice. It was more candid than to deny it. But as his argu- ments have already been fully answered, I shall not farther discuss them. Gentlemen exclaim, " What ! will you take from the Crown the power of preferring or cash- iering the officers of the army?" No, sir, this is neither the design, nor will it be the eftect of our agreeing to the motion. The King at pres- a few nights after, broke open his prison, and hang- ed him on the spot where he bad fired. A reward of £200 was off"ered, but the perpetrators could not be discovered. ^ It will be recollected that, in consequence of bis parliamentary opposition to Sir Robert Walpole, Mr. Pitt had been himself dismissed from the army- The Duke of Bolton and Lord Cobham had also, for a similar reason, been deprived of the command of their resriments. 92 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. [1742. ent possesses the absolute power to prefer or cashier the officers of our army. It is a prerog- ative which he may employ for the benefit or safety of the public ; but, like other prerogatives, it may be abused, and when it is so abused, the minister is responsible to Parliament. When an officer is preferred or cashiered for voting in fa- vor of or against any court measure or candidate, it is an abuse of this prerogative, for which the minister is answerable. We may judge from circumstances or outward appearances — from these we may condemn, and I hope we have still a power to punish a minister who dares to advise the King to prefer or cashier from such motives ! Sir, whether this prerogative ought to remain as it is, without any limitation, is a question foreign to this debate. But I must ob- serve, that the argument employed for it might, with equal justice, be employed for giving our King an absolute power over every man's prop- erty ; because a large property will always give the possessor a command over a great body of men, whom he may arm and discipline if he pleases. I know of no law to I'estrain him — I hope none will ever exist — I wish our gentlemen of estates would make more use of this power than they do, because it would tend to keep our domestic as well as our foreign enemies in awe. For my part, I think that a gentleman who has earned his commission by his services (in his military capacity, I mean), or bought it with his money, has as much a property in it as any man has in his estate, and ought to have it as well secured by the laws of his country. While it remains at the absolute will of the Crown, he must, unless ho has some other estate to depend on, be a slave to the minister ; and if the officers of our army long continue in that state of slavery in which they are at present, I am afraid it will make slaves of us all. The only method to prevent this fatal conse- quence, as the law now stands, is to make the best and most constant use of the power we pos- sess as members of this House, to prevent any minister from daring to advise the King to make a bad use of his prerogative. As there is such a strong suspicion that this minister has done so, we ought certainly to inquire into it, not only for the sake of punishing him if guilty, but as a ter- ror to all future ministers. This, sir, may therefore be justly reckoned among the many other sulFicient causes for the inquiry proposed. The suspicion that the civil list is greatly in debt is another ; for if it is, it must either have been misapplied, or profusely thrown away, which abuse it is our duty both to prevent and to punish. It is inconsistent with the honor of this nation that the King should stand indebted to his servants or tradesmen, who may be ruined by delay of payment. The Parliament has provided sufficiently to prevent this dishonor from being brought upon the na- tion, and, if the provision we have made should be lavished or misapplied, we must •'^upply the deficiency. We ought to do it, whether the King- makes any application for that purpose or not ; and the reason is plain, because we ought first to inquire into the management of that revenue, and punish those who have occasioned the defi- ciency. They will certainly choose to leave the creditors of the Crown and the honor of the na- tion in a state of suffering, rather than advise the King to make an application which may bring censure upon their conduct, and condign punishment upon themselves. Besides this, sir, another and a stronger reason exists for promot- ing an inquiry. There is a strong suspicion that the public money has been applied toward corrupting voters at elections, and members when elected ; and if the civil list be in debt, it aflx)rds reason to presume that some part of this revenue has, under the pretense of secret service money, been applied to this infamous purpose. I shall conclude, sir, by making a few remarks upon the last argument advanced against the proposed inquiry. It has been said that the min- ister delivered in his accounts annually ; that these accounts were annually passed and ap- proved by Parliament ; and that therefore it would be unjust to call him now to a general account, because the vouchers may be lost, or many expensive transactions have escaped his memory. It is true, sir, estimates and accounts were annually delivered in. The forms of pro- ceeding made that necessary. But were any of these estimates and accounts properly inquired into ? Were not all questions of that descrip- tion rejected by the minister's friends in Parlia- ment? Did not Parliament always take them upon trust, and pass them without examination ? Can such a superficial passing, to call it no worse, be deemed a reason for not calling him to a new and general account? If the steward to an infant's estate should annually, for twenty years together, deliver in his accounts to the guardians ; and the guardians, through negli- gence, or for a share of the plunder, should an- nually pass his accounts without examination, or at least without objection ; would that be a rea- son for saying that it would be unjust in the in- fant, when he came of age, to call his steward to account ? Especially if that steward had built and furnished sumptuous palaces, living, during the whole time, at a much greater ex- pense than his visible income warranted, and yet amassing great riches? The public, sir, is al- ways in a state of infancy ; therefore no pre- scription can be pleaded against it — not even a general release, if there is the least cause for supposing that it was surreptitiously obtained. Public vouchers ought always to remain on rec- ord ; nor ought any public expense to be incur- red without a voucher — therefore the case of the public is still stronger than that of an infant. Thus, sir, the honorable gentleman who made use of this objection, must see how little it avails in the case before us ; and therefore I trust we shall have his concurrence in the question. The motion prevailed by a majority of seven. A committee of twenty-one was appointed, com- posed of Walpole's political and personal oppo- 1742.] LORD CHATHAM ON THE HANOVERIAN TROOPS. 93 nents. They entered on the inquiry with great zeal and expectation. But no documentary proofs of importance could be found. Witnes.ses were called up for examination as to their trans- actions with the treasury ; but they refu.sed to testify, unless previously indemnified against the consequences of the evidence they might be re- quired to give. The House passed a bill of in- demnity, but the Lords rejected it, as dangerous in its tendency, and calculated to invite accusa- tion from peculators and others, who might wish to cover their crimes by making the minister a partaker in their guilt. " The result of all their inquiries," says Cooke, " was charges so few and so ridiculous, when compared with those put for- ward at the commencement of the investigation, that the promoters of the prosecution were them- selves ashamed of their work. Success was found impracticable, and Lord Orford enjoyed hie honors unmolested." — Hist, of Party, ii., 316. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON TAKING THE HANOVERIAN TROOPS INTO THE PAY OF GREAT BRITAIN, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, DEC. 10, 1742. INTRODUCTION. George II., when freed from the trammels of Walpole's pacific policy, had a silly ambition of appear- ing on the Continent, Uke William III., at the head of a confederate army against France, while he sought, at the same time, to defend and aggrandize his Electorate of Hanover at the expense of Great Britain. In this he was encouraged by Lord Carteret, who succeeded Walpole as prime minister. The King therefore took sixteen thousand Hanoverian troops into British pay, and sent them with a large English force into Flanders. His object was to create a diversion in favor of Maria Theresa, queen of Hungaiy, to whom the English were now affording aid, in accordance with their guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanc- tion.^ Two subsidies, one of X300,000 and another of X500,000, had already been transmitted for her re- lief; and so popular was her cause in England, that almost any sum would have been freely given. But there was a general and strong opposition to the King's plan of shifting the burdens of Hanover on to the British treasury. Mr. Pitt, who concurred in these views, availed himself of this opportunity to come out as the opponent of Carteret. He had been neglected and set aside in the arrangements which were made after the fall of Walpole ; and he was not of a spirit tamely to bear the arrogance of the new min- ister. Accordingly, when a motion was made to provide for the payment of the Hanoverian troops, he delivered the following speech, in reply to Henry Fox, who had said that he should "continue to vote for these measures till better could be proposed." SPEECH, &c. Sir, if the honorable gentleman determines to abandon his present sentiments as soon as any better measures are proposed, the ministry will quickly be deprived of one of their ablest defend- ers ; for I consider the measures hitherto pur- sued so weak and so pernicious, that scarcely any alteration can be proposed that will not be for the advantage of the nation. The honorable gentleman has already been in- formed that no necessity existed for hiring auxil- iary troops. It does not appear that either justice or policy required us to engage in the quarrels of the Continent ; that there was any need of foi-ming an army in the Low Countries ; or that, in order to form an army, auxiliaries were necessary. But, not to dwell upon disputable points, I think it may justly be concluded that the meas- ures of our ministry have been ill concerted, be- cause it is undoubtedly wrong to squander the public money without effect, and to pay armies, only to be a show to our friends and a scorn to our enemies. The troops of Hanover, whom we are now ex- pected to pay, marched into the Low Countries, sir, where they still remain. They marched to See note to Walpole's speech, p. 40. the place most distant from the enemy, least in danger of an attack, and most strongly fortified, had an attack been designed. They have, there- fore, no other claim to be paid, than that they left their own country for a place of greater se- curity. It is always reasonable to judge of the future by the past ; and therefore it is probable that next year the services of these troops will not be of equal importance with those for which they are now to be paid. I shall not, therefore, be surprised, if, after such another glorious cam- paign, the opponents of the ministry be chal- lenged to propose better measures, and be told that the money of this nation can not be more properly employed than in hiring Hanoverians to eat and sleep. But to prove yet more particularly that better measures may be taken — that more useful troops may be retained — and that, therefore, the hon- orable gentleman may be expected to quit those to whom he now adheres, I shall show that, in hiring the forces of Hanovei', we have obstruct- ed our own designs ; that, instead of assisting the Queen of Hungary, we have withdrawn from her a part of the allies, and have burdened the nation wuth troops from which no service can reasonably be expected. 94 LORD CHATHAM ON THE HANOVERIAN TROOPS. [1742. The advocates of the ministry have, on this occasion, affected to speak of the balance of pow- er, the Pragmatic Sanction, and the preservation of the Queen of Hungary, not only as if they were to be the chief care of Great Britain, which (although easily controvertible) might, in com- pliance with long prejudices, be possibly admit- ted ; but as if they were to be the care of Great Britain alone. These advocates, sir, have spok- en as if the power of France were formidable to no other people than ourselves ; as if no other part of the world would be injui-ed by becoming a prey to a universal monarchy, and subject to the arbitrary government of a French deputy ; by being drained of its inhabitants only to extend the conquests of its masters, and to make other nations equally wretched ; and by being oppressed with exorbitant taxes, levied by military execu- tions, and employed only in supporting the state of its oppressors. They dwell upon the import- ance of public fiiith and the necessity of an exact observation of treaties, as if the Pragmatic Sanc- tion had been signed by no other potentate than the King of Great Britain ; as if the public faith were to be obligatory upon ourselves alone. That we should inviolably observe our treat- ies — observe them although every other nation should disregard them ; that we should show an example of fidelity to mankind, and stand firm in the practice of virtue, though we should stand alone, I readily allow. I am, therefore, far from advising that we should recede from our stipu- lations, whatever we may suffer in their fulfill- ment ; or that we should neglect the support of the Pragmatic Sanction, however we may be at present embarrassed, or however disadvanta- geous may be its assertion. But surely, sir, for the same reason that we observe our stipulations, we ought to excite other powers also to observe their own ; at the least, sir, we ought not to assist in preventing them from doing so. But how is our present conduct agreeable to these principles ? The Pragmatic Sanction was guaranteed, not only by the King of Great Britain, but by the Elector of Hanover also, who (if treaties constitute obligation) is thereby equally obliged to defend the house of Austria against the attacks of any foreign pow- er, and to send his proportion of troops for the Queen of Hungary's support. Whether these troops have been sent, those whose province obliges them to possess some knowledge of foreign affairs, are better able to inform the House than myself. But, since we have not heard them mentioned in this debate, and since we know by experience that none of the merits of that Electorate are passed over in silence, it may, I think, be concluded that the distresses of the Queen of Hungary have yet re- ceived no alleviation from her alliance with Hanover ; that her complaints have excited no compassion at that court, and that the justice of her cause has obtained no attention. To what can be attributed this negligence of treaties, this disregard of justice, this defect of compassion, but to the pernicious counsels of those who have advised his Majesty to hire and to send elsewhere those troops which should have been employed for the Queen of Hungary's assistance. It is not to be imagined, sir, that his ^Majesty has more or less regard to justice as King of Great Britain, than as Elector of Hanover ; or that he would not have sent his proportion of troops to the Austrian army, had not the temptation of greater profit been laid in- dustriously before him. But this is not all that may be urged against such conduct. For, can we imagine that the power, that the designs of France, are less formidable to Hanover than Great Britain ? Is it less necessary for the se- curity of Hanover than of ourselves, that the house of Austria should be re-established it its former splendor and influence, and enabled to support the liberties of Europe against the enor- mous attempts at universal monarchy by France ? If, therefore, our assistance to the Queen of Hungary be an act of honesty, and granted in consequence of treaties, why may it not be equally required of Hanover? If it be an act of generosity, why should this country alone be obliged to sacrifice her intei'ests for those of oth- ers ? or why should the Elector of Hanover exert his liberality at the expense of Great Britain ? It is now too apparent, sir, that this great, this powerful, this mighty nation, is considered only as a province to a despicable Electorate ; and that in consequence of a scheme formed long ago, and invariably pursued, these troops are hired only to drain this unhappy country of its money. That they have hitherto been of no use to Great Britain or to Austria, is evident beyond a doubt; and therefore it is plain that they are retained only for the purposes of Hano- ver. How much reason the transactions of almost every year have given for suspecting this ab- sui'd, ungrateful, and perfidious partiality, it is not necessax-y to declare. I doubt not that most of those who sit in this House can recollect a great number of instances in point, from the purchase of part of the Swedish dominions, to the contract which we are now called upon to ratify. Few, I think, can have forgotten the memorable stipulation for the Hessian troops : for the forces of the Duke of Wolfenbuttle, which we were scarcely to march beyond the verge of their own country : or the ever memorable treaty, the tendency of which is discovered in the name. A treaty by which we disunited our- selves from Austria; destroyed that building which we now endeavor, perhaps in vain, to raise again ; and weakened the only power to which it was our interest to give strength. To dwell on all the instances of partiality which have been shown, and the yearly visits which have been paid to that delightful country ; to reckon up all the sums that have been spent to- aggrandi/e and enrich it, would be an irksome and invidious task — invidious to those who are afraid to be told the truth, and irksome to those who arc unwilling to hear of the dishonor and injuries of their country. I shall not dwell lUr- i 1743] LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS. 95 ther on this unpleasing subject than to express my hope, that we shall no longer suffer ourselves to be deceived and oppi-essed : that we shall at length perform our duty as representatives of the people : and, by refusing to ratify this con- tract, show, that however the interests of Han- Parliament pays no regard but to the interests of Great Britain. The motion was carried by a considerable majority ; but Mr. Pitt's popularity was greatly increased throughout the country by his resist- er have been pi-eferred by the ministers, the , ance of this obnoxious measure. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS OF THANKS AFTER THE BATTLE OF DET- TINGEN, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, DECEMBER 1, 1743. INTRODUCTION. The battle of Dettingen was the last in which any English monarch has appeared personally in the field. It was fought near a village of this name in Germany, on the banks of the Mayn, between Mayence and Frankfort, on the 19th of June, 1743. The allied army, consisting of about thirty-seven thousand En- glish and Hanoverian troops, was commanded, at the time of this engagement, by George II. Previous to his taking the command, it had been brought by mismanagement into a perilous condition, being hem- med in between the River Maj'n on the one side and a range of precipitous hills on the other, and there reduced to great extremities for want of provisions. The French, who occupied the opposite side of the Mayn in superior force, seized the opportunity, and threw a force of twenty-three thousand men across the river to cut off the advance of the allies through the defile of Dettingen, and shortly after sent twelve thousand more into their rear, to preclude the possibility of I'etreat. The position of the French in front was impregnable, and, if they had only retained it, the capture of the entire allied anriy would have been inevitable. But the eagerness of Grammont, who commanded the French in that quarter, drew him off from his vantage ground, and induced him to give battle to the allies on more equal terms. When the engagement commenced, George II., dismounting from his horse, put himself at the head of his infantry, and led his troops on foot to the charge. "The conduct of the King in this conflict," says Lord Mahon, "deserves the highest praise; and it was undoubtedly through him and through his son [the Duke of Cumberland], far more than through any of his generals, that the day was won." The British and Hano- verian infantry vied with each other under such guidance, and swept the French forces before them with an impetuosity which soon decided the battle, and produced a complete rout of the French anny. The exhausted condition of the allies, however, and especially their want of provisions, rendered it impossible for them to pursue the French, who left the field with the loss of six thousand men. The King, on his return to England, opened the session of Parliament in person; and in reply to his speech, an Address of Thanks was moved, "acknowledging the goodness of Divine Providence to this na- tion in protecting your Majesty's sacred person amid imminent dangers, in defense of the common cause and liberties of Europe." In opposition to this address, Mr. Pitt made the following speech. In the for- mer part of it, either from erroneous information or prejudice, he seems unwilling to do justice to the King's intrepidity on that occasion. But the main part of the speech is occupied with an examination, I. Of Sir Robei-t Walpole's policy (which was that of the King) in respect to the dueen of Hungary and the balance of power. II. Of the conduct of the existing ministry (that of Lord Carteret) in relation to these subjects. III. Of the manner in which the war in Germany had been carried on ; and, IV. Of the consequences to be anticipated from the character and conduct of the ministry. The speech will be interesting to those who have sufficient acquaintance with the history of the times to enter fully into the questions discussed. It is characterized by comprehensive views and profound re- flection on the leading question of that day, the balance of power, and by a high sense of national honor. It has a continuous line of argument running throughout it; and shows the error of those who imagine that " Lord Chatham never reasoned.' SPEECH, &o. From the proposition before the House, sir, 1 ister [Walpole] betrayed the interests of his we may perceive, that whatever alteration has 1 country by his pusillanimity ; our present min- been, or may be produced with respect to for- j ister [Carteret] would sacrifice them by his eign measures, by the late change in administra- Quixotism. Our former minister was for nego- tion, we can expect none with regard to our do- tiating with all the world ; our present minister mestic affairs. In foreign measures, indeed, a is for fighting against all the world. Our for- most extraordinary change has taken place, mer minister was for agreeing to every treaty, From one extreme, our admiristration have run ] though never so dishonorable; our present min- to the very verge of another. Our fo-mer min- ! ister will give ear to none, though never so rea LORD CHATHAM ON A [1743. sonable. Thus, while both appear to be extrav- agant, this diflerence results from their opposite conduct : that the wild system of the one must subject the nation to a much heavier expendi- ture than was ever incurred by the pusillanimity of the other. The honorable gentleman who spoke last ['^h\ Yorke] was correct in saying, that in the begin- ning of the session we could know nothing, in a parliamentary way, of the measures that had been pursued. I believe, sir, we shall know as little, in that way, at the end of the session ; for our new minister, in this, as in every other step of his domestic conduct, will follow the example of his predecessor, and put a negative upon ev- ery motion which may tend toward our acquir- ing any parliamentary knowledge of our late proceedings. But if we possess no knowledge of these proceedings, it is, surely, as strong an argument for our not approving, as it can be for our not condemning them. Sir, were nothing relating to our late measures proposed to be in- serted in our address upon this occasion, those measures would not have been noticed by me. But when an approbation is proposed, I am com- pelled to employ the knowledge I possess, wheth- er parliamentary or otherwise, in order that I may join or not in the vote of approbation. What though my knowledge of our late meas- ures were derived from foreign and domestic newspapers alone, even of that knowledge I must avail myself, when obliged to express my opinion ; and when from that knowledge I ap- prehend them to be wrong, it is my duty, surely, to withhold my approbation. I am bound to per- sist in thus withholding it, till the minister be pleased to furnish me with such parliamentary knowledge as may convince me that I have been misinformed. This would be my proper line of conduct when, from the knowledge I possess, instead of approving any late measures, I think it more reasonable to condemn them. But sup- posing, sir, from the knowledge within my reach, that I consider those measures to be sound, even then I ought not to approve, unless such knowl- edge can warrant approval. Now, as no sort of knowledge but a parliamentary knowledge can authorize a parliamentary approbation, for this reason alone I ought to refuse it. If, there- fore, that which is now proposed contain any sort of approbation, my refusing to agree to it contains no censure, but is a simple declaration that w^e possess not such knowledge of past measures as affords sufficient grounds for a par- liamentary approbation. A parliamentary ap- probation, sir, extends not only to all that our ministers have advised, but to the acknowledg- ment of the truth of several facts which inquiry may .show to be false ; of facts which, at least, have been asserted without authority and proof. Suppose, sir, it should appear that his Majesty was exposed to few or no dangers abroad, but those to which he is daily liable at home, such as the overturning of his coach, or the stumbling of his horse, would not the address proposed, in- stead of being a compliment, be an affront and an insult to the sovereign ? Suppose it should appear that our ministei's have shown no regard to the advice of Parliament ; that they have ex- erted their endeavors, not for the preservation of the house of Austria, but to involve that house in dangers which otherwise it might have avoid- ed, and w^hich it is scarcely possible for us now to avert. Suppose it should appear that a body of Dutch troops, although they marched to the Rhine, have never joined our army. Suppose it should appear that the treaty with Sardinia is not 3-et ratified by all the parties concerned, or that it is one with whose terms it is impossible they should comply. If these things should ap- pear on inquiry, would not the address proposed be most ridiculously absurd ? Now, what as- surance have we that all these facts will not turn out as I have imagined ? I. Upon the death of the late Emperor of Ger- many, it was the interest of this nation, I waipoie'a grant, that the Queen of Hungary should ^"'"^^• be established in her father's dominions, and that her husband, the Duke of Lorraine, should be chosen Emperor. This was our interest, be- cause it would have been the best security for the preservation of the balance of power ; but we had no other interest, and it was one which we had in common with all the powers of Eu- rope, excepting France. We were not, there- fore, to take upon us the sole support of this in- terest. And, therefore, when the King of Prus- sia attacked Silesia — when the King of Spain, the King of Poland, and the Duke of Bavaria laid claim to the late Emperor's succession, we might have seen that the establishment of the Queen of Hungary in all her father's dominions was impracticable, especially as the Dutch re- fused to interfere, excepting by good offices. What, then, ought we to have done ? Since we could not preserve the whole, is it not evident that, in order to bring over some of the claim- ants to our side, we ought to have advised her to yield up part ? Upon this we ought to have insisted, and the claimant whom first we should have considered was the King of Prussia, both because he was one of the most neutral, and one of the most powerful allies with whom we could treat. For this reason it was certainly incum- bent upon us to advise the Queen of Hungary to accept the terms offered by the King of Prussia when he first invaded Silesia.^ Nay, not only should we have advised, we should have insisted upon this as the condition upon which we would assist her against the claims of others. To this the court of Vienna must have assented ; and, in this case, whatever protestations the other claim- ants might have made, I am persuaded that the Queen of Hungary w'ould to this day have re- 1 This, it is now known, was the course urged by Walpole on the dueen of Hungary. He strongly advised her to give up Silesia rather than involve Europe in a general war. She replied that she "would sooner give up her under petticoat;" and, as this put an end to the argument, he could do noth- ing but give the aid which England had promised — See Coxe's Walpole iii., 148. 1 743. J MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS. 97 mained the undisturbed possessor of the rest of her father's dominions, and that her husband, the Duke of Lorraine, would have been now seated on the imperial throne. This salutary measure was not pursued. This appears, sir, not only from the Gazettes, but from our parliamentary knowledge. For, from the papers which have been either accidentally or necessarily laid before Parliament, it appears, that instead of insisting that the court of Vienna should agree to the terms offered by Prussia, we rather encouraged the obstinacy of that court in rejecting them. We did this, sir, not by our memorials alone, but by his Majesty's speech to his Parliament, by the consequent addresses of both houses, and by speeches directed by our courtiers against the King of Prussia. I allude, sir, to his Majesty's speech on the 8th of April, 1741, to the celebrated addresses on that occa- sion for guaranteeing the dominions of Hanover, and for granting c£300,000 to enable his Maj- esty to su])port the Queen of Hungary. The speeches made on that occasion by several of our favorites at court, and their reflections on the King of Prussia, must be fresh in the memory of all. All must remember, too, that the Queen of Hungary was not then, nor for some months aft- er, attacked by any one prince in Europe ex- cepting the King of Prussia. She must, there- fore, have supposed that both the court and na- tion of Great Britain were resolved to support her, not only against the King of Prussia, but against all the world. We can not, therefore, be surprised that the court of Vienna evinced an unwillingness to part with so plenteous a coun- try as that claimed by the King of Prussia — the lordship of Silesia. But, sir, this was not all. Not only had we promised our assistance to the Queen of Hun- gary, but we had actually commenced a negoti- ation for a powerful alliance against the King of Prussia, and for dividing his dominions among the allies. We had solicited, not only the Queen of Hungary, but also the Muscovites and the Dutch, to form parts of this alliance. We had taken both Danes and Hessians into our pay, in support of this alliance. Nay, even Hanover had subjected herself to heavy expenses on this occasion, by adding a force of nearly one third to the army she had already on foot. This, sir, was, 1 believe, the first extraordinary expense wiiich Hanover had incurred since her fortunate conjunction with England ; the first, I say, not- withstanding the great acquisitions she has made, and the many heavy expenses in which England has been involved upon her sole account. If, therefore, the Queen of Hungary was ob- stinate in regard to the claims of Prussia, her obstinacy must be ascribed to ourselves. To us must be imputed those misfortunes which she subsequently experienced. It was easy to prom- ise her our assistance while the French seemed determined not to interfere w'lth Germany. It was safe to engage in schemes for her support, and for the enlargement of the Hanoverian do- minions, because Prussia could certainly not op- G pose an equal resistance to the Queen of Hun- gary alone, mnch less so to that Queen when supported by Hanover and the whole power of Great Britain. During this posture of affairs, it was safe for us, I say, it was safe for Hanover, to promise assistance and to concert schemes in support of the Queen of Hungary. But no soon- er did France come forward than our schemes were at an end, our promises forgotten. The safety of Hanover was then involved ; and En- gland, it seems, is not to be bound by promises, nor engaged in schemes, w'hich, by possibility, may endanger or distress the Electorate ! From this time, sir, we thought no more of assisting the Queen of Hungary, excepting by grants which were made by Parliament. These, in- deed, our ministers did not oppose, because they contrive to make a job of every parliamentary grant. But from the miserable inactivity in which we allowed the Danish and Hessian troops to remain, notw^ithstanding that they received our pay ; and from the insult tamely submitted to by our squadron in the Mediterranean, we must conclude that our ministers, from the time the French interfered, resolved not to assist the Queen of Hungary by land or sea. Thus, hav- ing drawm that princess forward on the ice by our promises, we left her to retreat as she could. Thus it was, sir, that the Duke of Bavaria be- came Emperor.^ Thus it was that the house of Austria was stripped of great part of its do- minions, and was in the utmost danger of being stripped of all, had France been bent on its de- struction. Sir, the house of Austria was saved by the policy of France, who wished to reduce, but not absolutely to destroy it. Had Austria been ruined, the power of the Duke of Bavaria, who had been elected Emperor, would have ris- en higher than was consistent with the interests of France. It was the object of France to fo- ment divisions among the princes of Germany, to reduce them by mutual strife, and then to I'en- der the houses of Bavaria, Austria, and Saxony nearly equal by partitions. It was this policy which restrained the French from sending so powerful an army into Germany as they might otherwise have sent. And then, through the bad conduct of their generals, and through the skill and bravery of the officers and troops of the Queen of Hungary, a great improve- ment in her affairs was effected. This occurred about the time of the late changes in our admin- istration ; and this leads me to consider the ori- gin of those measures which are now proceed- ing, and the situation of Europe at that particu- lar time, February, 1742. But, before I enter upon that consideration, I must lay this down as a maxim to be ever observed by this nation, that, although it be our own interest to preserve a balance of powder in Europe, yet, as we are the most remote from danger, w^e have the least rea- son to be jealous as to the adjustment of that bal- ance, and should be the last to take alarm on its 2 The Duke of Bavaria was elected Emperor on the 12th of February, 1742. 98 LORD CHATHAM ON A [1743. account. Now the balance of power may be supported, either by the existence of one single potentate capable of opposing and defeating the ambitious designs of France, or by a well-con- nected confederacy adequate to the same intent. Of these two methods, the first, when practica- ble, is the most eligible, because on that method we may most safely rely ; but when it can not be resorted to, the whole address of our ministers and plenipotentiaries should tend to establish the second. The wisdom of the maxim, sir, to which I have adverted, must be acknowledged by all who consider, that when the powers upon the Conti- nent apply to us to join them in a war against France, we may take what share in the war we think fit. When we, on the contrary, apply to them, they will prescribe to us. However some gentlemen may affect to alarm themselves or others by alleging the dependency of all the Eu- ropean powers upon France, of this we maj- rest assured, that when those powers are really threat- ened with such dependency, they will unite among themselves, and call upon us also to prevent it. Nay, sir, should even that dependence imper- ceptibly ensue ; so soon as they perceived it, they would unite among themselves, and call us to join the confederacy by which it might be shaken off. Thus we can never be x-educed to stand single in support of the balance of power ; nor can we be compelled to call upon our con- tinental neighbors for such [)urpose, unless when our ministers have an interest in pretending and asserting imaginary dangers. The posture of Europe since the time of the Romans is wonderfully changed. In those times each country was divided into many sovereign- ties. It was then impossible for the people of any one country to unite among themselves, and much more impossible for two or three large countries to combine in a genei-al confederacy against the enormous power of Rome. But such confederacy is very practicable now, and may always be effected whenever France, or any one of the powers of Europe, shall endeavor to en- slave the rest. I have said, sir, that the balance of power in Europe may be maintained as se- curely by a confederacy as it can be by opposing any one rival power to the power of France. Now, let us examine to which of these two methods we ought to have resorted in February, 1742. The imperial diadem was then fallen from the house of Austria ; and although the troops of the Queen of Hungary had met with some success during the winter, that sovereign was still stripped of great part of the Austrian dominions. The power of that house was there- fore greatly inferior to what it was at the time of the late emperor's death; and still more in- ferior to what it had been in 1716, when we considered it necessary to add Naples and Sar- dinia to its former acquisitions, in order to ren- der it a match for France. Besides this, there existed in 1742 a veiy powerful confederacy against the house of Austria, while no jealousy was harbored by the powers of Europe against the ambition of France. For France, although she had assisted in depressing the house of Aus- tria, had shown no design of increasing her own dominions. On the other hand, the haughty de- meanor of the court of Vienna, and the height to which that house had been raised, excited a spirit of disgust and jealousy in the princes of Ger- many. That spirit first manifested itself in the house of Hanover, and at this very time prevailed not only there, but in most of the German sov- ereignties. Under such circumstances, however weak and erroneous our ministers might be, they could not possibly think of restoring the house of Austria to its former splendor and power. They could not possibly oppose that single house as a i-ival to France. No power in Europe would have cordially assisted them in that scheme They would have had to cope, not only with France and Spain, but with all the princes of Germany and Italy, to whom Austria had be- come obnoxious. In these cii'cumstances, what was this nation to do ? It was impossible to establish the balance of power in Europe upon the single power of the house of Austria. Surely, then, sir, it was our business to think of restoring the peace of Ger- many as soon as possible by our good offices, in order to establish a confederacy sufficient to op- pose France, should she afterward discover any ambitious intentions. It was now not so much our business to prevent the lessening the power of the house of Austria, as it was to bring about a speedy reconciliation between the princes of Germany; to take care that France should get as little by the treaty of peace as she said she expected by the war. This, I say, should have been our chief concern ; because the preserva- tion of the balance of power was now no longer to depend upon the house of Austria, but upon the joint power of a confederacy then to be formed ; and till the princes of Germany were reconciled among themselves, tliere was scarce- ly a possibility of forming such a confederacy. If we had made this our scheme, the Dutch would have joined heartily in it. The German- ic body would have joined in it ; and the peace of Germany might have been restored without putting this nation to any expense, or diverting us from the prosecution of our just and neces- sary war against Spain, in case our differences with that nation could not have been adjusted by the treaty for restoring the peace of Ger- many. II. But our new minister, as I have said, ran into an extreme quite opposite to that of carterefs the old. Our former minister thought i"^''*^^' of nothing but negotiating when he ought to have thought of nothing but war ; the present minister has thought of nothing but war, or at least its resemblance, when he ought to have thought of nothing but negotiation. A resolution was taken, and preparations were made, for sending a body of troops to Flanders, even before we had any hopes of the King of Prussia's deserting his alliance with France, and without our being called on to do so by any 1743.] MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS. Q9 one power in Europe. I say, sir, by any one power in Europe ; for I dety our ministers to show that even the Queen of Hungary desired any such thing before it was resolved on. I believe some of her ministers were free enough to declare that the money those troops cost would have done her much more service ; and I am sure we were so far from being called on by the Dutch to do so, that it was resolved on without their participation, and the measures carried into execution, I believe, expressly con- trary to their advice. This resolution, sir, was so far from having any influence on the King of Prussia, that he continued firm to bis alliance with France, and fought the battle of Czaslau after he knew such a resolution was taken. If he had continued firm in the same sentiments, I am very sure our troops neither would nor could have been of the least service to the Queen of Hungary. But the battle of Czaslau fully convinced him that the French designed chiefly to play one German prince against another, in order to weaken both ; and perhaps he had before this discovered, that, according to the French scheme, his share of Silesia was not to be so considerable as he ex- pected. These considerations, and not the elo- quence or address of any of our ministers, in- clined him to come to an agreement with the Queen of Hungary. As she was now convinced that she could not depend upon our promises, she readily agreed to his terms, though his de- mands were now much more extravagant than they were at first ; and, what is worse, they wei'e now unaccompanied with any one promise or consideration, except that of a neutrality ; A\'^hereas his first demands were made palatable by the tender of a large sum of money, and by the promise of his utmost assistance, not only in supporting the Pragmatic Sanction, but in rais- ino her husband, the Duke of Lorraine, to the imperial throne. Nay, originally, he even in- sinuated that he would embrace the first oppor- tunity to assist in procuring her house an equiv- alent for whatever part of Silesia she should re- sign to him. This accommodation between the Queen of Hungary and the King of Prussia, and that which soon after followed between her and the Duke of Saxony, produced a very great alteration in the affairs of Europe. But, as these last powers promised nothing but a neutrality, and as the Dutch absolutely refused to join, either with the Queen of Hungary or with ourselves, in any of- fensive measures against France, it was still im- possible for us to think of restoring the house of Austria to such power as to render it a match for the power of France. We ought, therefore, still to have thought only of negotiation, in order to restore the peace of Germany by an accom- modation between her and the Emperor. The distresses to which the Bavarian and French ar- mies in Germany were driven furnished us with such an opportunity : this we ought by all means to have embraced, and to have insisted on the Queen of Hungary's doing the same, under the pain of being entirely deserted by us. A peace was offered both by the Emperor and the French, upon the terms of uti possidetis, with respect to Germany ; but, for what reason I can not com- prehend, we were so far from advising the Queen of Hungary to accept, that I believe we advised her to reject it. This, sir, was a conduct in our ministers so very extraordinary, so directly opposite to the interest of this nation, and the security of the balance of power, that I can suggest to myself no one reason for it, but that they w^ere resolved to put this nation to the expense of maintaining sixteen thousand Hanoverians. This I am afraid was the true motive with our new ministers for all the warlike measures they resolved on. Noth- ing would now satisfy us but a conquest of Alsace and Lorraine in order to give them to the Queen of Hungary, as an equivalent for what she had lost. And this we resolved on, or at least pre- tended to resolve on, at a time when France and Prussia were in close conjunction ; at a time when no one of the powers of Europe could as- sist us ; at a time when none of them entertained a jealousy of the ambitious designs of France ; and at a time when most of the princes of Ger- many were so jealous of the power of the house of Austria, that we had great reason to appre- hend that the most considerable of these would join against us, in case we should meet with any success. Sir, if our ministers were really serious in this scheme, it was one of the most romantic that ever entered the head of an English Quixote. But if they made it only a pretext for putting this nation to the expense of maintaining six- teen thousand Hanoverians, or of acquiring some new territory for the Electorate of Hanover, I am sure no British House of Commons can ap- prove their conduct. It is absurd, sir, to say that we could not advise the Queen of Hungary to accept of the terms offered by the Emperor and France, at a time when their troops were cooped up in the city of Prague, and when the terms were offered with a view only to get their troops at liberty, and to take the first opportu- nity to attack her with more vigor. This, I say, is absurd, because, had she accepted the terms proposed, she might have had them guaranteed by the Dutch, by the German body, and by all the pow^erful princes of Germany ; which would have brought all these powers into a confederacy with us against the Emperor and France, if they had afterward attacked her in Germany ; and all of them, but especially the Dutch, and the King of Prussia, would have been ready to join us, had the French attacked her in Flanders. It is equally absurd to say that she could not accept of these terms, because they contained nothing for the security of her dominions in Italy. For suppose the war had continued in Italy, if the Queen of Hungary had been safe upon the side of Germany, she could have poured sueL a num- ber of troops into Italy as would have been suffi- cient to oppose and defeat all the armies that both the French and Spaniards could send to and 100 LORD CHATHAM ON A [1743 maintain in that country ; since we could, by our superior fleets, have made it impossible for the French and Spaniards to maintain great armies in that countiy. No other reason can therefore be assigned for the Queen of Hungary's refusal of the terms proposed to her for restoring the tranquillity of Germany than this alone, that we had promised to assist her so effectually as to enable her to conquer a part of France, by way of equivalent for what she had lost in Germany and Italy. Such assistance it was neither our interest nor in our power to give, considering the circum- stances of Europe. I am really surprised that the Queen of Hungary came to trust a second time to our promises ; for I may venture to prophesy that she will find herself again deceiv- ed. We shall put ourselves to a vast unneces- sary expense, as we did when she was first at- tacked by Prussia ; and without being able to raise a jealousy in the other powers of Europe, we shall give France a pretense for conquering Flandex'S, which, otherwise, she would not have done. We may bring the Queen of Hungary a second time to the verge of destruction, and leave her there ; for that we certainly shall do, as soon as Hanover comes to be a second time in danger. From all which I must conclude, that our present scheme of politics is fundament- ally wrong, and that the longer we continue to build upon such a foundation, the more danger- ous it will be for us. The whole fabric will in- volve this unfortunate nation in its ruins. HI. But now, sir, let us see how we have Conduct of prosecuted this scheme, bad as it is, dur- ihe war. ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ Campaign. As this nation must bear the chief part of the expense, it was certainly our business to prosecute the war with all possible vigor ; to come to action as soon as possible, and to push every advantage to the ut- most. Since we soon found that we could not attack the French upon the side of Flanders, why were our troops so long marching into Germany ? Or, indeed, I should ask, why our armies were not first assembled in that country? Why did they continue so long inactive upon the Mayn ? If our army was not numerous enough to attack the French, why were the Hessians left behind for some time in Flanders ? Why did we not send over twenty thousand of those regular troops that were lying idle here at home ? How to answer all those questions I can not tell ; but it is certain we never thought of attacking the French army in our neighbor- hood, and, I believe, expected very little to be attacked ourselves. Nay, I doubt much if any action would have happened during the whole campaign, if the French had not, by the miscon- duct of some one or other of our generals, caught our army in a hose-net, from which it could not have escaped, had all the French generals ob- served the direction of their commander-in-chief ; had they thought only of guarding and fortifying themselves in the defile [DettingenJ, and not of marching up to attack our troops. Thank God, sir, the courage of some of the French generals got the better of their discretion, as well as of their military discipline. This made them at- tack, instead of waiting to be attacked; and then, by the bravery of the English foot, and the cow- ardice of their own, they met with a severe re- pulse, which put their whole army into confu- sion, and obliged them to retire with precipita- tion across the Mayn. Our army thus escaped the snare into which they had been led, and was enabled to pursue its retreat to Hanau. This, sir, was a signal advantage ; but was it followed up ? Did we press upon the enemy in their precipitate retreat across a great river, where many of them must have been lost had they been closely pursued? Did we endeavor to take the least advantage of the confusion into which their unexpected repulse had thrown them ? No, sir ; the ardor of the British troops was restrained by the cowardice of the Hano- verians ; and, instead of pursuing the enemy, we ourselves ran away in the night with such haste that we left all our wounded to the mercy and care of the enemy, who had the honor of bury- ing our dead as well as their own. This action may, therefore, on our side, be called a fortunate escape ; I shall never give my consent to honor it with the name of victory. After this escape, sir, our army was joined by a ver}' large re-enforcement. Did this revive our courage, or urge us on to give battle ? Not in the least, sir ; though the French continued for some time upon the German side of the Rhine, we never offered to attack them, or to give them the least disturbance. At last, upon Prince Charles's approach with the Austrian army, the French not only repassed the Rhine, but retired quite out of Germany. And as the Austrian army and the allied army might then have join- ed, and might both have passed the Rhine w^ith- out opposition at Mentz, or almost any where in the Palatinate, it was expected that both ar- mies would have marched together into Lor- raine, or in search of the French army, in order to force them to a battle. Instead of this, sir. Prince Charles marched up the German side of the Rhine — to do what? To pass that great river, in the sight of a French army equal in number to his own, which, without some extra- ordinary neglect in the French, was impractica- ble ; and so it w^as found by experience. Thus the whole campaign upon that side was con- sumed in often attempting what so often appear- ed to be impracticable. On the other side — I mean that of the allied army^was there any thing of consequence per- formed ? I know of nothing, sir, but that of sending a party of hussars into Lorraine with a manifesto. The army, indeed, passed the Rhine at Mentz, and marched up to the French lines upon the frontier of Alsace, but never offered to pass those lines until the French had abandoned them, I believe with a design to draw our army into some snare ; for, upon the return of the French toward those lines, we retired with much greater haste than we had advanced, though the Dutch auxiliaries were then come up and pre- 1743.] MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS. 101 tended, at least, to be ready to join our army. I have hcai-d, however, that they found a pre- text for never cominjr into the line ; and I doubt much if they would have marched with us to at- tack the French army in their own territories, or to invest any of the fortified places ; for I must ob.serve that the French lines upon the Qucich were not all of them within the territories of France. But suppose this Dutch detachment had been ready to march with us to attack the French in their own territories, or to invest some of their fortified places, I can not join in any congratulation upon that event ; for a small de- tachment of Dutch troops can never enable us to execute the vast scheme we have undertaken. The whole force of that republic would not be sufficient for the purpose, because we should have the majority of the empire a^^ainst us ; and, therefore, if the Dutch had joined totis viribus^ in our scheme, instead of congratulating, I should have bemoaned their running mad by our exam- ple and at our instigation. IV. Having now briefly examined our past Prospects for conduct, from the few remarks I have the future. j^ade, I belicve, sir, it will appear that, supposing our scheme to be in itself possible and practicable, we have no reason to hope for suc- cess if it be not prosecuted with more vigor and with better conduct than it was during the last campaign. While we continue in the prosecu- tion of this scheme, whoever may lose, the Han- overians will be considerable gainers. They will draw four or five hundred thousand pounds yearly from this nation over and above what they have annually drawn, ever since they had the good fortune to be united under the same sovereign with ourselves. But we ought to con- sider — even the Hanoverians ought to consider — that this nation is not now in a condition to carry on an expensive war for ten or twelve years, as it did in the reign of Queen Anne. We may fund it out for one, two, or three years ; but the public debt is now so large that, if we go on adding millions to it every year, our credit will at last (sooner, I fear, than some among us may imagine) certainly be undone ; and if this misfortune should occur, neither Hanover nor any other foreign state would be able to draw another shilling from the country. A stop to our public credit would put an end to our paper currency. A universal bankruptcy would en- sue, and all the little ready money left among us would be locked up in iron chests, or hid in by-corners by the happy possessors. It would then be impossible to raise our taxes, and conse- quently impossible to maintain either fleets or armies. Our troops abroad would be obliged to enter into the service of any prince that could maintain them, and our troops at home would be obliired to live upon free quarter. But this they could not do long ; for the farmer would neither sow nor reap if he found his produce taken from him by the starving soldier. In these circum- stances, I must desire the real friends of our 3 With all their forces. present happy establishment to consider what might be the consequence of the Pretender's landing among us at the head of a French army. Would he not be looked upon by most men as a savior ? Would not the majority of the people join with him, in order to rescue the nation from those that had brought it into such confusion? This danger, sir, is, I hope, imaginary, but I am sure it is far from being so imaginary as that which has been held out in this debate, the dan- ger of all the powers of the continent of Europe being brought under such a slavish dependence upon France as to join with her in conquering this island, or in bringing it under the same slavish dependence with themselves. I had almost forgotten, sir (I wish future na- tions may forget), to mention the Treaty of Worms.* I wish that treaty could be erased from our annals and our records, so as never to be mentioned hereafter : for that treaty, with its appendix, the convention that followed, is one of the most destructive, unjust, and absurd that was ever concluded. By that treaty we have taken upon ourselves a burden which I think it impos- sible for us to support ; w^e have engaged in such an act of injustice toward Genoa as must alarm all Europe, and give to the French a most signal advantage. From this, sir, all the princes of Europe will see what regard we have to jus- tice when we think that the power is on our side 5 most of them, therefore, will probably join with France in curtailing our power, or, at least, in preventing its increase. * The Treaty of Worms was an offensive and de- fensive alliance, concluded on the 2d of September, 1743, between England, Austria, and Sardinia. By it the dueen of Hungary agreed to transfer to the King of Sardinia the city and part of the duchy of Placentia, the Vigevanesco, part of the duchy of Pa- via, and the county of Anghiera, as well as her claims to the marquisate of Finale, which had been ceded to the Genoese by the late Emperor Charles VT. for the sum of 400,000 golden crowns, for which it had been previously mortgaged. The Q,ueen of Hungary also engaged to maintain .30,000 men in Italy, to be commanded by the King of Sardinia. Great Britain agreed to pay the sum of £300,000 for the cession of Finale, and to furnish an annual sub- sidy of £200,000, on the condition that the King of Sardinia should employ 45,000 men. In addition to supplying these sums. Great Britain agreed to send a strong squadron into the Mediterranean, to act in concert with the allied forces. By a separate and secret convention, agreed to at the same time and place as the treaty, but which was never ratified nor publicly avowed, it was stipulated that Great Britain should pay to the Q,ueen of Hungary an an- nual subsidy of £300,000, not merely during the war, but so long " as the necessity of her affairs should require." The terms of the Treaty of Worms rela- tive to the cession of the marquisate of Finale to Sardinia were particularly unjust to the Genoese, since that territory had been guaranteed to them by the fourth article of the Quadruple AUiance, con- cluded on the 2d of August, ]718, between Great Britain, France, Austria, and Holland. — Coxe's Aus- tria, chap. civ. Lord Mahon's Hist, of England, vol. iii., p. 231. Belsham's Hist, of England., vol. iv., p. 82, ct seq. 102 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1766 The alliance of Sardinia and its assistance may, 1 admit, be of great use to us in defeating the designs of the Spaniards in Italy. But gold itself may be bought too dear; and I fear we shall find the purchase we have made to be but precarious, especially if Sardinia should be at- tacked by France as well as by Spain, the almost certain consequence of our present scheme of politics. For these reasons, sir, I hope there is not any gentleman, nor even any minister, who expects that I should declare my satisfaction that this treaty has been concluded. It is very surprising, sir, to hear gentlemen talk of the great advantages of unanimity in our proceedings, when, at the time, they are doing all they can to prevent unanimity. If the hon- orable gentleman had intended that what he pro- posed should be unanimously agreed to, he w^ould have returned to the ancient custom of Parlia- ment which some of his new friends have, on former occasions, so often recommended. It is a new doctrine to pretend that we ought in our address to return some sort of answer to every thing mentioned in his Majesty's speech. It is a doctrine that has prevailed only since our Par- liaments began to look more like French than English Parliaments; and now we pretend to be such enemies of France, I supposed we should have laid aside a doctrine which the very meth- od of proceeding in Parliament must show to be false. His Majesty's speech is not now so much as under our consideration, but upon a previous order for that purpose ; therefore we can not now properly take notice of its contents, any farther than to determine whether we ought to return thanks for it or not. Even this we may refuse, without being guilty of any breach of duty to our sovereign ; but of this, I believe, no gentleman would have thought, had the honorable gentle- man who made this motion not attached to it a long and fulsome panegyric upon the conduct of our ministers. I am convinced no gentleman would have objected to our expressing our duty to our sovereign, and our zeal for his service, in the strongest and most affectionate terms : nor would any gentleman have refused to congratu- late his Majesty upon anj^ fortunate event hap- pening to the royal family. The honoiable gen- tleman would have desired no more tlian this, had he intended that his motion should be unan- imously agreed to. But ministers are generally the authors and draw^ers up of the motion, and they always have a greater regard for them- selves than for the service of their sovereign ; that is the true reason why such motions seldom meet with unanimous approbation. As to the danger, sir, of our returning or not returning to our national custom upon this oc- casion, I think it lies wholly upon the side of our not returning. I have shown that the measures we are now pursuing are fundamentally wrong, and that the longer we pursue them, the heavier our misfortunes will prove. Unless some signal providence inter])ose, expei'ience, I am convinced, will confirm what I say. By the immediate in- tervention of Providence, we may, it is true, suc- ceed in the most improbable schemes ; but Prov- idence seems to be against us. The sooner, therefore, we repent and amend, the better it will be for us ; and unless repentance begins in this House, I shall no where expect it until dire experience has convinced us of our errors. For these reasons, sir, I wish, I hope, that we may now begin to put a stop to the farther pros- ecution of these disastrous measures, by refusing them our approbation. If we put a negative upon this question, it may awaken our ministers from their deceitful dreams. If we agree to it, they will dream on till they have dreamed Eu- rope their country, and themselves into utter perdition. If they stop now, the nation may re- cover ; but if by such a flattering address w-e encourage them to go on, it may soon become impossible for them to retreat. For the sake of Europe, therefore, for the sake of my country, I most heartily join in putting a negative upon the question. After a protracted debate, the address was carried by a vote of 279 to 149. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON AN ADDRESS TO THE THRONE, IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF TAXING / AMERICA IS DISCUSSED, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, JANUARY 14, 1766. INTRODUCTION. Mr. George Guenville, during his brief admuiistration from 1763 to 1765, adopted a plan for replen- ishing the exhausted treasury of Great Britain, which had been often proposed before, but rejected by every preceding minister. It was that of levying direct taxes on the American colonies. His famous Stamp Act was brought forward February 7th, 1765. It was strongly opposed by Colonel Bane, who thus indignantly replied to the charge of ingratitude, brought by Charles Townsend against the Ameri- cans, as " children planted by our care, nourished by our indulgence, and protected by our arms," &c. " They planted by your care?" said Colonel Barro: "No! Your oppressions planted them in America. They fled from your tyranny to a then uncultivated and inhospitable country, where they exposed them- selves to almost all the hardships to which human nature is liable ; and, among others, to the cruelties of a savage foe, the most subtle, and, I will take it upon me to say, the most formidable of any people on. earth ; and yet, actuated by principles of true English liberty, they met all hardships with pleasure, com- I RIGHT OF TAXING AMERICA. 103 1766.] pared with those they suffered in their native land from the hands of those who should have been their friends. They nourished by your indulgence 7 They grew by your neglect of them ! As soon as you began to care about them, that care was exercised in sending persons to rule them, who were, per- haps, the deputies of deputies to some members of this House— sent to spy out their liberties, to mis- represent their actions, and to prey upon them — men promoted to the highest seats of justice ; some of whom, to my knowledge, were glad, by going to a foreign country, to escape being brought to the bar of a court of justice in their own. They protected by your arms 1 They have nobly taken up arms in your defense; have exerted a valor, amid their constant and laborious industry, for the de- fense of a country whose frontier was drenched in blood, while its interior yielded all its little savings to your emolument. And— believe me— remember I this day told you so— that same spirit of freedom which actuated that people at first, will accompany them still. But prudence forbids me to say more. God knows I do not, at this time, speak from motives of party heat. What I deliver are the genuine senti- ments of my heart. However superior to me in general knowledge and experience the respectable body of this House may be, I claim to know more of America than most of you, having seen and been conver- sant with that country. The people are, I believe, as truly loyal as any subjects the King has ; but a people jealous of their liberties, and who will vindicate them, if they should ever be violated." This prophetic warning was in vain. The bill was passed on the 22d of March, 1765. A few months after, the ministry of Mr. Grenville came abruptly to an end, and was followed by the administration of Lord Rockingham. That able statesman was fully convinced that nothing but the re- peal of the Stamp Act could restore tranquillity to the colonies, which, according to Colonel Barre's pre- dictions, were in a state of almost open resistance. The news of this resistance reached England at the close of 1765, and Parliament was sumnioned on the 17th of December. The plan of the ministry was to repeal the Stamp Act ; but, in accordance with the King's wishes, to re-assert (in doing so) the right of Par- liament to tax the colonies. Against this course Mr. Pitt detei'mined to take his stand ; and when the ordinary address was made in answer to the King's speech, he entered at once on the subject of Ameri- can taxation, in a strain of the boldest eloquence. His speech was reported by Sir Robert Dean, assisted by Lord Charlemont, and, though obviously broken and imperfect, gives us far more of the language actu- ally used by Mr. Pitt than any of the preceding speeches. SPEECH, &c. Mr. Speaker, — I came to town but to-day. I was a stranprer to the tenor of his Majesty's speech, and the proposed address, till I heard them read in this House. Unconnected and un- consulted, I have not the means of information. I am fearful of ofrending through mistake, and therefore beg to be indulged with a second read- ing of the proposed address. [The address being read, Mr. Pitt went on :] I commend the King's speech, and approve of the address in answer, as it decides nothing, every gentleman being left at perfect liberty to take such a part con- cerning America as he may afterward see fit. One word only I can not approve of : an " early," is a word that does not belong to the notice the ministry have given to Parliament of the troubles in America. In a matter of such importance, the communication ought to have been imme- diate ! I speak not now with respect to parties. I stand up in this place single and independent. As to the late ministry [turning himself to Mr. Grenville, who sat within one of him], every cap- ital measure they have taken has been entirely wrong ! As to the present gentlemen, to those at least whom I have in my eye [looking at the bench where General Conway sat with the lords of the treasury], I have no objection. I have never been made a sacrifice l3y any of them. Their characters are fair ; and I am aUvays glad W'hen men of fair character engage in his Majesty's service. Some of them did me the honor to ask my opinion before they would en- gage. These wall now do me the justice to own, I advised them to do it — but, notwithstand- ing (for I love to be explicit), / can not give the?n my confidence. Pardon me, gentlemen [bowing to the ministry], confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom. Youth is the season of credulity. By comparing events with each other, reasoning from effects to causes, methinks I plainly discover the traces of an overruling in- fluence.^ There is a clause in the Act of Settlement obliging every minister to'sign his name to the advice which he gives to his sovereign. Would it were observed ! I have had the honor to serve the Crown, and if I could have submitted to in- fluence, I might have still continued to serve : but I would not be responsible for others. I have no local attachments. It is indifferent to me whether a man was rocked in his cradle on this side or that side of the Tweed. I sought for merit wherever it was to be found. It is my boast, that I was the first minister who looked for it, and found it, in the mountains of the North. I called it forth, and drew into your service a hardy and intrepid race of men — men, who, when left by your jealousy, became a prey to the artifices of your enemies, and had gone nigh ^ Chas. Butler says in his Reminiscences, " Those who remember the air of condescending protection with which the bow was made and the look given, will recollect how much they themselves, at the mo- ment, were both delighted and awed ; and what thej- themselves conceived of the immeasurable superi- ority of the speaker over every other human being that surrounded him." 104 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1766. to have overturned the state in the v'ar before the last. These men, in the last war, were brought to combat on your side. They served with fidelity, as they fought with valor, and con- quered for you in every pai't of the world. De- tested be the national reflections against them ! They are unjust, groundless, illiberal, unmanly ! When I ceased to serve his Majesty as a min- ister, it was not the country of the man by which I was moved — but the man of that country wanted wisdom, and held principles incompati- ble with freedom.^ It is a long time, Mr. Speaker, since I have attended in Parliament. When the resolution was taken in this House to tax America, I was ill in bed. If I could have endured to be car- ried in my bed — so great was the agitation of my mind for the consequences — I would have solicited some kind hand to have laid me down on this floor, to have borne my testimony against it ! It is now an act that has passed. I would speak with decency of every act of this House ; but I must beg the indulgence of the House to speak of it with freedom. I hope a day may soon be appointed to con- sider the state of the nation with respect to America. I hope gentlemen will come to this debate with all the temper and impartiality that his Majesty recommends, and the importance of the subject requires ; a subject of greater im- portance than ever engaged the attention of this House, that subject only excepted, when, near a century ago,^ it was the question, whether you yourselves were to be bond or free. In the mean time, as I can not depend upon my health for any future day (such is the nature of my in- 2 It need hardly be said that Lord Bate is aimed at tliroughout the whole of these two paragraphs. The passage illustrates a mode of attack which Lord Chatham often used, that o{ pointing at an in- dividual in a manner at once so significant as to ar- rest attention, and yet so remote as to involve no breach of decorum — saying the severest things by implication, and leaving the hearer to apply them; thus avoiding the coarseness of personal invective, and giving a wide scope for ingenuity in the most stinging allusions. In the present case, the allusion to Bute as having " made a sacrifice" of Chatham, by driving him from power through a secret ascendency over the King; to "the traces of an overruling in- fluence" from the same quarter as a reason for with- holding confidence from the new ministry ; and to Bute's shrinking from that responsibility which the Act of Settlement imposed upon all advisers of the King — these and other allusions to the favorite of George III. would be instantly understood and keenly felt among a people who have always re- garded the character oi & favorite with dread and abhorrence. Lord Chatham, to avoid the imputa- tion of being influenced in what he said by the pre- vailing prejudices against Bute as a Scotchman, re- fers to himself, in glowing language, as the first minister who employed Highlanders in the army; calling " from the mountains of the North" " a hardy and intrepid race of men," who had been alienated by previous severity, but who, by that one act of confidence, were indissolubly attached to the house of Hanover. 3 At the Revolution of 1688. firmities), I will beg to say a few words at pies- ent, leaving the justice, the equity, the policy, the expediency of the act to another time. I will only speak to one point, a point which seems not to have been generally understood. I mean to the right. Some gentlemen [alluding to Mr. Nugent] seem to have considered it as a point of honor. If gentlemen consider it in that light, they leave all measures of right and wrong, to follow a delusion that may lead to de- struction. It is my opinion, that this kingdom has no right to lay a tax upon the colonies. At the same time, I assert the authority of this kingdom over the colonies to be sovereign and supreme, in every circumstance of government and legislation whatsoever. They are the sub- jects of this kingdom : equally entitled with your- selves to all the natural rights of mankind and the peculiar privileges of Englishmen ; equally bound by its laws, and equally participating in the constitution of this free country. The Amer- icans are the sons, not the bastards of England ! Taxation is no part of the governing or legisla- tive power. The taxes are a voluntary gift and grant of the Commons alone. In legislation the three estates of the realm are alike concern- ed ; but the concurrence of the peers and the Ci'own to a tax is only necessary to clothe it with the form of a law. The gift and grant is of the Commons alone. In ancient days, the Crown, the bai'ons, and the clergy possessed the lands. In those days, the barons and the clergy gave and granted to the Crown. Thev jjave and granted what was their At present, since the discovery of America, and other cir- cumstances permitting, the Commons are be- come the proprietors of the land. The Church (God bless it !) has but a pittance. The prop- erty of the lords, compared with that of the com- mons, is as a drop of water in the ocean ; and this House represents those commons, the pro- prietors of the lands ; and those proprietors vir- tually represent the rest of the inhabitants. When, therefore, in this House, we give and grant, we give and grant what is our own. But in an American tax, what do we do? "We, your Majesty's Commons for Great Britain, give and grant to your Majesty" — what ? Our own property ? No ! " We give and grant to your Majesty" the property of your Majesty's com- mons of America ! It is an absurdity in terms. The distinction between legislation and tax- ation is essentially necessary to liberty. The Crown and the peers are equally legislative pow- ers with the Commons. If taxation be a part of simple legislation, the Crown and the peers have rights in taxation as well as yourselves ; rights which they will claim, which they will exercise, whenever the principle can be support- ed by power. There is an idea in some that the colonies are virtually represented in the House. I would fain know by whom an American is represented here. Is he represented by any knight of the shire, in any county in this kingdom ? Woiild to God that respectable representation was aug- 1766.] RIGHT OF TAXING AMERICA. 105 merited to a greater number ! Or will you tell him that he is represented by any representative of a borough ? a borough which, perhaps, its own representatives never saw ! This is what is called the rotten part of the Constitution. It can not continue a century. If it does not drop, it must be amputated.* The idea of a virtual representation of America in this House is the most contemptible idea that ever entered into the head of a man. It does not deserve a se- rious refutation. The Commons of America, represented in their several assemblies, have ever been in pos- session of the exercise of this, their constitutional right, of giving and granting their own money. They would have been slaves if they had not enjoyed it ! At the same time, this kingdom, as the supreme governing and legislative power, has always bound the colonies by her laws, by her regulations, and restrictions in trade, in nav- igation, in manufactures, in every thing, except that of taking their money out of their pockets without their consent. Here I would draw the line, duam ultra citraque neque consistere rectum. 5 [As soon as Lord Chatham concluded. Gen- eral Conway arose, and succinctly avowed his entire approbation of that part of his Lordship's speech which related to American affairs, but disclaimed altogether that " secret overruling influence which had been hinted at." Mr. George Grenville, who followed in the debate, expatiated at large on the tumults and riots which had taken place in the colonies, and de- clared that they bordered on rebellion. He con- demned the language and sentiments which he had heai'd as encouraging a revolution. A por- tion of his speech is here inserted, as explanatory of the replication of Lord Chatham.''] I can not, said Mr. Grenville, understand the difference between external and internal taxes. They are the same in effect, and differ only in name. That this kingdom has the sovereign, the supreme legislative power over America, is granted ; it can not be denied ; and taxation is a part of that sovereign power. It is one branch of the legislation. It is, it has been, exercised over those w^ho are not, who were never repre- sented. It is exercised over the India Company, the merchants of London, the proprietors of the stocks, and over many great manufacturing towns. It was exercised over the county pala- tine of Chester, and the bishopric of Durham, before they sent any representatives to Parlia- ment. I appeal for proof to the preambles of the acts which gave them representatives ; one * We have here the first mention made by any English statesman of a reform in the borough sys- tem. A great truth once uttered never dies. The Reform Bill of Earl Grey had its origin in the mind of Chatham. 5 On neither side of vi^hich w^e can rightly stand ® Mr. Grenville, it will be remembered, had now no connection with the ministry, but was attempting to defend his Stamp Act against the attack of Mr. Pitt. in the reign of Henry VIII., the other in that of Charles II. [Mr. Grenville then quoted the acts, and desired that they might be read ; which hQ- ing done, he said.] When I proposed to tax America, I asked the House if any gentleman would object to the right ; I repeatedly asked it, and no man would attempt to deny it. Protec- tion and obedience are reciprocal. Great Brit- ain protects America; America is bound to yield obedience. If not, tell me when the Americans were emancipated ? When they want the pro- tection of this kingdom, they are always very ready to ask it. That protection has always been afforded them in the most full and ample manner. The nation has run herself into an im- mense debt to give them their protection ; and now, when they are called upon to contribute a small share toward the public expense — an ex- pense arising from themselves — they renounce your authority, insult your officers, and break out, I might almost say, into open rebellion. The seditious spirit of the colonies ow^es its birth to the factions in this House. Gentlemen are careless of the consequences of what they say, provided it answers the purposes of opposi- tion. We were told we trod on tender ground. We were bid to expect disobedience. What is this but telling the Americans to stand out against the law, to encourage their obstinacy with the expectation of support from hence ? "Let us only hold out a little," they would say, "our friends will soon be in power." Ungrate- ful people of America ! Bounties have been ex- tended to them. When I had the honor of serv- ing the Crown, while you yourselves were load- ed with an enormous debt, you gave bounties on their lumber, on their iron, their hemp, and many other articles. You have relaxed in their favor the Act of Navigation, that palladium of the British commerce ; and yet I have been abused in all the public papers as an enemy to the trade of America. I have been particularly charged with giving orders and instructions to prevent the Spanish trade, and thereby stopping the chan- nel by which alone North America used to be supplied with cash for remittances to this coun- try. I defy any man to produce any such or- ders or instructions. I discouraged no trade but what was illicit, what was prohibited by an act of Parliament. I desire a West India merchant (Mr. Long), well known in the city, a gentle- man of character, may be examined. He will tell you that I offered to do every thing in my power to advance the trade of America. I was above giving an answer to anonymous calum- nies ; but in this place it becomes one to wipe off the aspersion. [Here Mr. Grenville ceased. Several mem- bers got up to speak, but Mr. Pitt seeming to rise, the House was so clamorous for Mr. Pitt ! Mr. Pitt ! that the speaker was obliged to call to order.] Mr. Pitt said, I do not apprehend I am speak- ing twice. I did expressly reserve a part of my subject, in order to save the time of this House ; but I am compelled to proceed in it. I do not 106 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1766. twice ; I only finish what I designedly left imperfect. But if the House is of a different opinion, far be it from me to indulge a wish of transgression against order. I am content, if it be your pleasure, to be silent. [Here he paused. The House resounding with Go on ! go on ! he proceeded :] Gentlemen, sir, have been charged with giv- ing birth to sedition in America. They have spoken their sentiments with freedom against this unhappy act, and that freedom has become their crime. Sorry I am to hear the liberty of speech in this House imputed as a crime. But the imputation shall not discourage me. It is a liberty I mean to exercise. No gentleman ought to be afraid to exercise it. It is a liberty by which the gentleman who calumniates it might have pi'ofited. He ought to have desist- ed from his project. The gentleman tells us, America is obstinate ; America is almost in open rebellion. I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions of people, so dead to all the feel- ings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of the rest. I come not here armed at all points, with law cases and acts of Parlia- ment, with the statute book doubled down in dog's ears, to defend the cause of liberty. If I had, I myself would have cited the two cases of Chester and Durham. I would have cited them to show that, even under former arbitrary reigns, Parliaments were ashamed of taxing a people without their consent, and allowed them repi'e- sentatives. Why did the gentleman confine him- self to Chester and Durham ? He might have taken a higher example in Wales — Wales, that never was taxed by Parliament till it was incor- porated. I would not debate a particular point of law with the gentleman. I know his abili- ties. I have been obliged to his diligent re- searches. But, for the defense of liberty, upon a general principle, upon a constitutional prin- ciple, it is a ground on which I stand firm — on which I dare meet any man. The gentleman tells us of many who are taxed, and are not rep- resented. — the India Company, merchants, stock- holders, manufacturers. Surely many of these are represented in other capacities, as owners of land, or as freemen of boroughs. It is a mis- fortune that more are not equally represented. But they are all inhabitants, and, as such, are they not virtually represented ? Many have it in their option to be actually represented. They have connections with those that elect, and they have influence over them. The gentleman men- tioned the stockholders. I hope he does not reckon the debts of the nation as a part of the national estate. Since the accession of King William, many ministers, some of great, others of more moder- ate abilities, have taken the lead of government. [Here Mr. Pitt went through the list of them, bringing it down till he came to himself, giving a short sketch of the characters of each, and then proceeded :] None of these thought, or even dreatned, of robbing the colonies of their consti- tutional rights. That was reserved to mark the era of the late administration. Not that there were wanting some, when I had the honor to serve his Majesty, to propose to me to burn my fingers with an American stamp act. With the enemy at their back, with our bayonets at their breasts, in the day of their distress, perhaps the Americans would have submitted to the imposi- tion ; but it would have been taking an ungen- erous, an unjust advantage. The gentleman boasts of his bounties to America ! Are not these bounties intended finally for the benefit of this kingdom ? If they are not, he has misap- plied the national treasures ! I am no courtier of America. I stand up for this kingdom. I maintain that the Parliament has a right to bind, to restrain America. Our legislative power over the colonies is sovereign and supreme. When it ceases to be sovereign and supreme, I would advise every gentleman to sell his lands, if he can, and embark for that country. When two countries are connected to- gether like England and her colonies, without being incorporated, the one must necessarily govern. The greater must rule the less. But she must so rule it as not to contradict the fun- dameyital principles that are common to both. If the gentleman does not understand the dif- ference between external and internal taxes, I can not help it. There is a plain distinction be- tween taxes levied for the purposes of raising a revenue, and duties imposed for the regulation of trade, for the accommodation of the subject ; although, in the consequences, some revenue may incidentally arise from the latter. The gentleman asks, When were the colonies emancipated ? I desire to know, when were they made slaves ? But I dwell not upon words. When I had the honor of serving his Majesty, I availed myself of the means of information which I derived from my office. I speak, therefore, from knowledge. My materials were good. I was at pains to collect, to digest, to consider them ; and I will be bold to affirm, that the prof- its to Great Britain from the trade of the colo- nies, through all its branches, is two millions a year. This is the fund that carried you triumph- antly through the last war. The estates that were rented at two thousand pounds a year, threescore years ago, are at three thousand at present. Those estates sold then from fifteen to eighteen years purchase ; the same may now be sold for thirty. You owe this to America. This is the price America pays you for her protec- tion. And shall a miserable financier come with a boast, that he can bring " a pepper-corn" into the exchequer by the loss of millions to the na- tion V I dare not say how much higher these profits may be augmented. Omitting [i. c, not taking into account] the immense increase of people, by natural population, in the northern colonies, and the emigration from every p art of ■' Alluding to Mr. Nugent, who bad said that " a pepper-corn in acknowledgment of the right to tax America, was of more value than millions without it." 1766] RIGHT OF TAXING AMERICA. 107 Europe, I am convinced [on other grounds] that the commercial system of America may be al- tered to advantage. You have prohibited where j^ou ought to have encouraged. You have en- couraged where you ought to have prohibited. Improper restraints have been laid on the conti- nent in favor of the islands. You have but two nations to trade with in America. Would you had twenty ! Let acts of Parliament in conse- quence of treaties remain ; but let not an En- glish minister become a custom-house officer for Spain, or for any foreign power. Much is wrong ! Much may be amended for the gen- eral good of the whole ! Does the gentleman complain he has been misrepresented in the public prints ? It is a common misfortune. In the Spanish affair of the last war, I was abused in all the newspapers for having advised his Majesty to violate the laws of nations with regard to Spain. The abuse was industriously circulated even in handbills. If administration did not propagate the abuse, ad- ministration never contradicted it. I will not say what advice I did give the King. My ad- vice is in writing, signed by myself, in the pos- session of the Crown. But I will say what ad- vice I did not give to the King. I did not ad- vise him to violate any of the laws of nations. As to the report of the gentleman's prevent- ing in some way the trade for bullion with the Spaniards, it was spoken of so confidently that I own I am one of those who did believe it to be true. The gentleman must not wonder he was not contradicted when, as minister, he asserted the right of Parliament to tax America. I know not how it is, but there is a modesty in this House which does not choose to contradict a minister. Even your chair, sir, looks too often toward St. James's. I wish gentlemen would get the better of this modesty. If they do not, perhaps the collective body may begin to abate of its respect for the representative. Lord Ba- con has told me, that a great question would not fail of being agitated at one time or another. I was willing to agitate such a question at the proper season, viz., that of the German war — 7ny German war, they called it ! Every session I called out. Has any body any objection to the German war ?^ Nobody would object to it, one 8 This speech is so much condensed by the report- er as sometimes to make the connection obscure. Mr. Pitt is answering Mr. Grenviile's complaints by a reference to his own experience when minister. Had Mr. Grenville been misrepresented in the pub- lic prints ? So was Mr. Pitt in respect to " the Span- ish atTair of the last war." Had the Stamp Act been drawn into discussion, though originally passed with- out contradiction? Mr. Grenville might easily un- derstand that there was a reluctance to contradict the minister; and he might learn from Lord Bacon that a great question like this could not be avoided; it would be " agitated at one time or another." Mr. Pitt, when minister, had a great question of this kind, viz., the "German war," and he did not shrink from meeting it, or complain of the misrepresenta- tion to which he was subjected. He had originally gentleman only excepted, since lemoved to the Upper House by succession to an ancient bar- ony [Lord La Despencer, formerly Sir Francis Dashwood]. He told me he did not like a Ger- man war. I honored the man for it, and was sorry when he was turned out of his post. A great deal has been said without doors of the power, of the strength of America. It is a topic that ought to be cautiously meddled with. In a good cause, on a sound bottom, the force of this country can crush America to atoms. I know the valor of your troops. I krxow the skill of your officers. There is not a company of foot that has seiwed in America, out of which you may not pick a man of sufficient knowledge and experience to make a governor of a colony there. But on this ground, on the Stamp Act, which so many here will think a crying injustice, I am one who will lift up my hands against it. In such a cause, your success would be haz- ardous. America, if she fell, would fall like the strong man ; she would embrace the pillars of the state, and pull down the Constitution along with her. Is this your boasted peace — not to sheathe the sword in its scabbard, but to sheathe it in the bowels of your countrymen ? Will you quarrel with yourselves, now the whole house of Bourbon is united against you ; while France disturbs your fisheries in Newfoundland, embar- rasses your slave trade to Africa, and withholds from your subjects in Canada their pi'operty stipulated by treaty ; while the ransom for the ]\Ianillas is denied by Spain, and its gallant con- queror basely traduced into a mean plunderer ! a gentleman (Colonel Draper) whose noble and generous spirit would do honor to the proudest grandee of the country ? The Americans have not acted in all things with prudence and tem- per : they have been wronged ; they have been driven to madness by injustice. Will you pun- ish them for the madness you have occasioned ? Rather let prudence and temper come first from this side. I will undertake for America that she will follow the example. There are two lines in a ballad of Prior's, of a man's behavior to his wife, so applicable to you and your colo- nies, that I can not help repeating them : "Be to her faults a little blind ; Be to her virtues very kind." Upon the whole, I will beg leave to tell the House what is my opinion. It is, that the Stamp Act be repealed absolutely, totally, and immedi- resisted the disposition of George II. to engage in wars on the Continent. But when things had whol- ly changed, when England had united with Prussia to repress the ambition of Austria sustained by France and Russia, he did carry on " a German war," though not one of his own commencing. And he was always ready to meet the question. He challenged discussion. He called out, "Has any body objections to the German war?" Probably Mr. Pitt here alludes to an incident already refer- red to, page 62, when, putting himself in an attitude of defiance, he exclaimed, " Is there an Austrian among j-ou ? Let him come forward and reveal himself!" 108 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. ately. That the reason for the repeal be assign- ed, viz., because it was founded on an erroneous principle. At the same time, let the sovereign authority of this country over the colonies be as- serted in as strong terms as can be devised, and be made to extend to every point of legislation whatsoever ; that we may bind their trade, con- fine their manufactures, and exercise every power whatsoever, except that of taking their money out of their pockets without their consent. whatsoever !'^ Lord Camden, when the Declar- atory Act came into the House of Lords, took the same ground with Mr. Pitt in the House of Commons. "My position," said he, "is this — I repeat it — I will maintain it to the last hour : Taxation and representation are inseparable. This position is founded on the laws of nature. It is more ; it is in itself an eternal law of na- ture. For whatever is a man's own is abso- lutely his own. No man has a right to take it from him without his consent, either expressed by himself or his representative. Whoever at- The motion for the address received the ap- tempts to do this, attempts an injury. Whoever probation of all. About a month after, February does it, commits a robbery. He throws down 26th, 1766, a bill was introduced repealing the and destroys the distinction between liberty and Stamp Act ; but, instead of following Mr. Pitt's slavery.'' Other counsels, however, prevailed, advice, and abandoning all claim to the right of The Stamp Act was repealed, but the Declara- taxing the colonies, a Declaratory Act was in- tory Act was passed ; its principles were carried troduced, asserting the authority of the King and j out by Charles Townsend the very next year, by Parliament to make laws which should " bind imposing new taxes ; and the consequences are the colonies and people of America in all cases \ before the world. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM IN REPLY TO LORD MANSFIELD, IN RELATION TO THE CASE OF JOHN WILKES, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, JANUARY 9, 1770. INTRODUCTION. This was the first appearance of Lord Chatham in the House of Lords after his illness in 1767. The Duke of G-rafton, his former friend and ally, was now minister, and had come out a virtual Tory. The case of John Wilkes agitated the whole kingdom. He had been expelled from the House of Commons for a " seditious hbel," in February, 1769, and a new writ was issued for the election of a member from Middlesex. Wilkes was almost unanimously re-elected, and the House of Commons resolved, on the day after his election, that he was incapable of being chosen to that Parliament. Another election was there- fore held; he was again chosen, and his election again declared void. A third was ordered, and the min- istry now determined to contest it to the utmost. They prevailed upon Colonel Luttrell, son of Lord Irn- ham, to vacate his seat in the House, and become their candidate ; but, with all their influence and bribery, they could obtain only 296 votes, while Wilkes numbered 1143. The latter, of course, was again returned as a member; but the House passed a resolution directing the clerk of the Crown to amend the return, by erasing the name of Mr. Wilkes and inserting that of Colonel Luttrell, who accordingly took his seat, m April, 1769. There is, at the present day, no difference of opinion as to these pi'oceedings. "All mankind are agreed," says Lord Campbell, in his Lives of the Chancellors, "that the House of Commons acted illegally and un- constitutionally in expelling ^|r. Wilkes for a supposed offense, committed before his re-election, and in seating Mr. Luttrell as representative for Middlesex." With Mr. Wilkes as an individual. Lord Chatham had no connection, either personal or political. He had, on the contrary, expressed his detestation of liis character and principles, some years before, in the presence of Parliament. But he felt that one of the greatest questions had now arisen which M'as ever agitated in England, and that the House of Lords ought to enter their protest against this flagrant breach of the Constitution. He, perhaps, considered him- self the more bound to come forward, because in his late ministiy he had given the Duke of Grafton the place which he now held of First Lord of the Treasury, and had thus opened the way for the advance- ment of his grace to the station of Prime Minister. At all events, he determined, on the first day of his appearance in Parliament after his late ministry, to express his disapprobation of two measures whirh had been adopted by his former colleagues, viz., the taxation of America, and the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes. When, therefore, an address to the Throne was moved, January 9th, 1770, he came forward on both these subjects in one of his most celebrated speeches, but which, unfortunately, is very imperfectly preserved. He commenced with great impressiveness of manner : " At my advanced period of life, my Lords, bow- ing under the weight of my infirmities, I might, perhaps, have stood excused if I had continued in my re- tirement, and never taken part again in public affairs. But the alarming state of the country calls upon me to execute the duty which I owe to my God, my sovereign, and my country." He then took a rapid view of the external and internal state of the country. He lamented the measures which had alienated the colonies, and driven them to such excesses. But he still insisted that they should be treated with ten- 1770.] CASE OF JOHN WILKES. 109 derness. "These excesses," he said, " are the mere eruptions of liberty, which break out upon the skin, and are a sign, if not of perfect health, at least of a vigorous constitution, and must not be repelled too suddenly, lest they should strike to the heart." He then passed to the case of Mr. Wilkes, and the prevailing discontent thi-oughout the kingdom, in consequence of his expulsion from the House of Commons. The privileges of the House of Peers, he said, however transcendent, stood on the same broad bottom as the rights of the people. It was, therefore, their highest interest, as well as their dutj', to watch over and protect the people ; for when the people had lost their rights, the peerage would soon become insignificant. He referred, as an illustration, to the case of Spain, where the grandees, from neglecting and slighting the rights of the people, had been enslaved themselves. He concluded with the following remarkable passage : " My Lords, let this example be a lesson to us all. Let us be cautious how we admit an idea, that our rights stand on a footing different from those of the people. Let us be cautious how we invade the liberties of our fellow-subjects, however mean, however remote. For be assured, my Lords, in whatever part of the empire you suffer slaveiy to be es- tablished, whether it be in America, or in Ireland, or here at home, you will find it a disease which spreads by contact, and soon reaches from tlie extremities to the heart. The man who has lost his own freedom, becomes, from that moment, an instrument in the hands of an ambitious prince to destroy the freedom of others. These reflections, my Loi-ds, are but too applicable to our present situation. The liberty of the subject is invaded, not only in the provinces, but here at home ! The English people are loud in their com- plaints ; they demand redress ; and, depend upon it, my Lords, that, one way or another, they will have redress. They will never return to a state of tranquillity till they are redressed. Nor ought they. For in my judgment, my Lords, and I speak it boldly, it were better for them to perish in a glorious contention for their rights, than to purchase a slavish tranquillity at the expense of a single iota of the Constitution. Let me entreat your Lordships, then, by all the duties which you owe to your sovereign, to the country, and to yourselves, to perform the office to which you are called by the Constitution, by informing his Maj- esty truly of the condition of his subjects, and the real cause of their dissatisfaction." With this view, Lord Chatham concluded his speech by moving an amendment to the address, "That we will, with all convenient speed, take into our most serious consideration the causes of the discontents which prevail in so many parts of your Majesty's dominions, and particularly the late proceedings of the House of Commons touching the incapacity of John Wilkes, Esq., expelled by that House, to be re-elected a member to serve in the present Parliament, thereby refusing, by a resolution of one branch of the Leg- islature only, to the subject his common right, and depriving the electors of Middlesex of their free choice of a representative." This amendment was powerfully resisted by Lord Mansfield. Nothing remains, however, of his speech, except a meager account of the general course of his argument. He contended " that the amendment vio- lated eveiy form and usage of Parliament, and was a gross attack on the privileges of the House of Com- mons. That there never was an instance of the Lords inquiring into the proceedings of that House with respect to their own nfembers, much less of their taking upon themselves to censure such proceedings, or of their advising the Crown to take notice of them. ' If, indeed, it be the purpose of the amendment to provoke a quarrel with the House of Commons, I confess,' said his Lordship, ' it will have that effect cer- tainly and immediately. The Lower House will undoubtedly assert their privileges, and give you vote for vote. I leave it, therefore, to your Lordships, to consider the fatal effects which, in such a conjuncture as the present, may arise from an open breach between the two houses of Parliament." Lord Chatham immediately arose and delivered the following speech in reply. SPEECH, &c.^ INTy Lords, — There is one plain maxim, to which I have invariably adhered through life : that in every question in which my liberty or my property were concerned, I should consult and he. determined by the dictates of common sense. I confess, my Lords, that I am apt to distrust the refinements of learninir, becau.se I have seen the ablest and the most learned men equally lia- ble to deceive themselves and to mislead others. The condition of human nature would be lam- entable indeed, if nothing less than the greatest learning and talents, which fall to the share of ^ This is the best reported and most eloquent speech of Lord Chatham, except that of November 18th, 1777. It was published at the time from man- uscript notes taken by an unknown individual, who is uovv ascertained with almost absolute certainty to have been the celebrated Sir Philip Francis, con- sidered by so many as the author of Juuias's Letters. so small a number of men, were sufficient to di- rect our judgment and our conduct. But Prov- idence has taken better care of our happiness, and given us, in the simplicity of common sense, a rule for our direction, by which we can never be misled. I confess, my Lords, I had no other guide in drawing up the amendment which I submitted to your consideration ; and, before I heard the opinion of the noble Lord who spoke last, I did not conceive that it was even within the limits of possibility for the greatest human genius, the most subtle understanding, or the acutest wit, so strangely to misrepresent my meaning, and to give it an interpretation so en- tirely foreign from what I intended to express, and from that sense which the very terms of the amendment ))lainly and distinctly carry with them. If there be the smallest foundation for the censure thrown upon me by that noble Lord ; 110 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. if, either expressl}^ or by the most distant im- plication, I have said or insinuated any part of what the noble Lord has charged me with, dis- card my opinions forever, discard the motion with contempt. My Lords, I must beg the indulgence of the House. Neither will my health permit me, nor do I pretend to be qualified to follow that learn- ed Lord minutely through the whole of his argu- ment. No man is better acquainted with his abilities and learning, nor has a greater respect for them than I have. I have had the pleasure of sitting with him in the other House, and al- ways listened to him with attention. I have not now lost a word of what he said, nor did I ever. Lf^pon the present question I meet him without fear. The evidence which truth carries with it is supei'ior to all argument : it neither wants the support, nor dreads the opposition of the great- est abilities. If there be a single word in the amendment to justify the interpretation wiiich the noble Lord has been pleased to give it, I am ready to renounce the whole. Let it be read, my Lords ; let it speak for itself. [It was read.] In what instance does it interfere with the priv- ileges of the House of Commons ? In what re- spect does it question their jurisdiction, or sup- pose an authority in this House to arraign the justice of their sentence ? I am sure that every Loi'd who hears me will bear me witness, that I said not one word touching the merits of the IMiddlesex election. So far from conveying any opinion upon that matter in the amendment, I did not even in discourse deliver my own senti- ments upon it. I did not say that the House of Commons had done either right or wrong ; but, when his INIajesty was pleased to recommend it to us to cultivate unanimity among ourselves, I thought it the duty of this House, as the great hereditary council of the Crown, to state to his JMajesty the distracted condition of his dominions, together with the events which had destroyed unanimity among his subjects. But. my Lords, I stated events merely as facts, without the smallest addition either of censure or of opinion. They are facts, my Lords, which I am not only convinced are true, but which I know are indis- putably true. For example, my Lords : will any man deny that discontents pi-evail in many parts of his Majesty's dominions ? or that those dis- contents arise from the proceedings of the House of Commons touching the declared incapacity of Mr. Wilkes ? It is impossible. No man can deny a truth so notorious. Or will any man deny that those proceedings refused, by a reso- lution of one branch of the Legislature onh% to the subject his common right ? Is it not indis- putably true, my Lords, that Mr. Wilkes had a common right, and that he lost it no other way but by a resolution of the House of Commons? My Lords, I have been tender of misrepresent- ing the House of Commons. I have consulted their journals, and have taken the very words of their own resolution. Do they not tell us in so m;iny words, that Mr. Wilkes having been ex- pelled, was thereby rendered incapable of serv- ing in that Parliament ? And is it not their res- olution alone which refuses to the subject his common right? The amendment sa\-s farther, that the electors of Middlesex are deprived of their free choice of a representative. Is this a false fact, my Lords ? Or have I given an un- fair representation of it? Will any man pre- sume to affirm that Colonel Luttrell is the free choice of the electors of Middlesex ? We all know the contrary. We all know that Mr. Wilkes (whom I mention without either praise or censure) was the favorite of the county, and chosen by a very great and acknowledged ma- jority to represent them in Parliament. If the noble Lord dislikes the manner in which these facts are stated, T shall think myself happy in being advised by him how to alter it. I am very little anxious about terms, provided the sub- stance be preserved ; and these are facts, my Lords, which I am sure will always retain their weight and importance, in whatever form of lan- guage they are described. Now, my Lords, since I have been forced to enter into the explanation of an amendment, in which nothing less than the genius of penetra- tion could have discovered an obscurity, and hav- ing, as I hope, redeemed myself in the opinion of the House, having redeemed my motion from the severe representation given of it by the noble Lord. I must a little longer entreat your Lord- ships' indulgence. The Constitution of this coun- try has been openly invaded in fact ; and I have heard, with horror and astonishment, that very invasion defended upon principle. What is this mysterious power, undefined by law, unknown to the subject, which we must not approach without awe, nor speak of without reverence — which no man may question, and to which all men must submit? JNIy Lords, I thought the slavish doctrine of passive obedience had long since been exploded : and, when our Kings were obliged to confess that their title to the Crown, and the rule of their government, had no other foundation than the known laws of the land. I never expected to hear a divine right, or a di- vine infallibility, attributed to any other branch of the Legislature. My Lords, I beg to be un- derstood. No man respects the House of Com- mons more than I do, or would contend more strenuously than I would to preserve to them their just and legal authority. Within the bounds prescribed by the Constitution, that authority is necessar}' to the well-being of the people. Be- yond that line, every exertion of power is arbi- trary, is illegal ; it threatens tyranny to the peo- ple, and destruction to the state. Power with- out right is the most odious and detestable object that can be offered to the human imagination. It is not only pernicious to those who are sub- ject to it, but tends to its own destruction. It is what my noble friend [Lord Lyttleton] has truly described it, " Res detestabilis et caduca."'^ JNIy Lords, I acknowledge the just power, and reverence the constitution of the House of Com- 2 A thioLT hateful, and destined to destruction. 1770.] CASE OF JOHN WILKES. Ill mons. It is for their own sakes that I would prevent their assuming a power which the Con- stitution has denied them, lest, by grasping at an authority they have no right to, they should forfeit that which they legally possess. My Lords, I aflirm that they have betrayed their constituents, and violated the Constitution. Un- der pretense of declaring the law, they have made a law, and united in the same persons the office of legislator and of judge! I shall endeavor to adhere strictly to the no- ble Lord's doctrine, which is, indeed, impossible to mistake, so far as my memory will permit me to preserve his expressions. He seems fond of the word jurisdiction ; and I confess, with the force and eflect which he has given it, it is a word of copious meaning and wonderful extent. If his Lordship's doctrine be well founded, we must renounce all those political maxims by which our undei'standings have hitherto been directed, and even the first elements of learning taught in our schools when we were schoolboys. My Lords, we knew that jurisdiction was noth- ing more than "jus dicere." We knew that " le- gem faccre^^ and ^^ legem dicere''^ [to make law and to declare it] were powers clearly distin- guished from each other in the nature of things, and wisely separated by the wisdom of the En- glish Constitution. But now, it seems, we must adopt a new system of thinking ! The House of Commons, we are told, have a supreme juris- diction, and there is no appeal from their sen- tence ; and that wherever they are competent judges, their decision must be received and sub- mitted to, as ipso facto, the law of the land. My Lords, I am a plain man, and have been brought up in a religious reverence for the original sim- plicity of the laws of England. By what soph- istry they have been perverted, by what artifices they have been involved in obscurity, is not for me to explain. The principles, however, of the English laws are still sufficiently clear ; they are founded in reason, and are the masterpiece of the human understanding ; but it is in the text that I would look for a direction to my judgment, not in the commentaries of modern professors. The noble Lord assures us that he knows not in what code the law of Parliament is to be found ; that the House of Commons, when they act as judges, have no law to direct them but their own wisdom ; that their decision is law ; and if they determine wrong, the subject has no appeal but to Heaven, What then, my Lords ? Are all the generous efforts of our ancestoi's, are all those glorious contentions, by which they meant to secure to themselves, and to transmit to their posterit}^, a known law, a certain rule of living, reduced to this conclusion, that instead of the arbitrary power of a King, we must submit to the arbitrary power of a House of Commons ? If this be true, what benefit do we derive from the exchange ? Tyranny, my Lords, is detest- able in every shape, but in none so formidable as when it is assumed and exercised by a number of tyrants. But, my Lords, this is not the fact ; this is not the Constitution. We have a law of Parliament. We have a code in which every hon- est man may find it. We have JNIagna ChartaT We have the Statute Book, and the Bill of Riorhts. If a case should arise unknown to these great authorities, we have still that plain English rea- son left, which is the foundation of all our En- glish jurisprudence. That reason tells us, that every judicial court, and every political society, must be vested with those powers and privileges which are necessary for performing the office to which they are appointed. It tells us, also, that no court of justice can have a power inconsistent with, or paramount to the known laws of the land ; that the people, when they choose their representatives, never mean to convey to them a power of invading the rights, or trampling on the liberties of those whom they represent. What security would they have for their rights, if once they admitted that a court of judicature might determine every question that came be- fore it, not by any known positive law, but by the vague, indeterminate, arbitrary rule of what the noble Lord is pleased to call the wisdom of the court ? With respect to the decision of the courts of justice, I am far from denying them their due weight and authority ; yet, placing them in the most respectable view, I still consider them, not as law, but as an evidence of the law. And before they can arrive even at that degree of authority, it must appear that they are found- ed in and confirmed by reason ; that they are supported by precedents taken from good and moderate times ; that they do not contradict any positive law; that they are submitted to with- out reluctance by the people ; that they are un- questioned by the Legislature (which is equiva- lent to a tacit confirmation) ; and what, in my judgment, is by far the most important, that they do not violate the spirit of the Constitution. ]\Iy Lords, this is not a vague or loose expression. We all know what the Constitution is. We all know that the first principle of it is, that tlie subject shall not be governed by the arbitrium of any one man or body of men (less than the whole Legislatui-e), but by certain laws, to which he has virtually given his consent, which are open to him to examine, and not beyond his abil- ity to understand. Now, my Lords, I affirm, and am ready to maintain, that the late decision of the House of Commons upon the Middlesex elec- tion is destitute of every one of those pro|ierties and conditions which I hold to be essential to the legality of such a decision. (1.) It is not founded in reason ; for it carries with it a con- tradiction, that the I'epresentative should per- form the office of the constituent body. (2.) It is not supported by a single precedent ; for the case of Sir Robert Walpole is but a half prece- dent, and even that half is imperfect. Incapac- ity was indeed declared, but his crimes are stated as the ground of the resolution, and his opponent was declared to be not duly elected, even after his incapacity was established. (3.) It contra- dicts Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights, by which it is provided, that no subject shall be de- prived of his freehold, unless by the judgment of 112 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. his peers, or the law of the land ; and that elec- tions of members to serve in Parliament shall be free. (4.) So far is this decision from being submitted to by the people, that they have taken the strongest measures, and adopted the most positive language, to express their discontent. Whether it will be questioned by the Legisla- ture, will depend upon your Lordships' resolu- tion ; but that it violates the spirit of the Con- stitution, will, I think, be disputed by no man who has heard this day's debate, and who wishes well to the freedom of his country. Yet, if we are to believe the noble Lord, this great griev- ance, this manifest violation of the first princi- ples of the Constitution, will not admit of a rem- edy. It is not even capable of redress, unless we appeal at once to Heaven ! My Lords, I have better hopes of the Constitution, and a firmer confidence in the wisdom and constitu- tional authority of this House. It is to your an- cestors, my Lords, it is to the English barons, that we are indebted for the laws and Constitu- tion we possess. Their virtues were rude and uncultivated, but they were great and sincere. Their undei-standings were as little polished as their manners, but they had hearts to distinguish right from wrong ; they had heads to distinguish truth from falsehood ; they understood the rights of humanity, and they had spirit to maintain them. My Lords, I think that history has not done justice to their conduct, when they obtained from their sovereign that great acknowledgment of na- tional rights contained in Magna Charta : they did not confine it to themselves alone, but deliv- ered it as a common blessing to the whole people. They did not say, these are the rights of the great barons, or these are the rights of the great prelates. No, my Lords, they said, in the simple Latin of the times, " nullus liber homo" [no free man], and provided as carefully for the meanest subject as for the greatest. These are uncouth words, and sound but poorly in the ears of schol- ars; neither are they addressed to the criticism of scholars, but to the hearts of free men. These three words, " nullus liber homo," have a mean- ing which interests us all. They deserve to be remembered — they deserve to be inculcated in our minds — they are worth all the classics. Let us not, then, degenerate from the glorious exam- ple of our ancestors. Those iron barons (for so I may call them when compared with the silken barons of modern days) were the guardians of the people ; yet their virtues, my Lords, were never engaged in a question of such importance as the present. A breach has been made in the Constitution — the battlements are dismantled — the citadel is open to the first invader — the walls totter — the Constitution is not tenable. What remains, then, but for us to stand foremost in the breach, and repair it, or perish in it ? Great pains have been taken to alarm us with the consequences of a diflerence between the two houses of Parliament ; that the House of Commons will resent our presuming to take no- tice of their proceedings ; that they will resent our daring to advise the Crown, and never for- give us for attempting to save the state. My Lords, I am sensible of the importance and difll- culty of this great crisis : at a mompnt such as this, we are called upon to do our duty, without dreading the resentment of any man. But if ap- prehensions of this kind are to affect us, let us consider which we ought to respect most, the representative or the collective body of the peo- ple. My Lords, five hundred gentlemen are not ten millions ; and if we must have a contention, let us take care to have the English nation on our side. If this question be given up, the free- holders of England are reduced to a condition baser than the peasantry of Poland. If they de- sert their own cause, they deserve to be slaves ! My Lords, this is not merely the cold opinion of my understanding, but the glowing expression of what I feel. It is my heart that speaks. I know I speak warmly, my Lords ; but this warmth shall neither betray my argument nor my temper. The kingdom is in a flame. As mediators between the King and people, it is our duty to represent to him the true condition and temper of his subjects. It is a duty which no particular respects should hinder us from per- forming ; and whenever his Majesty shall de- mand our advice, it will then be our duty to in- quire more minutely into the causes of the pres- ent discontents. Whenever that inquiry shall come on, I pledge myself to the House to prove that, since the first institution of the House of Commons, not a single precedent can be pro- duced to justify their late proceedings. My no- ble and learned friend (the Lord Chancellor Camden) has pledged himself to the House that he will support that assertion. My Lords, the character and circumstances of Mr. Wilkes have been very improperly intro- duced into this question, not only here, but in that court of judicature where his cause was tried — I mean the House of Commons. With one party he was a patriot of the first magni- tude ; with the other, the vilest incendiary. For my own part, I consider him merely and indif- ferently as an English subject, possessed of cer- tain rights which the laws have given him, and which the laws alone can take from him. I am neither moved by his private vices nor by his public merits. In his person, though he Vk'ere the worst of men, I contend for the safety and se- curity of the best. God forbid, my Lords, that there should be a power in this country of meas- uring the civil rights of the subject by his moral character, or by any other rule but the fixed laws of the land ! I believe, my Lords, / shall not be suspected of any personal partiality to this unhappy man. I am not very conversant in pamphlets or newspapers ; but, from what I have heard, and from the little I have read, I may venture to affirm, that I have had my share in the compliments which have come from that quarter.^ As for motives of ambition (for I must 3 Lord Chatham here refers, among others, to Ju- nius, who had attacked him about a year before in his first letter. At a later period Junius changed 1770] CASE OF JOHN WILKES. 113 take to myself a part of the noble Duke's insin- uation), I believe, my Lords, there have been times in which I have had the honor of standing in such favor in the closet, that there must have been something extravagantly mireasonable in my wishes if they might not all have been grat- ified. After neglecting those opportunities, I am now suspected of coming forward, in the decline of life, in the anxious pursuit of wealth and pow- er which it is impossible for me to enjoy. Be it so ! There is one ambition, at least, which I ever will acknowledge, which I will not renounce but with my life. It is the ambition of delivering to my posterity those rights of freedom which I have received from my ancestors. I am not now pleading the cause of an individual, but of every freeholder in England. In what manner this House may constitutionally interpose in their de- fense, and what kind of redress this case will re- quire and admit of, is not at present the subject of our consideration. The amendment, if agreed to, will naturally lead us to such an inquiry. That inquiry may, perhaps, point out the neces- sity of an act of the Legislature, or it may lead us, perhap.s, to desire a conference with the other House ; which one noble Lord affirms is the only parliamentary way of proceeding, and which an- other noble Lord assures us the House of Com- mons would either not come to, or would break off with indignation. Leaving their Lordships to reconcile that matter between themselves, I shall only say, that before we have inquired, we can not be provided with materials ; consequent- ly, we are not at present prepared for a confer- ence. It is not impossible, my Lords, that the in- quiry I speak of may lead us to advise his Maj- esty to dissolve the present Parliament ; nor have I any doubt of our right to give that advice, if we should think it necessary. His Majesty will then determine whether he will yield to the unit- ed petitions of the people of England, or main- tain the House of Commons in the exercise of a legislative power, which heretofore abolished the House of Lords, and overturned the monarchy. I willingly acquit the pi-esent House of Com- mons of having actually formed so detestable a design ; but they can not themselves foresee to what excesses they may be carried hereafter ; and, for my own part, I should be sorry to trust to their future moderation. Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it; and this I know, my Lords, that where law cnds^ tyranny begins ! Lord Chatham's motion was rejected ; but he was sustained in his views by Lord Camden, who was still Lord Chancellor, and of course a leading member of the Grafton ministry. He came down from the woolsack, and broke forth in the following indignant terms : " I accepted the great seal without conditions ; I meant not, therefore, to be trammeled by his Majesty'* — I his ground, and published his celebrated eulogiura on Lord Chatham. * This hasty expre.ssion shows, what has since H beg pardon, by his n.inisters — but I have suf- fered myself to be so too long. For some time I have beheld with silent indignation the arbi- trary measures of the minister. I have often drooped and hung down my head in council, and disapproved by my looks those steps which I knew my avowed opposition could not prevent. I will do so no longer, but openly and boldly speak my sentiments. I now proclaim to the world that I entirely coincide in the opinion ex- pressed by my noble friend — whose presence again reanimates us — respecting this unconsti- tutional vote of the House of Commons. If, in giving my opinion as a judge, I were to pay any respect to that vote, I should look upon myself as a traitor to my trust, and an enemy to my country. By their violent and tyrannical con- duct, ministers have alienated the minds of the people from his Majesty's government — I had almost said from his Majesty's person — inso- much, that if some measures are not devised to appease the clamors so universally prevalent, I know not, my Lords, whether the people, in de- spair, may not become their own avengers, and take the redress of grievances into their own hands." After such a speech. Lord Camden could not, of course, expect to hold office. He was instantly dismissed. It was a moment of extreme excitement. Lord Shelburne went so far as to say in the House, " After the dismis- sion of the present worthy Lord Chancellor, the seals will go begging ; but I hope there will not be found in this kingdom a wretch so base and mean-spirited as to accept them on the condi- tions on which they must be offered." This speech of Lord Chatham decided the fate of the Duke of Grafton. The moment a leader was found to unite the different sections of the Oppo- sition, the attack was too severe for him to re- sist. The next speech will show the manner in which he was driven from power. Lord Mansfield had a difficult part to act on this occasion. He could not but have known that the expulsion of Wilkes was illegal ; and this is obvious from the fact that he did not at- tempt to defend it. He declared that, on this point, " he had never given his opinion, he would not now give it, and he did not know but he might carry it to the grave with him." All he contended was, that " if the Commons had pass- ed an unjustifiable vote, it was a matter between God and their own consciences, and that nobody else had any thing to do with it." Lord Chat- ham rose a second time, and replied, " It plain- ly appears, from what the noble Lord has said, that he concurs in sentiment with the Opposi- tion ; for, if he had concurred with the ministry, he would no doubt have avowed his opinion — that it now equally behooves him to avow it in behalf of the people. He ought to do so as an honest man, an independent man, as a man of been more fully known, that the King dictated the measures against W^ likes. He entered with all the feelings of a personal enemy into the plan of expel- ling him from the House, and was at last beaten by the determination of his own subjects. 14 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. courage and resolution. To say, that if the House of Commons has passed an unjustifiable vote, it is a matter between God and their own consciences, and that nobody else has any thing to do with it, is such a strange assertion as I have never before heard, and involves a doc- trine subversive of the Constitution. What ! If the House of Commons should pass a vote abolishing this House, and surrendering to the Crown all the rights and interests of the people, would it be only a matter between them and their conscience, and would nobody have any thinjr to do with it ? You would have to do with it ! / should have to do with it ! Every man in the kingdom would have to do with it ! Every man wou'd have a right to insist on the repeal ' of such a treasonable vote, and to bring the au- thors of it to condign punishment. I would, therefore, call on the noble Lord to declare his I opinion, unless he would lie under the imputation I 0^ being conscious oj" the illegality of the vote, and ^ yet of being restrained by some unworthy mo- tive from avowing it to the world." Lord Mans- field replied not^ — Gentleman's Magazine for j January, 1770. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION OF LORD ROCKINGHAM TO INQUIRE INTO THE STATE OF THE NATION, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, JANUARY 22, 1770. INTRODUCTION. The preceding speech of Lord Chatham, in connection with the decisive step taken by Lord Cainden, threw the Duke of Grafton and his ministry into the utmost confusion ; and an adjournment of a week was resorted to, for the purpose of making new arrangements. During this time, the Marquess of Granby de- serted the administration, apologizing for the vote he bad given for seating Colonel Luttrell in the House, and deploring it as the greatest misfortune of his life. He resigned all his places, except his commission as Colonel. Mr. Gi-enville, Mr. Dunning, the Dukes of Beaufort and Manchester, the Earls of Coventry and Huntington, and a number of others, followed his example. A reconciliation took place between Lord Chatham and Lord Rockingham, and the Opposition was completely organized under their guidance. It was decided to follow up the blow at once, by a motion from Lord Rockingham for an " inquiry into the state of the nation," which allows the utmost latitude for examining into the conduct of a minister. Ac- cordingly, Lord Rockingham moved such an inquiry, almost immediately after the Lords again met. In supporting this motion, he maintained, that the existing discontents did not spring from any immediate temporary cause, but from a maxim which had grown up by degi-ees from the accession of George III., viz., " that the royal prerogative was sufficient to support the government, whatever might be the hands to which the administration was committed."^ He exposed this Tory principle as fatal to the liberties of the people. The Duke of Grafton followed in a few explanatory remarks; and Lord Chatham then de- livered the following speech, which contains some passages of remarkable boldness and even vehemence. SPEECH, &c.' My Lords, — I meant to have arisen imme- diately to second the motion made by the noble Lord [Rockingham]. The charge which the noble Duke [Grafton] seemed to think afTected himself particularly, did undoubtedly demand an early answer. It was proper he should speak before me, and I am as ready as any man to ap- plaud the decency and propriety with which he has expressed himself. I entirely agree with the noble Lord, both in the necessity of your Lordships' concurring with the motion, and in the principles and arguments by which he has very judiciously supported it. 1 see clearly that the complexion of our govern- ment has been materially altered ; and I can trace the origin of the alteration up to a period 1 This is the topic so powerfully discussed in Mr. Burke's pamphlet, entitled, "Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents," one of the most inge- nious and able productions of that great writer. 2 This speech, like the last, was reported at the time by a gentleman, who is now ascertained to have been Sir Philip Francis. which ought to have been an era of happiness and prosperity to this country.^ My Lords, I shall give you my reasons for concurring with the motion, not methodically, but as they occur to my mind. I may wander, perhaps, from the exact parliamentary debate, but I hope I shall say nothing but what may de- serve your attention, and what, if not strictly proper at present, would be fit to be said when the state of the nation shall come to be consid- ered. My uncertain state of health must plead my excuse. I am now in some pain, and very probably may not be able to attend to my duty when I desire it most, in this House. I thank 3 When George III. came to the throne, England was in the midst of that splendid career of victories by which Lord Chatham humbled the enemies of his country, and established her power in every quarter of the globe. The peace which was made two years after, under the influence of Lord Bute, was generally considered a disgrace to the nation, and from that time dissatisfaction began to prevail in all classes of society. 1770.] STATE OF THE NATION. 115 God, my Lords, for having thus long preserved *^o inconsiderable a being as I am, to take a part upon this great occasion, and to contribute my endeavors, such as they are, to restore, to save, to confirm the Constitution. My Lords, I need not look abroad for griev- ances. The grand capital mischief is fixed at home. It corrupts the very foundation of our political existence, and preys upon the vitals of the state. The Constitution has been grossly violated. The Constitution at this moment stands violated. Until that wound be healed, until the grievance be redressed, it is in vain to recom- mend union to Parliament, in vain to promote concord among the people. If we mean seri- ously to unite the nation within itself, we must convince them that their complaints are regard- ed, that their injuries shall be redressed. On that foundation I would take the lead in recom- mending peace and harmony to the people. On any other, I would never wish to see them united again. If the breach in the Constitution be effect- ually repaired, the people will of themselves re- turn to a state of tranquillity ; if not, may dis- cord prevail forever. I know to what point this doctrine and this language will appear directed. But I feel the principles of an Englishman, and I utter them without apprehension or reserve. The crisis is indeed alarming. So much the more does it require a prudent relaxation on the part of government. If the King's servants will not permit a constitutional question to be decided on according to the forms and on the principles of the Constitution, it must then be decided in some other manner ; and, rather than it should be given up, rather than the nation should sur- render their birthright to a despotic minister, I hope, my Lords, old as I am, I shall see the question brought to issue, and fairly tried be- tween the people and the government. My Lord, this is not the language of faction. Let it be tried by that criterion by which alone we can distinguish what is factious from what is not — by the principles of the English Constitu- tion. I have been bred up in these principles, and know, that when the liberty of the subject is invaded, and all redx-ess denied him, resistance is justified. If I had a doubt upon the matter, I should follow the example set us by the most reverend bench, with whom I believe it is a maxim, when any doubt in point of faith arises, or any question of controversy is started, to ap- peal at once to the greatest source and evidence of our religion — I mean the Holy Bible. The Constitution has its Political Bible, by which, if it be fairly consulted, every political question may, and ought to be determined. Magna Charta, the Petition of Rights, and the Bill of Rights, form that code which I call the Bible of the English Constitution. Had some of his Maj- esty's unhappy predecessors trusted less to the comments of their ministers ; had they been bet- ter read in the text itself, the glorious revolution would have remained only possible in theory, and would not now have existed upon record a for- midable example to their successors. My Lords, I can not agree with the noble Duke, that nothing less than an immediate attack upon the honor or interest of this nation can au- thorize us to interpose in defense of weaker states, and in stopping the enterprises of an ambitious neighbor.^ Whenever that narrow, .selfish pol- icy has prevailed in our councils, we have con- stantly experienced the fatal effects of it. By suffering our natural enemies to oppress the powers less able than we are to make resist- ance, we have pei'mitted them to increase their strength, we have lost the most favorable oppor- tunities of opposing them with success, and found ourselves at last obliged to run every hazard in making that cause our own, in which we were not wise enough to take part while the expense and danger might have been supported by oth- ers. With respect to Corsica, I shall only say, that France has obtained a more useful and im- portant acquisition in one pacific campaign than in any of her belligerent campaigns — at least u^hile I had the honor of administering war against her. The word may, perhaps, be thought singular. I mean only while I was the minis- ter chiefly intrusted with the conduct of the war. I remember, my Lords, the time when Lorraine was united to the crown of France. That, too, was in some measure a pacific conquest : and there were people who talked of it as the noble Duke now speaks of Corsica. France was per- mitted to take and keep possession of a noble province ; and, according to his grace's ideas, we did right in not opposing it. The effect of these acquisitions -s, I confess, not immediate ; but they unite with the main body by degrees, and, in time, make a part of the national strength. I fear, my Lords, it is too much the temper of this country to be insensible of the approach of danger, until it comes with accumulated terror upon us. My Lords, the condition of his Majesty's af- fairs in Ireland, and the state of that kingdom within itself, will undoubtedly make a very ma- terial part of your Lordship's inquiry. I am not sufficiently informed to enter into the subject so fully as I could wish ; but by what appears to the public, and from my own observation, I con- fess I can not give the ministry much credit for the spirit or prudence of their conduct. I see that even where their mea.sures are well chosen, they are incapable of carrying them through without some unhappy mixture of weakness or imprudence. They are incapable of doing en- tirely right. My Lords, I do, from my con- science, and from the best weighed principles of my understanding, applaud the augmentation of the army. As a military plan, I believe it has been judiciously arranged. In a political * In the year 1768, France, under pretense of a transfer from the Genoese (who claimed the island), had seized upon Corsica. General Paoli made a brave resistance, but was overpowered, and fled to England, where his presence excited a lively inter- est in the oppressed Corsicans. Lord Chatham maintained that France ought to have been resist- ed in this shameful act of aggression. 116 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. view, I am convinced it was for the welfai'e, for the safety of the whole empire. But, my Lords, with all these advantages, with all these recom- mendations, if I had the honor of advising his Majesty, I never would have consented to his accepting the augmentation, with that absurd, dishonorable condition which the ministry have submitted to annex to it.^ My Lords, I revere the just prerogative of the Crown, and would contend for it as warmly as for the rights of the people. They are linked together, and natu- rally support each other. I w^ould not touch a feather of the prerogative. The expression, per- haps, is too light ; but, since I have made use of it, let me add, that the entire command and power of directing the local disposition of the army is to the royal prerogative, as the master feather in the eaglets wing ; and, if I were per- mitted to carry the allusion a little farther, I would say, they have disarmed the imperial bird, the " Ministrum Fulminis Alitem."^ The army is the thunder of the Crown. The minis- try have tied up the hand which should direct the bolt. My Lords, I remember that Minorca was lost for want of four battalions.^ They could not be spared from hence, and there was a delicacy about taking them from L'eland. I w^as one of those who promoted an inquiry into that matter in the other House ; and I was convinced we had not regular troops sufficient for the necessary service of the nation. Since the moment the plan of augmentation was first talked of, I have constantly and warmly supported it among my friends. I have recommended it to several mem- bers of the L-ish House of Commons, and exhort- ed them to support it wnth their utmost interest in Parliament. I did not foresee, nor could I conceive it possible, the ministry would accept of it, with a condition that makes the plan itself inefTectual, and, as far as it operates, defeats every useful purpose of maintaining a standing military force. His Majesty is now so confined by his promise, that he must leave twelve thou- 5 This refers to an engagement on the part of the King, that a number of effective troops, not less than 12,000 men, should at all times, except in cases of invasion or rebellion in Great Britain, be kept iu Ireland for its better defense. ^ " The winged minister of thmider." This is one of the most beautiful instances in our literature of rising at once from a casual and familiar expression, which seemed below the dignity of the occasion, into a magnificent image, sustained and enforced by a quotation from Horace, which has always been admired for its sublimity and strength. The image of a feather here applied to the King may have suggested to Junius (who was obviously an attentive hearer of Lord Chatham) a similar ap- plication of it to the same personage a few months after, in what has generally been considered the finest of his images. "The King's honor is that of his people. Their real honor and interest are the same. * * * * ffig feather that adorns the royal bird siipporis its flight. Strip him of his plnviage, and yon fix him to the earth." "• In January, 1756. sand men locked up m L-eland, let the situation of his affairs abroad, or the approach of danger to this country, be ever so alarming, unless there be an actual rebellion or invasion in Great Brit- ain. Even in the two cases excepted by the King's promise, the mischief must have already begun to operate, must have already taken effect, before his Majesty can be authorized to send for the assistance of his Irish army. He has not left himself the power of taking any preventive measures, let his intelligence be ever so certain, his apprehensions of invasion or rebellion be ever so well founded. Unless the traitor be actually in arms, unless the enemy be in the heart of your country, he can not move a single man from Ireland. I feel myself compelled, my Lords, to return to that subject which occupies and interests me most. I mean the internal disorder of the Con- stitution, and the remedy it demands. But first I would observe, there is one point upon which I think the noble Duke has not explained him- self. I do not mean to catch at words, but, if possible, to possess the sense of what I hear. I would treat every man with candor, and should expect the same candor in return. For the no- ble Duke, in particular, I have every personal respect and regard. I never desire to under- stand him but as he wishes to be understood. His Grace, I think, has laid much stress upon the diligence of the several public offices, and the assistance given them by the administration in preparing a state of the expenses of his Maj- esty's civil government, for the information of Parliament and for the satisfaction of the public. He has given us a number of plausible reasons for their not having yet been able to finish the account ; but, as far as I am able to recollect, he has not yet given us the smallest reason to hope that it ever will be finished, or that it ever will be laid before Parliament. My Lords, I am not unpracticed in business ; and if, with all that apparent diligence, and all that assistance which the noble Duke speaks of, the accounts in question have not yet been made up, I am convinced there must be a defect in some of the public oflSces, which ought to be strictly inquired into, and severely punished. But, my Lords, the waste of the public money is not, of itself, so important as the pernicious purpose to which we have reason to suspect that money has been applied. For some years past, there has been an influx of wealth into this coun- try, which has been attended with many fatal consequences, because it has not been the regu- lar, natural produce of labor and industry.^ The riches of Asia have been poured in upon us, and have brought with them not only Asiatic luxury, but, I fear, Asiatic principles of government. Without connections, without any natural inter- est in the soil, the importers of foreign gold have forced their way into Parliament by such a tor- " Much of the wealth which was brought from In- dia about this time, was used for the purchase of scats in Parliament by men who went out mere ad- venturers. 1770.] STATE OF THE NATION. m rent of private corruption, as no private heredit- ary fortune could resist. My Lords, not saying but what is within the knowledge of us all, the corruption of the people is the great original cause of the discontents of the people themselves, of the enterprise of the Crown, and the notorious decay of the internal vigor of the Constitution. For this great evil some immediate remedy must be provided ; and I confess, my Lords, I did hope that his Majesty's servants would not have suf- fered so many years of peace to relapse without paying some attention to an object which ought to engage and interest us all. I flattered my- self I should see some barriers thrown up in defense of the Constitution ; some impediment formed to stop the rapid progress of corruption. I doubt not we all agree that something must be done. I shall offer my thoughts, such as they are, to the consideration of the House ; and I wish that every noble Lord that hears me would be as ready as I am to contribute his opinion to this important service. I will not call my own sentiments crude and undigested. It would be unfit for me to offer any thing to your Lordships which I had not well considered ; and this sub- ject, I own, has not long occupied my thoughts. I will now give them to your Lordships without reserve. Whoever understands the theory of the En- glish Constitution, and will compare it with the fact, must see at once how widely they diflTer. We must reconcile them to each other, if we wish to save the liberties of this country ; we must reduce our political practice, as nearly as possible, to our principles. The Constitution in- tended that there should be a permanent relation between the constituent and representative body of the people. Will any man affirm that, as the House of Commons is now formed, that relation is in any degree preserved ? My Lords, it is not preserved ; it is destroyed. Let us be cau- tious, however, how we have recourse to violent expedients. The boroughs of this country have properly enough been called "the rotten parts" of the Constitution. I have lived in Cornwall, and, without entering into any invidious particularity, have seen enough to justify the appellation. But in my judgment, my Lords, these boroughs, cor- rupt as they are, must be considered as the nat- ural infirmity of the Constitution. Like the in- firmities of the body, we must bear them with patience, and submit to carry them about with us. The limb is mortified, but the amputation might be death. Let us try, my Lords, whether some gentler remedies may not be discovered. Since we can not cure the disorder, let us endeavor to infuse such a portion of new health into the Constitu- tion as may enable it to support its most invet- erate diseases. The representation of the counties is, I think, still preserved pure and uncorrupted. That of the greatest cities is upon a footing equally re- spectable ; and there are many of the larger trading towns which still preserve their inde- pendence. The infusion of health which I now allude to would be to permit every county to elect one member more, in addition to their pres- ent representation. The knights of the shires approach nearest to the constitutional represen- tation of the county, because they represent the soil. It is not in the little dependent boroughs, it is in the great cities and counties that the strength and vigor of the Constitution resides ; and by them alone, if an unhappy question should ever arise, will the Constitution be honestly and firmly defended. It would increase that strength, because I think it is the only security we have against the profligacy of the times, the corrup- tion of the people, and the ambition of the Crown. 9 I think I have weighed every possible objec- tion that can be raised against a plan of this na- tui'e ; and I confess I see but one which, to me, carries any appearance of solidity. It may be said, perhaps, that when the act passed for unit- ing the two kingdoms, the number of persons who were to represent the whole nation in Par- liament was proportioned and fixed on forever. That this limitation is a fundamental article, and can not be altered without hazarding a dissolu- tion of the Union. My Loi'ds, no man who hears me can have a greater reverence for that wise and important act than I have. I revere the memory of that great prince [King William III.] who first form- ed the plan, and of those illustrious patriots v>'ho carried it into execution. As a contract, every article of it should be inviolable ; as the common basis of the strength and happiness of two na- tions, every article of it should be sacred. I hope I can not be suspected of conceiving a thought so detestable as to propose an advant- age to one of the contracting parties at the ex- pense of the other. No, my Lords, I mean that the benefit should be universal, and the consent to receive it unanimous. Nothing less than a most urgent and important occasion should per- i suade me to vary even from the letter of the act ; but there is no occasion, however urgent, how- ever important, that should ever induce me to depart from the spirit of it. Let that spirit be religiously preserved. Let us follow the prin- ciple upon which the representation of the two countries was proportioned at the Union ; and when w^e increase the number of representatives for the English counties, let the shires of Scot- land be allowed an equal privilege. On these terms, and while the proportion limited by the Union is preserved by the two nations, I appre- hend that no man who is a friend to either will ^ This is the first distinct proposal that was ever made for a reform of Parliament. It left the bor- ough system as it was, in all its rottenness, and aimed to " infuse a portion of new health into the Constitution," sufficient to counteract the evil, by in- creasing the representation from the counties. The plan was never taken up by iater reformers The rotten part was amputated in 1832, as Lord Chat- ham himself predicted it would be before the expi ration of a century. 118 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. object to an alteration so necessary for the secu- rity of both. I do not speak of the authority of the Legislature to carry such a measure into ef- fect, because I imagine no man will dispute it. But I would not wish the Legislature to inter- pose by an exertion of its power alone, without the cheerful concurrence of all parties. My ob- ject is the happiness and security of the two na- tions, and I would not wish to obtain it without their mutual consent. My Lords, besides my warm approbation of the motion made by the noble Lord, I have a natural and personal pleasure in rising up to second it. I consider my seconding his Lord- ship's motion (and I would wish it to be consid- ered by others) as a public demonstration of that cordial union which I am happy to affirm sub- sists between us, of my attachment to those prin- ciples W'hich he has so well defended, and of my respect for his person. There has been a time, my Lords, when those who wished well to nei- ther of us, who wished to see us separated for- ever, found a sufficient gratification for their malignity against us both. But that time is happily at an end. The friends of this country will, I doubt not, hear w^ith pleasure that the noble Lord and his friends are now united with me and mine upon a principle which, I trust, will make our union indissoluble. It is not to possess, or divide the emoluments of govern- ment, but, if possible, to save the state. Upon this ground we met ; upon this ground we stand, firm and inseparable. No ministerial artifices, no private ofl^ers, no secret seduction, can divide us. United as we are. we can set the profound- est policy of the present ministry, their grand, their only arcanum of government, their " divide et impera,'"'" at defiance. I hope an early day will be agreed to for considering the state of the nation. My infirm- ities must fall heavily upon me, indeed, if 1 do not attend to my duty that day. When I con- sider my age and unhappy state of health, I feel how little I am personally interested in the event of any political question. But I look forward to others, and am determined, as far as my poor ability extends, to convey to them who come after me the blessings which I can not hope to enjoy myself. It was impossible to resist the motion, and therefore the Duke of Grafton yielded to it with the best grace possible, naming two days from that time, January 24th, as the day for the en- quiry. He afterward deferred it until February 2d : but, finding it impossible to resist the press- ure, he resigned on the 28th of January, 1770. Lord North took his place. The administra- tion now became more decidedly Tory than be- fore. Lord North continued at the head of the government for about twelve years. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION CALLING FOR PAPERS IN RELATION TO THE SEIZURE OF THE FALKLAND ISLANDS BY SPAIN, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, NOVEMBER 2, 1770. INTRODUCTION. The Falkland Islands, lying about three hundred miles east of the Straits of Magellan, were discovered by the English in the days of Queen Elizabeth, but so dreary and detemng was their appearance, that no steps were taken for their settlement during the next two hundred years. At length, in 1765, they were occupied in form by the British government, who soon after erected a small blockhouse, named Fort Egmont, on one of the islands, and there stationed a few troops. This gave much offense to the court of Spain, which claimed all the Magellanic regions; and, after sundry protests, Buccarelli, the governor of Buenos Ayres, sent an expedition which drove the English from the islands in the early part of 1770. It is a remarkable fact, as already mentioned, that Lord Chatham predicted this event at the close of the preceding Parliament, during the very month in which the Spanish fleet arrived at the Falkland Islands. " I do now pledge myself," said he, "to this honorable House for the truth of what I am going to assert, tliat, at this very hour that we are sitting together, a blow of hostility has been struck against us by our old inveterate enemies in some quarter of the world." When the intelligence of this seizure reached England, the whole nation was fired at the indignity of- fered to the British flag, and in every quarter the utmost eagerness was manifested to vindicate the na- tional honor. Lord Chatham, who had always cherished a strong antipathy and contempt for the Span- iards, shared largely in these feelings. Accordingly, when the Duke of Richmond moved for papers on this subject, he made the following speech, in which he first considers the outrage committed by Spain, and then expatiates on the want of spirit exhibited by the ministry, their neglect of naval and military preparations, the depressed condition of the country, and some of the causes which had led to this result. SPEECH, &o.' My Lords, — I rise to give my hearty assent '" Divide and rule. * This speech is understood to have been report- ed by Sir Philip Francis. to the motion made by the noble Duke. By his Grace's favor I have been permitted to see it, before it was offered to the House. I have fully considered the necessity of obtaining from the 1770.] RELATIONS TO SPAIN. 119 King's servants a communication of the papers described in the motion, and I am persuaded that the alarming state of facts, as well as the strength of reasoning with which the noble Duke has urged and enforced that necessity, must have been powerfully felt by your Lordships. What I mean to say upon this occasion may seem, per- haps, to extend beyond the limits of the motion before us. But I flatter myself, my Lords, that if I am honored with your attention, it will ap- pear that the meaning and object of this question are naturally connected with considerations of the most extensive national importance. For entering into such considerations, no season is improper, no occasion should be neglected. Something must be done, my Lords, and imme- diately, to save an injured, insulted, undone country ; if not to save the state, my Lords, at least to mark out and drag to public justice those servants of the Crown, by whose ignorance, neg- lect, or treachery this once great, flourishing people are reduced to a condition as deplorable at home as it is despicable abroad. Examples are wanted, my Lords, and should be given to the world, for the instruction of future times, even though they be useless to ourselves. I do not mean, my Lords, nor is it intended by the motion, to impede or embarrass a negotiation which we have been told is now in a prosperous train, and promises a happy conclusion. [Lord Weymouth. — I beg pardon for inter- rupting the noble Lord ; but I think it necessary to remark to your Lordships that I have not said a single word tending to convey to your Lord- ships any information or opinion with regard to the state or progress of the negotiation. I did, with the utmost caution, avoid giving to your Lordships the least intimation upon that matter.] I perfectly agree with the noble Lord. I did not mean to refer to any thing said by his Lord- ship. He expressed himself, as he always does, with moderation and reserve, and with the great- est propriety. It was another noble Lord, very high in office, who told us he understood that the negotiation was in a favorable train. [Earl of Hillsborough. — I did not make use of the word train. I know the meaning of the woi'd too w^ell. In the language from which it was derived, it signifies protraction and delay, which I could never mean to apply to the pres- ent negotiation.] This is the second time that I have been in- terrupted. I submit to your Lordships whether this be fair and candid treatment. I am sure it is contrary to the orders of the House, and a gross violation of decency and politeness. I listen to every noble Lord in this House w^th attention and respect. The noble Lord's design in interrupting me is as mean and unworthy as the manner in which he has done it is irregular and disorderly. He flatters himself that by break- ing the thread of my discourse, he shall confuse me in my argument. But, my Lords, I will not submit to this treatment. I will not be inter- rupted. When I have concluded, let him an- swer me, if he can. As to the word which he has denied, I still affirm that it was the word he made use of ; but if he had used any other, I am sure every noble Lord will agree with me, that his meaning was exactly what I have expressed it. Whether he said course or train is indiffijr- cnt. He told your Lordships that the negotia- tion was in a way that promised a happy and honorable conclusion. His distinctions are mean, frivolous, and puerile. My Lords. I do not un- derstand the exalted tone assumed by that noble Lord. In the distress and weakness of this coun- try, my Lords, and conscious as the ministry ought to be how much they have contributed to that distress and weakness. I think a tone of modesty, of submission, of humility, would be- come them better ; " qua3dam causoe modestiam desiderant."^ Before this country they stand as the greatest criminals. Such I shall prove them to be ; for I do not doubt of proving, to your Lordships' satisfaction, that since they have been intrusted with the King's affairs, they have done every thing that they ought not to have done, and hardly any thing that they ought to have done. The noble Lord talks of Spanish punctilios in the lofty style and idiom of a Spaniard. We are to be wonderfully tender of the Spanish point of honor, as if they had been the complainants, as if they had received the injury. I think he would have done better to have told us what care had been taken of the English honor. My Lords, I am well acquainted with the character of that nation — at least as far as it is represent- ed by their court and ministry, and should think this country dishonored by a comparison of the English good faith with the punctilios of a Span- iard. My Lords, the English are a candid, an ingenuous people. The Spaniards are as mean and crafty as they are proud and insolent. The integrity of the English merchant, the generous spirit of our naval and military officers, would be degraded by a comparison with their mer- chants or officers. With their ministers I have often been obliged to negotiate, and never met with an instance of candor or dignity in their proceedings ; nothing but low cunning, trick, and artifice. After a long experience of their want of candor and good faith, I found myself compelled to talk to them in a peremptory, de- cisive language. On this principle I submitted my advice to a trembling council for an imme- diate declaration of a war with Spain.'' Your Lordships well know what were the consequen- ces of not following that advice. Since, how- ever, for reasons unknown to me, it has been thought advisable to negotiate with the court of Spain, I should have conceived that the great and single object of such a negotiation would have been, to obtain complete satisfaction for the injury done to the crown and people of En- gland. But, if I understand the noble Lord, the only object of the present negotiation is to find a salvo for the punctilious honor of the Span- iards. The absurdity of such an idea is of it- 2 Some causes call for modesty. 3 In 1761. See p. 63. 120 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. self insupportable. But, my Lords, I object to our negotiating at all, in our present circum- stances. We are not in that situation in which a great and powerful nation is permitted to ne- gotiate. A foreign power has forcibly robbed his Majesty of a part of his dominions. Is the island restored ? Are you replaced in statu quo ? If that had been done, it might then, perhaps, have been justifiable to treat with the aggressor upon the satisfaction he ought to make for the insult offered to the Crown of England. But will 3'ou descend so low ? Will you so shame- fully betray the King's honor, as to make it mat- ter of negotiation whether his Majesty's posses- sions shall be restored to him or not ? I doubt not, my Lords, that there are some important mysteries in the conduct of this affair, which, whenever they are explained, will ac- count for the profound silence now observed by the Kinff's servants. The time will come, my Lords, when they shall be dragged from their concealments. There are some questions which, sooner or later, must be answered. The minis- try, I find, without declaring themselves explic- itly, have taken pains to possess the public with an opinion, that the Spanish court have con- stantly disavowed the proceedings of their gov- ernor ; and some persons, I see, have been shame- less and daring enough to advise his Majesty to support and countenance this opinion in his speech from the throne. Certainly, my Lords, there never was a more odious, a more infamous false- hood imposed on a great nation. It degrades the King's honor. It is an insult to Parliament. His Majesty has been advised to confirm and give currency to an absolute falsehood. I beg your Lordship's attention, and 1 hope I shall be understood, when I repeat, that the court of Spain's having disavowed the act of their gov- ernor is an absolute, a palpable falsehood.'* Let me ask, my Lords, when the first communica- tion was made by the court of Madrid of their being apprised of the taking of Falkland's Isl- and, was it accompanied with an offer of instant restitution, of immediate satisfaction, and the punishment of the Spanish governor ? If it was not, they have adopted the act as their own, and the very mention of a disavowal is an impudent insult offered to the King's dignity. The King of Spain disowns the thief, while he leaves him unpunished, and profits by the theft. In vulgar English, he is the receiver of stolen goods, and ought to be treated accordingly. If your Lordships will look back to a period of the English history in which the circumstan- ces are reversed, in which the Spaniards were the complainants, you will see how differently they succeeded. You will see one of the ablest men, one of the bravest oflUcers this or any other * History confirms this statement. Adolphus says that when Lord Weymouth inquired "whether Gri- maldi had instructions to disavow the conduct of BuccarelH, he received an answer in the negative." —Vol. i., p. 431. It was not until January 22d, 1771, nearly three months after, that the disavowal was made. See Adolphus, i.. 435. country ever produced (it is hardly necessary to mention the name of Sir Walter Raleigh), sacri- ficed by the meanest prince that ever sat upon the throne, to the vindictive jealousy of that haughtj court. James the First was base enough, at the instance of Gondomar, to suffer a sentence against Sir Walter Raleigh, for another supposed oflTense. to be carried into execution almost twelve years after it had been passed. This was the pretense. His real crime was, that he had mor- tally offended the Spaniards, while he acted by the King's express orders, and under his com- mission. My Lords, the pretended disavowal by the court of Spain is as ridiculous as it is false. If your Lordships want any other proof, call for your own officers who were stationed at Falk- land Island. Ask the officer who commanded the garrison, whether, when he was summoned to surrender, the demand was made in the name of the Governor of Buenos A3'res or of his Cath- olic Majesty? Was the island said to belong to Don Francisco Buccarelli or to the King of Spain ? If I am not mistaken, we have been in possession of these islands since the year 1764 or 1765. Will the ministry assert, that, in all that time, the Spanish court have never once claimed them ? That their right to them has never been urged, or mentioned to our ministry ? If it has, the act of the Governor of Buenos Ayres is plainly the consequence of our refusal to acknowledge and submit to the Spanish claims. For five years they negotiate ; when that fails, they take the island by force. If that measure had arisen out of the general instructions con- stantly given to the Governor of Buenos Ayres, why should the execution of it have been defer- red so long? My Lords, if the falsehood of this pretended disavowal had been confined to the court of Spain, I should have admitted it without con- cern. I should have been content that they themselves had left a door open for excuse and accommodation. The King of England's honor is not touched till he adopts the falsehood, deliv- ers it to his Parliament, and adopts it as his own. I can not quit this subject without comparing the conduct of the present ministry with that of a gentleman [Mr. George Grenville] who is now no more. The occasions were similar. The French had taken a little island from us [in 1764] called Turk's Island. The minister then at the head of the treasury [Mr. Grenville] took the business upon himself. But he did not nego- tiate. He sent for the French embassador and made a peremptory demand. A courier was dispatched to Paris, and returned in a few days, with orders for instant restitution, not only of the island, but of every thing that the English subjects had lost.-'' Such, then, my Lords, are the circumstances 5 A similar measure of spirit was adopted by the same minister with the Spaniards, who had driven our settlers from Honduras, to whom fourteen days had been allowed ; upon which, all was instantly and amicably adjusted. 1 1770.] RELATIONS TO SPAIN. 121 of our difference with Spain ; and in this situa- tion, we are told iliat a negotiation has been entered into ; that this negotiation, which must have commenced near three months ago, is still depending, and that any insight into the actual state of it will impede the conclusion. My Lords, I am not, for my own part, very anxious to draw from the ministry the information which they take so much care to conceal from us. I very well know where this honorable negotiation ivill end — where it must end. We may, perhaps, be able to patch up an accommodation for the pres- ent, but we shall have a Spanish war in six months. Some of your Lordships may, perhaps, remember the Convention. For several success- ive years our mei'chants had been plundei-ed ; no protection given them ; no redress obtained for them. During all that time we were contented to complain and to negotiate. The court of Madrid were then as ready to disown their offi- cers, and as unwilling to punish them, as they are at present. Whatever violence happened was always laid to the charge of one or other of their West India governors. To-day it was the Governor of Cuba, to-morrow^ of Porto Rico, Carlhagena, or Porto Bello. If in a particular instance redress was promised, how was that promise kept? The merchant who had been robbed of his property was sent to the West In- dies, to get it, if he could, out of an empty chest. At last, the Convention was made ; but, though approved by a majority of both houses, it w^as received by the nation w^th universal discontent. I myself heard that wise man [Sir Robert Wal- pole] say in the House of Commons, " 'Tis true we have got a Convention and a vote of Parlia- ment ; but what signifies it ? We shall have a Spanish war upon the back of our Convention." Here, my Lords, I can not help mentioning a very striking observation made to me by a noble Lord [Granville], since dead. His abilities did honor to this House and to this nation. In the upper departments of government he had not his equal ; and I feel a pride in declaring, that to his patronage, his friendship, and instruction, I owe w^hatever I am. This great man has often observ- ed to me, that, in all the negotiations which pre- ceded the Convention, our ministers never found out that there w^as no ground or subject for any negotiation. That the Spaniards had not a right to search our ships, and when they attempted to regulate that right by treaty, they were regu- lating a thing which did not exist. This I take to be something like the case of the ministry. The Spaniards have seized an island they have no right to ; and his Majesty's servants make it a matter of negotiation, w^hether his dominions shall be restored to him or not. From what I have said, my Lords, I do not doubt but it will be understood by many Lords, and given out to the public, that I am for hurry- ing the nation, at all events,. into a war with 6 The Convention here referred to was the one made by Sir Robert Walpole in 1739, which Lord Chatham at the time so strenuously resisted. Spain, My Lords, I disclaim such counsels, and I beg that this declaration may be remembered. Let us have peace, my Lords, but let it be hon- orable, let it be secure, A patched-up peace will not do. It will not satisfy the nation, though it may be approved of by Parliament. I distinguish widely between a solid peace, and the disgraceful expedients by which a war may be deferred, but can not be avoided. I am as tender of the effusion of human blood as the no- ble Lord who dwelt so long upon the miseries of war. If the bloody politics of some noble Lords had been followed, England, and every quarter of his JNIajesty's dominions would have been glut- ted whh blood — the blood of our own country- men. ]My Lords, I have better reasons, perhaps, than many of your Lordships for desiring peace upon the terms I have described. I know the strength and preparation of the house of Bourbon ; I know the defenseless, unprepared condition of this country. I know not by what mismanagement we are reduced to this situation ; but when 1 consider who are the men by whom a war, in the outset at least, must be conducted, can I but wish for peace? Let them not screen them- selves behind the want of intelligence. They had intelligence : I know^ they had. If they had not, they are criminal, and tlieir excuse is their crime. But I will tell these young ministers the true source of intelligence. It is sagacity. Sa- gacity to compare causes and effects ; to judge of the present state of things, and discern the future by a careful reviev^' of the past. Oliver Cromwell, who astonished mankind by his intel- ligence, did not derive it from spies in the cabi- net of every prince in Europe : he drew it from the cabinet of his own sagacious mind. He ob- served facts, and traced them forward to their consequences. From what was, he concluded what must be, and he never was deceived. In the present situation of affairs, I think it would be treachery to the nation to conceal from them their real circumstances, and, with respect to a foreign enemy, I know that all concealments are vain and useless. They are as well acquainted with the actual force and weakness of this coun- try as any of the King's servants. This is no time for silence or reserve. I charge the min- isters with the highest crimes that men in their stations can be guilty of. I charge them with having destroyed all content and unanimity at home by a series of oppressive, unconstitutional measures ; and with having betrayed and deliv- ered up the nation defenseless to a foreign en- emy. Their utmost vigor has reached no farther than to a fruitless, protracted negotiation. When they should have acted, they have contented themselves with talking '"about it, goddess, and about ity If WG do not stand forth, and do our duty in the present crisis, the nation is irretriev- ably undone. I despise the little policy of con- cealments. You ought to know the whole of your situation. If the information be new to the ministry, let them take care to profit by it. I 123 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. mean to rouse, to alarm the whole nation ; to rouse the ministry, if possible, who seem to awake to nothing but the preservation of their places — to awaken the King. Early in the last spring, a motion was made m Parliament for inquiring into the state of the navy, and an augmentation of six thousand sea- men was offered to the ministry. They refused to give us any insight into the condition of the navy, and rejected the augmentation. Early in June they received advice of a commencement of hostilities by a Spanish armament, which had warned the King's garrison to quit an island be- longing to his Majesty. From that to the 12th of September, as if nothing had happened, they lay dormant. Not a man was raised, not a sin- gle ship was put into commission. From the 12th of September, when they heard of the first blow being actually struck, w'e are to date the beginning of their preparations for defense. Let us now inquire, my Lords, what expedition they have used, what vigor they have exerted. We have heard wonders of the diligence employed in impressing, of the large bounties offered, and the number of ships put into commission. These have been, for some time past, the constant top- ics of ministerial boast and triumph. Without regarding the description, let us look to the sub- stance. I tell your Lordships that, with all this vigor and expedition, they have not, in a period of considerably more than tw^o months, raised ten thousand seamen. I mention that number, meaning to speak largely, though in my own breast I am convinced that the number does not exceed eight thousand. But it is said they have ordered forty ships of the line into commission. My Lords, upon this subject I can speak with knowledge. I have been conversant in these matters, and draw my information from the great- est and most respectable naval authority that ever existed in this country — I mean the late Lord Anson. The merits of that great man are not so universally known, nor his memory so warmly respected as he deserved. To his wis- dom, to his experience and care (and I speak it with pleasure), the nation owes the glorious na- val successes of the last war. The state of facts laid before Parliament in the year 1756, so en- tirely convinced me of the injustice done to his character, that in spite of the popular clamors raised against him, in direct opposition to the complaints of the merchants, and of the whole city (whose favor I am supposed to court upon all occasions), I replaced him at the head of the Admiralty, and I thank God that I had resolution enough to do so. Instructed by this great sea- man, I do affirm, that forty ships of the line, with their necessary attendant frigates, to be properly manned, require forty thousand seamen. If your Lordships are surprised at this assertion, you will be more so when I assure you, that in the last war, this country maintained eighty-five thousand seamen, and employed them all. Now, my Lords, the peace establishment of your navy, supposing it complete and effective (which, by-the-by, ought to be known), is six- teen thousand men. Add to these the number newly raised, and you have about twenty-five thousand men to man your fleet. I shall come presently to the application of this force, such as it is, and compare it with the services which I know are indispensable. But first, my Lords, let us have done with the boasted vigor of the ministry. Let us hear no more of their activity. If your Lordships will recall to your minds the state of this country when Mahon was taken, and compare what was done by government at that time with the efforts now made in very similar circumstances, you will be able to de- termine what praise is due to the vigorous oper- ations of the present ministry. Upon the first intelligence of the invasion of Minorca, a great fleet was equipped and sent out, and near double the number of seamen collected in half the time taken to fit out the present force, which, pitiful as it is, is not yet, if the occasion was ever so pressing, in a condition to go to sea. Consult the returns which were laid before Parliament in the year 1756. I was one of those who urged a parliamentary inquiry into the conduct of the ministry. That ministry, my Lords, in the midst of universal censure and reproach, had honor and virtue enough to promote the inquiry themselves. They scorned to evade it by the mean expedient of putting a previous question. Upon the strict- est inquiry, it appeared that the diligence they had used in sending a squadron to the Mediter- ranean, and in their other naval preparations, was beyond all example. My Lords, the subject on which I am speak- ing seems to call upon me, and I willingly take this occasion, to declare my opinion upon a ques- tion on which much wicked pains have been employed to disturb the minds of the people and to distress government. My opinion may not be very popular ; neither am I running the race of popularity. I am myself clearly convinced, and I believe every man who knows any thing of the English navy will acknowledge, that without impressing, it is impossible to equip a respect- able fleet within the time in which such arma- ments are usually wanted. If this fact be ad- mitted, and if the necessity of arming upon a sudden emergency should appear incontroverti- ble, what shall we think of those men who, in the moment of danger, would stop the great de- fense of their country ? Upon whatever princi- ple they may act, the act itself is more than fac- tion — it is laboring to cut off" the right hand of the community. I wholly condemn their con- duct, and am ready to support any motion that may be made for bringing those aldermen, who have endeavored to stop the execution of the Ad- miralty warrants, to the bar of this House. My Lords, I do not rest my opinion merely upon ne- cessity. I am satisfied that the power of im- pressing is founded upon uninterrupted usage. It is the "consueludo resni"' [the custom of the realm], and part of the common law prerogative of the Crown. When I condemn the proceed- ings of some persons upon this occasion, let me do justice to a man whose character and conduct 1770.] RELATIONS TO SPAIN. 123 have been most infamously traduced ; I mean the ]ate Lord Mayor, Mr. Treacothick. In the midst of reproach and clamor, he had firmness enough to persevere in doing his duty. I do not know in office a more upright magistrate, nor, in private life, a worthier man. Permit me now, my Lords, to state to your Lordships the extent and variety of the service which must be provided for, and to compare them with our apparent resources. A due at- tention to, and provision for these services, is prudence in time of peace ; in war it is necessity. Preventive policy, my Lords, which obviates or avoids the injury, is far preferable to that vin- dictive policy which aims at reparation, or has no object but revenge. The precaution that meets the disoi-der is cheap and easy ; the rem- edy which follows it, bloody and expensive. The first great and acknowledged object of national defense in this country is to maintain such a su- perior naval force at home, that even the united fleets of France and Spain may never be masters of the Channel. If that should ever happen, what is there to hinder their landing in Ireland, or even upon our own coast ? They have often made the attempt. In King William's time it succeeded. King James embarked on board a French fleet, and landed with a French army in Ireland. In the mean time the French were masters of the Channel, and continued so until their fleet was destroyed by Admiral Russel. As to the probable consequences of a foreign army landing in Great Britain or Ireland, I shall ofTer your Lordships my opinion when I speak of the actual condition of our standing army. The second naval object with an English min- ister should be to maintain at all times a power- ful Western squadron. In the profoundest peace it should be respectable ; in war it should be formidable. Without it, the colonies, the com- merce, the navigation of Great Britain, lie at the mei'cy of the house of Bourbon. While I had the honor of acting with Lord Anson, that able officer never ceased to inculcate upon the minds of his Majesty's servants, the necessity of constantly maintaining a strong Western squad- ron ; and I must vouch for him, that while he was at the head of the marine, it was never neg- lected. The third object indispensable, as I conceive, in the distribution of our navy, is to maintain such a force in the Bay of Gibraltar as may be sufficient to cover that garrison, to watch the motions of the Spaniards, and to keep open the communication with Minorca. The ministry will not betray such a want of information as to dispute the truth of any of these propositions. But how will your Lordships be astonished when I inform you in what manner they have provided for these great, these essential objects ? As to the first — I mean the defense of the Channel — I take upon myself to affirm to your Lordships, that, at this hour (and I beg that the date may be taken down and observed), we can not send out eleven ships of the line so manned and equip- ped, that any officer of rank and credit in the serv- ice shall accept of the command and stake his reputation upon it. We have one ship of the line at Jamaica, one at the Leeward Islands, and one at Gibraltar ! Yet at this very moment, for aught that the ministry knov^^, both Jamaica and Gibraltar may be attacked ; and if they are at- tacked (which God forbid), they must fall. Noth- ing can prevent it but the appearance of a supe- rior squadron. It is true that, some two months ago, four ships of the line were ordered from Portsmouth and one from Plymouth, to carry a relief from Ireland to Gibraltar. These ships, my Lords, a week ago were still in port. If, upon their arrival at Gibraltar, they should find the bay possessed by a superior squadron, the relief can not be landed ; and if it could be land- ed, of what force do your Lordships think it con- sists? Two regiments, of four hundred men each, at a time like this, are sent to secure a place of such importance as Gibraltar ! a place which it is universally agreed can not hold out against a vigorous attack from the sea, if once the enemy should be so far masters of the bay as to make a good landing even with a moderate force. The indispensable service of the lines requires at least four thousand men. The pres- ent garrison consists of about two thousand three hundred ; so that if the relief should be fortu- nate enough to get on shore, they will want eight hundred men of their necessary complement. Let us now, my Lords, turn our eyes home- ward. When the defense of Great Britain or Ireland is in question, it is no longer a point of honor; it is not the security of foreign com- merce or foreign possessions ; we are to con- tend for the being of the state. I have good authority to assure your Lordships that the Spaniards have now a fleet at Ferrol, complete- ly manned and ready to sail, which we are in no condition to meet. We could not this day send out eleven ships of the line properly equip- ped, and to-morrow the enemy may be masters of the Channel. It is unnecessary to press the consequences of these facts upon your Lord- ships' minds. If the enemy were to land in full force, either upon this coast or in Ireland, where is your army ? Where is your defense ? My Lords, if the house of Bourbon make a wise and vigorous use of the actual advantages they have over us, it is more than probable that on this day month we may not be a natirn. What military force can the ministry show to answer any sud- den demand ? I do not speak of foreign expe- ditions or offensive operations ; I speak of the interior defense of Ireland and of this country. You have a nominal army of seventy battalions, besides guards and cavalry. But what is the establishment of these battalions ? Supposing they were complete in the numbers allowed, which I know they are not, each regiment would consist of something less than four hun- dred men, rank and file. Are these battalions complete ? .Have any orders been given for an augmentation, or do the ministry mean to con- tinue them upon their present low establishment? When America, the West Indies, Gibraltar, and 124 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1770. Minorca, are taken care of, consider, my Lords, what part of this army will remain to defend Ireland and Great Britain? This subject, my Lords, leads me to considerations of foreign policy and foreign alliance. It is more connect- ed with them than your Lordships may at first imagine. When I compare the numbers of our people, estimated highly at seven millions, with the population of France and Spain, usually com- puted at twenty-five millions, I see a clear, self- evident impossibility for this country to contend with the united power of the house of Bourbon merely upon the strength of its own resources. They who talk of confining a great war to naval operations only, speak without knowledge or ex- perience. We can no more conmiand the dis- position than the events of a war. Wherever we are attacked, there we must defend. I have been much abused, my Lords, for sup- poi'ting a war which it has been the fashion to call my German war. But I can affirm with a clear conscience, that that abuse has been thrown on me by men who were either unacquainted with facts, or had an interest in misrepresenting them. I shall speak plainly and frankly to your Lord- ships upon this, as I do upon every occasion. That I did in Parliament oppose, to the utmost of my power, our engaging in a German war, is most true ; and if the same circumstance were to recur, I would act the same part, and oppose it again. But when I was called upon to take a share in the administration, that measure was already decided. Before I was appointed Sec- retary of State, the first treaty with the King of Prussia was signed, and not only ratified by the Crown, but a{)proved of and confirmed by a reso- lution of both houses of Parliament. It was a weight fastened upon my neck. By that treaty the honor of the Crown and the honor of the na- tion were equally engaged. How I could re- cede from such an engagement — how 1 could advise the Crown to desert a great prince in the midst of those difficulties in which a reliance upon the good faith of this country had contrib- uted to involve him, are questions I willingly submit to your Lordships' candor. That won- dei-ful man might, perhaps, have extricated him- self from his difficulties without our assistance. He has talents which, in every thing that touches the human capacity, do honor to the human mind. But how would England have supported that rep- utation of credit and good faith by which we have been distinguished in Europe ? What other for- eign power would have sought our friendship? What other foreign power would have accepted of an alliance with us ? But, my Lords, though I wholly condemn our entering into any engagements which tend to in- volve us in a continental war, I do not admit that alliances with some of the German princes arc either detrimental or useless. They may be, my Lords, not only useful, but necessary. I hope, indeed, I never shall see an army of foreign aux- iliaries in Great Britain ; we do not want it. If our people are united — if they are attached to the King, and place confidence in his govern- ment, we have an internal strength sufficient to repel any foreign invasion. With respect to Ire- land, my Lords, I am not of the same opinion. If a powerful foreign army were landed in that kingdom, with arms ready to be put into the hands of the Roman Catholics, I declare freely to your Lordships that I should heartily wish it were possible to collect twenty thousand German Protestants, whether from Hesse, or Brunswick, or Wolfenbuttle, or even the unpopular Hano- verians, and land them in Ireland. I wish it, my Lords, because I am convinced that, whenever the case happens, we shall have no English army to spare. I have taken a wide circuit, my Lords, and trespassed, I fear, too long upon your Lordships' patience. Yet I can not conclude without en- deavoring to bring home your thoughts to an object more immediately interesting to us than any I have yet considered ; I mean the internal condition of this country. We may look abroad for wealth, or triumphs, or luxury ; but England, my Lords, is the main stay, the last resort of the whole empire To this point every scheme of policy, w^hether foreign or domestic, should ulti- mately refer. Have any measures been taken to satisfy or to unite the people ? Are the griev- ances they have so long complained of removed ? or do they stand not only unredressed, but ag- gravated ? Is the right of free election restored to the elective body ? My Lords, I myself am one of the people. I esteem that security and independence, which is the original birthright of an Englishman, far beyond the privileges, how^- ever splendid, which are annexed to the peer- age. I myself am by birth an English elector, and join with the freeholders of England as in a common cause. Believe me, my Lords, we mis- take our real interest as much as our duty when we separate ourselves from the mass of the peo- ple. Can it be expected that Englishmen will unite heartily in the defense of a government by which they feel themselves insulted and oppress- ed ? Restore them to their rights ; that is the true way to make them unanimous. It is not a ceremonious recommendation from the Throne that can bring back peace and harmony to a discontented people. That insipid annual opiate has been administered so long that it has lost its effect. Something substantial, something effect- ual must be done. The public credit of the nation stands next in degree to the rights of the Constitution ; it calls loudly for the interposition of Parliament. There is a set of men, my Lords, in the city of London, who are known to live in riot and luxury upon the plunder of the ignorant, the innocent, the helples.s — upon that part of the community which stands most in need of, and best deserves the care and protection of the Legislature. To me, my Lords, whether they be miserable jobbers of 'Change Alley, or the lofty Asiatic plunderers of Leadcnhall Street, they are all equally detesta- ble. I care but little whether a man walks on foot, or is drawn by eight horses or six horses ; if his luxury is supported by the plunder of his 1770] RELATIONS TO SPAIN. 121 countr}', I despise and detest him. My Lords, while I had the honor of serving his Majest3% I never ventured to look at the treasury but at a distance ; it is a business I am unfit for, and to which I never could have submitted. The little I know of it has not served to raise my opinion of what is vulgarly called the moneyed interest ; I mean that blood-sucker, that muck-worm, which calls itself the friend of government — that pre- tends to serve this or that administration, and may be purchased, on the same terms, by any administration — that advances money to govern- ment, and takes special care of its own emolu- ments. Under this description I include the whole race of commissaries, jobbers, contractors, cloth- iers, and remitters. Yet I do not deny that, even wiih these creatures, some management may be necessary. I hope, my Lords, that noth- ing that I have said will be understood to extend to the honest and industrious tradesman, who holds the middle rank, and has given repeated proofs that he prefers law and liberty to gold. I love that class of men. Much less w^ould I be thought to reflect upon the fair merchant, whose liberal commerce is the prime source of national wealth. I esteem his occupation and respect his character. My Lords, if the general I'epresentation, which I have had the honor to lay before you, of the situation of public affairs, has in any measure engaged your attention, your Lordships, I am sure, will agree with me, that the season calls for more than common prudence and vigor in the direction of our councils. The difficulty of the crisis demands a wise, a firm, and a popular ad- ministration. The dishonorable traffic of places has engaged us too long. Upon this subject, my Lords, I speak without interest or enmity. I have no personal objection to any of the King's servants. I shall never be minister ; certainly not without full powder to cut away all the rotten branches of government. Yet, unconcerned as I truly am for myself, I can not avoid seeing some capital erroi's in the distribution of the royal fa- vor. There are men, my Lords, who, if their own services were forgotten, ought to have an hereditary merit with the house of Hanover : whose ancestors stood forth in the day of trouble, opposed their persons and fortunes to treachery and rebellion, and secured to his Majesty's fam- ily this splendid power of rewarding. There are other men, my Lords [looking sternly at Lord Mansfield], who, to speak tenderly of them, were not quite so forward in the demonstrations of their zeal to the reigning family. There was an- other cause, my Lords, and a partiality to it, which some persons had not at all times discre- tion enough to conceal. I know I shall be ac- cused of attempting to revive distinctions. My Lords, if it were possible, I would abolish all dis- tinctions. I w^ould not wi.sh the favors of the Crown to flow invariably in one channel. But there are some distinctions which are inherent in the nature of things. There is a distinction between right and wrong — between Whig and Tory. When I speak of an administration, such as the necessity of the season calls for, my views are large and comprehensive. It must be popu- lar, that it may begin with reputation. It must be strong within itself, that it may proceed with vigor and decision. An administration, formed upon an exclusive system of family connections or private friendships, can not, I am convinced, be long supported in this country. Yet, my Lords, no man respects or values more than I do that honorable connection, which arises from a disinterested concurrence in opinion upon public measures, or from the sacred bond of private friendship and esteem. What I mean is, that no single man's private friendships or connections, however extensive, are sufficient of themselves either to form or overturn an administration. With respect to the ministry, I believe they have fewer rivals than they imagine. No pruden*- man will covet a situation so beset with diffi- culty and danger. I shall trouble your Lordships with but a few words more. His Majesty tells us in his speech that he will call upon us for our advice, if it should be necessary in the farther progress of this affair. It is not easy to say whether or no the ministry are serious in this declaration, nor what is meant by the progress of an afl^air which rests upon one fixed point. Hitherto we have not been called upon. But, though we are not consulted, it is our right and duty, as the King's great hereditary council, to offer him our advice. The papers mentioned in the noble Duke's mo- tion wall enable us to form a just and accurate opinion of the conduct of his Majesty's servant.s, though not of the actual state of their honorable negotiations. The ministry, too, seem to want advice upon some points in which their own safe- ty is immediately concerned. They are now balancing between a war which they ought to have foreseen, but for which they have made no provision, and an ignominious compromise. Let me warn them of their danger. If they are forced into a war, they stand it at the hazard of their heads. If by an ignominious compromise they should stain the honor of the Crown, or sac- rifice the rights of the people, let them look to the consequences, and consider whether they will be able to walk the streets in safety. The Duke of Richmond's motion was nega- tived by a vote of 65 to 21. The ministry, how- ever, took from this time more decided ground, and demanded a restoration of the islands, and a disavowal of their seizure, as the only course on the part of Spain which could prevent immediate war. It is now known that the Spanish court, in adopting these measures, had acted in concert with the court of France, and had reason to ex- pect her support, whatever might be the conse- quences. Had this support been afforded, the war predicted by Lord Chatham would inevita- bly have taken place. But the King of France found himself involved in great pecuniary diffi- culties, and could not be induced to enter into the war. The Spaniards were therefore com- 126 LORD CHATHAM ON THE [1774. pelled to yield. They disavowed the seizure I were abandoned by the English 5 and it is now and restored the islands, on condition that this understood that Lord North secretly agreed to restoration should not affect any claim of right j do this, when the arrangement was made for the on the part of Spain. Three years after, they I restoration of the islands by the Spanish. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON THE BILL AUTHORIZING THE QUARTERING OF BRITISH SOLDIERS ON THE INHABITANTS OF BOSTON, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. MAY 27, 1774. INTRODUCTION. The health of Lord Chatham had for some time prevented him from taking any active part in public affairs. During two years he had rarely made his appearance in the House of Lords, and nothing but the rash and headlong measures of Lord North in regard to America, could have drawn him again from his retirement. In speaking of those measures, it may be proper briefly to remind the reader of some of the pi'ecediug events. When Charles Townsend was left at the head of affairs, by Lord Chatham's unfortunate illness during the winter of 1766-7, he was continually goaded by Mr. Grenville on the subject of American tax- ation.i " You are cowards ! You are afraid of the Americans. You dare not tax America!" The rash spirit of Townsend was roused by these attacks. "Fear?" said he. " Cowards ? Dare not tax Amer- ica ? / dare tax America .'" Grenville stood silent for a moment, and then said, "Dare you tax Amer- ica ? I wish to God you would do it." Townsend replied, " I will, I will." This hasty declaration could not be evaded or withdrawn, and in June, 1767, Townsend brought in a bill imposing duties on glass, pa- per, pasteboard, white and red lead, painters' colors, and tea, imported into the colonies. The preamble declared that it was " expedient to raise a revenue in America." A spirit of decided resistance to these taxes was at once manifested throughout all the colonies, and Lord North, on coming into power about two years after, introduced a bill repealing all the duties imposed by the act of 1767, except that on tea. But this was unsatisfactory, for it put the repeal on "commercial grounds" alone, and expressly reserved the right of taxation. At the close of 1773, the East India Company, encouraged by the ministry, sent large quantities of tea to Boston and some other American ports. The people resolved that the tea should not be landed, but should be sent back to England in the ships that brought it. As this was forbidden by the Custom-house, all the tea on board the ships lying in Boston harbor was thrown into the water by men disguised as Indians, on the evening of December 18th, 1773. This daring act awakened the keenest re- sentment of the British ministry. In March, 177-1, laws were passed depriving Massachusetts of her char- ter, closing the port of Boston, and allowing persons charged with capital offenses to be carried to En- gland for trial. As a means of farther enforcement, a bill was introduced in the month of May, 1774, for quartering troops on the inhabitants of the town of Boston, and other parts of the American colonies. This state of things gave rise to a number of Lord Chatham's most celebrated speeches, of which the fol- lowing was the first in order. SPEECH, &c. My Lords, — The unfavorable state of health under which I have long labored, could not pre- vent me from laying before your Lordships my thoughts on the bill now upon the table, and on the American affairs in general. If we take a transient view of those motives which induced the ancestors of our fellow-sub- jects in America to leave their native country, to encounter the innumerable didiculties of the unexplored regions of the Western World, our astonishment at the present conduct of their de- scendants will naturally subside. There was no corner of the world into which men of their free and enterprising spirit would not fly with alac- rity, rather than submit to the slavish and tyran- nical principles which prevailed at that period in their native country. And shall we wonder, I See Burke's admirable sketches of Grenville, Townsend, and Lord Chatham's third ministry, in nis Speech on American Taxation. ray Lords, if the descendants of such illustrious characters spurn with contempt the hand of un- constitutional power, that would snatch from them such dear-bought privileges as they now contend for ? Had the British colonies been planted by any other kingdom than our own, the inhabitants would have carried with them the chains of slavery and spirit of despotism ; but as they are, they ought to be remembered as great instances to instruct the world what great exertions mankind will naturally make, when they are left to the free exercise of their own powers. And, my Lords, notwithstanding my intention to give my hearty negative to the ques- tion now before you, I can not help condemning in the severest manner the late turbulent and un- warrantable conduct of the Americans in some instances, particularly in the late riots of Boston. But, my Lords, the mode which has been pur- sued to bring them back to a sense of their duty to their parent state, has been so diametrically [774] QUARTERING SOLDIERS IN BOSTON. 127 opposite to the fundamental principles of sound ]wlicy, that individuals possessed of common un- derstanding must be astonished at such proceed- ings. By blocking up the harbor of Boston, you have involved the innocent trader in the same punishment with the guilty profligates who de- stroyed your merchandise ; and instead of mak- ing a well-concerted effort to secure the real ofl'enders, you clap a naval and military extin- guisher over their harbor, and visit the crime of a few lawless depredators and their abettors upon the whole body of the inhabitants. My Lords, this country is little obliged to the framers and promoters of this tea tax. The Americans had almost forgot, in their excess of gratitude for the repeal of the Stamp Act, any interest but that of the mother country ; there seemed an emulation among the different prov- inces who should be most dutiful and forward in their expressions of loyalty to their real bene- factor, as you will readily perceive by the fol- lowing letter from Governor Bernard to a noble Lord then in office. " The House of Representatives," says he, " from the time of opening the session to this day, has show'n a disposition to avoid all dispute with me, every thing having passed with as much good humor as I could desire. They have acted in all things with temper and moderation ; they have avoided some subjects of dispute, and have laid a foundation for removing some causes of former altercation." This, my Lords, was the temper of the Amer- icans, and would have continued so, had it not been interrupted by your fruitless endeavors to tax them without their consent. But the mo- ment they perceived your intention was renewed to tax them, under a pretense of serving the East India Company, their resentment got the ascendant of their moderation, and hurried them into actions contrary to law, w^hich, in their cool- er hours, they would have thought on with hor- ror ; for I sincerely believe the destroying of the tea was the effect of despair. But, my Lords, from the complexion of the whole of the proceedings, I think that adminis- tration has purposely irritated them into those late violent acts, for which they now so severely smart, purposely to be revenged on them for the victory they gained by the repeal of the Stamp Act ; a measure in which they seemingly acqui- esced, but at the bottom they were its real ene- mies. For what other motive could induce them to dress taxation, that father of American sedi- tion, in the robes of an East India director, but to break in upon that mutual peace and harmony which then so happily subsisted between them and the mother country ? My Lords, I am an old man, and would advise the noble Lords in office to adopt a more gentle mode of governing America ; for the day is not far distant when America may vie with these kingdoms, not only in arms, but in arts also. It is an established fact that the principal towns in America are learned and polite, and understand the Constitution of the empire as well as the no- ble Lords who are now in office ; and, conse- quently, they will have a watchful eye over their liberties, to prevent the least encroachment on their hereditary rights. This observation is so recently exemplified in an excellent pamphlet, w^hieh comes from the pen of an American gentleman, that I shall take the liberty of reading to your Lordships his thoughts on the competency of the British Par- liament to tax America, which, in my opinion, puts this interesting matter in the clearest view. " The high court of Parliament," says he, " is the supreme legislative power over the whole empire ; in all free states the Constitution is fixed ; and as the supreme Legislature derives its power and authority from the Constitution, it can not overleap the bounds of it without de- stroying its own foundation. The Constitution ascertains and limits both sovereignty and alle- giance ; and therefore his Majesty's American subjects, who acknowledged themselves bound by the ties of allegiance, have an equitable claim to the full enjoyment of the fundamental rules of the English Constitution ; and that it is an es- sential, unalterable right in nature, ingrafted into the British Constitution as a fundamental law, and ever held sacred and irrevocable by the sub- jects within this realm, that what a man has honestly acquired is absolutely his own ; which he may freely give, but which can not be taken from him without his consent." This, my Lords, though no new doctrine, has always been my received and unalterable opin- ion, and I will carry it to my grave, that this country had no right under heaven to tax Amer- ica. It is contrary to all the principles of jus- tice and civil polity, w^hich neither the exigen- cies of the state, nor even an acquiescence in the taxes, could justify upon any occasion whatever. Such proceedings will never meet their wished- for success. Instead of adding to their miseries, as the bill now before you most undoubtedly does, adopt some lenient measures, which may lure them to their duty. Proceed like a kind and affectionate parent over a child whom he ten- derly loves, and, instead of those harsh and se- vere proceedings, pass an amnesty on all their youthful errors, clasp them once more in your fond and affectionate arms, and I will venture to affirm you will find them children worthy of their sire. But, should their turbulence exist after your proffered terms of forgiveness, which I hope and expect this House will immediately adopt, I will be among the foremost of your Lordships to move for such measures as will ef- fectually prevent a future relapse, and make them feel what it is to provoke a fond and for- giving parent ! a parent, my Lords, whose wel- fare has ever been my greatest and most pleas- ing consolation. This declaration may seem un- necessary ; but I will venture to declare, the pe- riod is not far distant when she will want the assistance of her most distant friends ; but should the all-disposing hand of Providence prevent me from affording her my poor assistance, my pray- ers shall be ever for her welfare — Length of 128 LORD CHATHAM ON [1775. days be in her right hand^ and in her left riches and honor ; may her ways be the ways of pleas- antness., and all her paths he peace ! Notwithstanding these warnings and remon- strances, the bill was passed by a majority of 57 to 16. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS TO HIS MAJESTY, TO GIVE IMMEDIATE ORDERS FOR REMOVING HIS TROOPS FROM BOSTON, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, JANUARY 20, 1773, INTRODUCTION. On the 20th of January, 1775, Lord Dartmouth, Secretary of State, laid before the House of Lords va- rious papers relathig to American affairs. Upon this occasion Lord Chatham moved an "address to his Majesty for the immediate removal of his troops from Boston," and supported it by the following speech. When he arose to speak, says one who witnessed the scene, "all was silence and profound attention. Animated, and almost inspired by his subject, he seemed to feel his own unrivaled superiority. His ven- erable figure, dignified and graceful in decay, his language, his voice, his gesture, were such as might, at this momentous crisis, big with the fate of Britain seem to characterize him as the guardian genius of his country." SPEECH, &o.' My Lords, — After more than six weeks' pos- session of the papers now before you, on a sub- ject so momentous, at a time when the fate of this nation hangs on every hour, the ministry have at length condescended to submit to the consideration of this House, intelligence from America with which your Lordships and the public have been long and fully acquainted. The measures of last year, my Lords, which have produced the present alarming state of America, were founded upon misrepresentation. They were violent, precipitate, and vindictive. The nation was told that it was only a faction in Boston which opposed all lawful government ; that an unw^arrantable injury had been done to private property, for which the justice of Parlia- ment was called upon to order reparation ; that the least appearance of firmness would awe the Americans into submission, and upon only pass- ing the Rubicon we should be " sine clade vic- tor."2 That the people might choose their repre- sentatives under the influence of those misrep- resentations, the Parliament was pi'ecipitately dissolved. Thus the nation was to be rendered instrumental in executing the vengeance of ad- ministration on that injured, unhappy, traduced people. But now, my Lords, we find that, instead of suppressing the opposition of the faction at Bos- ton, these measures have spread it over the whole continent. They have united that whole people by the most indissoluble of all bands — in- tolerable wrongs. The just retribution is an in- discriminate, unmerciful proscription of the inno- cent with the guilty, unheard and untried. The bloodless victory is an impotent general with his 1 This speech was reported by Mr. Hugh Boyd, a man of high literary attainments, and bears very strong marks of accuracy. * Victorious without slaughter. dishonored army, trusting solely to the pickax and the spade for security against the just indig- nation of an injured and insulted people. My Lords, I am happy that a relaxation of my infirmities permits me to seize this earliest op- portunity of offering my poor advice to save this unhappy country, at this moment tottering to its ruin. But, as I have not the honor of access to his Majesty, I will endeavor to transmit to him, through the constitutional channel of this House, my ideas on American business, to rescue him from the misadvice of his present ministers. I congratulate your Lordships that the business is at last entered upon by the noble Lord's [Lord Dartmouth] laying the papers before you. As I suppose your Lordships are too well apprised of their contents, I hope I am not premature in submitting to you my present motion. [The motion M^as read.] I wish, my Lords, not to lose a day in this ur- gent, pressing crisis. An hour now lost in allay- ing ferments in America may produce years of calamity. For my own part, I will not desert, for a moment, the conduct of this weighty busi- ness, from the first to the last. L^nlcss nailed to my bed by the extremity of sickness, I will give it unremitted attention. I will knock at the door of this sleeping and confounded ministry, and will rouse them to a sense of their danger. When I state the importance of the colonies to this countr}', and the magnitude of danger hang- ing over this country from the present plan of misadministration practiced against them, I de- sire not to be understood to argue for a reciproc- ity of indulgence between England and America. I contend not for indulgence, but justice to Amer- ica; and I shall ever contend that the Americans ! justly owe obedience to us in a limited degree — they owe obedience to our ordinances of trade i and navigation ; but let the line be skillfully drawn between the objects of those ordinances 1775] REMOVING TROOPS FROM BOSTON. 129 and theii" private internal property. Let the sa- credness of their property remain inviolate. Let it be taxable only by their own consent, given in their provincial assemblies, else it will cease to be property. As to the metaphysical refine- ments, attempting to show that the Americans are equally free from obedience and commercial restraints, as from taxation for revenue, as being unrepresented here, I pronounce them futile, friv- olous, and groundless. When I urge this measure of recalling the troops from Boston, I urge it on this pressing principle, that it is necessarily preparatory to the restoration of your peace and the establish- ment of your prosperity. It will then appear that you are disposed to treat amicably and eq- uitably ; and to consider, revise, and repeal, if it should be found necessary (as I affirm it will), those violent acts and declarations which have disseminated confusion throughout your empire. Resistance to your acts was necessary as it was just ; and your vain declarations of the om- nipotence of Parliament, and your imperious doc- trines of the necessity of submission, will be found equally impotent to convince or to enslave your fellow-subjects in America, who feel that tyranny, whether ambitioncd by an individual part of the Legislature, or the bodies who compose it, is equally intolerable to British subjects. The means of enforcing this thraldom are found to be as ridiculous and weak in practice as they are unjust in principle. Indeed, I can not but feel the most anxious sensibility for the situation of General Gage, and the troops under his command ; thinking him, as I do, a man of humanity and understanding ; and entertaining, as I ever will, the highest respect, the w^armest love for the British ti-oops. Their situation is truly unworthy ; penned up — pining in inglorious inactivity. They are an army of impotence. You may call them an army of safety and of guard ; but they are, in truth, an army of impo- tence and contempt ; and, to make the folly equal to the disgrace, they are an army of irritation and vexation. But I find a report creeping abroad that min- isters censure General Gage's inactivity. Let them censure him — it becomes them — it be- comes their justice and their honor. I mean not to censure his inactivity. It is a prudent and necessary inaction ; but it is a miserable condi- tion, where disgrace is prudence, and where it is necessary to be contemptible. This tameness, however contemptible, can not be censured ; for the first drop of blood shed in civil and unnatu- ral war might be " immedicabile vulnus."^ I therefore urge and conjure your Lordships immediately to adopt this conciliating measure. I will pledge myself for its immediately produc- ing conciliatory effects, by its being thus well timed ; but if yon delay till your vain hope shall be accomplished of triumphantly dictating rec- ^ Nil prosunt artes All arts are vain; Ovid's Metamorphoses, book I erat immedicabile vulnus. incurable the wound. onciliation, you delay forever. But, admitting that this hope (which in truth is desperate) should be accomplished, w^hat do you gain by the imposition of your victorious amity ? You will be untrusted and unthanked. Adopt, then, the grace, while you have the opportunity, of recon- cilement — or at least prepare the way. Allay the ferment prevailing in America, by removing the obnoxious hostile cause — obnoxious and un- serviceable ; for their merit can be only inaction : " Non dimicare est vincere,"* their victory can never be by exertions. Their force would be most disproportionately exerted against a brave, generous, and united people, with arms in their hands, and courage in their hearts : three mill- ions of people, the genuine descendants of a valiant and pious ancestry, driven to those deserts by the narrow maxims of a superstitious tyranny. And is the spirit of persecution never to be ap- peased ? Are the brave sons of those brave forefathers to inherit their sufferings, as they have inherited their virtues ? Are they to sus- tain the infliction of the most oppressive and un- exampled severity, beyond the accounts of his- tory or description of poetry : " Rhadamanthus habet durissima regna, castigatque audit que. ''''^ So says the wisest poet, and perhaps the wisest statesman and politician. But our ministers say the Americans must not be heard. They have been condemned unheard. The indiscriminate hand of vengeance has lumped together innocent and guilty ; with all the formalities of hostility, has blocked up the town [Boston], and reduced to beggary and famine thirty thousand inhabit- ants. But his Majesty is advised that the union in America can not last. Ministers have more eyes than I, and should have more ears ; but, with all the information I have been able to pro- cure, I can pronounce it a union solid, perma- nent, and effectual. Ministers may satisfy them- selves, and delude the public, with the report of what they call commercial bodies in America. They are not commercial. They are your pack- ers and factors. They live upon nothing, for I call commission nothing. I speak of the minis- terial authority for this American intelligence — the runners for government, who are paid for their intelligence. But these are not the men, nor this the influence, to be considered in Amer- ica, when we estimate the firmness of their union. Even to extend the question, and to take in the * Not to fight is to conquei'. ^ The passage is from the iEneid of Virgil, book vi., 366-7. Gnosius hoec Rhadamanthus habet durissima regna, Castigatque auditque dolos. O'er these dire realms The Cretan Rhadamanthus holds his sway, And lashes guilty souls, whose wiles and crimes He hears. Lord Chatham, from the order of the words, gives them an ingenious turn, as if the punishment came before the hearing ; which was certainly true of jus- tice as then administered in America, though not iu the infernal regions of Virgil. 130 LORD CHATHAM ON [1775. really mercantile circle, will be totally inade- quate to the consideration. Trade, indeed, in- creases the wealth and glory of a country ; but its real strength and stamina are to be looked for among the culiivators of the land. In their sim- plicity of life is found the simpleness of virtue — the integrity and courage of freedom. These true, genuine sons of the eaith are invincible ; and they surround and hem in the mercantile bodies, even if these bodies (which supposition I totally disclaim) could be supposed disaffected to the cause of liberty. Of this general spirit existing in the British nation (for so I wish to distinguish the real and genuine Americans from the pseudo-traders I have described) — of this spirit of independence, animating the nation of America, I have the most authentic information. It is not new among them. It is, and has ever been, their established principle, their confirmed persuasion. It is their nature and their doctrine. I remember, some years ago, when the repeal of the Stamp Act was in agitation, conversing in a friendly confidence with a person of undoubted respect and authenticity, on that subject, and he assured me with a certainty which his judgment and opportunity gave him, that these were the prevalent and steady principles of America — that you might destroy their towns, and cut them off from the superfluities, perhaps the conveniences of life, but that they were prepared to despise your power, and would not lament their loss, while they have — what, my Lords ? — their woods and their liberty. The name of my authority, if I am called upon, will authenticate the opinion irrefragably.^ If illegal violences have been, as it is said, committed in America, prepare the way, open the door of possibility for acknowledgment and satisfaction ; but proceed not to such coercion, such proscription ; cease your indiscriminate in- flictions ; amerce not thirty thousand — oppress not three millions for the fault of forty or fifty individuals. Such severity of injustice must for- ever render incurable the wounds you have al- ready given your colonies ; you irritate them to unappeasable rancor. What though you march from town to town, and from province to prov- ince ; though you should be able to enforce a temporary and local submission (which I only suppose, not admit), how shall you be able to se- cure the obedience of the country you leave be- hind you in your progress, to grasp the dominion of eighteen hundred miles of continent, populous in numbers, possessing valor, liberty, and resist- ance ? This resistance to your arbitrary system of taxation might have been foreseen. It was ob- vious from the nature of things, and of mankind ; and, above all, from the Whiggish spirit flourish- ing in that country'. The spirit which now re- sists your taxation in America is the same which formerly opposed loans, benevolences, and ship- money in England ; the same spirit which called all England "on its legs," and by the Bill of It was Dr. Franklin. Rights vindicated the English Constitution ; the same spirit which established the great funda- mental, essential maxim of your liberties, that no subject of England shall be taxed but by his own consent. This glorious spii'it of Whiggism animates three millions in America, who prefer poverty with liberty, to gilded chains and sordid afllu- ence ; and who will die in defense of their rights as men, as freemen. What shall oppose this spirit, aided by the congenial flame glowing in the breast of every Whig in England, to the amount, I hope, of double the American num- bers ? Ireland they have to a man. In that country, joined as it is with the cause of the colo- nies, and placed at their head, the distinction I contend for is and must be observed. This coun- try superintends and controls their trade and nav- igation ; but they tax themselves. And this dis- tinction between extei'nal and internal control is sacred and insurmountable ; it is involved in the abstract nature of things. Property is private, individual, absolute. Trade is an extended and complicated consideration : it reaches as far as ships can sail or winds can blow : it is a great and various machine. To regulate the number- less movements of its several parts, and combine them into effect for the good of the whole, re- quires the superintending wisdom and energy of the supreme power in the empire. But this su- preme power has no effect toward internal taxa- tion ; for it does not exist in that relation ; there is no such thing, no such idea in this Constitu- tion, as a supreme power operating upon proper- ty. Let this distinction then remain forever as- certained ; taxation is theirs, commercial regu- lation is ours. As an American, I would recog- nize to England her supreme right of regulating commerce and navigation ; as an Englishman by birth and principle, I recognize to the Americans their supreme, unalienable right in their proper- ty : a right vv'hich they are justified in the de- fense of to the last extremity. To maintain this principle is the common cause of the Whigs on the other side of the Atlantic and on this. " 'Tis liberty to liberty engaged," that they will defend themselves, their families, and their coun- try. In this great cause they are immovably allied : it is the alliance of God and nature — immutable, eternal — fixed as the firmament of heaven. To such united force, what force shall be op- posed ? What, my Lords ? A few regiments in America, and seventeen or eighteen thousand men at home ! The idea is too ridiculous to take up a moment of your Lordships' time. Nor can such a national and principled union be re- sisted by the tricks of olfice, or ministerial ma- neuver. Laying of papers on your table, or counting numbers on a division, will not avert or postpone the hour of danger. It must arrive, my Lords, unless these fatal acts are done away; it must arrive in all its horrors, and then these boastful ministers, spite of all their confidence and all their maneuvers, shall be forced to hide their heads. They shall be forced to a disgrace- 1775] REMOVING TROOPS FROM BOSTON. 131 fal iibanclonment of their present measures and principles, which they avow, but can not defend ; measures which they presume to attempt, but can not hope to effectuate. They can not, my Lords, they can not stir a step -, they have not a move left ; they are check-mated ! But it is not repealing this act of Parliament, it is not repealing a piece of parchment, that can restore America to our bosom. You must repeal her fears and her resentments, and you may then hope for her love and gratitude. But now, insulted with an armed force posted at Boston, irritated with a hostile array before her eyes, her concessions, if you could force them, would be suspicious and insecure ; they will be " irato animo"' [with an angry spirit] ; they will not be the sound, honorable passions of freemen ; they will be the dictates of fear and extortions of force. But it is more than evident that you can not force them, united as they are, to your unworthy terms of submission. It is impossible. And when I hear General Gage censured for in- activity, I must retort with indignation on those whose intemperate measures and improvident counsels have betrayed him into his present situ- ation. His situation reminds me, my Lords, of the answer of a French general in the civil wars of France — Monsieur Conde opposed to Mon- sieur Turenne. He was asked how it happened that he did not take his adversary prisoner, as he was often very near him. " J'ai peur," re- plied Conde, very honestly, "j'ai peur qu'il ne me prenne;" Fm afraid he'll take me. When your Lordships look at the papers transmitted us from America — when you con- sider their decency, firmness, and wisdom, you can not but respect their cause, and wish to make it your own. For myself, I must declare and avow, that in all my reading and observation — and it has been my favorite study — I have read Thucydides, and have studied and admired the master-states of the world — that for solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of con- clusion, under such a complication of difficult circumstances, no nation or body of men can stand in preference to the general Congress at Philadelphia. I trust it is obvious to your Lord- ships that all attempts to impose servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty continental nation, must be vain, must be ffvtal. We shall be forced ultimately to retract ; let us retract while we can, not when we must. I say we must necessarily undo these violent, oppressive acts.' They must be repealed. You will repeal them. I pledge myself for it, that you will, in the end, repeal them. I stake my reputation on it. I will consent to be taken for an idiot if they are not finally repealed.^ Avoid, then, this humiliating, disgraceful necessity. With a dignity becoming your exalted situation, make the first advances to concord, to peace, and happiness ; for that is your true dignity, to act with prudence and justice. That you sliould first concede is obvious, from sound and rational policy. Concession comes with better grace and more salutary effect from superior power. It reconciles superiority of power with the feelings of men, and establishes solid confidence on the foundations of affection and gratitude. So thought a wise poet and a wise man in political sagacity — the friend of Mecffinas, and the eulogist of Augustus. To him, the adopted son and successor of the first Cesar — to him, the master of the world, he wisely urged this con- duct of prudence and dignity : "Tuque prior, tii parce ; projice tela manu."^ Every motive, therefore, of justice and of pol> icy, of dignity and of prudence, urges you to al- lay the ferment in America by a removal of your troops from Boston, by a repeal of your acts of Parliament, and by demonstration of am- icable dispositions toward your colonies. On the other hand, every danger and every hazard impend to deter you from perseverance in your 7 The Boston Povt Bill, and the act taking away the charter of Massachusetts. * This prediction was verified. After a war of three years, a repeal of these acts was sent out to propitiate the Americans, but it was too late. 9 If Lord Chatham's memory had not failed him in respect to these words, his taste and genius would have suggested a still finer turn. They were addressed, not by Virgil to Augustus Cesar, but to a parent advancing in arms against a child ; and would, therefore, have been applied with double force and beauty to the contest of England against America. The words are taken from that splendid passage at the close of the sixth book of Virgil's ^neid, where Anchises is showing to jEneas, in the world of spirits, the souls of those who were destined to pass within " the gates of life," and to swell, as his descendants, the long line of Roman greatness. After pointing out the Decii and Drusii, Torquatus with his bloody ax, and Camillus with his standards of glory, he comes at last to Julius Ce- sar, and Pompey, his son-in-law, preparing for the battle of Pharsalia. As if the conflict might yet be averted, he addresses his future children, and e\y treats them not to turn their arms against their country's vitals. He appeals especially to Cesar as "descended from Olympian Jove," and exhorts him "Tuque prior, tu parce ; projice tela manu." Illge autem, paribus quas fulgere cernis in armis, Concordes animce nunc et dum nocte prementur, Heu ! quantum inter se bellum, si limina vitffi Attingerint, quantas acies stragemque ciebunt, Aggeribus socer Alpinis atque arce Monoeci Descendens, gener adversis instructus Eois ! Ne, pueri, ue tanta animis assuecite bella; Neu patriae validas in viscera vertite vires ! Tuque prior, tu parce, genus qui ducis Olympo ; Projice tela inanu, sanguis mens ! — 826-835. Those forms which now thou seest in equal arms Shining afar — united souls while here Beneath the realm of night — what fields of blood And mutual slaughter shall mark out their course, If once they pass within the Gates of Life ! See, from the Alpine heights the father comes Down by Monaco's tower, to meet the son Equipped with hostile legions from the East. Nay ! nay, my children ! Train not thus your minds To scenes of blood ! Tura not those arms of strength Against your country's vitals ! Thou ! thou, descended from Olympian Jove ! Be first to spare ! Son of my blood ! cast down Those weapons from thy hand ! 133 LORD CHATHAM ON [1777. present ruinous measures. Foreign war hang- ing over your heads by a slight and brittle thread ; France and Spain watching your con- duct, and waiting for the maturity of your er- rors, with a vigilant eye to America and the temper of your colonies, more than to their own concerns, be they what they may. To conclude, my Lords, if the ministers thus persevere in misadvising and misleading the King, I will not say that they can alienate the affections of his subjects from his crown, but I will affirm that they will make the crown not worth his wearing. I will not say that the King is betrayed, but I will pronounce that the king- dom is undone. The motion, after a vote of 68 to 18. long debate, was lost by SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS TO THE CROWN, TO PUT A STOP TO HOS- TILITIES IN AMERICA, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, MAY 30, 177r. INTRODUCTION. Lord Chatham had now been prevented by his infirmities from taking his place in the House of Lords for more than two years. Anxious to make one effort more for ending the contest with America, he made his appearance in the House on the 30th of May, 1777, wrapped in flannels, and supported on crutches, and moved an address to the King, recommending that speedy and effectual measures be taken to put an end to the war between the colonies and the mother country. He spoke as follows : SPEECH, &c. My Lords, this is a flying moment ; perhaps but six weeks left to arrest the dangers that sur- round us. The gathering storm may break ; it has already opened, and in part burst. It is difficult for government, after all that has pass- ed, to shake hands with detiers of the King, de- fiers of the Parliament, defiers of the people. I am a defier of nobody ; but if an end is not put to this war, there is an end to this country. I do not trust my judgment in my present state of health ; this is the judgment of my better days — the result of forty years' attention to America. They are rebels ; but for what ? Surely not for defending their unquestionable rights ! What have these rebels done heretofore ? I remem- ber when they raised lour regiments on their own bottom, and took Louisbourg from the vet- eran troops of France. But their excesses have been great : I do not mean their panegyric ; but must observe, in extenuation, the erroneous and infatuated counsels which have pi'evailed ; the door to mercy and justice has been shut against them ; but they may still be taken up upon the grounds of their former submission. [Referring to their petition.] I state to you the importance of Amei'ica : it is a double market — the market of consumption, and the market of supply. This double market for millions, with naval stores, you are giving to your hereditary rival. America has carried you through four wars, and will now carry you to your death, if you don't take things in time. In the sportsman's phrase, when you have found yourselves at fault, you must try back. You have ransacked every corner of Lower Saxony ; but forty thousand German boors never can con- quer ten times the number of British freemen. You may ravage — you can not conquer ; it is impossible ; you can not conquer the Americans. You talk, my Lords, of your numerous friends among them to annihilate the Congress, and of your powerful forces to disperse their army. I inight as ivell talk of driving them before me with this crutch! But what would you conquer — > the map of America ? I am ready to meet any general officer on the subject [looking at Lord Amherst.] What will you do out of the pro- tection of your fleet ? In the winter, if togeth- er, they are starved ; and if dispersed, they are taken off in detail. I am experienced in spring hopes and vernal promises ; I know what minis- ters throw out ; but at last will come your equi- noctial disappointment. You have got nothing in America but stations. You have been three years teaching them the art of war ; they are apt scholai's ; and I will venture to tell your Lordships that the American gentry will make officers enough, fit to command the troops of all the European powers. What you have sent there are too many to make peace — too few to make war. If you conquer them, what then ? You can not make them respect you ; you can not make them wear your cloth ; you will plant an invincible hatred in their breasts against you. Coming from the stock they do, they can never respect you. If ministers are founded in saying there is no sort of treaty with France, there is still a moment left ; the point of honor is still safe. France must be as self-destroying as En- gland, to make a treaty while you are giving her America, at the expense of twelve millions a year. The intercourse has produced every thing to France ; and England, Old England, must pay for all. I have, at difTcrent times, made dif- ferent propositions, adapted to the circumstances in which they were offered. The plan contain- ed in the former bill is now impracticable ; the present motion will tell you where you are, and what you have now to depend upon. It may produce a respectable division in America, and 1777] HOSTILITIES WITH AMERICA. 133 unanimity at home ; it will give America an op- tion ; she has yet had no option. You have said, Lay down your arms; and she has given you the Spartan answer, "Come, take." [Here he read his motion.] " That an humble address be presented to his Majesty, most dutifully rep- resenting to his royal wisdom that this House is deeply penetrated with the view of impending ruin to the kingdom, from the continuation of an unnatural war against the British colonies in America ; and most humbly to advise his Maj- esty to take the most speedy and effectual meas- ures for putting a stop to such fatal hostilities, upon the only just and solid foundation, namely, the removal of accumulated grievances ; and to assure his Majesty that this House will enter upon this great and necessary work with cheer- fulness and dispatch, in order to open to his Maj- esty the only means of regaining the affections of the British colonies, and of securing to Great Britain the commercial advantages of these val- uable possessions ; fully persuaded that to heal and to redress will be more congenial to the goodness and magnanimity of his Majesty, and more prevalent over the hearts of generous and free-born subjects, than the rigoi's of chastisement and the horrors of a civil war, which hitherto have served only to sharpen resentments and consolidate union, and, if continued, must end in finally dissolving all ties between Great Britain and the colonies." [His Lordship rose again.] The proposal, he said, is specific. I thought this so clear, that I did not enlarge upon it. I mean the redress of all their grievances, and the right of disposing of their own money. This is to be done instan- taneously. I will get out of my bed to move it on Monday. This will be the herald of peace ; this will open the way for treaty ; this will show Parliament sincerely disposed. Yet still much must be left to treaty. Should you conquer this people, you conquer under the cannon of France — under a masked battery then ready to open. The moment a treaty with France appears, you must declare war, though you had only five ships of the line in England ; but France will defer a treaty as long as possible. You are now at the mercy of every little German chancery ; and the pretensions of France will increase daily, so as to become an avowed party in either peace or war. We have tried for unconditional submis- sion ; try what can be gained by unconditional redress. Less dignity will be lost in the repeal, than in submitting to the demands of German chanceries. We are the aggressors. We have invaded them. We have invaded them as much as the Spanish Armada invaded England. Mer- cy can not do harm ; it will seat the King where he ought to be, throned on the hearts of his peo- ple ; and millions at home and abroad, now em- ployed in obloquy or revolt, would pray for him. [In making his motion for addressing the King, Lord Chatham insisted frequently and strongly on the absolute necessity of immediately making peace with America. Now, he said, was the crisis, before France was a party to the treaty. This was the only moment left before the fate of this country was decided. The French court, he observed, was too wise to lose the opportunity of effectually separating America from the do- minions of this kingdom. War between France and Great Britain, he said, was not less probable because it had not yet been declared. It would be folly in France to declare it now, while Amer- ica gave full employment to our arms, and was pouring into her lap her wealth and produce, the benefit of which she was enjoying in peace. He enlarged much on the importance of Amer- ica to this country, which, in peace and in war, he observed, he ever considered as the great source of all our wealth and power. He then added (x-aising his voice), Your trade languishes, your taxes increase, your revenues diminish. France at this moment is securing and drawing to herself that commerce which created your seamen, fed your islands, &c. He reprobated the measures which produced, and which had been pursued in the conduct of the civil war, in the severest language ; infatuated measures giv- ing rise to, and still continuing a cruel, unnatural, self-destroying war. Success, it is said, is hoped for in this campaign. Why ? Because our army will be as strong this year as it was last, when it was not strong enough. The notion of con- quering America he treated with the greatest contempt. After an animated debate, in which the mo- tion was opposed by Lords Gower, Lyttelton, Mansfield, and Weymouth, and the Archbishop of York, and supported by the Dukes of Grafton and INIanchester, Lord Camden and Shelburne, and the Bishop of Peterborough, The Earl of Chatham again rose, and in reply to what had fallen from Lord Weymouth, said :J My Lords, I perceive the noble Lord neither ap- prehends my meaning, nor the explanation given by me to the noble Earl [Earl Gower] in the blue ribbon, who spoke earl}-^ in the debate 1 will, therefore, with your Lordships' permission, state shortly what I meant. My Lords, my motion was stated generally, that I might leave the ques- tion at large to be amended by your Lordships. I did not dare to point out the specific means. I drew the motion up to the best of my poor abilities ; but I intended it only as the herald of conciliation, as the harbinger of peace to our af- flicted colonies. But as the noble Lord seems to wish for something more specific on the sub- ject, and through that medium seeks my partic- ular sentiments, I will tell your Lordships very fairly what I wish for. I wish for a repeal of every oppressive act which your Lordships have passed since 1763. I would put our brethren in America precisely on the same footing they stood at that period. I would expect, that, being left at liberty to tax themselves, and dispose of their own property, they would, in return, contrib- ute to the common burdens according to their means and abilities. I will move your Lordships for a bill of repeal, as the only means left to arm- rest that approaching destruction which threat- ens to overw^helm us. My Lords, I shall no 134 LORD CHATHAM ON AN [1777. doubt hear it objected, " Why should we submit or concede ? Has America done any thing on her part to induce us to agree to so large a ground of concession ?" I will tell you, my Lords, why I think you should. You have been the aggressors from the beginning. I shall not trouble your Lordships with the particulars ; they have been stated and enforced by the noble and learned Lord who spoke last but one (Lord Camden), in a much more able and distinct man- ner than I could pretend to state them. If, then, we are the aggressors, it is your Lordships' bu- siness to make the first overture. I say again, this country has been the aggressor. You have made descents upon their coasts ; you have burn- ed their towns, plundered then* country, made war upon the inhabitants, confiscated their prop- erty, proscribed and imprisoned their persons. I do therefore affirm, my Lords, that instead of exacting unconditional submission from the col- onies, we should grant them unconditional re- dress. We have injui-ed them ; we have en- deavored to enslave and oppress them. Upon this ground, my Lords, instead of chastisement, they are entitled to redress. A repeal of those laws, of which they complain, will be the first step to that redress. The people of America look upon Parliament as the authors of their mis- eries ; their affections are estranged from their sovereign. Let, then, reparation come from the hands that inflicted the injuries ; let conciliation succeed chastisement ; and I do maintain, that Pai'liament will again recover its authority ; that his Majesty will be once more enthroned in the hearts of his American subjects ; and that your Lordships, as contributing to so great, glorious, salutary, and benignant a work, will receive the prayers and benedictions of every part of the British empire. The motion was lost by a vote of 99 to 28. SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM ON A MOTION FOR AN ADDRESS TO THE THRONE, AT THE OPENING OF PARLIAMENT, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, NOVEMBER 18, 1777. INTRODUCTION. This was Lord Chatham's greatest effort. Though sinking under the weight of years and disease, he seems animated by all the fire of youth. It would, indeed, be diflBcult to find in the whole range of par- liamentary history a more splendid blaze of genius, at once rapid, vigorous, and sublime. SPEECH, &c/ I RISE, my Lords, to declare my sentiments on this most solemn and serious subject. It has imposed a load upon my mind, which, I fear, nothing can remove, but which impels me to en- deavor its alleviation, by a free and unreserved communication of my sentiments. In the first part of the address, I have the honor of heartily concurring with the noble Earl who moved it. No man feels sincerer joy than I do ; none can oflTer more genuine congratula- tions on every accession of strength to the Prot- estant succession. I therefore join in every con- gratulation on the birth of another princess, and the happy recovery of her Majesty. But I must stop here. My courtly complai- sance will carry me no farther. I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. I can not concur in a blind and servile address, which approves, and endeavors to sanctify the monstrous measures which have heaped disgrace and misfortune upon us. This, my Lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment! It is not a time for adulation. The smoothness of flattery can not now avail — can not save us in this rug- ged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to in- struct the Throne in the language of truth. We must dispel the illusion and the darkness which 1 This was reported by Hugh Boyd, and is said to have been corrected by Lord Chatham himself. envelop it, and display, in its full danger and true colors, the ruin that is brought to our doors. This, my Lords, is our duty. It is the proper function of this noble assembly, sitting, as we do, upon our honors in this House, the hereditary council of the Crown. Who is the minister — where is the minister, that has dared to suggest to the Throne the contrary, unconstitutional lan- guage this day delivered from it ? The accus- tomed language from the Throne has been ap- plication to Parliament for advice, and a reliance on its constitutional advice and assistance. As it is the right of Parliament to give, so it is the duty of the Crown to ask it. But on this day, and in this extreme momentous exigency, no re- liance is reposed on our constitutional counsels ! no advice is asked from the sober and enlighten- ed care of Parliament ! but the Crown, from it- I self and by itself, declares an unalterable de- termination to pursue measures — and what measures, my Lords ? The measures that have produced the imminent perils that threaten us ; j the measures that have brought ruin to our doors. j Can the minister of the day now presume to j expect a continuance of support in this ruinous I infatuation ? Can Parliament be so dead to its ' dignity and its duty as to be thus deluded into I the loss of the one and the violation of the other? ! To give an unlimited credit and support for the I steady perseverance in measures not proposed 1777.] ADDRESS TO THE THRONE. 135 for our parliamentary advice, but dictated and forced upon us — in measures, I say, my Lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire to ruin and contempt ! " But yesterday, and England might have stood against the world : now none so poor to do her reverence."^ I use the words of a poet ; but, though it be poetry, it is no fiction. It is a shameful truth, that not only the power and strength of this country are wasting away and expiring, but her well-earned glories, her true honor, and substantial dignity are sacrificed. France, my Lords, has insulted you ; she has encouraged and sustained America ; and, wheth- er America be wrong or right, the dignity of this country ought to spurn at the officious insult of French interference. The ministers and embas- sadors of those who are called rebels and enemies are in Paris ; in Paris they transact the recip- rocal interests of America and France. Can there be a more mortifying insult ? Can even our ministers sustain a more humiliating dis- grace ? Do they dare to resent it ? Do they presume even to hint a vindication of their hon- or, and the dignity of the state, by requiring the dismission of the plenipotentiaries of America? Such is the degradation to which they have re- duced the glories of England ! The people whom they affect to call contemptible rebels, but whose growing power has at last obtained the name of enemies ; the people with whom they have engaged this country in war, and against whom they now command our implicit support in every measure of desperate hostility — this people, despised as rebels, or acknow^ledged as enemies, are abetted against you, supplied with every military store, their interests consult- ed, and their embassadors entertained, by your inveterate enemy ! and our ministers dare not interpose with dignity or effect. Is this the honor of a great kingdom ? Is this the indig- nant spirit of England, who "but yesterday" gave law to the house of Bourbon ? My Lords, the dignity of nations demands a decisive con- duct in a situation like this. Even when the greatest prince that perhaps this country ever saw, filled our throne, the requisition of a Span- ish general, on a similar subject, was attended to, and complied with ; for, on the spirited remon- strance of the Duke of Alva, Elizabeth found herself obliged to deny the Flemish exiles all countenance, support, or even entrance into her dominions ; and the Count Le Marque, with his few desperate followers, were expelled the king- dom. Happening to arrive at the Brille, and finding it weak in defense, they made themselves masters of the place ; and this was the founda- tion of the United Provinces. My Lords, this ruinous and ignominious situ- ation, where we can not act with success, nor suffer with honor, calls upon us to remonstrate in the strongest and loudest language of truth. 2 " But yesterday the word of Cesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence." Julius Cesar, Act III., Sc. 6. to rescue the ear of majesty from the delusions which surround it. The desperate state of our arms abroad is in part known. No man thinks more highly of them than I do. I love and honor the English troops. I know their virtues and their valor. I know they can achieve any thing except impossibilities ; and I know that the con- quest of English America is an impossibility . You can not, I venture to say it, you can not con- quer America. Your armies last war effected every thing that could be effected ; and what was it ? It cost a numerous army, under the command of a most able general [Lord Amherst], now a noble Lord in this House, a long and la- borious campaign, to expel five thousand French- men from French America. My Lords, you can not conquer America. What is your present situation there ? We do not know the worst ; but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing and suffered much. Besides the sufferings, perhaps total loss of the Northern force,^ the best appointed army that ever took the field, commanded by Sir William Howe, has retired from the American lines. He was obliged to relinquish his attempt, and with great delay and danger to adopt a new and distant plan of operations. We shall soon know, and in any event have reason to lament, what may have happened since. As to conquest, therefore, my Lords, I repeat, it is impossible. You may swell every expense and every efl"ort still more ex- travagantly; pile and accumulate every assist- ance you can buy or borrow ; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a for- eign prince ; your efforts are forever vain and impotent — doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely ; for it irritates, to an incura- ble resentment, the minds of your enemies, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty ! If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms — never — never — never. Your own army is infected with the contagion of these illiberal allies. The spirit of plunder and of rapine is gone forth among them. I know it ; and, notwithstanding w^hat the noble Earl [Lord Percy] who moved the address has given as his opinion of the American army, I know from authentic information, and the most experienced officers, that our discipline is deeply wounded. While this is notoriously our sinking situation, America grows and flourishes ; while our strength and discipline are lowered, hers are rising and improving. But, my Lords, who is the man that, in addi- tion to these disgraces and mischiefs of our army, has dared to authorize and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage ? to call into civilized alliance the wild and inha- man savage of the woods ; to delegate to the merciless Indian the defense of disputed rights, and to wage the horrors of his barbarous war 3 General Burgoyne's army. 136 LORD CHATHAM ON AN [1777. against our brethren ? My Lords, these enor- mities cry aloud for redress and punishment. Unless thoroughly done away, it will be a stain on the national character. It is a violation of the Constitution. I believe it is against law. It is not the least of our national misfortunes that the strength and character of our army are thus impaired. Infected with the mercenary spirit of robbery and rapine ; familiarized to the horrid scenes of savage cruelty, it can no longer boast of the noble and generous principles w^hich dignify a soldier ; no longer sympathize with the dignity of the royal banner, nor feel the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war, " that make ambition virtue !" What makes ambition virtue ? — the sense of honor. But is the sense of honor consistent with a spirit of plunder, or the practice of murder ? Can it flow from mer- cenary motives, or can it prompt to cruel deeds ? Besides these murderers and plunderers, let me ask our ministers, What other allies have they acquired ? What other powers have they asso- ciated to their cause ? Have they entered into alliance with the king of the gipsies ? Nothing, my Lords, is too low or too ludicrous to be con- sistent with their counsels. The independent views of America have been stated and asserted as the foundation of this ad- dress. My Lords, no man wishes for the due dependence of America on this country more than I do. To preserve it, and not confirm that state of independence into which your measures hitherto have driven them^ is the object which we ought to unite in attaining. The Americans, contending for their rights against arbitrary ex- actions, I love and admire. It is the struggle of free and virtuous patriots. But, contending for independency and total disconnection from En- gland, as an Englishman, I can not wish them success ; for in a due constitutional depend- ency, including the ancient supremacy of this country in regulating their commerce and navi- gation, consists the mutual happiness and pros- perity both of England and America. She de- rived assistance and protection from us ; and we reaped from her the most important advantages. She was, indeed, the fountain of our wealth, the nerve of our strength, the nursery and basis of our naval power. It is our duty, therefore, my Lords, if we wish to save our country, most se- riously to endeavor the recovery of these most beneficial subjects ; and in this perilous crisis, perhaps the present moment may be the only one in which we can hope for success. For in their negotiations with France, they have, or think they have, reason to complain; though it be notorious that they have received from that power important supplies and assistance of va- rious kinds, yet it is certain they expected it in a more decisive and immediate degree. Amer- ica is in ill humor with France ; on some points they have not entirely answered her expecta- tions. Let us wisely take advantage of every possible moment of reconciliation. Besides, the natural disposition of America herself still leans toward England ; to the old habits of connection and mutual interest that united both countries. This ivas the established sentiment of all the Continent ; and still, my Lords, in the great and piincipal part, the sound part of America, this wise and affectionate disposition prevails. And there is a very considerable part of America yet sound — the middle aud the southern provinces. Some parts may be factious and blind to their true interests ; but if we express a wise and benevolent disposition to commuuicate with them those immutable rights of nature and those con- stitutional liberties to which they are equally entitled with ourselves, by a conduct so just and humane we shall confirm the favorable and con- ciliate the adverse. I say, my Lords, the rights and liberties to which they are equally entitled with ourselves, but no more. I would partici- pate to them every enjoyment and freedom which the colonizing subjects of a free state can pos- sess, or wish to possess ; and I do not see why they should not enjoy every fundamental right in their property, and every original substantial liberty, which Devonshire, or Surrey, or the coun- ty I live in, or any other county in England, can claim ; reserving always, as the sacred right of the mother country', the due constitutional de- pendency of the colonies. The inherent suprem- acy of the state in regulating and protecting the navigation and commerce of all her subjects, is necessary for the mutual benefit and preserva- tion of every part, to constitute and preserve the prosperous arrangement of the whole empire. The sound parts of America, of w'hich I have spoken, must be sensible of these great truths and of their real interests. America is not in that state of desperate and contemptible rebell- ion which this country has been deluded to be- lieve. It is not a wild and lawless banditti, who, having nothing to lose, might hope to snatch something from public convulsions. Many of their leaders and great men have a great stake in this great contest. The gentleman who con- ducts their armies, I am told, has an estate of four or five thousand pounds a year ; and when I consider these things, I can not but lament the inconsiderate violence of our penal acts, our dec- larations of treason and rebellion, with all the fatal effects of attainder and confiscation. As to the disposition of foreign powers which is asserted [in the King's speech] to be pacific and friendly, let us judge, my Lords, rather by their actions and the nature of things than by interested assertions. The uniform assistance supplied to America by France, suggests a dif- ferent conclusion. The most important interests of France in aggrandizing and enriching herself with what she most wants, supplies of every naval store from America, must inspire her with different sentiments. The extraordinary prep- arations of the house of Boui-bon, by land and by sea, from Dunkirk to the Straits, equally ready and willing to overwhelm these defenseless isl- ands, should rouse us to a sense of their real dis- position and our own danger. Not five thou- sand troops in England ! hardly three thousand in Ireland ! What can we oppose to the com- ^ ^„....^k 1777.] ADDRESS TO THE THRONE. 137 bined force of our enemies ? Scarcely twenty ships of the line so fully or sufficiently manned, that any admiral's reputation would permit him to take the command of. The river of Lisbon in the possession of our enemies ! The seas swept by American privateers ! Our Channel trade torn to pieces by them ! In this complicated crisis of danger, weakness at home, and calamity abroad, terrified and insulted by the neijrhboring powers, unable to act in America, or acting only to be destroyed, where is the man with the fore- head to promise or hope for success in such a situation, or from perseverance in the measures that have driven us to it ? Who has the fore- head to do so ? Where is that man ? I should be glad to see his face. You can not conciliate America by your pres- ent measures. You can not subdue her by your present or by any measures. What, then, can you do ? You can not conquer ; you can not gain ; but you can address ; you can lull the fears and anxieties of the moment into an igno- rance of the danger that should produce them. But, my Lords, the time demands the language of truth. We must not now apply the flattering unction of servile compliance or blind complais- ance. In a just and necessary war, to maintain the rights or honor of my country, I would strip the shirt from my back to support it. But in such a war as this, unjust in its principle, im- practicable in its means, and ruinous in its con- sequences, I would not contribute a single effort nor a single shilling. I do not call for venge- ance on the heads of those who have been guilty ; I only recommend to them to make their retreat. Let them walk off; and let them make haste, or they may be assured that speedy and condign punishment w^ill overtake them. My Lords, I have submitted to you, with the freedom and truth which 1 think my duty, my sentiments on your present awful situation. I have laid before you the ruin of }-our power, the disgrace of your reputation, the pollution of your discipline, the contamination of your morals, the complication of calamities, foreign and domestic, that overwhelm your sinking country. Your dearest interests, your own liberties, the Consti- tution itself, totters to the foundation. All this disgraceful danger, this multitude of misery, is the monstrous offspring of this unnatural war. We have been deceived and deluded too long. Let us now stop short. This is the crisis — the only crisis* of time and situation, to give us a possibility of escape from the fatal effects of our delusions. But if, in an obstinate and infatuated perseverance in folly, w-e slavishly echo the per- emptory words this day presented to us, nothing can save this devoted country from complete and * It can not have escaped observation, says Chap- man, with what urgent anxiety the noble speaker has pressed this point throughout his speech ; the critical necessity of instantly treating with America. But the warning voice was heard in vain ; the ad- dress triumphed ; Parliament adjourned ; ministers enjoyed the festive recess of a long Christmas ; and America ratified her alliance with France. final ruin. We madly rush into multiplied mis- eries, and "confusion worse confounded." Is it possible, can it be believed, that minis- ters are yet blind to this impending destruction ? I did hope, that instead of this false and empty vanity, this overweening pride, engendering hio-h conceits and presumptuous imaginations, minis- ters w^ould have humbled themselves in their errors, would have confessed and retracted them, and by an active, though a late repentance, have endeavored to redeem them. But, my Lords, since they had neither sagacity to foresee, nor justice nor humanity to shun these oppressive calamities — since not even severe experience can make them feel, nor the imminent ruin of their country awaken them from their stupefac- tion, the guardian care of Parliament must inter- pose. I shall therefore, my Lords, propose to you an amendment of the address to his Majesty, to be inserted immediately afier the two first paragraphs of congratulation on the birth of a princess, to recommend an immediate cessation of hostilities, and the commencement of a treaty to restore peace and liberty to America, strength and happiness to England, security and perma- nent prosperity to both countries. This, ray Lords, is yet in our power ; and let not the wis- dom and justice of your Lordships neglect the happy, and, perhaps the only opportunity. By the establishment of irrevocable law, founded on mutual rights, and ascertained by treaty, these glorious enjoyments may be firmly perpetuated. And let me repeat to your Lordships, that the strong bias of America, at least of the wise and sounder parts of it, naturally inclines to this hap- py and constitutional reconnection with you. Notwithstanding the temporary intrigues with France, we may still be assured of their ancient and confirmed partiality to us. America and France can not be congenial. There is some- thing decisive and confirmed in the honest Amer- ican, that will not assimilate to the futility and levity of Frenchmen. My Lords, to encourage and confirm that in- nate inclination to this country, founded on every principle of aflfection, as well as consideration of interest ; to restore that favorable disposition into a permanent and pow^erful reunion with this country ; to revive the mutual strength of the empire ; again to awe the house of Bourbon, in- stead of meanly truckling, as our present calam- ities compel us, to every insult of French caprice and Spanish punctilio ; to re-establish our com- merce ; to reassert our rights and our honor ; to confirm our interests, and renew our glories for- ever — a consummation most devoutly to be en- deavored ! and which, I trust, may yet arise from reconciliation with America — I have the honor of submitting to you the following amendment, which I move to be inserted after the two first paragraphs of the address : "And that this House does most humbly ad- vise and supplicate his Majesty to be pleased to cause the most speedy and effectual measures to be taken for restoring peace in America ; and that no time may be lost in proposing an imme- 138 LORD CHATHAM ON AN ADDRESS TO THE THRONE. [1777. diate cessation of hostilities there, in order to the opening of a treaty for the final settlement of the tranquillity of these invaluable provinces, by a removal of the unhappy causes of this ruinous civil war, and by a just and adequate security against the return of the like calamities in times to come. And this House desire to offer the most dutiful assurances to his Majesty, that they will, in due time, cheerfully co-operate with the magnanimity and tender goodness of his Majes- ty for the preservation of his people, by such explicit and most solemn declai-ations, and pro- visions of fundamental and irrevocable laws, as may be judged necessary for the ascertaining and fixing forever the respective rights of Great Britain and her colonies." [In the course of this debate. Lord Suffolk, secretary for the northern department, undei'- took to defend the employment of the Indians in the war. His Lordship contended that, besides its policy and necessity, the measure was also al- lowable on principle ; for that " it was perfectly justifiable to use all the means that God and na- ture put into our hands /"] I am astonished ! (exclaimed Lord Chatham, as he rose), shocked ! to hear such principles confessed — to hear them avowed in this House, or in this country ; principles equally unconsti- tutional, inhuman, and unchristian ! My Lords, I did not intend to have encroach- ed again upon your attention, but I can not re- press my indignation. I feel myself impelled by every duty. jNIy Lords, we are called upon as members of this House, as men, as Christian men, to protest against such notions standing near the Throne, polluting the ear of Majesty. " That God and nature put into our hands !" I know not what ideas that Lord may entertain of God and nature, but I know that such abom- inable principles are equally abhorrent to relig- ion and humanity. What ! to attribute the sa- cred sanction of God and nature to the massa- cres of the Indian scalping-knife — to the canni- bal savage torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating — literally, my Lords, eating the mangled victims of his barbarous battles ! Such horrible notions shock every precept of religion, divine or natural, and every generous feeling of humanity. And, my Lords, they shock every sentiment of honor ; they shock me as a lover of honorable war, and a detester of murderous barbarity. These abominable principles, and this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation. I call upon that right rev- erend bench, those holy ministers of the Gospel, and pious pastors of our Church — I conjure them to join in the holy work, and vindicate the relig- ion of their God. I appeal to the wisdom and the law of this learned bench, to defend and sup- port the justice of their country. I call upon the Bishops, to interpose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn ; upon the learned Judges, to in- terpose the purity of their ermine, to save us fi-om this pollution. I call upon the honor of your Lordships, to reverence the dignity of your ancestoi's, and to maintain your own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the national character. I invoke the genius of the Constitution. From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor of this noble Lord frowns wath indignation at the disgrace of his country.^ In vain he led your victorious fleets against the boasted Armada of Spain ; in vain he defended and established the honoi-, the liberties, the religion — the Protestant religion — of this country, against the arbitrary cruelties of popery and the Inquisition, if these more than popish cruelties and inquisitorial prac- tices are let loose among us — to turn forth into our settlements, among our ancient connections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal, thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child ! to send forth the infidel savage — against whom ? against your Protestant brethren ; to lay w'aste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name with these horri- ble hell-hounds of savage war — hell-hounds^ I say, of savage war! Spain armed herself with blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched natives of America, and we improve on the inhuman ex- ample even of Spanish cruelty ; we tm-n loose these savage hell-hounds against our brethren and countrymen in America, of the same lan- guage, laws, liberties, and religion, endeared to us by every tie that should sanctify humanity. My Lords, this awful subject, so important to our honor, our Constitution, and our religion, demands the most solemn and effectual inquiry. And I again call upon your Lordships, and the united powers of the state, to examine it thor- oughly and decisively, and to stamp upon it an indelible stigma of the public abhorrence. And I again implore those holy prelates of our relig- ion to do away these iniquities from among us. Let them perform a lustration ; let them purify this House, and this country, from this sin. My Lords, I am old and weak, and at present unable to say more ; but my feelings and indig- nation were too strong- to have said less. I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor reposed my head on my pillow, without giving this vent to my eternal abhorrence of such pre- posterous and enormous principles. This speech had no effect. The amendment was rejected by a vote of 97 to 24. 5 The tapestry of the House of Lords represented the English fleet led by the ship of the lord admi- ral, Effingham Howard (ancestor of Suffolk), to en- gage the Spanish Armada. 1777.] LORD CHATHAM AGAINST ADJOURNING PARLIAMENT. 139 SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM AGAINST A MOTION FOR ADJOURNING PARLIAMENT, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, DECEMBER 11, 1777. INTRODUCTION. One of the ministiy having moved that the ParUament do adjoam for the space of six weeks, Lord Chatham opposed the motion in the following speech, in which he dwelt on the dangerous condition of the couutiy, as demanding the immediate attention of Parliament. SPEECH, &c. It is not with less grief than astonishment I hear the motion now made by the noble Earl, at a time when the affairs of this country present on every side prospects full of awe, terror, and impending danger ; when, I will be bold to say, events of a most alarming tendency, little ex- pected or foreseen, will shortly happen ; when a cloud that may crush this nation, and bury it in destruction forever, is ready to burst and over- whelm us in ruin. At so tremendous a season, it does not become your Lordships, the great hereditary council of the nation, to neglect your duty, to retire to your country seats for six weeks, in quest of joy and merriment, while the real state of public affairs calls for grief, mourn- ing, and lamentation — at least, for the fullest ex- ertions of your wisdom. It is your duty, my Lords, as the grand hereditary council of the na- tion, to advise your sovereign, to be the protect- ors of your country, to feel your own weight and authority. As hei'editary counselors, as mem- bers of this House, you stand between the Crown and the people. You are nearer the Throne than the other branch of the Legislature ; it is your duty to surround and protect, to counsel and supplicate it. You hold the balance. Your duty is to see that the weights are properly poised, that the balance remains even, that nei- ther may encroach on the other, and that the executive power may be prevented, by an un- constitutional exertion of even constitutional au- thority, from bringing the nation to destruction. My Lords, I fear we are arrived at the very brink of that state, and I am persuaded that nothing short of a spirited interposition on your part, in giving speedy and wholesome advice to your sovereign, can prevent the people from feel- ing beyond remedy the full effects of that ruin which ministers have brought upon us. These calamitous circumstances ministers have been the cause of; and shall we, in such a state of things, when every moment teems wuth events productive of the most fatal narratives, shall we trust, during an adjournment of six weeks, to those men who have brought those calamities upon us, when, perhaps, our utter overthrow is plotting, nay, ripe for execution, without almost a possibility of prevention ? Ten thousand brave men have fallen victims to ignorance and rash- ness.^ The only army you have in America 1 This refers to the surrender of Burgoyne's army, which took place October 17th, 1777. may, by this time, be no more. This very nation remains no longer safe than its enemies think proper to permit. I do not augur ill. Events of a most critical nature may take place before our next meeting. Will your Lordships, then, in such a state of things, trust to the guidance of men who in every step of this cruel, wicked war, from the very beginning, have proved them- selves weak, ignorant, and mistaken ? I will not say, my Lords, nor do I mean any thing person- al, or that they have brought premeditated ruin on this country. I will not suppose that they foresaw wiiat has since happened, but I do con- tend, my Lords, that their want of wisdom, their incapacity, their temerity in depending on their own judgment, or their base compliances with the orders and dictates of others, perhaps caused by the influence of one or two individuals, have rendered them totally unworthy of your Lord- ships' confidence, of the confidence of Parlia- ment, and those whose rights they are the con- stitutional guardians of, the people at large. A remonstrance, my Lords, should be carried to the Throne. The King has been deluded by his min- isters. They have been imposed on by false in- formation, or have, from motives best known to themselves, given apparent credit to what they have been convinced in their hearts was untrue. The nation has been betrayed into the ruinous measure of an American war by the arts of im- position, by their own credulity, through the means of false hopes, false pride, and promised advantages, of the most romantic and improba- ble nature. My Lords, I do not wish to call your attention entirely to that point. I would fairly appeal to your own sentiments whether I can be justly charged with arrogance or presumption if I say, great and able as ministers think themselves, that all the wisdom of the nation is not confined to the narrow circle of their petty cabinet. I might, I think, without presumption, say, that your Lord- ships, as one of the branches of the Legislature, may be supposed as capable of advising your sov- ereign, in the moment of difficulty and danger, as any lesser council, composed of a fewer num- ber, and who, being already so fatally tmsted, have betrayed a want of honesty or a want of talents. Is it, my Lords, within the utmost stretch of the most sanguine expectation, that the same men who have plunged you into your pres- ent perilous and calamitous situation are the prop- 140 LORD CHATHAM AGAINST ADJOURNING PARLIAMENT. [1777. er persons to rescue you from it ? No, my Lords, such an expectation would be preposterous and absurd. I say, my Lords, you are now specially called upon to interpose. It is your duty to fore- go every call of business and pleasure, to give up your whole time to inquire into past misconduct ; to provide remedies for the present ; to prevent future evils ; to rest on your arms, if I may use the expression, to watch for the public safety ; to defend and support the Throne, and, if Fate should so ordain it, to fall with becoming forti- tude, with the rest of your fellow-subjects, in the general ruin. I fear this last must be the event of this mad, unjust, and cruel war. It is your Lordships' duty to do every thing in your power that it shall not ; but, if it must be so, I trust your Lordships and the nation will fall gloriously. My Lords, as the first and most immediate object of your inquiry, I would recommend to you to consider the true state of our home defense. We have heard much from a noble Lord in this House of the state of our navy. I can not give an implicit belief to all I have heard on that im- portant subject. I still retain my former opinion relative to the number of line of battle ships ; but as an inquiry into the real state of the navy is destined to be the subject of future considera- tion, I do not wish to hear any more about it till that period arrives. I allow, in argument, that we have thirty-five ships of the line fit for actual service. I doubt much whether such a force would give us full command of the Channel. I am certain, if it did, every other part of our pos- sessions must lie naked and defenseless, in every quarter of the globe. 1 fear our utter destruction is at hand.^ What, my Lords, is the state of our military defense ? I would not wish to expose our present weak- ness ; but, weak as we are, if this war should be continued, as the public declaration of persons in high confidence with their sovereign would induce us to suppose, is this nation to be entirely stripped ? And if it should, would every soldier now in Britain be sufficient to give us an equal- ity to the force of America? I will maintain they would not. Where, then, will men be pro- cured ? Recruits are not to be had in this country. Germany will give no more. I have read in the newspapers of this day, and I have reason to believe it true, that the head of the Germanic body has remonstrated against it, and has taken measures accordingly to prevent it. Ministers have, I hear, applied to the Swiss Can- tons. The idea is preposterous. The Swiss never permit their troops to go beyond sea. But, my Lords, even if men were to be procured in Germany, how will you march them to the water side ? Have not our ministers applied for the port of Embden, and has it not been re- fused ? I say, you will not be able to procure men even for your home defense, if some imme- diate steps be not taken. I remember, during 2 Here, and in many other parts of his speech, his Lordship broadly hinted that the house of Bourbon was meditating some important and decisive blow near home. the last war, it was thought advisable to levy in- dependent companies. They were, when com- pleted, formed into two battalions, and proved of great service. I love the army. I know its use. But I must nevertheless own that I was a great friend to the measure of establishing a na- tional militia. I remember, the last war, that there were three camps formed of that corps at once in this kingdom. I saw them myself — one at Winchester, another in the west, at Plymouth, and a third, if I recollect right, at Chatham. Whether the militia is at present in such a state as to answer the valuable purposes it did then, or is capable of being rendered so, I will not pretend to say ; but I see no reason why, in such a critical state of affairs, the experiment should not be made, and why it may not be put again on the former respectable footing.^ I remem- ber, all circumstances considered, when appear- ances were not near so melancholy and alarm- ing as they are, that there were more troops in the county of Kent alone, for the defense of the kingdom, than there are now in the whole island. My Lords, I contend that we have not, nor can procure any force sufficient to subdue Amer- ica. It is monstrous to think of it. There are several noble Lords present, well acquainted with military affairs. I call upon any one of them to rise and pledge himself that the milita- ry force now within the kingdom is adequate to its defense, or that any possible force to be pro- cured from Germany, Switzerland, or elsewhere, will be equal to the conquest of America. I am too perfectly persuaded of their abilities and in- tegrity to expect any such assistance from them. Oh ! but if America is not to be conquered, she may be treated with. Conciliation is at length thought of. Terms are to be offered. Who are the persons that are to treat on the part of this afflicted and deluded country ? The very men who have been the authors of our misfortunes. The very men who have endeavored, by the most pernicious policy, the highest injustice and op- pression, the most cruel and devastating war, to enslave those people they would conciliate, to gain the confidence and affection of those who have survived the Indian tomahawk and German bayonet. Can your Lordships entertain the most distant prospect of success from such a treaty and such negotiations ? No, my Lords, the Americans have virtue, and they must detest the principles of such men. They have under- standing, and too much wisdom to trust to the cunning and narrow politics which must cause such overtures on the part of their merciless per- secutors. My Lords, I maintain that they would shun, with a mixture of prudence and detesta- tion, any proposition coming from that quarter. They would receive terms from such men as snares to allure and betray. They would dread them as ropes meant to be put about their legs, in order to entangle and overthrow them in cer- tain ruin. My Lords, supposing that our do- mestic danger, if at all, is far distant ; that our enemies will leave us at liberty to prosecute this 3 This was afterward done. 1778.] LORD CHATHAM'S LAST SPEECH ON AMERICA. 141 war to the utmost of our ability ; suppose your Lordships should grant a fleet one day, an army another ; all these, I do affirm, will avail nothing, unless you accompany it with advice. Minis- ters have been in error ; experience has proved it ; and, what is worse, they continue it. They told you, in the beginning, that 1 5,000 men would traverse all America, without scarcely an ap- pearance of interruption. Two campaigns have passed since they gave us this assurance. Tre- ble tnat number have been employed ; and one of your armies, which composed two thirds of the force by which America was to be subdued, has been totally destroyed, and is now led cap- tive through those provinces you call rebellious. Those men whom you called cowards, poltroons, runaways, and knaves, are become victorious over your veteran troops ; and, in the midst of victory, and the flush of conquest, have set min- isters an example of moderation and magnanim- ity well worthy of imitation. My Lords, no time should be lost which may promise to improve this disposition in America, unless, by an obstinacy founded in madness, we wish to stifle those embers of affection which, after all our savage treatment, do not seem, as yet, to have been entirely extinguished. While on one side we must lament the unhappy fate of that spirited oflScer, Mr. Burgoyne, and the gal- lant troops under his command, who were sacri- ficed to the wanton temerity and ignorance of ministers, we are as strongly compelled, on the other, to admire and applaud the generous, mag- nanimous conduct, the noble friendship, brotherly affection, and humanity of the victors, who, con- descending to impute the horrid orders of mas- sacre and devastation to their true authors, sup- posed that, as soldiers and Englishmen, those cruel excesses could not have originated with the general, nor were consonant to the brave and humane spirit of a British soldier, if not com- pelled to it as an act of duty. They traced the first cause of those diabolic orders to their true source ; and, by that wise and generous interpret- ation, granted their professed destroyers terms of capitulation which they could be only entitled to as the makers of fair and honorable war. My Lords, I should not have presumed to trouble you, if the tremendous state of this nation did not, in my opinion, make it necessary. Such as I have this day described it to be, I do main- tain it is. The same measures are still persist- ed in ; and ministers, because your Lordships have been deluded, deceived, and misled, pre- sume that, whenever the worst comes, they will be enabled to shelter themselves behind Parlia- ment. This, my Lords, can not be the case. They have committed themselves and their measures to the fate of war, and they must abide the issue. I tremble for this country. I am al- most led to despair that we shall ever be able to extricate ourselves. At any rate, the day of ret- ribution is at hand, when the vengeance of a much-injured and afflicted people will, I trust, fall heavily on the authors of their ruin ; and I am strongly inclined to believe, that before the day to which the proposed adjournment shall ar- rive, the noble earl who moved it will have just cause to repent of his motion. This appeal was unavailing. The motion to adjourn was carried by a vote of 47 to 18. LAST SPEECH OF LORD CHATHAM, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, APRIL 7, 1778. INTRODUCTION. After the delivery of the preceding speech, Lord Chatham continued to decline in health, and would probably never have appeared again in the House of Lords, had not a measure been proposed, against which he felt bound to enter a public remonstrance, even at the hazard of his life. Ignorant of tlic real state of feeling in America, he thought the colonies might be still brought back to their former allegiance and affection, if their wrongs were redressed. He learned, therefore, "with unspeakable concern," that his friend the Duke of Richmond was about to move an address to the King, advising his Majestj^ to make a peace involvmg American independence, which Lord Chatham thought would be the ruin of his country. On the 7th of April, 1778, therefore, the day appointed for the Duke of Richmond's motion, ho came to Westminster, and refreshed himself for a time in the room of the Lord Chancellor, until he learn- ed that business was about to commence. " He was then led into the House of Peers," says his biogra- pher, " by his son, the Honorable WilUam Pitt, and his son-in-law. Lord Mahon. He was dressed in a rich suit of black velvet, and covered up to the knees in flannel. Within his large wig, little more of his coun- tenance was seen than his aquiline nose, and his penetrating eye, which retained all its native fire. Ho looked like a dying man, yet never was seen a figure of more dignity. He appeared like a being of a superior species. The Lords stood up and made a lane for him to pass to his seat, while, with a grace- fulness of deportment for which he was so eminently distinguished, he bowed to them as he proceeded. Having taken his seat, he listened with profound attention to the Duke of Richmond's speech." After Lord Weymouth had replied in behalf of the ministry, Lord Chatham rose with slowness and dif- ficulty from his seat, and delivered the following speech. It is very imperfectly reported, and is interest- ing chiefly as showing " the master spirit strong in death ;" for he sunk under the effort, and survived only a few days. Supported by his two relations, he Hfted his hand from the crutch on which he leaned, raised it up, and, casting his eyes toward heaven, commenced as follows : 143 LORD CHATHAM'S LAST SPEECH ON AMERICA. [1778. SPEECH, &c. I THANK God that, I have been enabled to come here to-day — to perform my duty, and speak on a subject which is so deeply impressed on my mind. I am old and infirm. I have one foot — mo7-e than one foot — in the grave. I have risen from my bed to stand up in the cause of my country — perhaps never again to speak in this House. [" The reverence, the attention, the stillness of the House," said an eye-witness, "were here most affecting : had any one dropped a handker- chief, the noise would have been heard." As he proceeded, Lord Chatham spoke at first in a low tone, with all the weakness of one who is laboring under severe indisposition. Gradu- ally, however, as he warmed with the subject, his voice became louder and more distinct, his intonations grew more commanding, and his whole manner was solemn and impressive in the highest degree. He went over the events of the American war with that luminous and comprehensive survey for which he was so much distinguished in his best days. He pointed out the measures he had condemned, and the re- sults he had predicted, adding at each stage, as he advanced, " And so it proved ! And so it proved .'" Adverting, in one part of his speech, to the fears entertained of a foreign invasion, he recurred to the history of the past : " A Spanish invasion, a French invasion, a Dutch invasion, many noble Lords must have read of in history ; and some Lords" (looking keenly at one who sat near him, with a last reviving flash of his sar- castic spirit), "some Lords may remember a Scotch invasion !" He could not forofet Lord Mansfield's defense of American taxation, and the measures of Lord Bute, which had brought down the country to its present degraded state, from the exalted position to which he had raised it during his brief but splendid administration. He then proceeded in the following terms :] My Lords, I rejoice that the grave has not closed upon me ; that I am still alive, to lift up my voice against the dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy ! Pressed down as I am by the hand of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this most perilous conjunc- ture ; but, my Lords, while I have sense and memor}', I will never consent to deprive the off- spring of the royal house of Brunswick, the heirs of the Princess Sophia, of their fairest inherit- ance. I will first see the Prince of Wales, the Bishop of Osnaburgh, and the other rising hopes of the I'oyal family, brought down to this com- mittee, and assent to such an alienation. Where is the man who will dare to advise it ? My Lords, his Majesty succeeded to an empire as great in extent as its reputation was unsullied. Shall we tarnish the luster of this nation by an igno- minious surrender of its rights and fairest pos- sessions ? Shall this great nation, that has sur- vived, whole and entire, the Danish depredations, the Scottish inroads, the Norman concpicst — that has stood the threatened invasion of the Span- ish Armada, now fall prostrate before the house of Bourbon ? Surely, my Lords, this nation is no longer what it was ! Shall a people that seventeen years ago was the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient inveterate enem}'^. Take all we have^ only give us peace ? It is impossible ! I wage war with no man or set of men. I wish for none of their employments ; nor would I co-operate wiih men who still persist in unre- tracted error, or who, instead of acting on a firm, decisive line of conduct, halt between two opin- ions, where there is no middle path. In God's name, if it is absolutely necessary to declare ei- ther for peace or war, and the former can not be preserved with honor, why is not the latter com- menced without delay ? I am not, I confess,* wfeU informed as to the resources of this kingdom, but I trust it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights, though I know them not. But, my Lords, any state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort, and, if we must fall, let us fall like men ! When Lord Chatham had taken his seat. Lord Temple remarked to him, " You have forgotten to mention what we have been talking about. Shall I get up?" "No," replied Lord Chatham, "/ wilfdo it by-and-by." Lord Richmond replied to Lord Chatham, telling him that the country was in no condition to continue the war : and that, even if he him- self were now (as formerly) at the head of af- fairs, his name, great as it was, could not repair the shattered fortunes of the country. Lord Chat- ham listened with attention, but gave indications, at times, both by his countenance and his ges- tures, that he felt agitated or displeased. When the Duke of Richmond had ended his speech, Lord Chatham made a sudden and stren- uous attempt to rise, as if laboring under the pressure of painful emotions. He seemed eager to speak ; but, after repeated efforts, he suddenly pressed his hand on his heart, and sunk down in convulsions. Those who sat near him caught him in their arms. His son William Pitt, then a youth of seventeen, who was standing without the bar, sprang forward to support him. It is this moment which Copley has chosen for his picture of the death of Lord Chatham. "His- tory," says an able writer, "has no nobler scene to show than that which now occupied the House of Lords. The unswerving patriot, whose long life had been devoted to his country, had striven to the last. The aristocracy of the land stood around, and even the brother of the sovereign thought himself honored in being one of his sup- porters ; party enmities were remembered no more; every other feeling was lost in admira- tion of the great spirit vxhich seemed to be pass- ing away from among them." He was removed in a state of insensibility from the House, and car- ried to Hayes, where he lingered a few days, and died on the 11th of May, 1778. aged seventy. LORD MANSFIELD. William Murray, first Earl of Mansfield, was bom at Scone Castle, near Perth, in Scotland, on the 2d of March, 1705. He was the fourth son of Lord Stormont, head of an ancient but decayed family, which had been reduced to comparative poverty by a long course of extravagance. The title having been conferred by James I., Lord Stor- mont, like his predecessors, remained true to the cause of the Stuarts. His second son, Lord Dunbar, was private secretary to the Pretender. WilHam was sent to London for his education at a very early age ; and hence John- son used sportively to maintain, that his success in after life ought not to be put to the credit of his coimtry, since it was well known that " much might be made of a Scotch- man if he was caught youngs Not a little, however, had been done for William be- fore he left the grammar-school of Perth. Though but fourteen years old, he could read quite freely in the Latin classics ; he knew a large part of Sallust and Horace by heart ; and was able not only to write Latin correctly, but to speak it wdth accuracy and ease. It is not surprising, therefore, considering his native quickness of mind, that within a year after he joined Westminster school, he gained its highest distinction, that of being chosen one of the King's scholars. He soon stood as " dux," or leader of the school ; and, at the end of four years, after a rigorous examination, was put first on the list of those who were to be sent to Oxford, on the foundation at Christ Church. His choice had for some time been firmly fixed upon the law as a profession ; and nothing could so gratify his feelings or advance his interests as to enter the University. But the strait- ened circumstances of his father seemed to forbid the thought ; and he was on the point of giving up his most ardent wishes in despair, when a casual conversation with a young friend opened the way for his being sent to Oxford, with an honorable provision for his support. Lord Foley, father of the friend referred to, having heard of his superior abil- ities, and his strong attachment to the law, generously offered to assist him with the requisite means, to be repaid only in the event of his succeeding in after life. During his residence at Oxford, he gave himself to study with that fervor and dih- gence for which he was always distinguished, quickened by a sense of the responsibihties he had incurred, and by a fixed resolve to place liimself at the head of his profession. He made every thing subser\dent to a preparation for the bar ; and while, in the spirit of that university, he studied Aristotle vidth delight as the great master of reasoning and thought, he devoted his most earnest efforts to improvement m oratory. He read every thing that had been written on the principles of the art ; he made himself famihar with all the great masters of eloquence in Greece and Rome, and spent much of his time in translatuig their finest productions as the best means of improvmg his style. Cicero was his favorite author ; and he declared, in after life, that there was not one of his orations which he had not, while at Oxford, translated into Enghsh, and, after an in- terval, according to the best of his ability, re-translated into Latin. Having taken liis degree at the age of twenty-two, he entered on the study of the law at Lincohi's Inn in 1737. His labors were now conducted on the broadest scale. While law had the precedence, he carried on the practice of oratory with the utmost zeal. To aid him in extemporaneous speaking, he joined a debating society, where the most abstruse legal pomts were fully discussed. For these exercises, he prepared him- self beforehand with such copiousness and accuracy, that the notes he used proved highly valuable ur after fife, both at the bar and on the bench. He found time, also, to pursue his historical studies to such an extent, that Lord Campbell speaks of his fa- 144 LORD MANSFIELD. miliarity with modern history as " astounding and even appalling, for it produces a painful consciousness of inferiority, and creates remorse for time misspent." When called to the bar in 1730, "he had made himself acquainted not only \^dth interna- tional law, but with the codes of all the most civilized nations, ancient and modem ; he was an elegant classical scholar ; he was thoroughly imbued \\dth the Uterature of his own coimtry ; he had profoundly studied our mixed constitution ; he had a sincere desire to be of service to his countiy ; and he was animated by a noble aspiration after honorable fame." When he first came to London as a boy m Westminster school, he was introduced by his countryman, Lord Marchmont, to Mr. Pope, then at the height of his mirivaled popularity. The poet took a lively interest in the young Scotchman, attracted not only by the quickness of his parts and the fineness of his maimers and person, but by " the silvery tones of his voice," for which he continued to be distinguished to the end of life. Mr. Pope entered with the warmest concern into all his employments, and as sisted especially in his rhetorical studies during his preparation for the bar. One day. Bays his biographer, he was surprised by a friend, who suddenly entered the room, in " the act of practicing before a glass, while Pope sat by to aid him in the character of an instructor!" Their friendship continued throughout life ; and in a new edition of the Dunciad Mr. Pope introduced his name, with that of other distinguished men, complain- ing that law and politics should have drawn them off from the more congenial pursuits of Uterature. " Whate'er the talents and howe'er designed, We bang one jingling padlock on the mind. A poet the first day he dips his quill ; And what the last? a very poet still. Pity the charm works only in our wall, Lost — too soon lost — in yonder House or Hall : There truant Wyndham ev'ry muse gave o'er ; There Talbot sank, and was a wit no more ; How siveet an Ovid, Murray, icas our boast! How many Martials w^ere in Pulteney lost !" Some years elapsed after Mr. Murray's call to the bar before he had any business of importance ; and then, after a few successful cases, it poured in upon him to absolute repletion. " From a few hundred pounds a year," said he, "I found myself in the re- ceipt of thousands." Retainers came in from every quarter : and one of a thousand guineas was sent by Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, with that ostentatious munificence which she sometimes affected. Nine hundred and ninety-five guineas were retm*ned by Mr. Murray, Avith the significant remark that "a retaining fee was never more nor less than five guineas." He found her a very troublesome client. Not unfrequently she made her appearance at his chambers after midnight, crowding the street with her splendid equipage and her attendants with torches ; and on one occasion when he was absent, his clerk, giving an accotmt of her visit the next morning, said, " I could not make out, sir, who she was, for she would not tell me her name ; but she swore so dreadfully that she must have been a lady of quaUty I" Soon after the fall of Sir Robert Walpole in 1742, Mr. Murray was appointed Solic- itor General, and elected a member of Parliament through the influence of the Duke of Newcastle. His powerful talents were needed for the support of the new administra- tion, which was suffering under the vehement attacks of Mr. Pitt. Here comimenced that long series of conflicts which divided for life the two most accomplished orators of the age. It could not be otherv\dse, for never were two men more completely the an- tipodes of each other. Pitt was a Whig ; Mun\ay was a High Tory. Pitt was ar- dent, open, and impetuous ; Murray was cool, reserved, and circumspect. The intel- lect of Pitt was bold and commanding ; that of MuiTay was subtle, penetrating, and LORD MANSFIELD. 145 refined. Pitt sought power ; Murray, office and emolument. Two such men could not but differ ; and diflering as they did for life, it was natural that the one should dis- trust or despise, and the other fear, perhaps hate. In native talent, it would be diffi- cult to say which had the advantage ; but the mind of Murray was more perfectly tramed, and his memory enriched with larger stores of knowledge. " In closeness of argument," says an able writer, " m happiness of illustration, in copiousness and grace of diction, the oratory of Murray was unsurpassed : and, indeed, in all the qualities which conspire to form an able debater, he is allowed to have been Pitt's superior. When measures were attacked, no one was better capable of defending them ; when reasoning was the weapon employed, none handled it with such effect ; but against declamatory invective, his very temperament incapacitated him for contending with so much advantage. He was like an accomplished fencer, invulnerable to the thrusts of a small sword, but not equally able to ward off' the downright stroke of a bludgeon." In 1754 Mr. Murray was appointed Attorney General, and soon after made leader of the House of Conamons under the Duke of Newcastle. "At the beginning of the session," says Horace Walpole, " Murray was awed by Pitt ; but, finding himself sup- ported by Fox, he surmounted his fears, and convinced the House, and Pitt too, of his superior abilities. Pitt could only attack, Murray only defend. Fox, the boldest and ablest champion, was still more forward to worry ; but the keenness of his saber was blunted by the difficulty with which he drew it from the scabbard — I mean, the hesitation and ungracefulness of his delivery took off from the force of his arguments. Murray, the brightest genius of the three, had too much and too little of the lawyer ; he refined too much and could wrangle too little for a popular assembly." We have seen already, in the life of Lord Chatham, what difficulties Murray had to encounter that session in sustaining the ministry of Newcastle, and the crushing force with which he was overwhelmed by his opponent. In 1756 he resolved to endure it no longer, and on the death of Sir Dudley Ryder he demanded the office of Chief Jus- tice of the King's Bench. Newcastle refused, remonstrated, supphcated. " The writ for creating Murray," he declared, "would be the death-warrant of his own adminis- tration." He resisted for several months, offering the most tempting bribes, mcluding a pension of XCOOO a year, if he would only remain in the House until the new ses- sion was opened, and the address voted in reply to the King's speech. Murray de- clared, in the most peremptory terms, that he would not remain " a month or a day even to support the address;" that "he never again would enter that assembly." Turning with indignation to Newcastle, he exclaimed, "What merit have I, that you should lay on this country, for which so httle is done with spirit, the additional bur- den of £6000 a year ;" and concluded with declaring his unalterable determination, if he was not made Chief Justice, to serve no longer as Attorney General. This brought Newcastle to a decision. On the 8th of November, 1756, Mun-ay was swoni in as Chief Justice, and created a peer with the title of Baron Mansfield. At a later period he was raised to the earldom. In entering on his new career, he was called upon to take public leave of his as- sociates of Lincohi's Inn. On that occasion he was addressed in an elegant speech by fthe Honorable Charles Yorke. The reader will be interested in Mr. Murray's reply, as showing with what admirable dignity and grace he could receive the compliments bestowed upon him, and turn them aside in favor of another. '* I am too sensible, sir, of my being undeserving of the praises which you have so eiegantly bestowed upon me, to suffer commendations so delicate as yours to insinuate themselves into my mind ; but I have pleasure in that kind of partiality which is the occasion of them. To deserve such praises is a worthy object of ambition, and from such a tongue flattery itself is pleasing. " If I have had, in any measure, success in my profession, it is owing to the great man who has presided in our highest courts of judicature the whole time I attended the bar.^ It was im- 1 Lord Hardwicke, father of Mr. Yorke. K 146 LORD MANSFIELD. possible to attend to him, to sit under him every day, without catching some beams from his h'o-ht. The disciples of Socrates, whom I will take the liberty to call the great lawyer of antiquity, since the first principles of all law are derived from his philosophy, owe their reputation to their having been the reporters of the sayings of their master. If we can arrogate nothing to ourselves, we can boast the school we were brought up in ; the scholar may glory in his master, and we may challenge past ages to show us his equal. My Lord Bacon had the same extent of thought, and the same strength of language and expression, but his life had a stain. My Lord Clai-endon had the same ability, and the same zeal for the Constitution of his country, but the civil war prevented his laying deep the foundations of law, and the avocations of politics interrupted the business of the chancellor. My Lord Somers came the nearest to his character, but his time was short, and envy and faction sullied the luster of his glory. It is the peculiar felicity of the great man I am speaking of to have presided very near twenty years, and to have shone with a splendor that has risen superior to faction and that has subdued envy. " I did not intend to have said, I should not have said so much on this occasion, but that in this situation, with all that hear me, what I say must carry the weight of testimony rather than ap- pear the voice of panegyric. " For you, sir, you have given great pledges to 3'our country ; and large as the expectations of the public are concerning you, I dare say you will answer them. " For the society, I shall always think myself honored by every mark of their esteem, affection, and friendship; and shall desire the continuance of it no longer than while I remain zealous for the Constitution of this country and a friend to the interests of virtue." Lord Mansfield now entered on that high career of usefulness which has made his name known and honored throughout the civihzed world. Few men have ever been so well qualified for that exalted station. He had pre-eminently a legal intellect, great clearness of thought, accuracy of discrimination, soundness of judgment, and strength of reasoning, united to a scientific knowledge of jurisprudence, a large expe- rience in all the intricacies of practice, unusual courtesy and ease in the dispatch of busiiiess, and extraordinary powers of application. He came to the bench, not like most lawyers, trusting to his previous knowledge and the aid afibrded by counsel in forming his decisions, but as one v/ho had just entered on the real employment of his life. " On the day of his inauguration as Cliief Justice, instead of thinking that he had won the prize, he considered himself as only starting in the race." How he discharged the duties of his high station, it belongs especially to men of his own profession to determine. One fact, however, may stand in the place of many authorities. Out of the thousands of cases which he decided in the Court of King's Bench, there were only two in which his associates of that court did not unanimously agree with him in opinion. Yet they were, as all the world knows, men of the high- est abihty and the most perfect independence of mind. Junius, indeed, assailed him v/ith malignant bitterness, but it is the universal decision of the bar that his charges were false as they were malignant. Against this attack we may set off the opinion of Chief Justice Story. " England and America, and the civilized world, lie under the deepest obligations to him. Wherever commerce shall extend its social influences ; wherever justice shall be administered by enlightened and liberal rules ; wherever contracts shall be expounded upon the eternal principles of right and wrong ; wher- ever moral delicacy and judicial refinement shall be infused into the municipal code, at once to persuade men to be honest and to keep them so ; wherever the intercourse of mankind shall aim at something more elevated than that groveling spirit of barter, in which maanness, and avarice, and fraud strive for the mastery over ignorance, credulity, and folly, the name of Lord Mansfield will be held in reverence by the good and the wise, by the honest merchant, the enlightened lawyer, the just statesman, and the conscientious judge. The proudest monument of his fame is in the volumes of Burrow, and Cowper, and Douglas, which we may fondly hope will endure as long as the language in which they are written shall continue to instruct mankind. His judgments should not be merely referred to and read on the spur of particular occa- sions, but should be studied as models of juridical reasoning and eloquence." As a speaker in the House of Lords, the success of Lord Mansfield was greater than LORD MANSFIELD. 147 in the House of Commons. The cahnness and dignity of the assembly were better' suited to his habits of thought. Here, after a few years, he had again to encounter his great antagonist, who was raised to the same dignity in 1766. As Chatham was the advocate of the people's rights, Mansfield was the champion of the King's prerogative. He defended the Stamp Act, and maintained the right of Parliament to tax the Americans as being virtually represented in the House of Commons. A speech on that subject, corrected by himself, is given below. Lord Campbell, not- withstanding his strong predilections as a Whig, does not hesitate to pronounce it unanswerable. His speech in favor of taking away the protection extended to the servants of peers is the most finished of his productions, and will also be found in this volume. To these will be added his argument in the case of the Chamber- lain of London vs. Allan Evans, which has often been spoken of as the most perfect specimen of juridical reasoning in our language. His address from the bench, when surrounded by a mob, during the trial of the outlawry of Wilkes, will also form part of the extracts. After discharging his duties as Chief Justice nearly thirty-two years, he resigned his office on the 4th of June, 1788. His faculties were still unimpaired, though his strength was gone ; and he continued in their unclouded exercise nearly five years longer, when he died, after an illness of ten days, on the 20th of March, 1793, in the eighty-ninth year of his age. " The countenance of Lord Mansfield," says a friend and contemporary, " was un- commonly beautiful, and none could ever behold it, even in advanced years, without reverence. Nature had given him an eye of fire ; and his voice, till it was afi'ected by the years which passed over him, was perhaps unrivaled in the sweetness and variety of its tones. There w^as a similitude between his action and that of Mr. Garrick. In speaking from the bench, there was sometimes a confusion in his pe- riods, and a tendency to involve his sentences in parentheses ; yet, such was the charm of his voice and action, and such the general beauty, propriety, and force of his expressions, that, while he spoke, all these defects passed unnoticed." The eloquence of Lord Mansfield, especially in his best speeches in the House of Lords, was that of a judge rather than an advocate or a party leader. He had the air of addressing the House of Lords, according to the theory of that body, as one who spoke '^^^:>o?^ honor. He sought not to drive, but to lead ; not to overwhelm the mind by appeals to the passions, but to aid and direct its inquiries ; so that his hearers had the satisfaction of seeming, at least, to form their own conclusions. He was peculiarly happy in his statement of a case. " It was worth more," said Mr. Burke, " than any other man's argument." Omitting all that was unnecessary, he seized, with surprising tact, on the strong points of a subject ; he held them stead- ily before the mind ; and, as new views opened, he led forward his hearers, step by step, toward the desired result, with almost the certainty of intuitive evidence. "It was extremely difficult," said Lord Ashburton, "to answer him when he was wrong, and impossible when he was in the right." His manner was persuasive, with enough of force and animation to secure the closest attention. His illustrations were always apposite, and sometimes striking and beautiful. His language, in his best speeches, was select and graceful ; and his whole style of speaking approached as near as pos- sible to that dignified conversation which has always been considered appropriate to the House of Lords. SPEECH OF LORD MANSFIELD ON THE RIGHT OF TAXING AMERICA, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, FEBRUARY 3, 1766. INTRODUCTION. In January, 1776, a bill was brought into the House of Commons, under Lord Rockingham's ministry, for the repeal of the American Stamp Act ; and in order to mollify the King, who was opposed to that measure, it was accompanied by a Declaratory Act, affirming that '"Parliament had full power and right to make laws of sufficient force to bind the colonies." Lord Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, remarked with sever- itj^ on this Declaratory Act when befoi'e the Commons. Lord Camden did the same when it came before the House of Lords, February 3d, 1766. He said, "In my opinion, my Lords, the Legislature have no right to make this law. The sovereign authority, the omnipotence of the Legislature, is a favorite doc- trine ; but there are some things which you can not do. You can not take away a man's property without making him a compensation. You have no right to condemn any man by bill of attainder without hear- ing him. But, though Parliament can not take any man's private property, yet every subject must make contribution ; and this he consents to do by his representative. Notwithstanding the King, Lords, and Commons could in ancient times tax other persons, they could not tax the clergy." He then went on to consider the case of the counties palatine of Wales and of Berwick, showing that they were never taxed till they sent representatives to the House of Commons, observing that the Irish tax themselves, and that the English Parliament could not tax them. " But," said he, "even supposing the Americans have no exclusive right to tax themselves, it would be good policy to give it to them, instead of offensively exert- ing a power which you ought never to have exercised. America feels that she can do better without us than we can do without her." Lord Northingtou, the Chancellor, made some coarse and bitter remarks in reply ; and Lord Mansfield then rose to defend his favorite doctrine of the i-ight of Great Britain to tax the colonies. His speech is by far the most plausible and argumentative one ever delivered on that side of the question; and Lord Campbell, in referring to the subject, says, "Lord Mansfield goes on with great calmness, and with argu- ments to which I have never been able to find an answer, to deny, as far as the poioer is concerned, the distinction between a law to tax and a law for any other purpose. "> The speech was corrected for the press by Lord Mansfield, and may therefore be relied on as authentic. SPEECH, &c. My Lords, — I shall speak to the question The question Strictly as a matter of right ; for it is not expecu-"' ^ proposition in its nature so perfectly ency. distinct from the expediency of the tax, that it must necessarily be taken separate, if there is any true logic in the world ; but of the expediency or inexpediency I will say noth- ing. It will be time enough to speak upon that subject when it comes to be a question. I shall also speak to the distinctions which have been taken, without any real difference, as to the nature of the tax ; and I shall point out, lastly, the necessity there will be of exerting the force of the superior authority of government, if opposed by the subordinate part of it. I am extremely sorry that the question has ever become necessary to be agitated, and that there should be a decision upon it. No one in this House will live long enough to see an end put to the mischief which will be the result of the doctrine which has been inculcated ; but the arrow is shot, and the wound already given. I shall certainly avoid personal reflections. No one has had more cast upon him than myself; ^ Lives of the Chancellors, v., 206. but I never was biased by any consideration of applause from without, in the discharge of my public duty ; and, in giving my sentiments ac- cording to what I thought law, I have relied upon my own consciousness. It is with great pleasure I have heard the noble Lord who moved the resolution express himself in so manly and sensible a way, when he recommended a dis- passionate debate, while, at the same time, he urged the necessity of the House coming to such a resolution, with great dignity and propriety of argument. I shall endeavor to clear away from the ques- tion, all that mass of dissertation and Refutation of learning displayed in arguments which nr^'iments have been fetched from speculative records and men who have written upon the sub- ^"^""^ "^**' ject of government, or from ancient records, as being little to the purpose. I shall insist that these records are no proofs of our present Con- stitution. A noble Lord has taken up his ar- gument from the settlement of the Constitution at the Revolution ; I shall take up my argument from the Constitution as it now is. The Consti- tution of this country has been always in a mov- ing state, either gaining or losing something , 1766.] LORD MANSFIELD ON TAXING AMERICA. 149 and with respect to the modes of taxation, when we get beyond the reign of Edward the First, or of King John, we are all in doubt and obscu- rity. The history of those times is full of uncer- tainties. In regard to the writs upon record, they were issued some of them according to law, and some not according to law ; and such [i. c, of the latter kind] were those concerning ship- money, to call assemblies to tax themselves, or to compel benevolences. Other taxes were rais- ed from escuage, fees for knights' service, and by other means arising out of the feudal system. Benevolences are contrary to law ; and it is well known how people resisted the demands of the Crown in the case of ship-money, and were per- secuted by the Court ; and if any set of men were to meet now to lend the King money, it would be contrary to law, and a breach of the rights of Parliament. I shall now answer the noble Lord particular- ly upon the cases he has quoted. With respect to the Marches of Wales, who were the border- ers, privileged for assisting the King in his war against the Welsh in the mountains, their enjoy- ing this privilege of taxing themselves was but of a short duration, and during the life of Ed- wai-d the First, till the Prince of Wales came to be the King ; and then they were annexed to the Crown, and became subject to taxes like the rest of the dominions of England ; and from thence came the custom, though unnecessary, of naming Wales and the town of Monmouth in all proclamations and in acts of Parliament. Henry the Eighth w^as the first who issued writs for it to return two members to Parliament. The Crown exercised this right ad libitum, from whence arises the inequality of representation in our Constitution at this day. Henry VIII. issued a writ to Calais to send one burgess to Parlia- ment. One of the counties palatine (I think he said Durham) was taxed fifty years to subsidies, before it sent members to Parliament. The cler- gy were at no time unrepresented in Parliament. When they taxed themselves, it was done with the concurrence and consent of Parliament, who permitted them to tax themselves upon their pe- tition, the Convocation sitting at the same time with the Parliament. They had, too, their rep- resentatives always sitting in this House, bish- ops and abbots ; and, in the other House, they were at no time without a right of voting singly for the election of members ; so that the argu- ment fetched from the case of the clergy is not an argument of any foi-ce, because they were at no time unrepresented here. The reasoning about the colonies of Great The colonies Britain, drawn from the colonies of nofa'cTse'In antiquity, is a mere useless display point. of learning ; for the colonies of the Tyrians in Africa, and of the Greeks in Asia, were totally different from our system. No na- tion before ourselves formed any regular system of colonization, but the Romans ; and their sys- tem was a military one, and of garrisons placed in the principal towns of the conquered provin- ces. The states of Holland were not colonies of Spain ; they were states dependent upon the house of Austria in a feudal dependence. Noth- ing could be more different from our colonies than that flock of men, as they have been called, who came from the North, and poured into Eu- rope. Those emigrants renounced all laws, all protection, all connection with their mother coun- tries. They chose their leaders, and marched under their banners to seek their fortunes and establish new kingdoms upon the ruins of the Roman empire. But our colonies, on the contrary, emigrated under the sanction of the Crown and jp.y^^j ^„„. Pai'liament. They were modeled "";""• i- ^iie . •{ colonies crea- gradually into their present forms, ted by charter, respectively, by charters, grants, and depend^Jnt^o^n statutes ; but they were never sep- ^''^^^ ^"'^'"• arated from the mother country, or so emanci- pated as to become sid juris. There are sev- eral sorts of colonies in British America. The charter colonies, the proprietary governments, and the King's colonies. The first colonies were the charter colonies, such as the Virginia Com- pany ; and these companies had among their di- rectors members of the privy council and of both houses of Parliament ; they were under the au- thority of the privy council, and had agents resi- dent here, responsible for their proceedings. So much were they considered as belonging to the Crown, and not to the King personally (for there is a great difference, though few people attend to it), that when the two Houses, in the time of Charles the First, were going to pass a bill con- cerning the colonies, a message was sent to them by the King that they were the King's colonies, and that the bill was unnecessary, for that the privy council would take order about them ; and the bill never had the royal assent. The Com- monwealth Parliament, as soon as it was settled, were very early jealous of the colonies separating themselves from them ; and passed a resolution or act (and it is a question whether it is not in force now) to declare and establish the authority of England over its colonies. But if there was no express law, or reason founded upon any necessary infer- 2 ^hey have ence from an express law. vet the ^V'"v'',"^i' ^° * • .'. tnjjhsh law, usage alone would be sulhcient to and thus ac- support that authority ; for, have not u"e"ird^e|end- the colonies submitted ever since ^""^^^^ their first establishment to the jurisdiction of the mother country ? In all questions of property, the appeals from the colonies have been to the privy council here ; and such causes have been determined, not by the law of the colonies, but by the law of England. A very little while ago, there was an appeal on a question of limitation in a devise of land with remainders ; and, not- withstanding the intention of the testator appear- ed very clear, yet the case was determined con- trary to it, and that the land should pass accord- ing to the law of England. The colonies have been obliged to recur very frequently to the ju- risdiction here, to settle the disputes among their own governments. I well remember several references on this head, when the late Lord 150 LORD MANSFIELD ON [17G6. Hardwicke was attorney general, and Sir Clem- ent Wearg solicitor general. New Hampshire and Connecticut were in blood about their differ- ences 5 Virginia and Maryland were in arms against each other. This shows the necessity of one superior decisive jurisdiction, to which all subordinate jurisdictions may recur. Nothing, my Lords, could be more fatal to the peace of the colonies at any time, than the Parliament giving up its authority over them ; for in such a case, there must be an entire dissolution of gov- ernment. Considering how the colonies are composed, it is easy to foresee there would be no end of feuds and factions among the several separate governments, when once there shall be no one government here or there of sufficient force or authority to decide their mutual differ- ences ; and, government being dissolved, nothing remains but that the colonies must either change their Constitution, and take some new form of government, or fall under some foreign power. At present the several forms of their Constitution are very various, having been produced, as all governments have been originally, by accident and circumstances. The forms of government in every colony vrere adopted, from time to time, according to the size of the colony ; and so have been extended again, from time to time, as the numbei's of their inhabitants and their commer- cial connections outgrew the first model. In some colonies, at first there was only a governor assisted by two or three counsel ; then more were added ; afterward courts of justice w^ere erected ; then assemblies were created. Some things were done by instructions from the secre- taries of state ; other things were done by order of the King and council ; and other things by commissions under the great seal. It is observ- able, that in consequence of these establishments from time to time, and of the dependency of these governments upon the supreme Legislature at home, the lenity of each government in the colonies has been extreme toward the subject ; and a great inducement has been created for people to come and settle in them. But, if all those governments which are now independent of each other, should become independent of the mother country, I am afraid that the inhabitants of the colonies are very little aware of the con- sequences. They would feel in that case very soon the hand of power more heavy upon them in their own governments, than they have yet done, or have ever imagined. The Constitutions of the different colonies arc 3. The laws to thus made up of different principles. n>'i'ueci^'affected "^^^^J ^'^"■'^t remain dependent, from ll.eir pecuniiiry thc nCCCSsitV of things, and their re- interests vitally. , . , "^ . . ,. . ^ , , lations to the jurisdiction ot thc moth- er country ; or they must bo totally dismembered from it, and form a league of union among them- selves against it, which could not be effected without great violences. No one ever thought the contrary till the trumpet of sedition was blown. Acts of Parliament have been made, not only without a doubt of their legality, but with universal applause, the great object of which has been ultimately to fix the trade of the colo- nies, so as to center in the bosom of that country from whence they took their original. The Nav- igation Act shut up their intercourse with for- eign countries. Their ports have been made subject to customs and regulations which have cramped and diminished their trade. And du- ties have been laid, affecting the very inmost parts of their commerce, and, among others, that of the post ; yet all these have been submitted to peaceably, and no one ever thought till now of this doctrine, that the colonies are not to be taxed, regulated, or bound by Parliament. A few particular merchants were then, as now, dis- pleased at restrictions which did not permit them to make the greatest possible advantages of their commerce in their own private and peculiar branches. But, though these few merchants might think themselves losers in articles which they had no right to gain, as being prejudicial to the general and national system, yet I must ob- serve, that the colonies, upon the whole, were benefited by these laws. For these restrictive laws, founded upon principles of the most solid policy, flung a great weight of naval force into the hands of the mother country, w^hich was to protect its colonies. Without a union with her, the colonies must have been entirely weak and defenseless, but they thus became relatively great, subordinately, and in proportion as the mother country advanced in superiority over the rest of the maritime powers in Europe ; to which both mutually contributed, and of which both have reaped a benefit, equal to the natural and just relation in which they both stand recipro- cally, of dependency on one side, and protection on the other. There can be no doubt, my Lord.s, but that the inhabitants of the colonies are as 4. The colonies much represented in Parliament, as represJnted'ln the greatest part of the people of En- P''r''a'"ent. gland are represented ; among nine millions of whom there are eight which have no votes in electing members of Parliament. Every objec- tion, therefore, to the dependency of the colonies upon Parliament, which arises to it upon the ground of representation, goes to the whole pres- ent Constitution of Great Britain ; and I suppose it is not meant to new model that too. People may form speculative ideas of perfection, and in- dulge their own fancies or those of other men. Every man in this country has his particular no- tion of liberty ; but perfection never did, and never can exist in any human institution. To what purpose, then, are arguments drawn from a distinction, in which there is no real difference — of a virtual and actual representation ? A mem- ber of Parliament, chosen for any borough, rep- resents not only the constituents and inhabitants of that particular place, but he represents the inhabitants of every other borough in Great Britain. He represents the city of London, and all other the commons of this land, and the in- habitants of all the colonies and dominions of Great Britain ; and is, in duty and conscience, bound to take care of their inter.ests. 1766,] TAXING AMERICA. 151 I have mentioned the customs and the post tax. 5 The (listinc- "^^^^ leads me to answer another dis- tion of external tinctioH, as falsc as the above; the and internal ,. . . „ . , , ' , taxation is a distinction 01 internal and external taxes. The noble Lord who quoted so much law, and denied upon those f^rounds the right of the Parliament of Great Britain to lay internal taxes upon the colonies, allowed at the same time that restrictions upon trade, and du- ties upon the ports, were legal. But I can not see a real difference in this distinction; for I hold it to be true, that a tax laid in any place is like a pebble falling into and making a circle in a lake, till one circle produces and gives motion to another, and the whole circumference is agi- tated from the center. For nothing can be more clear than that a tax of ten or twenty per cent, laid upon tobacco, either in the ports of Virginia or London, is a duty laid upon the inland plant- ations of Virginia, a hundred miles from the sea, wheresoever the tobacco grows. I do not deny but that a tax may be laid in- judiciously and injuriously, and that people in such a case may have a right to complain. But the nature of the tax is not now the question ; whenever it comes to be one, I am for lenity. I would have no blood drawn. There is, I am satisfied, no occasion for any to be drawn. A little time and experience of the inconveniences and miseries of anarchy, may bring people to their senses. With respect to what has been said or written ,r ^ • , u , upon this subject, I differ from the Mr. Otis'sbook. ' •' ' ,>Tv/r r\ ■ noble Lord, who spoke of Mr. Otis and his book with contempt, though he maintain- ed the same doctrine in some points, while in others he carried it farther than Otis himself, who allows every where the supremacy of the Crown over the colonies."^ No man, on such a subject, is contemptible. Otis is a man of con- .sequence among the people there. They have chosen him for one of their deputies at the Con- gress and general meeting from the respective governments. It was said, the man is mad. What then ? One madman often makes many. 2 The celebrated James Otis is here referred to, who in 1764 published a pamphlet, which was re- printed in England, entitled The Rights of the Brit- ish Colonies. In this pamphlet, while he admitted the supremacy of the Crown over the colonies, he strenuously maintained, with Lord Chatham, that as long as America remained unrepresented in the House of Commons, Parliament had no right to tax the colonies. Mr. Otis, who was a man of fervid eloquence, ex- pressed himself so strongly respecting the rights of America, that some persons (as Lord Mansfield men- tions) treated him as a madman. There is a speech (to be found in most of our collections of eloquence) which bears his name, and begins, " England may as well dam up the waters of the Nile with bulrush- es, as fetter the step of freedom," &c. It first ap- peared in a work entitled The Rebels, written by Mrs. Child, and was designed as a fancy sketch, like the speeches put by Mr. Webster into the mouth of Adams and Hancock, in his oration on the death of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. Masaniello was mad. Nobody doubts it; yet, for all that, he overturned the government of Naples. Madness is catching in all popular assemblies and upon all popular matters. The book is full of wildness. I never read it till a few days ago, for I seldom look into such things. I never was actually acquainted with the con- tents of the Stamp Act, till I sent for it on pur- pose to read it before the debate was expected. With respect to authorities in another House, I know nothing of them. I believe that I have not been in that House more than once since I had the honor to be called up to this ; and, if I did know any thing that passed in the other House, I could not, and would not, mention it as an authority here. I ought not to mention any such authority. I should think it beneath my own and your Lordships' dignity to speak of it. I am far from bearing any ill will to the Amer- icans ; they are a very good people, and I have long known them. I began life with them, and owe much to them, having been much concerned in the plantation causes before the privy coun- cil ; and so I became a good deal acquainted with American affairs and people. I dare say, their heat will soon be over, when they come to feel a little the consequences of their opposition to the Legislature. Anarchy always cures it- self; but the ferment will continue so much the longer, while hot-headed men there find that there arc persons of weight and character to support and justify them here. Indeed, if the disturbances should continue for a great length of time, force must be Force must be the consequence, an application ad- "urbancef ctn" equate to the mischief, and arising ti"ue. out of the necessity of the case ; for force is only the difference between a superior and subordin- ate jurisdiction. In the former, the whole force of the Legislature resides collectively, and when it ceases to reside, the whole connection is dis- solved. It will, indeed, be to very little purpose that we sit here enacting laws, and making res- olutions, if the inferior will not obey them, or if we neither can nor dare enforce them ; for then, and then, I say, of necessity, the matter comes to the sword. If the offspring are grown too big and too resolute to obey the parent, you must try which is the strongest, and exert all the pow- ers of the mother country to decide the contest. I am satisfied, notwithstanding, that time and a wise and steady conduct may pre- Examples <,f vent those extremities which would like" on ou, be fatal to both. I remember well ^r subjects. when it was the violent humor of the times to decry standing armies and garrisons as danger- ous, and incompatible with the liberty of the sub- ject. Nothing would do but a regular militia The militia are embodied; they march : and n(; sooner was the militia law thus put into execu- tion, but it was then said to be an intolerable burden upon the subject, and that it would fall, sooner or later, into the hands of the Crown. That was the language, and many counties pe- titioned against it. This may be the case with the colonies. In many places they begin already 152 LORD MANSFIELD ON [1766. to feel the efTects of their resistance to govern- ment. Interest very soon divides mercantile people ; and, although there may be some mad, enthusiastic, or ill-designing people in the colo- nies, yet I am convinced that the greatest bulk, who have understanding and property, are still well affected to the mother country. You have, my Lords, many friends still in the colonies ; and take care that you do not, by abdicating your own authority, desert them and yourselves, and lose them forever. In all popular tumults, the worst men bear the sway at first. Moderate and good men are often silent for fear or modesty, who, in good time, may declare themselves. Those who have any property to lose are sufficiently alarmed already at the progress of these public violences and viola- tions, to which every man's dwelling, person, and property are hourly exposed. Numbers of such valuable men and good subjects are ready and willing to declare themselves for the support of government in due time, if government does not fling away its own authority. My Lords, the Parliament of Great Britain has its rights over the colonies ; but it may ab- dicate its rights. There was a thing which I forgot to mention. Notice of a I mean, the manuscript quoted by Lord'Hare'^'s!'^ the noblc Lord. He tells you that Soted'by Lord ^^ ^^ thcrc Said, that, if the act con- camden. ccming Ireland had passed, the Par- liament might have abidicated its rights as to Ireland. In the first place, I heartily wish, my Lords, that Ireland had not been named, at a time when that country is of a temper and in a situ- ation so difficult to be governed ; and when we have already here so much weight upon our hands, encumbered with the extensiveness, va- riety, and importance of so many objects in a vast and too busy empire, and the national sys- tem shattered and exhausted by a long, bloody, and expensive war, but more so by our divisions at home, and a fluctuation of counsels. I wush Ireland, therefore, had never been named. I pay as much respect as any man to the memory of Lord Chief Justice Hale ; but I did not know that he had ever written upon the sub- ject ; and I differ very much from thinking with the noble Lord, that this manuscript ought to be published. So far am I from it, that I wish the manuscript had never been named ; for Ireland is too tender a subject to be touched. The case of Ireland is as difl^erent as possible from that of our colonies. Ireland was a conquered country ; it had its pacta conventa and its regalia. But to what purpose is it to mention the manuscript? It is but the opinion of one man. When it was written, or for what particular object it was written, does not appear. It might possibly be only a work of youth, or an exercise of the un- derstanding, in sounding and trying a question problematically. All people, when they first enter professions, make their collections pretty early in life ; and the manuscript may be of that sort. However, be it what it may, the opinion is but problematical ; for the act to w^hich the writer refers never passed, and Lord Hale only said, that, if it had passed, the Parliament might have abdicated their right. But, my Lords, I shall make this application of it. You may abdicate your right over the colonies. Take care, my Lords, how you do so ; for such an act will be irrevocable. Proceed, then, my Lords, with spirit and firmness ; and, when you shall have established your authority, it will then be a time to show your lenity. The Americans, as I said before, ai'c a very good peo- ple, and I wish them exceedingly well ; but they are heated and inflamed. The noble Lord who .spoke before ended with a prayer. I can not end better than by saying to it. Amen ; and in the words of Maurice, prince of Orange, con- cerning the Hollanders, " God bless this indus- trious^ frugal^ and well-meaning^ hut easily-de- luded people.'''' The Stamp Act was repealed, and the De- claratory Act, thus advocated by Lord Mans- field, was also passed by a large majority. As Lord Campbell has pronounced the above argument unanswerable.! it may interest the young reader to know how it was actually answered by the Americans, and why they denied the right of Parliament to lay internal taxes upon them. 1. They owed their existence not to Parlia- ment, but to the Crown. The King, in the ex- ercise of the high sovereignty then conceded to him, had made them by charter complete civil communities^ with Legislatures of their own hav- ing power to lay taxes and do all other acts which were necessary to their subsistence as distinct governments. Hence, 2. They stood substantially on the same foot- ing as Scotland previous to the Union. Like her they were subject to the Navigation Act, and similar regulations touching the external rela- tions of the empire ; and like her the ordinary legislation of England did not reach them, nor did the common law any farther than they chose to adopt it. Hence, 3. They held themselves amenable in their internal concerns, not to Parliament, but to the Crown alone. It was to the King in council or to his courts, that they made those occasional refer- ences and appeals, which Lord Mansfield endeav- ors to draw into precedents. So " the post tax" spoken of above, did not originate in Parliament, but in a charter to an individual which afterward reverted to the Crown, and it was in this way alone that the post-office in America became con- nected with that of- England. It was thus that the Americans answered the first three of Lord Mansfield's direct arguments (p. 1 49-50) . Their charters made them dependent not on Parliament, but on the Crown ; and their submission to En- glish authority, much as it involved their pecuni- ary interests, was rendered only to the latter. Weak as they were, the colonists had sometimes to temporize, and endure an occasional over- reaching by Parliament. It was not always easy 1766.] TAXING AMERICA. 153 to draw the line between the laws of trade, to which they held themselves subject, and the general legislation of Parliament. But they considered it clear that their charters exempted them from the latter, giving it to their own Leg- islatures. — See Massachusetts State Papers, p. 351 . On this ground, then, they denied the right of Parliament to tax them. It is a striking fact in confirmation of these views, as mentioned by Mr. Daniel Webster, that the American Decla- ration of Independence does not once refer to the British Parliament. They owed it no allegiance, their only obligations were to the King ; and hence the causes which they assigned for break- ing off from the British empire consisted in his conduct alone, and in his confederating with oth- ers in ^''pretended acts of legislation." They had, however, a second argument, that from long-continued usage. Commencing their existence as stated above, the British Parliament had never subjected them to internal taxation. When this was attempted, at the end of one hund- red and fifty years, they used the argument of Mr. Burke, '''You were not wont to do these things from the beginning f'"^ and while his inference was, "Your taxes are inexpedient and unwise," theirs was, "You have no right to lay them." Long-continued usage forms part of the English Constitution. Many of the rights and privileges of the people rest on no other foundation ; and a usage of this kind, commencing with the very existence of the colonies, had given them the ex- clusive right of intei-nal taxation through their own Legislatures, since they maintained their in- stitutions at their own expense without aid from the mother country. To give still greater force to this argument, the Americans appealed to the monstrous consequences of the contrary supposi- tion. If, as colonies, after supporting their own governments, they were liable to give England what part she chose of their earnings to support her government — one twentieth, one tenth, one half each year, at her bidding — they were no longer Englishmen, they w^ere vassals end slaves. When George the Third, therefore, undertook to lay taxes in America and collect them at the point of the bayonet, he invaded their privileges, he dissolved the connection of the colonies with the mother country, and they were of right free. A third argument was that of Lord Chatham. " Taxation," said his Lordship, " is no part of the governing or legislative power." A tax bill, from the very words in which it is framed, is "a gift and grant of the Commons alone," and the concurrence of the Peers and Crown is only nec- essary to give it the form of law. " When, therefore, in this House," said his Lordship, "we give and grant, we give and grant what is our own. But in an American tax what do we do? We, your Majesty's Commons for Great Britain, give and grant to your Majesty — What? Our own property ? No. We give and grant to your Majesty the property of your Majesty's subjects in America ! It is an absurdity m terms !" To this Lord Mansfield could only reply, as he does in his fourth direct argument (p. 150). " Amer- ica is virtually represented in the House of Com- mons." But this, as Lord Campbell admits, is idle and false. A virtual repi-esentation there may be of particular classes (as of minors and females), who live intermingled in the same com- munity with those who vote ; but a virtual rep- resentation of a whole people three thousand miles ofl', with no intermingling of society or in- terests, is beyond all doubt " an absurdity in terms." The idea is contrary to all English usage in such cases. When the Scotch were incorporated with the English in 1705, they were not considered as "virtually represented" in the English Parliament, but were allowed to send representatives of their own. It was so, also, with Wales, Chester, and Durham, at an earlier period. Nothing, in fact, could be more adverse to the principles of the English Constitution than the idea of the "virtual representation" of three millions of people living at the distance of three thousand miles from the body of English electors. But if not virtually represented, the Americans were not represented at all. A bill giving away their property was, therefore, null and void — as much so as a bill would be if passed by the House of Lords, levying taxes on the Commons of En- gland. Under the English Constitution, repre- sentation of some kind is essential to taxation. Lord Mansfield's last argument (p. 151) is, that " the distinction between external and in- ternal taxation is a false one." According to him, as Parliament, in cai'rying out the Naviga- tion Act, laid external taxes aflfecting the colonies, Parliament was likewise authorized to lay intern- al taxes upon them. The answer is given by Mr. Burke. The duties referred to were simply incidental to the Navigation Act. They were used solely as instruments of carrying it out, of checking trade and directing its channels. They had never from the first been regarded as a means of revenue. They stood, therefore, on a footing entirely different from that of internal taxes, which were " the gift and grant of the Commons alone." The distinction between them was absolute and entire ; and any attempt to confound them, and to take money on this ground from those who are not represented in Parliament, was subversive of the English Constitution.^ Such w'cre the arguments of the Americans ; and the world has generally considered them as forming a complete answer to the reasonings of Lord Mansfield. 1 The reader will find this distinction fully drawn out in Mr. Burke's Speech on American Taxation, page 249, 250. He there shows, tliat during the whole operation of the Navigation Laws, down to 1764, " a parliamentary revenue thence was never once in contemplation; that "the words which dis- tinguish revenue laws, specifically as such, were premeditatedly avoided ;" and that all duties of this kind previous to that period, stood on the ground of mere "commercial regulation and restraint." lo4 LORD MANSFIELD WHEN SURROUNDED BY A MOB. [1768. SPEECH OF LORD MANSFIELD WHEN SURROUNDED BY A MOB IN THE COURT OF THE KING'S BENCH, ON A TRIAL RESPECTING THE OUTLAWRY OF JOHN WILKES, ESQ., DELIVERED JANUARY 8, 1768. INTRODUCTION. In 1761, Mr. Wilkes was prosecuted for a seditious libel upon the King:, and for aa obscene and impious publication entitled an Essay on Women. Verdicts were obtained against him under both these prose- cutions, and, as he had fled the country, and did not appear to receive sentence, he was outlawed in the sheriff's court for the county of Middlesex on the 12th of July, 1764. In 1768 he returned to England, and applied to the Court of the King's Bench for a reversal of the outlawry; alleging, among other things, that the sheriff's writ of exegent was not technically correct in its wording, since he merely described the court as "my county court," whereas he ought to have added a description of the place, viz., " of Middlesex." Mr. Wilkes was now the favorite of the populace. Tumultuous meetings were held in his behalf in va- rious parts of the metropolis; riots prevailed to an alarming extent; the Mansion House of the Lord Maj^or was frequently assailed by mobs ; members of Parliament were attacked or threatened in the streets ; and great fears were entertained for the safety of Lord Mansfield and the other judges of the Court of the King's Bench during the trial. On the 8th of June, 1768, the decision was given, the court being surrounded by an immense mob, waiting the result in a highly excited state. Under these circum- stances, Lord Mansfield, after reading his decision for a time, broke off suddenly, and, turning from the case before him, addressed to all within the reach of his voice a few words of admonition, in which we can not admire too much the dignity and firmness with which he opposed himself to the popular rage, and the per- fect willingness he showed to become a victim, if necessaiy, for the support of law. SPEECH, &c.^ But here let me pause. It is fit to take some notice of various terrors being out — the numerous crowds which have at- tended and now attend in and about the hall, out of all reach of hearing what passes in court, and the tumults which, in otlier places, have shame- fully insulted all order and government. Auda- cious addresses in print dictate to us, from those they call the people., the judgment to be given now, and afterward upon the conviction. Rea- scrras of policy are urged, from danger in the kingdom by commotions and general confusion. Give me leave to take the opportunity of this great and respectable audience to let the whole world know all such attempts are vain. Unless we have been able to find an error which bears us out to reverse the outlawry, it must be affirm- ed. The Constitution does not allow reasons of state to influence our judgments : God forbid it should ! We must not regai'd political conse- quences^ how formidable soever they might be. If rebellion was the certain consequence, we are bound to say, " Fiat justitia, ruat caelum."^ The Constitution trusts the King with reasons of state and policy. He may stop prosecutions ; he may pardon offenses ; it is his to judge whether the law or the criminal shall yield. We have no election. None of us encouraged or approved the commission of either of the crimes of which the defendant is convicted. None of us had any hand in his being prosecuted. As to myself, I took no part (in another place) in the addresses From Burrows Reports, iv., 2561. * Be justice done, though heaven in ruii s fall. for that prosecution. We did not advise or as- sist the defendant to fly from justice ; it was his own act, and he must take the consequences. None of us have been consulted or had any thing to do with the present prosecution. It is not in our power to stop it ; it was not in our power to bring it on. We can not pardon. We are to say what we take the law to be. If we do not speak our real opinions, we prevaricate with God and our own consciences. I pass over many anonymous letters I have received. Those in print are public, and some of them have been brought judicially before the court. Whoever the writers ai-e, they take the wrong ivay ! I will do my duty unawed. What am I to fear? That "mendax infamia" [lying scandal] from the press, which daily coins false facts and false motives ? The lies of calumny cany no terror to me. I trust that the temper of my mind, and the color and conduct of my life, have given me a suit of armor against these arrows. If during this King's reign I have ever supported his government, and assisted his meas- ures, I have done it without any other reward than the consciousness of doing what I thought right. If I have ever opposed, I have done it upon the points themselves, without mixing in party or faction, and without any collateral views. I honor the King and respect the peo- ple ; but many things acquired by the favor of either are, in my account, objects not worthy of ambition. I wish popularity, but it is that pop- ularity which follows, not that which is run aft- er. It is that popularity which, sooner or later, never fails to do justice to the pursuit of noble 1769.] LORD MANSFIELD IN THE CASE OF EVANS. 155 ends by noble means. I will not do that which my conscience tells me is wrong upon this occa- sion, to gain the huzzas of thousands, or the daily praise of all the papers which come from the press. I will not avoid doing what I think is right, though it should draw on me the whole artillery of libels — all that falsehood and malice can invent, or the credulity of a deluded popu- lace can swallow. I can say with a great mag- istrate, upon an occasion and under circumstan- ces not unlike, " Ego hoc animo semper fui, ut invidiam virtute partam, gloriam non invidiam, putarem."^ The threats go farther than abuse — pei'sonal violence is denounced. I do not believe it. It is not the genius of the worst of men of this countrj', in the worst of times. But I have set ray mind at rest. The last end that can happen to any man never comes too soon, if he falls in support of the law and liberty of his country (for liberty is synonymous with law and government). Such a shock, too, might be productive of pub- lie good. It might awake the better pai't of the kingdom out of that lethargy which seems to have benumbed them, and bring the mad part back to their senses, as men intoxicated are sometimes stunned into sobriety. Once for all, let it be undei'stood, that no en- deavors of this kind will influence any man who at present sits here. If they had any effect, it would be contrary to their intent ; leaning against their impression might give a bias the other way. But I hope and I know that I have fortitude enough to resist even that weakness. No libels, no threats, nothing that has happened, nothing that can happen, will weigh a feather against allowing the defendant, upon this and every other question, not only the wiiole advant- age he is entitled to from substantial law and justice, but every benefit from the most critical nicety of form which any other defendant could claim under the like objection. The only effect I feel is an anxiety to be able to explain the grounds on which "we proceed, so as to satisfy all mankind " that a flaw of form given way to in this case, could not have been got over in any other." Lord Mansfield now resumed the discussion of the case, and stated in respect to the inser- tion of the qualifying phrase "of Middlesex," mentioned above, that " a series of authorities, unimpeachcd and vincontradicted, have said such w^ords are formally necessary ; and such author- ity, though begun without law, reason, or com- mon sense, ought to avail the defendant." He therefore (with the concurrence of the other judges) declared a reversal ; adding, "I beg to be understood, that I ground my opinion singly on the authority of the cases adjudged ; which, as they are on the favorable side, in a criminal case highly penal, I think ought not to be de- parted from." This reversal, however, did not relieve Mr. Wilkes from the operations of the verdicts al- ready mentioned. Ten days after, Mr. Justice Yates" pronounced the judgment of the court, sen- tencing him to be imprisoned for twenty-two months, and to pay a fine of one thousand pounds. SPEECH OF LORD MANSFIELD IN THE CASE OF THE CHAMBERLAIN OF LONDON AGAINST ALLAN EVANS, ESQ., DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, FEBRUARY 4, 1769. INTRODUCTION. This case affords a striking^ example of the abuses which spring up under a religious establishment. The city of London was in want of a new mansion bouse for the Lord Mayor, and resolved to build one on a scale of becoming magnificence. But, as the expense would be great, some ingenious churchmen devised a plan for extorting a large part of the money out of the Dissenters, who had for a number of yeai-s been growing in business and property, under the protection of the Toleration Act. The mode was this. A by-law of the city was passed, imposing a fine of £fiOO on any person who should be elected as sheriff and decline to serve. Some wealthy individual was then taken from the dissenting body, and, by a con- cert among the initiated, was chosen to the office of sheriff. Of course he was not expected to serve, for the Test and Corporation Acts rendered him incapable. He was, therefore, compelled to decline ; and was then fined i^600, under a by-law framed for the very purpose of extorting this money !^ Numerous appointments were thus made, and £15,000 were actuallj- paid in ; until it came to be a matter of mere sport to " roast a Dissenter," and bring another <£600 into the treasury toward the expenses of the man- sion house. At length Allan Evans, Esq., a man of spirit, who had been selected as a victim, resolved to try the question. He refused to pay the fine, and was sued in the Sheriffs Court. Hei-e he pleaded his rights ^ This is one of those sentences of Cicero, in his first oration against CatiUne, which it is impossible to translate. Striking as the sentiment is, it owes much of its force and beauty to the fine antithesis with which it flashes upon the mind, and even to the paronomasia on the word invidiam, while its no- ble rhythraus adds greatly to the effect. To those who are not familiar with the original, the following may give a conception of the meaning: Such have always been my feelings, that I look upon odium in- curred by the practice of virtue, not as odium, but as the highest glory. ^ See Parliamentary History. 156 LORD MANSFIELD IN THE [1767. under the Toleration Act, but lost his cause. He appealed to the Court of Hustings, where the decision was affirmed. He then appealed to the Court of Common Pleas, where judgment went in his favor; the decisions of tJie courts below being unanimously reversed. The city now brought a writ of error through their Chamberlain, and carried the case before the House of Lords. Here the subject was taken up by Lord Mansfield, who, in common with all the judges but one, of the Court of the King's Bench, was of opinion that Evans was protected by the Toleration Act, and exempted from the obligation to act as sheriff. These views he maintained in the following speech, which had great celebrity at the time, and is spoken of by Lord Campbell as "one of the finest specimens of forensic eloquence to be found in our books. '"2 It was published from notes taken by Dr. Phihp Furneaux, " with his Lordship's consent and approbation." Though it has not, in everj'- part, that perfection of style for which Loi-d Mansfield was distinguished, it is certainly an admirable model of juridical eloquence, being equally remarkable for the clearness of its statements, the force of its reasonings, and the liberal and enhghtened sentiments with which it abounds. It rises toward the close into a strain of indignant reprobation, and administers a ter- rible rebuke to the city of Loudon for suffering its name to be connected with so despicable a system of extortion. SPEE My Lords, — As I made the motion for taking the opinion of the learned judges, and proposed the question your Lordships have been pleased to put to them, it may be expected that I should make some farther motion, in consequence of the opinions they have delivered. In moving for the opinion of the judges, I had two views. The first was, that the House might have the benefit of their assistance in forming a right judgment in this cause now before us, upon this writ of error. The next was, that, the ques- tion being fully discussed, the grounds of our judgment, together with their exceptions, limita- tions, and restrictions, might be clearly and cer- tainly known, as a rule to be followed hereafter in all future cases of the like nature ; and this determined me as to the manner of wording the question, " How far the defendant might, in the present case, be allowed to plead his disability in bar of the action brought against him?" The question, thus worded, shows the point upon which your Lordships thought this case turned ; and the answer necessarily fixes a cri- terion, under what circumstances, and by what persons, such a disability may be pleaded as an exemption from the penalty inflicted by this by- law, upon those w'ho decline taking upon them the olHce of sheriff. In every view in which I have been able to consider this matter, I think this action can not be supported. I. If they rely on the Corporation Act ; by the Preliminary literal and express provision of that act, groundl^of ^^ person can be elected who hath not argument, within a ycar taken the sacrament in the Church of England. The defendant hath not taken the sacrament within a year ; he is not, therefore, elected. Here they fail. If they ground it on the general design of the Legislature in passing the Corporation Act ; the design was to exclude Dissenters from office, and disable them from serving. For, in those times, when a spirit of intolerance prevailed, and severe measures were pursued, the Dissenters were reputed and treated as persons ill affected and dangerous to the government. The defend- 2 Lives of the Chancellors, v., 287. CH, &c. ant, therefore, a Dissenter, and in the eye of this law" a person dangerous and ill affected, is excluded from office, and disabled from serving. Hei-e they fail. If they ground the action on their own by- law ; that by-law was professedly made to pro- cure fit and able persons to serve the office, and the defendant is not fit and able, being expressly disabled by statute law. Here, too, they fail. If they ground it on his disability's being owing to a neglect of taking the sacrament at church, when he ought to have done it, the Toleration Act having freed the Dissenters from all obliga- tion to take the sacrament at church, the defend- ant is guilty of no neglect — no criminal neg- lect. Here, therefore, they fail. These points, my Lords, will appear clear and plain. II. The Corporation Act, pleaded by the de- fendant as rendering him ineligible to intent and this office, and incapable of taking it cl^orlti^n } upon him, was most certainly intended ^"^^ ! by the Legislature to prohibit the persons there- ! in described being elected to any corporation offices, and to disable them from taking such j offices upon them. The act had two parts : first, it appointed a commission for turning out j all that were at that time in office, w^ho would not comply with what was required as the con- dition of their continuance therein, and even gave a power to turn them out though they should comply; and then it farther enacted, that, from the termination of that commission, no person hereafter, who had not taken the sac- rament according to the rites of the Church of England within one year preceding the time of such election, should be placed, chosen, or elect- ed into ahy office of, or belonging to, the govern- ment of any corporation ; and this was done, as it was expressly declared in the preamble to the act, in order to perpetuate the succession in cor- porations in the hands of persons well affected to government in church and state. It was not their design (as hath been said) " to bring such persons into corporations by inducing them to take the sacrament in the Church of England ;" the Legislature did not mean to tempt persons who were ill affected to the gov- 1767.] CASE OF EVANS. 157 ernment occasionally to conform. It was not, I say, their design to bring them in. They could not trust them, lest they should use the power of their offices to distress and annoy the state. And the reason is alleged in the act itself. It was because there were "evil spirits" among them ; and they were afraid of evil spirits, and determined to keep them out. They therefore put it out of the power of electors to choose such persons, and out of their power to serve ; and accordingly prescribed a mark or character, laid down a description whereby they should be known and distinguished by their conduct pre- vious to such an election. Instead of appointing a condition of their serving the office, resulting from their future conduct, or some consequent action to be performed by them, they declared such persons incapable of being chosen as had not taken the sacrament in the Church within a year before such election ; and, without this mark of their affection to the Church, they could not be in office, and there could be no election. But as the law then stood, no man could have pleaded this disability, resulting from the Corpo- ration Act, in bar of such an action as is now brought against the defendant, because this dis- ability was owing to what was then, in the eye of the law, a crime ; every man being required by the canon law (received and confirmed by the statute law) to take the sacrament in the Church at least once a year. The law would not then permit a man to say that he had not taken the sacrament in the Chui-ch of England ; and he could not be allowed to plead it in bar of any ac- tion brought against him. III. But the case is' quite altered since the Act Effect of the of Tolcratiou. It is now no crime Toleration Act ^-^^ ^ ^^^^^ ^^,|^q jg within thc descrip- tion of that act, to say he is a Dissenter ; nor is it any crime for him not to take the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England ; nay, the crime is, if he does it contrary to the dictates of his conscience. If it is a crime not to take the sacrament at church, it must be a crime by some law ; which must be either common or statute law, the canon law enforcing it being dependent wholly upon the statute law. Now the statute law is re- pealed as to persons capable of pleading [under the Toleration Act] that they are so and so qualified ; and therefore the canon law is re- pealed with regard to those persons. If it is a crime by common law, it must be so either by usage or principle. But there is no usage or custom, independent of positive law, which makes nonconformity a crime. The eter- nal principles of natural religion are part of the common law. The essential principles of re- vealed religion are part of the common law; so that any person reviling, subverting, or ridi- culing them, may be prosecuted at common law. But it can not be show^n, from the principles of natural or revealed religion, that, independent of positive law, temporal punishments ought to be inflicted for mere opinions with respect to particular modes of worship. Persecution for a sincei'e thorgh erroneous conscience is not to be deduced from reason or the fitness of things. It can only stand upon positive law. IV. It has been said (1 .) That " the Toleration Act only amounts to an exemption Refutntionof of the Protestant Dissenters from the pi^i'itin's ar- , . n .1 , . gumeuts. penalties of certam laws therem par- ticularly mentioned, and to nothing more ; thnt, if it had been intended to bear, and to have any operation upon the Corporation Act, the Corpo- ration Act ought to have been mentioned there- in ; and there ought to have been some enacting clause, exempting Dissenters from prosecution in consequence of this act, and enabling them to plead their not having received the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England in bar of such action." But this is much too limited and narrow a conception of the Tolera- tion Act, which amounts consequentially to a great deal more than this ; and it hath conse- quentially an inference and operation upon the Corporation Act in particular. The Toleration Act renders that which was illegal before, now legal. The Dissenters' way of worship is per- mitted and allowed by this act. It is not only exempted from punishment, but rendered inno- cent and lawful. It is established : it is put under the protection, and is not merely under the connivance of the law\ In case those who are appointed by law to register dissenting places of worship refuse on any pretense to do it, we must, upon application, send a mandamus to compel them. Now there can not be a plainer position than that the law protects nothing in that very re- spect in which it is (in the eye of the law) at the same time a crime. Dissenters, within the description of the Toleration Act, are restored to a legal consideration and capacity ; and a hundred consequences will from thence follow, which are not mentioned in the act. For in- stance, previous to the Toleration Act, it was unlawful to devise any legacy for the support of dissenting congregations, or for the benefit of dissenting ministers ; for the law knew no such assemblies, and no such persons ; and such a de- vise was absolutely void, being left to what the law called superstitious purposes. But will it be said in any court in England that such a de- vise is not a good and valid one now ? And yet there is nothing said of this in the Tolei'a- tion Act. By this act the Dissenters are fi-eed, not only from the pains and penalties of the laws therein particularly specified, but from all eccle- siastical censures, and fi'om all penalty and pun- ishment whatsoever, on account of their non- conformity, which is allowed and protected by this act, and is therefore, in the eye of the law, no longer a crime. Now, if the defendant may say he is a Dissenter ; if the law doth not stop his mouth ; if he may declare that he hath not taken the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England, without being considered as criminal; if, I say, his mouth is not stopped by the law, he may then plead his not having taken 158 LORD MANSFIELD IN THE [1767. the sacrament according- to the rites of the Church of England, in bar of this action. It is such a disabilit}^ as doth not leave him liable to any ac- tion, or to any penalty whatsoever. (2.) It is indeed said to be " a maxim in law, that a man shall not be allowed to disable him- self." But, when this maxim is applied to the present case, it is laid down in too large a sense. When it is extended to comprehend a legal dis- ability, it is taken in too great a latitude. What ! Shall not a man be allowed to plead that he is not tit and able ? These words are inserted in the by-law, as the ground of making it ; and in the plaintifFs declaration, as the ground of his ac- tion against the defendant. It is alleged that the defendant was fit and able, and that he refused to serve, not having a reasonable excuse. It is certain, and it is hereby in effect admitted, that if he is not fit and able, and that if he hath a rea- sonable excuse, he may plead it in bar of this ac- tion. Surely he might plead that he was not worth 6£l 5,000, provided that was really the case, as a circumstance that would render him not fit and able. And if the law allows him to say that he hath not taken the sacrament accord- ing to the rites of the Church of England, being within the description of the Toleration Act, he may plead that likewise to show that he is not fit and able. It is a reasonable, it is a lawful excuse. My Lords, the meaning of this maxim, " that a man shall not disable himself," is solely this : that a man shall not disable himself by his ow^n willful crime ; and such a disability the law will not allow him to plead. If a man contracts to sell an estate to any person upon certain terms at such a time, and in the mean time he sells it to another, he shall not be allowed to say, " Sir, I can not fulfill my contract ; it is out of my power ; I have sold my estate to another." Such a plea would be no bar to an action, because the act of his selling it to another is the very bi-each of contract. So, likewise, a man who hath prom- ised marriage to one lady, and afterward marries another, can not plead in bar of a prosecution from the first lady that he is already married, because his marrying the second lady is the very breach of promise to the first. A man shall not be allowed to plead that he was drunk in bar of a criminal prosecution, though perhaps he was at the time as incapable of the exercise of reason as if he had been insane, because his drunken- ness was itself a crime. He shall not be allow- ed to excuse one crime by another. The Roman soldier, who cut off his thumbs, was not suffered to plead his disability for the service to procure his dismission with impunity, because his inca- pacity was designedly brought on him by his own willful fault. And I am glad to observe so good an agreement among the judges upon this point, who have stated it with great precision and clearness. When it was said, therefore, that " a man can not plead his crime in excuse for not doing what he is by law required to do," it only amounts to this, that he can not plead in excuse what, when pleaded, is no excuse ; but there is not in this the shadow of an objection to his pleading what is an excuse — pleading a legal disqualification. If he is nominated to be a justice of the peace, he may say, I can not be a justice of the peace, for I have not a hundred pounds a year. In like manner, a Dissenter may plead, " I have not qual- ified, and I can not qualify, and am not obliged to qualify ; and you have no right to fine me for not serving." (3.) It hath been said that " the King hath a right to the service of all his subjects." And this assertion is very true, provided it be prop- erly qualified. But surely, against the operation of this general right in particular cases, a man may plead a natural or civil disability. May not a man plead that he was upon the high seas ? May not idiocy or lunacy be pleaded, which are natural disabilities ; or a judgment of a court of law, and much more a judgment of Parliament, which are civil disabilities ? (4.) It hath been said to be a maxim " that no man can plead his being a lunatic to avoid a deed executed, or excuse an act done, at that time, because," it is said, "if he was a lunatic, he could not remember any action he did during the period of his insanity ;" and this was doctrine formerly laid down by some judges. But I am glad to find that of late it hath been generally exploded. For the reason assigned for it is, in my opinion, wholly insufiicient to support it ; be- cause, though he could not remember what pass- ed during his insanity, yet he might justly say, if he ever executed such a deed, or did such an action, it must have been during his confinement or lunacy, for he did not do it either before or since that time. As to the case in which a man's plea of in- sanity was actually set aside, it was nothing more than this : it was when they pleaded ore tenus [or verbally] : the man pleaded that he was at the time out of his senses. It was replied, How do you know that you were out of your senses ? No man that is so, knows himself to be so. And accordingly his plea was, upon this quibble, set aside ] not because it was not a valid one, if he teas out of his senses, but because they concluded he was not out of his senses. If he had alleged that he was at that time con- fined, being apprehended to be out of his senses, no advantage could have been taken of his man- ner of expressing himself, and his plea must have been allowed to be good. (5.) As to Larwood's case, he was not allow- ed the benefit of the Toleration Act, because he did not plead it. If he had insisted on his right to the benefit of it in his plea, the judgment must have been different. His inserting it in his rep- lication was not allowed, not because it was not an allegation that would have excused him if it had been originally taken notice of in his plea, but because its being not mentioned till after- ward was a departure from his plea. In the case of the Mayor of Guilford, the Tol- eration Act was pleaded. The plea was allow- ed good, the disability being esteemed a lawful one ; and the judgment was right. k ne?.] CASE OF EVANS. 159 And here the defendant hath likewise insisted on his right to the benefit of the Toleration Act. In his plea he saith he is bona fide a Dissenter, within the description of the Toleration Act ; that he hath taken the oaths, and subscribed the declaration required by that act, to show that he is not a popish recusant ; that he hath never re- ceived the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England, and that he can not in conscience do it ; and that for more than fifty years past he hath not been present at church at the celebration of the established worship, but hath constantly received the sacrament and at- tended divine service among the Protestant Dis- senters. These facts are not denied by the plaintiff, though they might easily have been traversed ; and it was incumbent upon them to have done it, if they had not known they should certainly fail in it. There can be no doubt, therefore, that the defendant is a Dissenter — an honest, conscientious Dissenter ; and no conscien- tious Dissenter can take the sacrament at church. The defendant saith he can not do it, and he is not obliged to do it. And as this is the case, as the law allows him to say this, as it hath not stopped his mouth, the plea which he makes is a lawful plea, his disability being through no crime or fault of his own. I say, he is disabled by act of Parliament, without the concurrence or intervention of any fault or crime of his own ; and therefore he may plead this disability in bar of the present action. (6.) The ease of " atheists and infidels" is out of the present question ; they come not within the description of the Toleration Act. And this is the sole point to be inquired into in all cases of the like nature with that of the defendant, who here pleads the Toleration Act. Is the man bona fide a Dissenter within the description of that act ? If not, he can not plead his disability in consequence of his not having taken the sac- rament in the Church of England. If he is, he may lawfully and with effect plead it in bar of such an action ; and the question on which this distinction is grounded must be tried by a jury. (7.) It hath been said that " this being a mat- ter between God and a man's own conscience, it can not come under the cognizance of a juiy." But certainly it may ; and, though God alone is the absolute judge of a man's religious profes- sion and of his conscience, yet there are some marks even of sincerity, among which there is none more certain than consistency. Surely a man's sincerity may be judged of by overt acts. It is a just and excellent maxim, which will hold good in this, as in all other cases, "by their fruits ye shall know them." Do they, I do not say go to meeting now and then, but do they frequent the meeting-house ? Do they join gen- erally and statedly in divine worship with dis- senting congregations ? Whether they do or not, may be ascertained by their neighbors, and by those who frequent the same places of wor- ship. In case a man hath occasionally con- formed for the sake of places of ti-ust and profit •, in that case. I imagine, a jury would not hesitate in their verdict. If a man then alleges he is a Dissenter, and claims the protection and the ad- vantages of the Toleration Act, a jury may justly find that he is not a Dissenter within the description of the Toleration Act, so far as to render his disability a lawful one. If he takes the sacrament for his interest, the jury may fairly conclude that this scruple of conscience is a false pretense when set up to avoid a burden. The defendant in the present case pleads that he is a Dissenter within the description of the Toleration Act ; that he hath not taken the sac- rament in the Church of England within one year preceding the time of his supposed elec- tion, nor ever in his whole life ; and that he can not in conscience do it. Conscience is not controllable by human laws, nor amenable to human tribunals. Persecution, or attempts to force conscience, will never pro- duce conviction, and are only calculated to make hypocrites or martyrs. V. My Lords, there never was a single in- stance, from the Saxon times down to concluding our own, in which a man w^as ever "bservations. punished for erroneous opinions concerning rites or modes of worship, but upon some positive law. The common law of England, which is only common reason or usage, knows of no pros- ecution for mere opinions. For atheism, blas- phemy, and reviling the Christian religion, there have been instances of persons prosecuted and punished upon the common law. But bare non- conformity is no sin by the common law ; and all positive laws inflicting any pains or penalties for nonconformity to the established rites and modes, arc repealed by the Act of Toleration, and Dissenters are thereby exempted from all ecclesiastical censures. What bloodshed and confusion have been oc- casioned, from the reign of Henry the Fourth, when the first penal statutes were enacted, down to the revolution in this kingdom, by laws made to force conscience ! There is nothing, certainly, more unreasonable, more inconsistent with the rights of human nature, more contrary to the spirit and precepts of the Christian religion, more iniquitous and unjust, more impolitic, than per- secution. It is against natural religion, revealed religion, and sound policy. Sad experience and a large mind taught that great man, the President De Thou, this doctrine. Let any man read the many admirable things which, though a Papist, he hath dared to ad- vance upon the subject, in the dedication of his History to Harry the Fourth of France, which I never read without rapture, and he will be fully convinced, not only how cruel, but how impoli- tic it is to prosecute for religious opinions. I am sorry that of late his countrymen have begun to open their eyes, see their error, and adopt his sentiments. I should not have broken my heart (I hope I may say it without breach of Christian charity) if France had continued to cherish the Jesuits and to persecute the Huguenots.^ This is :\ most dexterous preparation for the cut- 160 LORD MANSFIELD ON fl770. There was no occasion to revoke the Edict of Nanles. The Jesuits needed only to have ad- vised a plan similar to what is contended for in the present case, Make a law to render them incapable of office, make another to punish them for not serving. If they accept, punish them (for it is admitted on all hands that the defend- ant, in the cause before your Lordships, is pros- ecutable for taking the olnce upon him) — if they accept, punish them ; if they refuse, punish them. If they say yes, punish them ; if they say no, punish them. My Lords, this is a most exqui- site dilemma, from which there is no escaping. It is a trap a man can not get out of; it is as bad persecution as that of Procrustes. If they are too short, stretch them ; if they are too long, lop them. Small would have been their consola- tion to have been gravely told, " The Edict of Nantes is kept inviolable. You have the full benefit of that act of toleration ; you may take the sacrament in your own way with impunity ; you are not compelled to go to mass." Were this case but told in the city of London, as of a proceeding in France, \\o\\ would they exclaim against the Jesuitical distinction ? And yet, in truth, it comes from themselves. The Jesuits never thought of it. When they meant to per- secute by their act of toleration, the Edict of Nantes was repealed. This by-law, by which the Dissenters are to be reduced to this wretched dilemma, is a by-law of the cit}-, a local corporation, contrary to an act of Parliament, which is the law of the land ; a modern by-law of a very modern date, made long since the Corporation Act, long since the Toleration Act, in the fax^e of them, for they knew these laws were in being. It was made in some year in the reign of the late King — I forget which ; but it was made about the time of building the mansion house J ! Now, if it could be supposed the city have a power of mak- ing such a by-law, it would entirely subvert the Toleration Act, the design of which was to ex- empt the Dissenters from all penalties ; for by such a by-law they have it in their power to make every Dissenter pay a fine of six hundred pounds, or any sum they please, for it amounts to that. The professed design of making this by-law was to get fit and able persons to serve the oflice ; and the plaintiff" sets forth in his declara- tion, that, if the Dissenters are excluded, they shall want fit and able persons to serve the oflftce. But, were I to deliver my own suspi- cion, it would be, that they did not so much wish for their services as their fines. Dissenters have been appointed to this office, one who was blind, another who was bed-ridden ; not, I suppose, on account of their being fit and able to sei've the office. No : they were disabled both by nature and by law. We had a case lately in the courts below, of a person chosen mayor of a corporation while he was beyond seas with his Majesty's troops in America, and they knew him to be so. Did they want him to serve the office ? No ; it was impossible. But they had a mind to continue the former mayor a year longer, and to have a pretense for setting aside him who was now chosen, on all future occasions, as having been elected before. In the case before your Lordships, the defend- ant was by law incapable at the time of his pre- tended election ; and it is my firm persuasion that he was chosen because he was incapable. If he had been capable, he had not been chosen, for they did not want him to serve the office. They chose him because, without a breach of the law, and a usurpation on the Crown, he could not serve the oflftce. They chose him, that he might fall under the penalty of their by-law, made to serve a particular purpose ; in opposi- tion to which, and to avoid the fine thereby im- posed, he hath pleaded a legal disability, ground- ed on two acts of Parliament. As I am of opin- ion that his plea is good, I conclude with moving your Lordships, " That the judgment be afl^irmed." The judgment was accordingly affirmed, and an end put to a system of extortion so mean and scandalous, that it seems difficult to ijnderstand, at the present day, how an English community could have endured, or English courts have up- held, it for a single hour. SPEECH OF LORD MANSFIELD ON A BILL TO DEPRIVE PEERS OF THE REALM OF CERTAIN PRIVILEGES, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, MAY 8, 1770. INTRODUCTION. This speech is the best specimen extant of Lord Mansfield's parliamentary eloquence. It has that felicity of statement and clearness of reasoning for which he was so much distinguished, connected with an ardor and elevation of sentiment, that give double force to every argument he uses. The style is un- commonly chaste and polished. It has a conversational ease, and yet entire dignity throughout, which have made it the favorite of all who love pure and simple English. ting rebuke which follows. Nothing could be more mortifying to the citizens of London, among whom the fires of Smithfield had left a traditional horror of Popish cruelty, than to be thus held out to the world as more cruel and Jesuitical than the detested persecutors of the French Huguenots. 2770.] DEPRIVING PEERS OF CERTAIN PRIVILEGES. 161 SPEE My Lords, — When I consider the importance of this bill to your Lordships. I am not surprised it has taken so much of your consideration. It is a bill, indeed, of no common magnitude. It is no less than to take away from two thirds of the Legislative body of this great kingdom, certain privileges and immunities of which they have been long possessed. Perhaps there is no situ- ation the human mind can be placed in, that is so difficult, and so trying, as where it is made a judge in its own cause. There is something im- planted in the breast of man so attached to itself, so tenacious of privileges once obtained, that, in such a situation, either to discuss with impartial- ity, or decide with justice, has ever been held as the summit of all human virtue. The bill now in question puts your Lordships in this very pre- dicament ; and I doubt not but the wisdom of your decision will convince the w^orld, that, where self-interest and justice are in opposite scales, the latter will ever preponderate with your Lord- ships. Privileges have been granted to legislators in all ages and in all countries. The practice is founded in wisdom ; and, indeed, it is peculiarly essential to the Constitution of this country, that the members of both Houses should be free in their persons in cases of civil suits ; for there may come a time when the safety and welfare of this whole empire may depend upon their at- tendance in Parliament. God forbid that I should advise any measure that would in future endanger the state. But the bill before your Lordships has, I am confident, no such tendency, for it expressly secures the persons of members of either House in all civil suits. This being the case, I confess, when I see many noble Lords, for whose judgment I have the greatest respect, standing up to oppose a bill which is calculated merely to facilitate the recovery of just and legal debts, I am astonished and amazed. They, I doubt not, oppose the bill upon public principles. I would not wish to insinuate that private interest has the least weight in their determination. This bill has been frequently proposed, and as frequently miscarried ; but it was always lost in the Lower House. Little did I think, when it had passed the Commons, that it possibly could have met with such opposition here. Shall it be said that you, my Lords, the grand council of the nation, the highest judicial and legislative body of the realm, endeavor to evade by privilege those very laws which you enforce on your fellow- subjects ? Forbid it, justice. I am sure, were the noble Lords as well acquainted as I am with but half the difficulties and delays that are every day occasioned in the courts of justice, under pre- tense of privilege, they would not, nay, they could not, oppose this bill. I have waited with patience to hear what ar- guments might be urged against the bill ; but I have waited in vain. The truth is, there is no argument that can weigh against it. The jus- tice and expediency of this bill are such as ren- CH, &c. der it self-evident. It is a proposition of that nature that can neither be weakened by argu- ment, nor entangled with sophistr}'. Much, in- deed, has been said by some noble Lords on the wisdom of our ancestors, and how difierently they thought from us. They not only decreed that privilege should prevent all civil suits from pro- ceeding during the sitting of Parliament, but like- wise granted protection to the very servants of members. I shall say nothing on the wisdom of our ancestors. It might perhaps appear invid- ious, and is not necessary in the present case. I .shall only say, that the noble Lords that flatter themselves with the weight of that reflection, should remember, that, as circumstances alter, things themselves should alter. Formerly it was not so fashionable either for masters or servants to run in debt as it is at present ; nor formerly were merchants or manufacturers members of Parliament, as at present. The case now is very different. Both merchants and manufacturers are, with great propriety, elected members of the Lower House. Commerce having thus got into the legislative body of the kingdom, privilege must be done away. We all know that the very soul and essence of trade are regular payments ; and sad experience teaches us that there are men who will not make their regular payments without the compulsive power of the laws. The law, then, ought to be equally open to all. Any exemption to particular men, or particular ranks of men, is, in a free commercial country, a sole- cism of the grossest nature. But I will not trouble your Lordships with ar- guments for that which is sufficiently evident without any. I shall only say a few words to some noble Lords, who foresee much inconven- ience from the persons of their servants being liable to be arrested. One noble Lord observes, that the coachman of a peer may be arrested while he is driving his master to the House, and consequently he will not be able to attend his duty in Parliament. If this was actually to hap- pen, there are so many methods by which the member might still get to the House, I can hardly think the noble Lord to be serious in his objec- tion. Another noble Lord said, that by this bill one might lose his most valuable and honest serv- ants. This I hold to be a contradiction in terms ; for he neither can be a valuable servant, nor an honest man, who gets into debt, which he neither is able nor willing to pay till compelled by law. If my servant, by unforeseen accidents, has got in debt, and I still wish to retain him, I certainly would pay the debt. But upon no principle of liberal legislation whatever can my servant have a title to set his creditors at defiance, while, for forty shillings only, the honest tradesman may be torn from his family and locked up in jail. It is monstrous injustice ! I flatter myself, however, the determination of this day will entirely put an end to all such partial proceedings for the future, by passing into a law the bill now under your Lordships' consideration. 162 LORD MANSFIELD ON DEPRIVLNG PEERS, &c. [1770. I now come to speak upon what, indeed, I would have gladly avoided, had I not been par- ticularly pointed at for the part I have taken in this bill. It has been said by a noble Lord on my left hand that I likewise am running the race of popularity. If the noble Lord means by pop- ularity that applause bestowed by after ages on good and virtuous actions, I have long been strug- gling in that race, to what purpose all-trying time can alone determine. But if the noble Lord means that mushi-oom popularity which is raised without merit, and lost without a crime, he is much mistaken in his opinion. I defy the noble Lord to point out a single action in my life where the popularity of the times ever had the smallest influence on my determinations. I thank God I have a more permanent and steady rule for my conduct — the dictates of my own breast. Those that have foregone that pleasing adviser, and given up their mind to be the slave of every popular impulse, I sincerely pity. I pity them still more if their vanity leads them to mistake the shouts of a mob for the trumpet of their fame. Experience might inform them that many who have been saluted with the huzzas of a crowd one day, have received their execrations the next ; and many who, by the popularity of their times, have been held up as spotless patri- ots, have nevertheless appeared upon the histori- an's page, when truth has triumphed over delu- sion, the assassins of liberty. Why, then, the noble Lord can think I am am- bitious of present popularity, that echo of folly and shadow of renown, I am at a loss to determ- ine. Besides, I do not know that the bill now before your Lordships will be popular. It de- pends much upon the caprice of the day. It may not be popular to compel people to pay their debts ; and in that case the present must be an unpopular bill. It may not be popular, neither, to take away any of the privileges of Parliament ; for I very well remember, and many of your Lordships may remember, that not long ago the popular cry was for the extension of privilege. And so far did they carry it at that time, that it was said that privilege protected members from criminal actions ; nay, such was the power of popular prejudices over weak minds, that the very decisions of some of the courts were tinc- tured with that doctrine.! It was undoubtedly an abominable doctrine. I thought so then, and think so still. But, nevertheless, it was a popular doctrine, and came immediately from those who were called the friends of liberty, how deservedly time will show. True liberty, in my opinion, can only exist when justice is equally adminis- tered to all — to the King and to the beggar. Where is the justice, then, or where is the law, that protects a member of Parliament more than any other man from the punishment due to his crimes ? The laws of this country allow no place nor employment to be a sanctuary for crimes; and, where I have the honor to sit as judge, neither royal favor nor popular applause shall ever protect the guilty. I have now only to beg pardon for having em- ployed so much of your Lordships' time ; and I am very sorry a bill, fraught with so good con- sequences, has not met with an abler advocate ; but I doubt not your Lordships' determination will convince the world that a bill, calculated to contribute so much to the equal distribution of justice as the present, requires, with your Lord- ships, but very little support. The act was finally passed. 1 This refers to the case of Mr. Wilkes, who was arrested under a general warrant for a seditious libel on the King. He was taken before the Court of Common Pleas by a writ of Habeas Corpus, and there pleaded his privilege against arrest as a mem- ber of Parliament. The court, with Lord Camden at their head, unanimously decided, that members were free from arrest in all cases except treason, felony, and actual breach of the peace. Whatever may have been the merits of this case, it was un- worthj' of Lord Mansfield to sneer at Lord Camden and his associates as "weak minds." "As author- ities then stood," says Lord Campbell, " I think a court of law was bound to decide in favor of privi- lege in such a case." This, it is believed, has been the general sentiment of the English bar; while all agree that this extension of privilege to criminal cases was wrong in principle, and was very prop- erly set aside a short time after, by a joint resolu- tion of the two houses of Parliament. JUNIUS. STAT NOMINIS UMBRA. i The Letters of Junius have taken a permanent place in the eloquence of our language. Though often false in statement and malignant in spirit, they will never cease to be read as specimens of pow^erful composition : For the union of brilliancy and force, there is nothing superior to them in our literature. Nor is it for his style alone that Junius deserves to be studied. He shows great rhetorical skill in his mode of developing a subject. There is an arrangement of a given mass of thought, which serves to throw it upon the mind with the greatest possible effect. There is another arrangement which defeats its object, and renders the impression feeble or indistinct. Demosthenes was, of all men, most perfectly master of the one ; the majority of ex- temporaneous speakers are equally good examples of the other. Junius had evidently studied this subject with great care ; and it is for the sake of urging it upon the young orator that some of the ablest of his productions will now be given. Happily, the selection is easy. There are ten or twelve of his letters which stand far above the rest for strength of thought and elegance of diction. These will be found below, with the exception of his Letters to Lord Mansfield, which, though highly finished in respect to style, are now universally condemned for their errors, both in law and fact, and their unmerited abuse of the greatest of English jurists. In regard to his treatment of others, it is hardly necessary to say that the statements of Juiiius are to be taken with great allowance. He was an unscrupu- lous political partisan ; and though much that he said of the Duke of Grafton and the other objects of his vengeance was strictly true, they were by no means so weak or profligate as he here represents them. We might as well take Pope's Satires for a faithful exhibition of men and manners in the days of George IL It is, therefore, only as an orator — for such he undoubtedly was in public life, and such he truly is in these letters — that we are now to consider him. Li this char- acter his writings are worthy of the closest study, especially in respect to the quality alluded to above. Each of these letters was the result of severe and protracted labor. We should have known it, if he had not himself avowed the fact, for we see every where the marks of elaborate forecast and revision ; and we learn, from his private correspondence with Woodfall, that he expended on their composition an amount of anxiety and efibrt which hardly any other writer, especially one so proud, would have been wilhng to acknowledge. Yet it is certain that by far the greater part of all this toil was bestowed, not upon the language, but on the selection and ar- rangement of his ideas. His mind, in early life, had clearly been subjected to the severest logical training. Composition, with him, was the creation of a system of thought, in which every thing is made subordinate to a just order and sequence of ideas. One thought grows out of another in regular succession. His reasonings 1 This celebrated motto was taken from the first book of Lucan's Pharsalia, line 135. The poet there speaks of Pompey, when he entered into the war with Cesar, as having his name, or repu- tation, chiefly in the past ; and adds, in reference to this idea, " Stat magni nominis umbra" — He stands the shadow of a mighty name. When the author of these letters collected them into a volume, he beautifully appropriated these words to himself, with the omission of the word magni, and a change of application. He placed them on the title-page, in connection with the word Junius, which " stands the shadow of a name," whose secret was intrusted to no one, and was never to be revealed. 164: JUNIUS. often take the form of a syllogism, though usually with the omission of one of the terms ; and we never find him betrayed into that careless diffusion of style so com- mon with those who are ignorant of the principles of logic. In this respect, the Avritings of Junius will amply repay the closest study and analysis. Let the young orator enter completely into the scope and design of the author. Let him watch the under-current of his thoughts and feelings. Let him observe how perfectly every thing coincides to produce the desired impression — the statement of principles and the reference to facts, the shadings of thought and the colorings of imagery. Let him take one of the more striking passages, and remark the dexterous preparation by which each of its several parts is so shaped that the leading thoughts come for- ward to the best advantage ; clear in all their relations, standing boldly out, unen- cumbered by secondaiy ideas, and thus fitted to strike the mind with full and undi- vided force. Such a study of Junius will prepare the young reader to enter into the Logic of Thought. It will lead to the formation of a severe intellectual taste, which is the best guard against the dangers of hasty composition, and the still greater dan- gers of extemporaneous speaking. Such speaking can not be dispensed with. On the contrary, it is becoming more and more essential to the success of public men in every department of life. It is, therefore, of the highest importance for the student in oratory to be familiar ^vith models which shall preserve the purity of his style, and aid him in the formation of those intellectual habits Avithout which there can be neither clearness, nor force, nor continuity of thought in extemporaneous speaking. One of our most eloquent advocates, the late William Wirt, whose early training was of a different kind, remarked, in an address delivered not long before his death, that here lay the chief deficiency of our public speakers — that the want of severe intellectual discipline was the great want of American orators. There is also another lesson to be learned from Junius, viz., the art of throiuing aivay icnnecessai-y ideas. A large proportion of the thoughts which rise to the mind in first considering a subject, are not really essential to its clear and full develop- ment. No one ever felt this more strongly than Junius. He had studied in the school of the classics ; he had caught the spirit of the Grecian oratory ; and he knew that the first element of its power was a rigid scrutiny of the ideas to be brought forward, and a stern rejection of every form of thought, however plausible or attract- ive, which was not clearly indispensable to the attainment of his object. He learned, too, in the same school, another lesson of equal importance, in relation to the ideas selected for use. He saw how much could be done to abridge their statement, and set aside the necessity of qualifying terms and clauses, by such an arrangement of the leading thoughts that each should throw light upon the other, and all unite in one full, determinate impression. Our language is, indeed, poorly fitted for such pur- poses. It is a weak and imperfect instrument compared with others, whose varied inflections and numerous illative particles afford the readiest means of graceful trans- ition, and of binding ideas together in close-compacted masses. Such as it is, how- ever, Junius has used it to the utmost advantage. In his best passages, there is a fine compression of thought, arising from the skillful disposition of his materials, which it is far more easy to admire than to imitate. Not an idea is excluded which could promote his object. It is all there, but in the narrowest compass. The stroke is a single one, because nothing more is needed ; and it takes its full effect, because there is nothing in the way to weaken the force of the blow. He has thus given us some of the best specimens in our language of that " rich economy of expression," which was so much studied by the great writers of antiquity. There is only one more characteristic of Junius which will here be noticed. It is the wonderful power he possessed of insi7iuating ideas into the mind without giving them a formal or direct expression. Voltaire is the only writer who ever en- ,^<.-'- y JUNIUS. 165 joyed this power in an equal degree, and he used it chiefly in his hours of gayety and sport. Junius used it for the most serious purposes of his life. He made it the instrument of torturing his victims:/ It is a curious inquiry why this species of in- direct attack is so peculiarly painful to persons of education and refinement. The question is not why they sufler more than others from contempt and ridicule, but why sarcasm, irony, and the other forms of attack by inmiuation, have such extraordina- ry power to distress their feelings. Perhaps the reason is, that such persons are pe- culiarly qualified to understand and appreciate these forms of ingenious derision. The ignorant and vulgar have no power to comprehend them, and are therefore beyond their reach. But it is otherwise with men of cultivated minds. It is impossible for such men not to admire the efforts of genius ; and when they find these efforts turned against themselves, and see all the force of a subtle intellect employed in thus dex- terously insinuating suspicion or covering them with ridicule, whatever may be their consciousness of innocence, they can not but feel deeply. Coarse invective and re- proachful language would be a relief to the mind. Any one can ciy " fool," " liar," or " scoundrel." But to sketch a picture in which real traits of character are so in- geniously distorted that every one will recognize the likeness and apply the name, requires no ordinary force of genius ; and it is not wonderful that men of the firmest spirit shrink from such an assailant. We have seen how Lord Mansfield " suffered" under inflictions of this kind from Lord Chatham, till he could endure them no longer, and abruptly fled the contest. In addition to this, he who is thus assailed knows that the talent which he feels so keenly will be perfectly understood by others, and that attacks of this kind diffuse their influence, like a subtle poison, throughout the whole republic of letters. They will be read, he is aware, not only by that large class who dwell with malicious delight on the pages of detraction, but by multitudes whose good opinion he prizes most highly — in whose minds all that is dear to him in reputation will be mingled with images of ridicule and contempt, which can not fail to be remembered for their ingenuity, how much soever they may be condemned for their spirit. For these and perhaps other reasons, this covert mode of attack has al- vv'ays been the most potent engine of wounding the feelings and destroying charac- ter. Vjunius had not only the requisite talent and bitterness to wield this engine witSnerrible effect, but he stood on a vantage ground in using it, such as no other writer ever enjoyed. He had means of secret information, which men have labored in vain to trace out or conceive of. His searching eye penetrated equally into the retired circles of domestic life, the cabinets of ministers, and the closet of the King.^ Persons of the highest rank and most callous feelings were filled with alarm when they found their darkest intrigues laid open, their most hidden motives detected, their duplicity and tergiversation exposed to view, and even their private vices blazoned before the eyes of the public. Nor did Junius, on these points, very scrupulously confine himself to the truth. He gave currency to some of the basest slanders of the day, which he could not but know were unfounded, in order to blacken the char- 2 The following is a curious instance. About two years after these Letters were commenced, Garrick learned confidentially from Woodfall that it was doubtful whether Junius would continue to write much longer. He flew instantly with the news to Mr. Ramus, one of the royal pages, who hastened with it to the King, then residing at Richmond. Within two days, Garrick received, through Woodfall, the following note from Junius : " I am verj' exactly informed of your impertinent inquiries, and of the information you so busily sent to Richmond, and with what triumph and exultation it was received. I knew every particu- lar of it the next day. Now, mark me, vagabond ! keep to your pantomimes, or be assured you shall hear of it. Meddle no more, thou busy informer ! It is in my power to make you curse the houi- in which you dared to interfere with Junius." Miss Seward states, in her Letters, that on the evening after the receipt of this note, Garrick, for once in his hfe, played badly. 166 JUNIUS. acter of his opponents. He stood, in the mean time, unassailable himself, wrapped, like JEneas at the court of Dido, in the cloud around him, affording no opportunity for others to retort his accusations, to examine his past conduct, or to scan his pres- ent motives. With all these advantages, he toiled as few men ever toiled, to gain that exquisite finish of style, that perfect union of elegance and strength, which could alone express the refined bitterness of his feelings. He seemed to exult in gather- ing up the blunted weapons of attack thrown aside by others, and giving them a keener edge and a finer polish. "Ample justice," says he to one whom he assailed, " has been done by abler pens than mine to the separate merits of your life and charac- ter. Let it be my humble office to collect the scattered sweets, till their united vir- tue tortures, the sense.'" In the success of these labors he felt the proud consciousness that he was speaking to other generations besides his own, and declared concerning one of his victims, " I would pursue him through life, and try the last exertion of my abilities to jjreserve the perishahle infamy of his name, and tnake it immortal."'^ This reliance of Junius on his extraordinary powers of composition, naturally leads us to consider his style. We might pronounce it perfect, if it were only free from a slight appearance of labor, and were as easy and idiomatic as it is strong, pointed, and brilliant. But it seems hardly possible to unite all these qualities in the high- est degree. Where strength and compactness are carried to their utmost limit, there will almost of necessity be something rigid and unbending. A man in plate armor can not move with the freedom and lightness of an athlete. But Junius, on the whole, has been wonderfully successful in overcoming these difficulties. His sentences have generally an easy flow, with a dignified and varied rhythmus, and a harmoni- ous cadence. Clear in their construction, they grow in strength as they advance, and come ofi" at the close always with liveliness, and often with a sudden, stinging force. He is peculiarly happy in the choice of words. It has been said of Shak- speare, that one might as well attempt to push a brick out of its place in a well-con- structed wall, as to alter a single expression. In his finest passages, the same is true of Junius. He gives you the exact word, he brings out the most delicate shadings of thought, he throws it upon the mind with elastic force, and you say, " What is written is written !" There are, indeed, instances of bad grammar and inaccurate expression, but these may be ascribed, in most cases, to the difficulty and danger of his correcting the press. Still, there is reason to believe that he was not an author by profession. Certain words and forms of construction seem plainly to show, that he had never been trained to the minuter points of authorship. And, perhaps, for this very reason, he was a better writer. He could think of nothing but how to express his ideas with the utmost vividness and force. Hence he gave them a frank and fearless ut- terance, which, modified by a taste like his, has imparted to his best passages a per- fection of style which is never reached by mere mechanical labor. Among other things, Junius understood better than most writers where the true strength of lan- guage lies, viz., in the nouns and verbs. He is, therefore, sparing in the use of qual- ifying expressions.'' He relies mainly for effect on the frame-work of thought. In the filling out of his ideas, where qualifying terms must of course be employed, he ^ How much Junius relied for success on the perfection of his statement, may be learned from the following fact. When he had hastily thrown off a letter containing a number of coarse and un- guarded expressions, of which he was afterward ashamed, he coolly requested Woodfall to say in a subsequent number, " We have some reason to suspect, that the last letter signed Junius in this paper %cas not written by the real Junius, though the observation escaped us at the time!" There is nothing equal to this in all the annals of literature, unless it be Cicero's famous letter to Lucceius, in which he asks the historian to lie a little in his favor in recording the events of his consulship, for the sake of making him a greater man ! ^ Voltaire somewhere remarks, that the adjective is the greatest enemy of the substantive, though they agree together in gender, number, and case. JUNIUS. 167 rarely uses intensives. His adverbs and adjectives are nearly all descriptive, and are designed to shade or to color the leading thoughts with increased exactness, and thus set them before the mind in bolder relief or with more graphic effect. He em- ploys contrast also, with much success, to heighten the impression. Xo one has shown greater skill in crushing discordant thoughts together in a single mass, and giving them, by their juxtaposition, a new and startling force. Hardly any one but Demosthenes has made so happy a use of antithesis. His only fault is, that he now and then allows it to run away with his judgment, and to sink into epigram. The imagery of Junius is uncommonly brilliant. It was the source of much of his power. He showed admirable dexterity in working his bold and burning metaphors into the very texture of his style. He was also equally happy in the use of plainer images, drawn from the ordinary concerns of life, and intended not so much to adorn, as to illustrate and enforce. A few instances of each will show his wide and easy com- mand of figurative language. In w^arning his countrymen against a readiness to be satisfied with some temporary gain, at the expense of great and permanent interests, he says, " In the shipwreck of the state, trifles float and are preserved, while every thing solid and valuable sinks to the bottom and is lost forever." Speaking of the numerous Avriters in favor of the ministry, he says, " They pile up reluctant quarto upon solid folio, as if their labors, because they are gigantic, could contend with truth and heaven."^ Again, " The very sunshine you live in is a prelude to your dissolu- tion : when you are ripe, you shall be plucked." Exhorting the King no longer to give importance to Wilkes by making him the object of royal persecution, he says, " The gentle breath of peace would leave him on the surface neglected and unre- moved. It is only the tempest that lifts him from his place." And again, in a higher strain, " The rays of royal indignation collected upon him, served only to il- luminate and could not consume." The last instance of this kind which will now be cited, has been already referred to on a preceding page, as perhaps suggested by a classical allusion of Lord Chatham. If so, it is a beautiful example of the way in which one man of genius often improves upon another. Many have pronounced it the finest metaphor in our language. Speaking of the King's sacrifice of honor in not instantly resenting the seizure of the Falkland Islands, he says, " A clear, un- blemished character comprehends not only the integrity that will not offer, but the spirit that will not submit to an injury ; and whether it belongs to an individual or to a community, it is the foundation of peace, of independence, and of safety. Private credit is wealth ; public honor is security. The feather that adorns the royal bird s2tpX)orts his flight. StrijJ him of his lAumage, and you fix him to the earth'' Such are some of the characteristics of the style of Junius, which made Mr. Mathias, author of the Pursuits of Literature, rank him among the English classics, in the place assigned to Livy and Tacitus among the ancients. Heference has already been made to the violent passions of Junius, and his want of candor toward most of his opponents. Still it will be seen, from the following sen- timents contained in a private letter, that in his cooler moments he had just and elevated views concerning the design of political discussions. He is speaking of an argument he had just stated in favor of rotten boroughs, and goes on to say, " The man who fairly and completely answers this argument, shall have my thanks and my applause. My heart is already with him. I am ready to be converted. I ad- mire his morality, and would gladly subscribe to the articles of his faith. Grateful as I am to the Good Being, whose bounty has imparted to me this reasoning intellect, whatever it is, I hold myself proportionably indebted to him, whose enlightened un- derstanding communicates another ray of knowledge to mine. But neither should ^ Refernng to the story of the giants' tearing up mountains, and piling Pehon upon Ossa, in their contest with the gods. 168 JUNIUS. I think the most exalted faculties of the human mind a gift worthy of the divinity, nor any assistance in the improvement of them a subject of gratitude to my fellow- creatures, if I were not satisfied that really to inform the understanding, corrects and eidarges the hearth " Si sic omnia !" Would that all were thus I Happy were it for the character of Junius as a man, if he had always been guided as a writer by such views and feelings I Who icas Junius 7 Volumes have been written to answer this question, and it remains still undecided. At the end of eighty years of inquiry and discussion, after the claims of nearly twenty persons have been examined and set aside, only two names remain before the public as candidates for this distinction.^ They are Sir Philip Francis, and Lord George Sackville, afterward Lord George Germain. In favor and against each of these, there is circumstantial evidence of considerable weight. Neither of them has left any specimens of style which are equal in ele- gance and force to the more finished productions of Junius. Lord George Sackville, however, is far inferior in this respect. He was never a practical writer ; and it seems impossible to believe, that the mind which expressed itself in the compositions he has left us, could ever have been raised by any excitement of emotion or fervor of effort, into a capacity to produce the Letters of Junius. Sir Philip Francis was confessedly a far more able writer. He had studied composition from early life. He was diligent in his attendance on Parliament ; and he reported some of Lord Chatham's speeches with uncommon elegance and force. If we must choose be- tween the two — if there is no other name to be brought forward, and this seems hardly possible — the weight of evidence is certainly in his favor. Mr. Macaulay has summed it up with his usual ability in the following terms : " Was he the author of the Letters of Junius ? Our own firm belief is, that he was. The external evidence is, we think, such as would support a verdict in a civil, nay, in a criminal proceeding. The handwriting of Junius is the very pecu- liar handwriting of Francis, slightly disguised. As to the position, pursuits, and connections of Junius, the following are the most important facts which can be con- sidered as clearly proved : First, that he was acquainted with the technical forms of the Secretary' of State's office ; secondly, that he was intimately acquainted with the business of the War office ; thirdly, that he, during the year 1770, attended de- bates in the House of Lords, and took notes of speeches, particularly of the speeches of Lord Chatham ; fourthly, that he bitterly resented the appointment of Mr. Cha- mier to the place of deputy Secretary at War ; fifthly, that he was bound by some strong tie to the first Lord Holland. Now Francis passed some years in the Secre- tary of State's office. He was subsequently chief clerk of the War office. He re- peatedly mentioned that he had himself, in 1770, heard speeches of Lord Chatham ; and some of those speeches were actually printed from his notes. He resigned his clerkship at the War office from resentment at the appointment of Mr. Chamier. It was by Lord Holland that he was first introduced into the public service. Now, here are five marks, all of which ought to be found in Junius. They are all five found in Francis. We do not believe that more than t^vo of them can be found in any other person whatever. If this argument does not settle the question, there is an end of all reasoning on circumstantial evidence. " The internal evidence seems to us to point the same way. The style of Francis bears a strong resemblance to that of Junius ; nor are we disposed to admit, what is generally taken for granted, that the acknowledged compositions of Francis are very decidedly inferior to the anonymous letters. The argument from inferiority, at all events, is one which may be urged with at least equal force against every claim- 6 It has been shown in the London Atbenjieuin, that the recent attempts to make the younger Lyt- tleton Junius, and also a Scottish surgeon named Maclain, are entii-e failures. JUNIUS. 169 ant that has ever been mentioned, with the single exception of Burke, who certainly was not Junius. And what conclusion, after all, can be drawn from mere inferior- ity ? Every writer must produce his best work ; and the interval between his best work and his second best work may be very wide indeed. Nobody will say that the best letters of Junius are more decidedly superior to the acknowledged works of Francis, than three or four of Corneille's tragedies to the rest ; than three or four of Ben Jonson's comedies to the rest ; than the Pilgrim's Progress to the other works of Bunyan ; than Don Q^uixote to the other works of Cervantes. Nay, it is certain that the Man in the Mask, whoever he may have been, was a most unequal writer. To go no farther than the Letters which bear the signature of Junius — the Letter to the King, and the Letters to Home Tooke, have little in common except the as- perity ; and asperity was an ingredient seldom wanting either in the writings or in the speeches of Francis. " Indeed, one of the strongest reasons for believing that Francis was Junius, is the moral resemblance between the two men. It is not difficult, from the letters which, under various signatures, are known to have been written by Junius, and from his deahngs with Woodfall and others, to form a tolerably con-ect notion of his charac- ter. He was clearly a man not destitute of real patriotism and magnanimity — a man whose vices were not of a sordid kind. But he must also have been a man in the highest degree arrogant and insolent — a man prone to malevolence, and prone to the error of mistaking his malevolence for public virtue. ' Doest thou well to be angry ?' was the question asked in old time of the Hebrew prophet. And he an- swered, 'I do well.' This was evidently the temper of Junius ; and to this cause we attribute the savage cruelty which disgraces several of his Letters. No man is so merciless as he who, under a strong self-delusion, confounds his antipathies with his duties. It may be added, that Junius, though allied with the democratic party by common enmities, was the very opposite of a democratic politician. "V^Ttiile at- tacking individuals with a ferocity which perpetually violated all the laws of literary warfare, he regarded the most defective parts of old constitutions with a respect amounting to pedantry — pleaded the cause of Old Sarum with fervor, and contempt- uously told the capitalists of Manchester and Leeds that, if they wanted votes, they might buy land and become freeholders of Lancashire and Yorkshire. All this, we believe, might stand, with scarcely any change, for a character of Philip Francis."''' "^ Clmi-Ies Butler, in his Reminiscences, suggests a mixed hypothesis on this subject. He thinks that Sir Philip Francis was too young to have produced these Letters, which indicate very thorough and extensive reading, and especially a profound knowledge of human character. He mentions, likewise, that Junius shows himself in the most unaffected manner, throughout his private corre- spondence with Woodfall, to have been not only a man of high rank, but of ample fortune — prom- ising to indemnify him against any loss he might suffer from being prosecuted, a thing which Fran- cis, with a mere clerkship in the War office, was unable to do. He therefore thinks that Sir Philip may have been the organ of some older man of the highest rank and wealth, who has chosen to remain in proud obscurity. It is certain that some one acted in conjunction with Junius, for he says in his fifty-first note to Woodfall, '' The gentleman who transacts the conveyancing part of this cor- respondence, tells me there was much difficulty last night." This person was once seen by a clerk of Woodfall, as he withdrew from the door, after having thrown in a Letter of Junius. He was a person who " wore a bag and a sword," showing that he was not a mere servant, but, as Ju- nius described him, a '' gentleman." It seems probable, also, that the hand of another was used in transcribing these Letters, for Junius says concerning one of them, '* You shall have the Letter some time to-morrow ; it can not be corrected and copied before ;" and again, of another, " The in- closed, though begun within these few days, has been greatly labored. It is very correctly copied.^'' This, though not decisive, has the air of one who is speaking of what another person had been do- ing, not himself. If this be admitted, Mr. Butler suggests that these Letters may actually have been sent to Woodfall in the handwriting of Francis, without his being the original author. Still, ' he by no means considers him a mere copyist. Fi-ancis may have collected valuable information; may have given very important hints ; may even have shared, to some extent, in the composition, 170 JUNIUS. But, whatever may be thought of the origin of these Letters, it is not difRcult to understand the poUtical relations of the writer, and the feelings by which he was actuated. A few remarks on this subject will close the present sketch. The author of these Letters, as we learn from Woodfall, had been for some years an active pohtical partisan. He had written largely for the public prints under va- rious signatures, and with great ability. A crisis now arrived which induced him to come forward under a new name, and urged him by still higher motives to the utmost exertion of his powers. Lord Chatham's " checkered and dovetailed" cabinet had fallen to pieces, and the Duke of Grafton, as Junius expressed it, became " min- ister by accident," at the close of 1767. He immediately endeavored to strengthen himself on every side. He yielded to the wishes of the King by making Lord North Chancellor of the Exchequer, and by raising Mr. Jenkinson, the organ of Lord Bute, to higher office and influence. Thus he gave a decided ascendency to the Tories. On the other hand, he endeavored to conciliate Lord Rockingham and the Duke of Bedford by very liberal proposals. But these gentlemen differing as to the lead of the House, the Bedford interest prevailed ; Lord "Weymouth, a member of that fam- ily, was made Secretary of the Home Department ; while Lord Rockingham was sent back to the ranks of Opposition under a sense of wrong and insult. Six months, down almost to the middle of 1768, were spent in these negotiations and arrangements. These things wrought powerfully on the mind of Junius, who was a Grenville ox Rockingham Whig. But in addition to this, he had strong private animosities. He not only saw with alarm and abhorrence the triumph of Tory principles, but he cher- ished the keenest personal resentment toward the King and most of his ministers. Those, especially, who had deserted their former Whig associates, he regarded as traitors to the cause of liberty. He therefore now determined to give full scope to his feelings, and to take up a system of attack far more galling to his opponents than had ever yet been adopted. One thing was favorable to such a design. Parliament w^as to expire within a few months ; and every blow now struck would give double alarm and distress to the government, while it served also to inflame the minds of the people, and rouse them to a more determined resistance in the approaching elec- tions. Accordingly, at the close of the Christmas holidays, when the business of the session really commences, he addressed his first Letter to the printer of the Public Advertiser, under date of January 21, 1769. It was elaborated with great care; but its most striking peculiarity was the daring spirit of personal attack by which it was characterized. Junius, for the first time, broke through the barriers thrown around the monarch by the maxim, " the King can do no wrong." He assailed him like any other man, though in more courtly and guarded language. Assuming an air of great respect for his motives, he threw out the most subtle insinuations, mingled with the keenest irony, as to his " love of low intrigue," and " the treacherous amuse- ment of double and triple negotiations." It was plainly his intention not only to distress, but to terrify. He represented the people as driven to the verge of despera- tion. He hinted at the possible consequences. He spoke of the crisis as one " from which a reasonable man can expect no remedy but poison, no relief but deaths He attacked the ministry in more direct terms, commenting with great severity on the or, at least, the revision of the Letters ; for the writer was plainly not an author by profession. In short, Francis may have been to him, in respect to these Letters, what Burke was more fully to Lord Rockingham, and what Alexander Hamilton was at times to Washington. On this theory the government would have the same motives to buy off Sir Philip Francis, a thing they seem plainly to have done when these Letters stopped so suddenly in 1772. It may have been a condi- tion made by Junius in favor of his friend. To have made it for himself seems inconsistent with his whole character and bearing, both in his Letters to the public and his confidential communi- cations to Woodfall. The theory is, at least, an ingenious one, and has therefore been here stated. It has, hovs'over, very serious difficulties, as the reader will easily perceive. JUNIUS. 171 character of those who filled the prmcipal departments of state, and declaring, "We need look no farther for the cause of every mischief which befalls us." " It is not a casual concurrence of calamitous circumstances — it is the pernicious hand of govern- ment alone, that can make a whole people desperate." All this was done with a dignity, force, and elegance entirely without parallel in the columns of a newspaper. The attention of the public was strongly arrested. The poet Gray, in his corre- spondence, speaks of the absorbing power of this Letter over his mind, when he took it up casually for the first time at a country inn", where he had stopped for refreshment on a journey. He was unable to lay it down, or even to think of the food before him, un- til he had read it over and over again with the most painful interest. The same pro- found sensation was awakened in the higher political circles throughout the kingdom. Still it may be doubted ^vhether the writer, at this time, had formed any definite plan of continuing these Letters. Very possibly, except for a circumstance now to be mentioned, he might have stopped here ; and the name of Junius have been known only in our literature by this single specimen of eloquent vituperation. But he was instantly attacked. As if for the very purpose of compelHng him to go on, and of giving notoriety to his efforts, Sir "VYilliam Draper, Knight of the Bath, came out un- der his oicn signaUire, charging him with " maliciously traducing the best charac- ters of the kingdom," and going on particularly to defend the Commander in Chief, the Marquess of Granby, against the severe imputations of this Letter. Junius him- self could not have asked, or conceived of, any thing more perfectly suited to make him conspicuous in the eyes of the public. Sir William had the character of being an elegant scholar, and had gained high distinction as an officer in the army by the capture of Manilla, the capital of the Philippine Islands, in 1762. It was no light thing for such a man to throw himself into the lists without any personal provoca- tion, and challenge a combat with this unknown champion. It w^as the highest possible testimony to his powers. Junius saw his advantage. He perfectly under- stood his antagonist — an open-hearted and incautious man, vain of his literary attain- ments, and uncommonly sensitive to ridicule and contempt. He seized at once on the weak points of Sir William's letter. He turned the argument against him. He overwhelmed him with derision. He showed infinite dexterity in wresting every weap- on from his hands, and in turning all his praises of the Marquess, and apologies for his failings, into new instruments of attack. "It is yoic, Sir William, who make your friend appear awkward and ridiculous, by giving him a laced suit of taicdry qualifi- cation?, which Nature never intended him to wear I" " It is you who have taken pains to represent your friend in the character of a clrunkcn landlord, who deals out his promises as liberally as his liquor, and will sufi^er no man to leave his table either sorrowful or sober I" He then turned upon Sir William himself He glanced at some of the leading transactions of his life. He goaded him with the most hu- miliating insinuations and interrogatories. He hinted at the motives which the pub- lic would impute to him, in thus coming out from his retirement at Clifton ; and con- cluded by asking in a tone of lofty contempt, " And do you now, after a retreat not very like that of Scipio, presume to intrude yourself, unthought of, uncalled for, upon the patience of the public ?" Never was an assailant so instantaneously put on the defensive. Instead of silencing the " traducer," and making him the object of public indignation, he was himself dragged to the confessional, or rather placed as a culprit at the bar of the pubUc. His feelings at this sudden change seem much to have resembled those of a traveler in the forests of Africa, when he finds himself, without a moment's warning, wrapped in the folds of a boa constrictor, darting from above, and crushed beneath its weight. He exclaimed piteously against this " uncandid Junius," his " abominable scandals," his delight in putting men to " the rack," and " mangling their carcasses with a hatchet." He quoted Virgil, and made a feeling 172 JUNIUS. allusion to JEsop's Fables : " You bite against a file ; cease, viper I" Junius replied in three Letters, two of which will be found below. He tells Sir William that an " academical education had given him an unlimited command over the most beauti- ful figures of speech." " Masks, hatchets, racks, and vipers dance through your let- ters in all the mazes of metaphorical confusion. These are the gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination ; the melancholy madness of poetry, without the inspira- tion." As the correspondence went on. Sir William did, indeed, clear himself of the imputations thrown out by Junius affecting his personal honesty, but he was so shock- ed and confounded by the overmastering power of his antagonist, that he soon gave up the contest. Some months after, when he saw t-hese Letters collected and repub- lished in a volume, he again came forward to complain of their injustice. "-HcBret lateri letUalis arundo''^ was the savage exclamation of Junius, when he saw the writhings of his prostrate foe. Such was the first encounter of Junius before the pub- lic. The whole nation looked on with astonishment ; and from this hour his name was known as familiarly in every part of the kingdom as that of Chatham or Johnson. It was a name of terror to the King and his ministers ; and of pride and exultation to thousands throughout the empire, not only of those who sympathized in his malignant feelings, but those who, like Burke, condemned his spirit, and yet considered him en- gaged in a just cause, and hailed him as a defender of the invaded rights of the people. Junius now resumed his attack on the ministry with still greater boldness and vir- ulence. After assailing the Duke of Grafton repeatedly on individual points, he came out in two Letters, under date of May 30th and July 8th, 1769, Avith a gen- eral review of his Grace's life and conduct. These are among his most finished pro- ductions, and will be given below. On the 19th of September, he attacked the Duke of Bedford, whose interests had been preferred to those of Lord Rockingham iu the ministerial arrangements mentioned above. This Letter has even more force than the two preceding ones, and will also be found in this collection. Three months after, December 19th, 1769, appeared his celebrated Letter to the King, the longest and most elaborate of all his performances. The reader will agree with Mr. Burke in saying, " it contains many hold truths by which a Avise prince might profit." Lord Chatham now made his appearance on the stage, after an illness of three years ; and at the opening of Parliament, January 9th, 1770, took up the cause with more than his accustomed boldness and eloquence. Without partaking of the bitter spirit of Junius, he maintained his principles on all the great questions of the day, in their fullest extent. He at once declared in the face of the country, " A breach has Been made in the Constitution — the battlements are dismantled — the citadel is open to the first invader — the walls totter — the Constitution is not tenable. What remains, then, but for us to stand foremost in the breach, to repair it, or perish in it ?" The result has already been stated in connection with that and his other speech on this subject, p. 114-18. At the end of nineteen days, January 28th, 1770, the Duke of Grafton was driven from power I About a fortnight after, Junius addressed his fall- en adversary in a Letter of great force, which closes the extracts from his writings in this volume. Lord North's ministry now commenced. Junius continued his la- bors with various ability, but with little success, nearly two years longer, until, in the month of January, 1772, the King remarked to a friend in confidence, " Junius is known, and will write no more." Such proved to be the fact. His last perform- ance was dated January 21st, 1772, three years to a day from his first great Letter to the printer of the Public Advertiser. Within a few months Sir Philip Francis was appointed to one of the highest stations of profit and trust in India, at a distance of fifteen thousand miles from the seat of English politics I 8 Still rankles in his side the fatal dait. LETTERS OF JUNIUS. LETTER TO THE PRINTER "of THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER. Sir, — The .submission of a free people to the executive authority of government is no more than a compliance with laws which they them- selves have enacted. While the national honor is firmly maintained abroad, and while justice is impartially administered at home, the obedience of the subject will be voluntary, cheerful, and, I might say, almost unlimited. A generous na- tion is grateful even for the preservation of its rights, and willingly extends the respect due to the office of a good prince into an affection for his person. Loyalty, in the heart and under- standing of an Englishman, is a i*ational attach- ment to the guardian of the laws. Prejudices and passion have sometimes carried it to a crim- inal length ; and, whatever foreigners may im- agine, w^e know that Englishmen have erred as much in a mistaken zeal for particular persons and families, as they ever did in defense of what they thought most dear and interesting to them- selves. I. It naturally fills us with resentment to see such a temper insulted and abused.^ In reading 1 Dated January 21, 1769. There is great regu- laritj- ill the stnicture of this letter. The first two paragraphs contain the exordium. The transitioii follows in the third paragraph, leading to the main proposition, which is contained in the fourth, viz., " that the existing discontent and disasters of the nation were justly chargeable on the King and min- istry." The next eight paragraphs are intended to give the proof of this proposition, by reviewing the chief departments of government, and endeavoring to show the incompetency or maladministration of the men to whom they were intrusted. A recapit- ulation follows in the last paragraph but one, lead- ing to a restatement of the proposition in still broad- er terms. This is strengthened in the conclusion by the remark, that if the nation should escape from its desperate condition through some signal interposi- tion of Divine Providence, posterity would not be- lieve the history of the times, or consider it possible that England should have survived a crisis ''so full of terror and despair." - We have here the starting point of the exordi- um, as it lay originally in the mind of Junius, viz., that the English nation was "insulted and abused" by the King and ministers. But this was too strong a statement to be brought out abruptly. Junius therefore went back, and prepared the way by show- ing in successive sentences, (1.) Why a free people obey the laws — " because they have themselves en- y acted them." (2.) That this obedience is ordinarily ' cheerful, and almost unlimited. (3.) That such obe- / dience to the guardian of the laws naturally leads to a strong affection for his person. (4.) That this the hi-story of a free people, whose rights have been invaded, we are interested in their cause. Our own feelings tell us how long they ought to have submitted, and at what moment it would have been treachery to themselves not to have resisted. How much warmer will be our re- sentment, if experience .should bring the fatal example home to ourselves ! ' The situation of this country is alarming enough to rouse the attention of every man w4io pretends to a concern for the public welfare. Appearances justify suspicion ; and, when the safety of a nation is at stake, suspicion is a just ground of inquiiy. Let us enter into it with candor and decency. Respect is due to the sta- tion of ministers ; and if a resolution must at last be taken, there is none so likely to be sup- ported with firmness as that which has been adopted with moderation. • The ruin or prosperity of a state depends so affection (as shown in their history) had often been excessive among the English, who were, in fact, peculiarly liable to a "mistaken zeal for particular persons and families." Hence they were equally Uable (this is not said, but implied) to have their loyalty imposed upon ; and therefore the feeling then so prevalent was well founded, that the King, in his rash counsels and reckless choice of minis- ters, must have been taking advantage of the gen- erous confidence of his people, and playing on the easiness of their temper. If so, they were indeed insulted and abused. The exordium, then, is a complete chain of logical deduction, and the case is fully made out, provided the popular feeling re- ferred to was correct. And here we see where the fallacy of Junius lies, whenever he is in the wrong. It is in taking for granted one of the steps of his reasoning. He does not, in this case, even mention the feeling alluded to in direct terms. He knew it was beating in the hearts of the people ; his whole preceding train of thought was calculated to justify and inflame it ; and he therefore leaps at once to the conclusion it involves, and addresses them as actually filled with resentment " to see such a tem- per insulted and abused." The feeling, in this in- stance, was to a great extent well founded, and so far his logic is complete. In other cases his assump- tion is a false one. Ho lays hold of some slander of the day, some distorted statement of facts, some maxim which is only half true, some prevailing pas- sion or prejudice, and, dexterously intermingling them with a train of thought which in every other respect is logical and just, he hurries the mind to a conclusion which seems necessarily involved in the premises. Hardly any writer has so much art and plausibility in thus misleadintr the mind. 174 JUNIUS much upon the administration of its government, that, to be acquainted with the merit of a min- istry, we need only observe the condition of the people. If we see them obedient to the laws, prosperous in their industry, united at home, and respected abroad, we may reasonably presume that their affairs are conducted by men of expe- rience, abilities, and virtue. If, on the contrary, we see a universal spirit of distrust and dissat- isfaction, a rapid decay of trade, dissensions in all parts of the empire, and a total loss of respect in the eyes of foreign powers, we may pronounce, without hesitation, that the government of that country is weak, distracted, and corrupt. The multitude, in all countries, are patient to a cer- tain point. Ill usage may rouse their indigna- tion, and hurry them into excesses, but the orig- inal fault is in government.^ Perhaps there never was an instance of a change in the cir- cumstances and temper of a whole nation, so sudden and extraordinary as that which the mis- conduct of ministers has, within these very few years, produced in Great Britain. When our gracious sovereign ascended the throne, we were a flourishing and a contented people. If the per- sonal virtues of a king could have insured the happiness of his subjects, the scene could not have altered so entirely as it has done. The idea of uniting all parties, of trying all charac- ters, and distributing the offices of state by ro- tation, was gracious and benevolent to an ex- treme, though it has not yet produced the many salutary effects which were intended by it. To say nothing of the wisdom of such plan, it un- doubtedly arose from an unbounded goodness of heart, in which folly had no share. It was not a capricious partiality to new faces ; it was not a natural turn for low intrigue, nor was it the treacherous amusement of double and triple ne- gotiations. No, sir, it arose from a continued anxiety in the purest of all possible hearts for the general welfare.^ Unfortunately for us, the ^ Here is the central idea of the letter — the prop- osition to be proved in respect to the King and his ministers. The former part of this paragraph con- tains the major premise, the remainder the minor down to the last sentence, which brings out the con- clusion in emphatic terras. In order to strengthen the minor, which was the most important premise, he rapidly contrasts the condition of England before and after the King ascended the throne. In doing this, he dilates on those errors of the King which led to, and which account for, so remarkable a change. Thus the conclusion is made doubly strong. This union of severe logic with the finest rhetorical skill in filling out the premises and giving them their ut- most effect, furnishes an excellent model for the stu- dent in oratory. * In this attack on the King, there is a refined artifice, rarely if ever equaled, in leading the mind gradually forward from the slightest possible insin- uation to the bitterest irony. First we have the "uniting of all parties," which is proper and desira- ble; next, "trying all characters," which suggests decidedly a want of judgment ; then " distributing the offices of state by rotation," a charge rendered plausible, at least, by the frequent changes of min- isters, and involving (if true) a weakness little short event has not been answerable to the design. After a rapid succession of changes, w^e are re- duced to that change which hardly any change can mend. Yet there is no extremity of dis- tress which of itself ought to reduce a great na- tion to despair. It is not the disorder, but the physician ; it is not a casual concurrence of ca- lamitous circumstances, it is the pernicious hand of government, which alone can make a whole people desperate. Without much political sagacity, or any ex- traordinary depth of observation, we need only mark how the principal departments of the state are bestowed [distributed], and look no farther for the true cause of every mischief that befalls us. The finances of a nation, sinking under its debts and expenses, are committed to a young nobleman already ruined by play.^ Introduced of absolute fatuity. The way being thus prepared, what was first insinuated is now openly expressed in the next sentence. The word "folly" is applied to the conduct of the King of England in the face of his subjects, and the application rendered doubly severe by the gravest irony. Still, there is one re- lief. Allusion is made to his "unbounded goodness of heart," from which, in the preceding chain of in- sinuations, these errors of judgment had been de- duced. The next sentence takes this away. It directly ascribes to the King, with an increased se- verity of ironical denial, some of the meanest pas- sions of royalty, " a capricious partiahty for new faces," a " natural love of low intrigue," " the treach- erous amusement of double and triple negotiations !" It is unnecessary to remark on the admirable pre- cision and force of the language in these expres- sions, and, indeed, throughout the whole passage. There had been just enough in the King's conduct for the last seven years to make the people suspect all this, and to weaken or destroy their affection for the Crown. It was all connected with that system of favoritism introduced by Lord Bute, which the nation so much abhorred. Nothing but this would have made them endure for a moment such an at- tack on their monarch, and especially the absolute mockery with which Junius concludes the whole, by speaking of " the anxiety of the purest of all possible hearts for the general welfare!" His entire Letter to the King, with all the rancor ascribed to it by- Burke, does not contain so much bitterness and in- sult as are concentrated in this single passage. While we can not but condemn its spirit, we are forced to acknowledge that there is in this and many other passages of Junius, a rhetorical skill in the evolution of thought which was never surpassed by Demosthenes. ^ The Duke of Grafton, first Lord of the Treasury. It is unnecessary to remark on the dexterity of con- necting with this mention of a treasury, "sinking under its debts and expenses," the idea of its head being a gambler loaded with his own debts, and li- able continually to new distresses and temptations from his love of play. The thought is wisely left here. The argument which it implies would be weakened by any attempt to expand it. Junius often reminds us of the great Athenian orator, in thus striking a single blow, and then passing on to some other subject, as he does here to the apostasy of the Duke of Grafton, his inconsistency, caprice, and in-esolution. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER. 175 to act under the auspices of Lord Chatham, and left at the head of affairs by that nobleman's re- treat, he became a minister by accident ; but, de- serting the principles and professions which gave him a moment's popularity, we see him, from every honorable engagement to the public, an apostate by design. As for business, the world 3'et knows nothing of his talents or resolution, unless a wavering, wayward inconsistency be a mark of genius, and caprice a demonstration of spirit. It may be said, perhaps, that it is his Grace's province, as surely it is his passion, rath- er to distribute than to save the public money, and that while Lord North is Chancellor of the Exchequer, the first Lord of the Treasury may be as thoughtless and extravagant as he pleases. I hope, however, he wnll not rely too much on the fertility of Lord North's genius for finance. His Lordship is yet to give us the first proof of his abilities. It may be candid to suppose that he has hitherto voluntarily concealed his tal- ents ; intending, perhaps, to astonish the world, when we least expect it, with a knowledge of trade, a choice of expedients, and a depth of re- sources equal to the necessities, and far beyond the hopes of his country. He must now exert the whole power of his capacity, if he would wish us to forget that, since he has been in office, no plan has been formed, no system adhered to, nor any one important measure adopted for the relief of public credit. If his plan for the serv- ice of the current year be not irrevocably fixed on, let me warn him to think seriously of conse- quences before he ventures to increase the pub- lic debt. Outraged and oppressed as we are, this nation will not bear, after a six years' peace, to see new millions borrowed, without any event- ual diminution of debt or reduction of interest. The attempt might rouse a spirit of resentment, which might reach beyond the sacrifice of a min- ister.] As to the debt upon the civil list, the people of England expect that it will not be paid without a strict inquiry how it was incurred. "^ If it must be paid by Parliament, let me advise the Chancellor of the Exchequer to think of some better expedient than a lottery. To support an expensive war, or in circumstances of absolute necessity, a lottery may perhaps be allowable ; but, besides that it is at all times the very worst way of raising money upon the people, I think it ill becomes the royal dignity to have the debts of a prince provided for, like the repairs of a coun- try bridge or a decayed hospital. The manage- ^ Within about seven years, the King had run up a debt of £513,000 beyond the ample allowance made for his expenses on the civil list, and had just applied, at the opening of Parliament, for a grant to pay it off. The nation were indignant at such over- reaching. The debt, however, was paid this ses- sion, and in a few years there was another contract- ed. Thus it went on, from time to time, until 1782, when £300,000 more were paid, in addition to a large sura during the interval. At this time a par- tial provision was made, in connection with Mr. Burke's plan of economical reform, for preventing all future encroachments of this kind on the public revenues. ment of the King's affairs in the House of Com- mons can not be more disgraced than it has been. A leading minister repeatedly called down for ab- solute ignorance — ridiculous motions ridiculously withdrawn — deliberate plans disconcerted, and a week's preparation of graceful oratory lost in a moment, give us some, though not an adequate idea of Lord North's parliamentary abilities and influence.''' Yet, before he had the misfortune of being Chancellor of the Exchequer, he was nei- ther an object of derision to his enemies, nor of melancholy pity to his friends. A .series of inconsistent measures had alien- ated the colonies from their duty as subjects and from their natural affection to their common country. When Mr. Grenville was placed at the head of the treasury, he felt the impossibility of Great Britain's supporting such an establish- ment as her former successes had made indis- pensable, and, at the same time, of giving any sensible relief to foi-eign ti-ade and to the weight of the public debt. He thought it equitable that those parts of the empire which had benefited most by the expenses of the war, should contrib- ute something to the expenses of the peace, and he had no doubt of the constitutional right vest- ed in Parliament to raise the contribution. But, unfortunately for this country, Mr. Grenville was at any rate to be distressed because he was min- ister, and Mr. Pitt and Lord Camden were to be patrons of America, because they were in oppo- sition. Their declaration gave spirit and argu- ment to the colonies ; and while, perhaps, they meant no more than the ruin of a minister, they in effect divided one half of the empire from the other.^ ■' Notwithstanding these early difficulties, Lord North became at last a very dexterous and effective debater. 8 This attack on Lord Chatham and his fi-iend shows the political affinities of Junius. He believed with Mr. Grenville and Lord Rockingham in the right of Great Britain to tax America ; and in refer- ring to Mr. Grenville's attempt to enforce that right by the Stamp Act, he adopts his usual course of in- terweaving an argument in its favor into the lan- guage used. He thus prepares the way for his cen- sures on Lord Chatham and Lord Camden, affirming that they acted on the principle that " Mr. Grenville was at any rate to be distressed because he was minister and they were in opposition," thus imply- ing that they were actuated by factious and selfish views in their defense of America. About a year after this letter was written, Lord Rockingham was reconciled to Lord Chatham and Lord Camden, and all united to break down the Grafton ministry. Ju- nius now turned round and wrote his celebrated eulogium on Lord Chatham, contained in his fifty- fourth letter, in which he says, " Recorded honors shall gather round his monument, and thicken over him. It is a solid fabric, and will support the laurels that adorn it. I am not conversant in the language of panegyric. These praises are extorted from me ; but they will wear well, for they have been dearly earned." The last of his letters was addressed to Lord Camden, in which he says, "I turn with pleas- ure from that barren waste, in which no solitary plant takes root, no verdure quickens, to a charac- 276 JUNIUS Under one administration the Stamp Act is made, under the second it is repealed, under the third, in spite of all experience, a new mode of taxing the colonies is invented, and a question revived, which ought to have been buried in ob- livion. In these circumstances, a new office is established for the business of the Plantations, and the Earl of Hillsborough called forth, at a most critical season, to govern America. The choice at least announced to us a man of supe- rior capacity and knowledge. Whether he be so or not, let his dispatches as far as they have ap- peared, let his measures as far as they have oper- ated, determine for him. In the former we have seen strong assertions without proof, declamation without argument, and violent censures without dignity or moderation, but neither correctness in the composition, nor judgment in the design. As for his measures, let it be remembered that he was called upon to conciliate and unite, and that, when he entered into office, the most refractory of the colonies were still disposed to proceed by the constitutional methods of petition and remon- strance. Since that period they have been driv- en into excesses little short of rebellion. Pe- titions have been hindered from reaching the Throne, and the continuance of one of the prin- cipal assemblies put upon an arbitrary condition, which, considering the temper they were in, it was impossible they should comply with, and which would have availed nothing as to the gen- eral question if it had been complied with.^ So violent, and I believe I may call it so unconstitu- tional an exertion of the prerogative, to say noth- ing of the weak, injudicious terms in which it was conveyed, gives us as humble an opinion of his Lordship's capacity as it does of his temper and moderation. While we are at peace with other nations, our military force may perhaps be spared to support the Earl of Hillsborough's measures in America. Whenever that force shall be nec- essarily withdrawn or diminished, the dismission of such a minister will neither console us for his imprudence, nor remove the settled resentment of a people, who, complaining of an act of the Legislature, are outraged by an unwarranta- ble stretch of prerogative, and, supporting their claims by argument, are insulted with declama- tion. Drawing lots would be a prudent and reason- able method of appointing the officers of state, compared to a late disposition of the secretary's office. Lord Rochford was acquainted with the affairs and temper of the Southern courts ; Lord Weymouth was equally qualified for either de- ter fertile, as I willingly believe, in every gi-eat and good qualification." Political men have certainly a peculiar faculty of viewing the characters of others under very different lights, as they happen to affect their own interests and feelings. ^ The " arbitrary condition" was that the General Court of Massachusetts should rescind one of their own resolutions and expunge it from their records. The whole of this passage in relation to Hillsborough is as correct in point of fact, as it is well reasoned and finely expressed. partment. By what unaccountable caprice has it happened, that the latter, who pretends to no experience whatsoever, is removed to the most important of the two departments, and the for- mer, by preference, placed in an office where his experience can be of no use to him '?^° Lord Weymouth had distinguished himself in his first employment by a spirited, if not judicious con- duct. He had animated the civil magistrate beyond the tone of civil authority, and had di- rected the operations of the army to more than military execution. Recovered from the errors of his youth, from the distraction of play, and the bewitching smiles of Burgundy, behold him exerting the whole strength of his clear, un- clouded faculties in the service of the Crown. It was not the heat of midnight excesses, nor ignorance of the laws, nor the furious spirit of the house of Bedford ; no, sir; when this respect- able minister interposed his authority between the magistrate and the people, and signed the mandate on which, for aught he knew, the lives of thousands depended, he did it from the deliber- ate motion of his heart, supported by the best of his judgment. "i 1° The changes here censured had taken place about three months before. The office of Foreign Secretary for the Southern Department was made vacant by the resignation of Lord Shelburne, Lord Rochford, who had been minister to France, and thus made " acquainted with the temper of the Southern courts," ought naturally to have been ap- pointed (if at all) to this department. Instead of this, he was made Secretaiy of the Northern De- partment, for which he had been prepared by no pre- vious knowledge ; while Lord Weymouth was tak- en from the Home Department, and placed in the Southern, being "equally qualified" [that is, wholly unqualified by any "experience whatsoever"] for either department in the Foreign ofiice, whether Southern or Northern. 1^ As Secretary of the Home Department, Lord Weymouth had addressed a letterto the magistrates of London, early in 1768, advising them to call in the military, provided certain disturbances in the streets should continue. The idea of setting the soldiery to fire on masses of unarmed men has always been abhorrent to the English nation. It was, therefore, a case admirably suited to the purposes of this Let- ter. In using it to inflame the people against Lord Weymouth, Junius charitably supposes that he was not repeating the eirors of his youth — that he was neither drunk, nor ignorant of what he did, nor im- pelled by "the furious spirit" of one of the proudest families of the realm — all of which Lord Weymouth would certainly say — and therefore (which his Lord- ship must also admit) that he did, from " the delib- erate motion of his heart, supported by the best of his judgment," sign a paper which the great body of the people considered as authorizing proniscuous murder, and which actually resulted in the death of fourteen persons three weeks after. The whole is so wrought up as to create the feeling, that Lord Weymouth was in both of these states of mind — that he acted with deliberation in carrying out the dictates of headlong or dininken passion. All this, of course, is greatly exaggerated. Se- vere measures did seem indispensable to suppress the mobs of that day, and, whoever stood forth to di- rect them, must of necessity incur the popular in- TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADV^EIITISER. 177 10 It has lately been a fashion to pay a compli- ment to the bravery and generosity of the Com- mander-in-chief [the Marquess of Granby] at the expense of his understanding. They who love him least make no question of his courage, while his friends dwell chiefly on the facility of his dis- position. Admitting him to be as brave as a total absence of all feeling and reflection can make him, let us see what sort of merit he de- rives from the remainder of his character. If it be generosity to accumulate in his own person and family a number of lucrative employments ; to provide, at the public expense, for every crea- ture that bears the name of Manners ; and, neg- lecting the merit and services of the rest of the army, to heap promotions upon his favorites and dependents, the present Commander-in-chief is the most generous man alive. Nature has been sparing of her gifts to this noble Lord ; but where birth and fortune ai-e united, we expect the noble pride and independence of a man of spirit, not the servile, humiliating complaisance of a courtier. As to the goodness of his heart, if a proof of it be taken from the facility of never refusing, what conclusion shall we draw^ from the indecency of never performing ? And if the discipline of the army be in any degree preserv- ed, what thanks are due to a man, whose cares, notoriously confined to filling up vacancies, have degraded the ofiice of Commander-in-chief into [that of] a broker of commissions.''' With respect to the navy, I shall only say, that this country is so highly indebted to Sir Ed- ward Hawke. that no expense should be spared to secure him an honorable and affluent retreat. " The pure and impai-tial administration of jus- tice is perhaps the firmest bond to secure a cheer- ful submission of the people, and to engage their affections to government. It is not sufficient that questions of private right or wrong are just- ly decided, nor that judges are superior to the dignation. Still, it was a question among the most candid men, whether milder means might not have been effectual. ^^ The Marquess of Granby, personally considered, was perhaps the most popular member of the cabi- net, with the exception of Sir Edward Hawke. He was a warm-hearted man, of highly social qualities and generous feelings. As it was the object of Ju- nius to break down the ministry, it was peculiarly necessary for him to blast and destroj' his popular- ity. This he attempts to do by discrediting the character of the Marquess, as a man of firmness, strength of mind^nd disinterestedness in mana- ging the concerns of the army. This attack is dis- tinguished for its plausibility and bitterness. It is clear that Junius was in some way connected with the anny or with the War Department, and that in this situation he had not only the means of very ex- act information, but some private grudge against the Commander-in-chief. His charges and insinuations are greatly overstrained ; but it is certain that the army was moldering away at this time in a manner which left the country in a very defenseless condi- tion. Lord Chatham showed this by incontestible evidence, in his speech on the Falkland Islands, delivered about a year after this Letter was writ- ten. M vileness of pecuniary corruption. Jefleries him- self, when the court had no interest, was an up- right judge. A court of justice may be subject to another sort of bias, more important and per- nicious, as it reaches beyond the interest of indi- viduals, and affects the whole community. A judge, under the influence of government, may be honest enough in the decision of private caus- es, yet a traitor to the public. When a victim is marked out by the ministr}-, this judge will offer himself to perform the sacrifice. He will not scruple to prostitute his dignity, and betray the sanctity of his office, whenever an arbitrary point is to be carried for government, or the re- sentment of a Court to be gratified. ^ These principles and proceedings, odious and contemptible as they are, in effect are no less in- judicious. A wise and generous people are roused by every appearance of oppressive, uncon- stitutional measures, whether those measures are supported openly by the power of government, or masked under the forms of a court of justice. Prudence and self-preservation will oblige the most moderate dispositions to make common cause, even with a man whose conduct they censure, if they see him persecuted in a way which the real spirit of the laws will not justify. The facts on which these remarks are founded, are too notorious to require an application.'^ - This, sir. is the detail. In one view, behold a nation overwhelmed with debt ; her revenues wasted ; her trade declining ; the affections of her colonies alienated ; the duty of the magis- trate transferred to the soldiery ; a gallant army, which never fought unwillingly but against their fellow-subjects, moldering away for want of the direction of a man of common abilities and spirit: and, in the last instance, the administration of justice become odious and su.spected to the whole body of the people. This deplorable scene ad- mits but of one addition — that we are governed by councils, from which a reasonable man can expect no i-emedy but poison, no relief but death. If, by the immediate interposition of Provi- dence, it were [be] possible for us to escape a ^^ It is unnecessary to say that Lord Mansfield is here pointed at. No one now believes that this great jurist ever did the things here ascribed to him by Junius. All that is true is, that he was a very high Tory, and was, therefore, naturally led to exalt the prerogatives of the Crown ; and that ho was a very politic man (and this was the great failing in his character), and therefore unwilling to oppose the King or his ministers, when he knew in heart they were wrong. This was undoubtedly the case in re spect to the issuing of a general warrant for ap prehending Wilkes, which he ought publicly to have condemned ; but, as he remained silent, men natu rally considered him, in his character of Chief Jus tice, as having approved of the course directed by the King. Hence Mansfield was held responsible for the treatment of Wilkes, of whom Junius here speaks in very nearly the terms used by Lord Chat- ham, as a man whose "conduct" he censured, but with whom every moderate man must " make com- mon cause," when he was " persecuted in a way which the real spirit of the laws will not justify." 178 JUNIUS crisis so full of terror and despair, posterity will 1 or recovered from so desperate a condition, while not believe the history of the present times. | a Duke of Grafton was Prime Minister, a Lord They will either conclude that our distresses North Chancellor of the Exchequer, a Wey- were imaginary, or that we had the good for- | mouth and a Hillsborough Secretaries of State, tune to be governed by men of acknowledged in- a Granby Commander-in-chief, and a Mansfield tegrity and wisdom. They will not believe it \ chief criminal judge of the kingdom, possible that their ancestors could have survived, j Junius. LETTER TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE BATH.i Sir, — The defense of Lord Granby does honor to the goodness of your heart. You feel, as you ought to do, for the reputation of your friend, and you express yourself in the warmest lan- guage of the passions. In any other cause, I doubt not, you would have cautiously weighed the consequences of committing your name to the licentious discourses and malignant opinions of the world. But here, I presume, you thought it would be a breach of friendship to lose one moment in consulting your understanding ; as if an appeal to the public were no more than a mil- itary coup de main^ where a brave man has no rules to follow but the dictates of his courage. Touched with your generosity, I freely forgive the excesses into which it has led you ; and, far from resenting those terms of reproach, which, considering that you are an advocate for deco- i-um, you have heaped upon me rather too liber- all}^, I place them to the account of an honest, unreflecting indignation, in which your cooler judgment and natural politeness had no concern. I approve of the spirit with which you have given your name to the public, and, if it were a proof of any thing but spirit, I should have thought my- self bound to follow your example. I should have hoped that even my name might carry some au- thority with it, if I had not seen how very little weight or consideration a printed paper receives even from the respectable signature of Sir Will- iam Draper.^ 1 Dated February 7, 1769. It is unnecessary to give the letters of Sir William Draper, since their contents will be sufficiently understood from the re- plies, and our present concern is not with the merits of the controversy, but the peculiarities of Junius as a writer. 2 The reader will be interested in the following brief sketch of Sir William Draper's life by a con- temporary : " Su' William, as a scholar, had been bred at Eton and King's College, Cambridge, but he chose the sword for his profession. In India he ranked with those famous warriors, Clive and Lawrence. In 1761 be acted at Belleisle as a brigadier. In 1762 he commanded the troops who conquered Manilla, which place was saved from plunder by the prom- ise of a ransom of £1,000,000, that was never paid. His first appearance as an able writer was in his clear refutation of the objections of the Spanish court to the payment of that ransom. His services were rewarded with the command of the sixteenth regi- ment of foot, which he resigned to Colonel Gisborne for his half-pay of X200 Irish. This common trans- You begin with a general assertion, that writ- ers, such as I am, are the real cause of all the public evils we complain of. And do you really think. Sir William, that the licentious pen of a political writer is able to produce such import- ant effects ? A little calm reflection might have shown you that national calamities do not arise from the description, but from the real character and conduct of ministers. To have supported your assertion, you should have proved that the present ministry are unquestionably the best and ir/g^/ifesf characters of the kingdom; and that, if the aflfections of the colonies have been alienated, if Corsica has been shamefully abandoned, if commerce languishes, if public credit is threat- ened with a new debt, and your own Manilla ransom most dishonorably given up, it has all been owing to the malice of political wi-iters, who will not suffer the best and brightest of characters (meaning still the present ministry) to take a single right step for the honor or in- terest of the nation.^ But it seems you were a action furnished Junius with many a sarcasm. Sir William had scarcely closed his contest with that formidable opponent, when he had the misfortune to lose his wife, who died on the 1st of September, 1769. As he was foiled, he was no doubt mortified ; and he set out, in October of that year, to make the tour of the American colonies, which had now be- come objects of notice and scenes of travel. He ar- rived at Charleston, South Carolina, in January, 1770 ; and, traveling northward, he arrived, during the sum- mer of that year, in Maryland, where he was received with that hospitality which she always paid to stran- gers, and with the attentions that were due to the merit of such a visitor. From Maryland Sir Will- iam passed on to New York, where he married Miss De Lancey, a lady of great connections there, and agreeable endowments, who died in 1778, leaving him a daughter. In 1779 he was appointed Lieu- tenant Governor of Minorca — a trust which, however discharged, ended unhappily. He died at Bath, on the 8th of January, 1787." 3 A few words of explanation may be necessary on two of the points here mentioned. The Corsicans had risen against their former mas- ters and oppressors, the Genoese, and, through the braveiy and conduct of their leader. General Paoli, had nearly recovered their liberties. Genoa now called in the aid of France, and finally sold her the island. Public sentiment in England was strongly in favor of the Corsicans ; and the general feeling was that of Lord Chatliam, that England ought to interfere, and prevent France from being aggrand- ized at the expense of the Corsicans. Instead of TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER. 179 little tender of coming to particulars. Your con- science insinuated to you that it would be pru- dent to leave the characters of Gi-afton, Noi'th, Hillsborough, Weymouth, and Mansfield to shift for themselves; and truly, Sir William, the part you have undertaken is at least as much as you are equal to. Without disputing Lord Granby's courage, we are yet to learn in what articles of military knowledge Nature has been so very liberal to his mind. If you have served with him, you ought to have pointed out some instances of able dis- position and well-concerted enterprise, which might fairly be attributed to his capacity as a general. It is you, Sir William, who make your friend appear awkward and ridiculous, by giving him a laced suit of tawdry qualifications which Nature never intended him to wear. You say, he has acquired nothing but honor in the field. Is the ordnance nothi Ai-e the Blues nothing ? Is the command of the army, with all the patronage annexed to it, noth- ing ? Where he got these nothings I know not ; but you, at least, ought to have told us where he deserved them. As to his bounty, compassion, &c., it would have been but little to the purpose, though you had proved all that you have a/gserted. I meddle with nothing but his character as Commander- in-chief; and though I acquit him of the base- ness of selling commissions, I still assert that his military cares have never extended beyond the disposal of vacancies ; and I am justified by the complaints of the whole army, when I say that, in this distribution, he consults nothing but par- liamentary interests, or the gratification of his immediate dependents. As to his servile sub- mission to the reigning ministry, let me ask, whether he did not desert the cause of the whole ai'my when he suflTered Sir JefTery Amherst to be sacrificed ? and what share he had in recall- inof that oflacer to the service ?^ Did he not be- this, the Grafton ministry had decided three months before to give her up, and the great body of the na- tion were indignant at this decision. lu respect to the Manilla ransom, it has already been stated, that the Spanish court, in their usual spirit, had endeavored to evade the debt. Year af- ter year had been spent in finiitless negotiations, when the decided tone recommended by Lord Chat- ham would have at once secured paj-ment. The na- tion felt disgraced by this tame endurance. Sir Will- iam Draper was indeed rewarded with the order of the Bath, whose " blushing ribbon" is so stingingly alluded to at the close of this letter. He also re- ceived the pecuniary emoluments here mentioned. But all this was considered by many as mere favor- itism, and the reward of his silence ; for Admiral Cornish, who commanded the fleet in that expedi- tion, together with the inferior officers and troops, was left to languish and die without redress. * Sir JefFery Amherst was a favoiite general of Lord Chatham, and conducted most of his great en- terprises in America. He was rewarded with the Bffice of Governor of Virginia, but was abruptly dis- placed in 1768, through the interposition of Hillsbor- Oagh, chiefly on account of his friendship for Chat- lam. He was, however, speedily raised to a high- tray the just interest of the army in permitting Lord Percy to have a regiment ? and does he not at this moment give up all character and dignity as a gentleman, in receding from his own repeated declarations in favor of Mr. Wilkes ? In the two next articles I think we are agreed. You candidly admit that he often makes such promises as it is a virtue in him to violate, and that no man is more assiduous to provide for his relations at the public expense. I did not urge the last as an absolute vice in his disposition, but to prove that a careless, disinterested spirit is no part of his character ; and as to the other, I de- sire it may be remembered that I never descend- ed to the indecency of inquiring into his convivial hows. It is you, Sir William Draper, who have taken pains to represent 3'our friend in the charac- ter of a drunken landlord, who deals out his prom- ises, as liberally as his liquor, and will suffer no man to leave his table either sorrowful or sober. None but an intimate friend, who must frequent- ly have seen him in these unhappy, disgraceful moments, could have described him so well. The last charge, of the neglect of the army, is indeed the most material of all. I am sorrv to tell you. Sir William, that in this article your first fact is false f and as there is nothing more painful to me than to give a direct contradiction to a gentleman of your appearance, I could wi.sh that, in your future publications, you would pa\' a greater attention to the truth of your premises, before you suffer your genius to hurry you to a conclusion. Lord Ligonier did not deliver the army (which you, in classical language, are pleased to call a Palladium) into Lord Granby's hands. It was taken from him, much against his inclination, some two or three years before Lord Granby was Commander-in-chief. As to the state of the army, I should be glad to know where you have received your intelligence. Was it in the rooms at Bath, or at your retreat at Clifton ? The reports of reviewing generals comprehend only a few regiments in England, which, as they are immediately under the royal inspection, are perhaps in some tolerable order. But do you know any thing of the troops in the West Indies, the Mediterranean, and North Amer- ica, to say nothing of a whole army absolutely ruined in Ireland ? Inquire a little into facts, Sir William, before you publish your next pane- gyric upon Lord Granby, and believe me you will find there is a fault at head-quarters, which even the acknowledged care and abilities of the Adju- tant General [General HarveyJ can not correct. er station in the army, through the determined in- terposition of his friends, but not (as Junius inti- mates) through that of Lord Granby. In respect to Lord Percy, it was bitterly com- plained of in the array that he should receive a regi- ment "plainly by way of pension to the noble, dis- interested house of Percy," for their support of the ministry, while the most meritorious officers were passed over in neglect, and suff"ered, after years of arduous service, to languish in want. * It is hardly correct to say that a fact is false, but rather the statement which affirms it. 180 JUNIUS Permit me now, Sir William, to address my- self personally to you, by way of thanks for the honor of your correspondence. You are by no means mideserving of notice ; and it may be of consequence even to Lord Granby to have it de- termined, whether or no the man, who has praised him so lavishly, be himself deserving of praise. When you returned to Europe, you zealously undertook the cause of that gallant army, by whose bravery at Manilla your own fortune had been established. You complained, you threat- ened, you even appealed to the public in print. By what accident did it happen that, in the midst of all this bustle, and all these clamors for justice to your injured troops, the name of the Manilla ransom was suddenly buried in a pro- found, and, since that time, an uninterrupted si- lence ? Did the ministry suggest any motives to you strong enough to tempt a man of honor to desert and betray the cause of his fellow-sol- diers ? Was it that blushing ribbon, which is now the perpetual ornament of your person ? Or was it that regiment, which you afterward (a thing unprecedented among soldiers) sold to Colonel Gisborne ? Or was it that government [of Yarmouth], the full pay of which you are contented to hold, with the half-pay of an Irish colonel ? And do you now, after a retreat not very like that of Scipio, presume to intrude your- self, imthought of, uncalled for, upon the pa- tience of the public ? Are your flatteries of the Commander-in-chief directed to another regi- ment, -which you may again dispose of on the same honorable terms? We know your pru- dence, Sir William, and I should be sorry to stop your preferment. Junius. Sir William Draper, in reply to this Letter, said, concerning Loi-d Granby, " My friend's po- litical engagements I know not, so can not pre- tend to explain them, or assert their consist- ency." He does, however, reassert "his mili- tary skill and capacity." As to the Manilla ransom, he says that he had complained, and even appealed to the public, but his efforts with the ministry were in vain. " Some were ingen- uous enough to own that they could not think of involving this distressed nation into another war for our private concerns. In short, our rights, for the present, are sacrificed to national convenience ; and I must confess that, although I may lose five-and-twenty thousand pounds by their acquiescence to this breach of faith in the Spaniards, I think they are in the right to tem- porize, considering the critical situation of this country, convulsed in every part by poison in- fused by anonymous, wicked, and incendiary writ- ers." His pecuniary transactions he explained in a manner which ought to have satisfied any can- did mind, that there was nothing in them either dishonest or dishonorable. As to his being re- warded with office and preferment, while his companions in arms were neglected, this was certainly not to be imputed to him as a crime, since his services merited all he received. Still, he may, on this account, have been more will- ing (as Junius insinuated) to remain quiet. He closed his second letter thus: "Junius makes much and frequent use of interrogations : they are arms that may be easily turned against him- self. I could, by malicious interrogation, disturb the peace of the most virtuous man in the king- dom. I could take the Decalogue, and say to one man, ' Did you never steal ?' to the next, ' Did you never commit murder ?' and to Junius himself, who is putting my life and conduct to the rack, ' Did you never bear false witness against thy neighbor ?' Junius must easily see, that unless he affirms to the contrary in his real name, some people, who may be as ignorant of him as I am, will be apt to suspect him of hav- ing deviated a little from the truth ; therefore let Junius ask no more questions. You bite against a file ; cease, viper !" LETTER TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE BATH.i Sir, — An academical education has given you an unlimited command over the most beautiful figures of speech. Masks, hatchets, racks, and vipers dance through your letters in all the mazes of metaphorical confusion. These are the gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination — the mel- ancholy madness of poetry without the inspira- tion. I will not contend with you in point of composition. You are a scholar, Sir William, and, if I am truly informed, you write Latin with almost as much purity as English. Suffer me, then, for I am a plain unlettered man, to continue that style of interrogation which suits my capac- ity, and to which, considering the readiness of 1 Dated March 3, 1769. This was the lo Trium- phc of .Timi'is in closing the correspondence. your answers, you ought to have no objection. Even Mr. Bingley promises to answer, if put to the torture.^ Do you then really think that, if I were to ask a most virtuous man whether he ever committed theft, or murder, it would disturb his peace of mind ? Such a question might perhaps discom- pose the gravity of his muscles, but I believe it 2 This man was a bookseller, who had been subpoe- naed by the government in the case of Wilkes. For some reason, he refused to answer the questions put by either party, and made himself the laughing-stock of both, by declaring under oath that he would never answer untWput to the torture. He was imprisoned a number of months for contempt of court, and at last released. TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER. 181 would little affect the tranquillity of his con- science. Examine your own breast, Sir Will- iam, and you will discover that reproaches and inquiries have no power to afflict either the man of unblemished integrity, or the abandoned prof- ligate. It is the middle, compound character which alone is vulnerable : the man who, with- out firmness enough to avoid a dishonorable ac- tion, has feeling enough to be ashamed of it. I thank you for the hint of the Decalogue, and shall take an opportunit}'^ of applying it to some of your most virtuous friends in both houses of Parliament. You seem to have dropped the affair of your regiment ; so let it rest. When you are appoint- ed to another, I dare say you will not sell it, either for a gross sum, or for any annuity upon lives. I am truly glad (for really, Sir William, I am not your enemy, nor did I begin this contest with you) that you have been able to clear yourself of a crime, though at the expense of the highest indisci-etion. You say that your half pay was given you by way of pension. I will not dwell upon the singularity of uniting in your own per- son two sorts of provision, which, in their own nature, and in all military and parliamentary views, are incompatible ; but I call upon you to justify that declaration, wherein you charge your prince with having done an act in your favor no- toriously against law. The half pay, both in Ireland and in England, is appropriated by Par- liament ; and if it be given to persons who, like you, are legally incapable of holding it, it is a , broach of law. It would have been more decent i:i you to have called this dishonorable ti-ansac- tion by its true name ; a job to accommodate two persons, by particular interest and management at the Castle. What sense must government have had of your services, when the rewards they have given you are only a disgrace to you ! And now. Sir William, I shall take my leave of you forever. Motives, very different from any apprehension of your resentment, make it im- possible you should ever know me. In truth, you have some reason to hold yourself indebted to me. From the lessons I have given, you may collect a profitable instruction for your future life. They will either teach you so to regulate your conduct as to be able to set the most ma- licious inquiries at defiance, or, if that be a lost hope, they will teach you prudence enough not to attract the public attention to a character which will only pass without censure when it passes without observation. Junius. Junius added the following note when the let- ters wei-e collected into a volume, after the death of the Marquess of Granby : " It has been said, and I believe truly, that it was signified to Sir William Draper, at the re- quest of Lord Granby, that he should desist fronl writing in his Lordship's defense. Sir William Draper certainly drew Junius forward to say more of Lord Granby's character than he orig- inally intended. He was reduced to the dilem- ma of either being totally silenced, or of sup- porting his first letter. Whether Sir William had a right to reduce him to this dilemma, or to call upon him for his name, after a voluntary at- tack on his side, are questions submitted to the candor of the public. The death of Lord Gran- by was lamented by Junius. He undoubtedly owed some compensations to the public, and seemed determined to acquit himself of them. In private life, he was unquestionably that good man, who, for the interest of his country, ought to have been a great one. ' Bonum virum fa- cile dixeris ; magnum libenter.'-' I never spoke of him with resentment. His mistakes in public conduct did not arise either from want of senti- ment or want of judgment, but in genex'al from the difficulty of saying No ! to the bad people who surrounded him. As for the rest, the friends of Lord Granby should remember, that he himself thought proper to condemn, retract, and disavow, by a most solemn declaration in the House of Commons, that very system of political conduct which Junius had held forth to the disapproba- tion of the public."* LETTER TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.i My Lorb, — If the measures in which you have been most successful had been supported ^ " You would readily call him a good man, and be glad to call him a great one." * This refers to the change of Lord Granby's views and feelings after Lord Chatham's speech of January 9Lh, 1770: see page 114. As already stated, page 114, he withdrew from the Duke of Grafton's administration, apologizing for the vote he had given for seating Colonel Luttrell in the House, deploring it as the greatest misfortune of his life. 1 Dated May 30th, 1769. This, like the first letter, has great regularity of structure. It begins with an artful apology for its bitterness, representing the Duke as utterly incorrigible; as having such a reli- ance on his purchased majority in Parliament, and such audacity in vice, as made him treat with con- tempt all endeavors for his good, and left room only for the writer " to consider his character and con- duct as a subject of curious speculation." Junius then goes on to speak of, (1.) The stain which rested on the Duke's descent, and his resemblance to his re- puted ancestors. (2.) His education under Lord Chat- ham, and his early desertion of his patron and of all others who had ever confided in him. (3.) His man- agement under the third ministiy of Chatham, to en- gross power and influence by a union with the Duke of Bedford and a marriage into his family. (4.) His supposed design, by this union, to obtain the mastery of the closet, and take the place of the Favorite. (5.) 182 JUNIUS by any tolerable appearance of argument, I should have thought my time not ill employed in continuing to examine your conduct as a min- ister, and stating it fairly to the public. But when I see questions of the first national im- portance carried as they have been, and the first principles of the Constitution openly violated without argument or decency, I confess I give up the cause in despair. The meanest of your pred- ecessors had abilities sufficient to give a color to their measures. If they invaded the rights of the people, they did not dare to offer a direct in- sult to their understanding ; and, in former times, the most venal Parliaments made it a condition, in their bargain with the minister, that he should furnish them with some plausible pretenses for selling their country and themselves. You have had the merit of introducing a more compendious system of government and logic. You neither address youi-self to the passions nor to the un- derstanding, but simply to the touch. You ap- ply yourself immediately to the feelings of your friends, who, contrary to the forms of Parliament, never enter heartily into a debate until they have divided.* Relinquishing, therefore, all idle views of amendment to your Grace, or of benefit to the public, let me be permitted to consider your character and conduct merely as a subject of curious speculation. There is something in both which distinguishes you not only from all other ministers, but all other men. It is not that you do wrong by design, but that you should never do right by mistake. It is not that your indo- lence and your activity have been equally mis- applied, but that the first uniform principle, or, if I may so call it, the genius of your life, should have carried you through every possible change and contradiction of conduct, without the mo- mentary imputation or color of a virtue ; and that the wildest spirit of inconsistency should never once have betrayed you into a wise or honorable action. This, I own, gives an air of singularity to your fortune, as well as to your disposition. Let us look back together to a scene, in which a mind like yours will find noth- ing to repent of. Let us try, my Lord, how well you have supported the various relations in which you stood, to youi sovereign, your country, your friends, and yourself. Give us, if it be possible, His fluctuating policy in respect to America. (6.) His betrayal of the Corsicans into the hands of France, and his permitting the French to gain the ascend- ency in the Turkish Divan. (7.) His alienating tlie affections of the people from the King by his home administration, " sometimes allowing the laws to be scandalously relaxed, and sometimes violently stretched beyond their tone." He concludes by telling the Duke, as the only hope of his being ren- dered useful to mankind, " I mean to make you a negative instructor to your successors forever." 2 About this time, as appears from the Court Cal- endar, one hundred and ninety-troo members of the House of Commons had places mider government, and were thus held in absolute subserviency to the minister; to say nothing of the more direct use of money alluded to above. some excuse to posterity, and to ourselves, for submitting to your administration. If not the abilities of a great minister, if not the integrity of a patriot, or the fidelity of a friend, show us, at least, the firmness of a man. For the sake of your mistress, the lover shall be spared. I will not lead her into public, as you have done, nor will I insult the memory of departed beauty. Her sex, which alone made her amiable in your eyes, makes her respectable in mine.^ The character of the reputed ancestors of some men has made it possible for their de- scendants to be vicious in the extreme, without being degenerate. Those of your Grace, for instance, left no distressing examples of virtue, even to their legitimate posterity ; and you may look back with pleasure to an illustrious pedi- gree, in which heraldry has not left a single good quality upon record to insult or upbraid you. You have better proofs of your descent, my Lord, than the register of a marriage, or any trouble- some inheritance of reputation. There are some hereditary strokes of character, by which a fam- ily may be as clearly distinguished as by the blackest features in the human face. Charles the First lived and died a hypocrite. Charles the Second w^as a hypocrite of another sort, and should have died upon the same scaffold. At the distance of a century, we see their different characters happily revived and blended in your Grace. Sullen and severe without religion, prof- ligate without gayety, you live like Charles the Second, without being an amiable companion, and, for aught I know, may die as his father did, without the reputation of a martyr.'' You had already taken your degrees with credit in those schools in which the English no- bility are formed to virtue, when you were in- troduced to Lord Chatham's protection. From Newmarket, White's, and the Opposition, he gave you to the world with an air of popularity, 3 The Duke of Grafton had outraged public decen- cy a few months before, by appearing openly with his mistress, Miss Parsons, in places of general re- sort and amusement. Junius attacked him on the subject at that time (though not under his present signature), remarking ironically, " You have exceed- ed my warmest expectations. I did not think you capable of exhibiting the 'lovely Thais' at the Opera House, of sitting a whole night by her side, of call- ing for her carriage yourself, and of leading her to it through a crowd of the first men and women in this kingdom. To a mind like yours, such an outrage to your wife, such a triumph over decency, such an in- sult to the company, must have afforded the highest gratification. It was, I presume, your novissima vo- luptas." Junius very dexterously throws in this mention of the Duke of Grafton's dissolute habits to introduce the next paragraph, which traces his ori- gin from the most debauched of English monarchs. * The first Duke of Grafton was a natural son of Charles II., and the present Duke a great-grandchild of that debauched monarch. This reference to the fact was of itself sufficiently mortifying ; but it de- rives double severity from the ingenious turn by which the discordant qualities of his two royal an- cestors are made to meet and mingle in the person of his Grace. TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 183 which young men usually set out with, and- sel- dom preserve ; grave and plausible enough to be thought" fit for business ; too young for treach- ery ; and, in short, a patriot -of no unpromising expectations. Lord Chatham was the earliest object of your political wonder and attachme'nt ; yet you deserted him, upon the first hopes that offered of an equal share of power with Lord Rockingham. *When the Duke of Cumberland's first negotiation failed, and when the Favorite was pushed to the last extremity, you saved him, by joining with an administration in which Lord Chatham had refused to engage.'^ Still, how- ever, he was \'our friend, and you are yet to ex- plain to the world why )'ou consented to act without him, or why, after uniting with Lord Rockingham, you deserted and betrayed him. You complained that no measures were taken to satisfy your patron, and that your friend, Mr. Wilkes, who had suflfered so much for the party, had been abandoned to his fate. They have since contributed, not a little, to your present plenitude of power ; yet, I think. Lord Chatham has less reason than ever to be satisfied ; and as for Mr. Wilkes, it is, perhaps, the greatest mis- fortune of his life that you should have so many compensations to make in the closet for your former friendship with him. Your gracious mas- ter understands your character, and makes you a persecutor, because you have been a fi'lend.*^ Lord Chatham formed his last administration upon principles which you certainly concurred in, or you could never have been placed at the head of the treasury. By deserting those prin- ciples, and by acting in direct contradiction to them, in which he found you were secretly sup- ported in the closet, you soon forced him to leave s See on this subject the sketch of Lord Chatham's life, p. 66. The Duke of Grafton had been the pro- tege ai]d adherent of his Lordship ; but he joined the administration of Lord Rockingham in 1765, as Secretary of State, while Chatham declared to the House that he could not give his confidence or sup- port to the new ministers. Still, he stated in the same speech that " some of them asked his opinion before they accepted, and that he advised them to do it." The Duke of Grafton may have been one of the number, and in that case, the present is one of the many instances ill which Junius perverts facts for the sake of wounding an adversary. ® Cooke, speaking of this period in his History of Party, vol. iii., 105, says, " The Duke of Grafton, the present premier, although still a young man, had passed through several shades of politics. During the struggle upon the subject of general warrants, he had strenuously supported Wilkes ; and he had, since that time, repeated his assurances of protec- tion and friendship. When placed by Lord Chat- ham at the head of the treasury, he had, through his own brother, conveyed a similar message to the im- patient democrat, who, inflated with hope, returned to England to receive his pardon. He found, how- ever, upon his arrival, that nothing was intended in his favor. He revenged himself by writing and pub- lishing a severe letter to the Duke of Grafton, tax- ing him with faithlessness and prevarication ; and he returned in bitter disappointment to his exile and his poverty." you to yourself, and to withdraw his name from an administration which had been formed on the credit of it.'^ You had then a prospect of friend- ships better suited to your genius, and more likely to fix your disposition. Marriage is the point on which every rake is stationary at last ; and truly, my Lord, you may well be weary of the circuit you have taken, for you have now fairly traveled through every sign in the political zodiac, from the Scorpion in which you stung Lord Chatham, to the hopes of a Virgin in the house of Bloomsbury. One would think that you had had sufficient experience of the frailty of nuptial engagements, or, at least, that such a friendship as the Duke of Bedford's might have been secured to you by the auspicious marriage of your late Duchess with his nephew. But ties of this tender nature can not be drawn too close ; and it may possibly be a part of the Duke of Bedford's ambition, after making her an honest woman, to work a miracle of the same sort upon your Grace. This worthy nobleman has long dealt in virtue. There has been a large con- sumption of it in his own family ; and in the way of traffic, I dare say, he has bought and sold more than half the representative integrity of the nation.^ In a political view this union is not imprudent. The favor of princes is a perishable commodity. You have now a strength sufficient to command the closet ; and if it be necessary to betray one friendship more, you may set even Lord Bute at defiance. Mr. Stuart Mackenzie may possibly remember what use the Duke of Bedford usually makes of his power f and our gracious sover- 7 Lord Chatham did ultimately withdraw his name for this reason, October, 1768 ; though his previous illness had prevented him from taking the lead of the government, and had thus given the Duke of Grafton an opportunity to gain the King's favor, which could be permanently secured only by aban- doning the principles and friendship of Lord Chat- ham. ^ The facts here referred to betray a shameless profligacy in all the parties concerned. While the Duke of Grafton was parading his mistress before the public at the Opera House, his wife had an adul- terou.s connection with Lord Upper Ossory, nephew of the Duke of Bedford. Fortius she was divorced, and was soon after mamed by her paramour, who thus brought her into the Bedford circle. Incredible as it may seem, the Duke of Grafton became in a short time affianced to a member of the same circle, Miss Wrottesley, a niece of the Duchess of Bedford ("a virgin of the house of Bloomsbury") ; so that Ju- nius represents it as the ambition of the Duke of Bed- ford, after making the adultress " an honest woman, to work a miracle of the same sort" on her former husband, the Duke of Grafton ! This exposure oif their shame would have satisfied most persons ; but Junius, in the next paragraph, dexterously turns the whole to a new purpose, viz., that of inflaming the public mind against the minister, as designing, by this connection, to " gain strength sufficient to com- mand the closet ;" imputing to him the unpopular friendship of Lord Bute, and a design to betray it! ^ When the Duke of Bedford became minister in 1763, he forced the King, against his wishes (as it 184 JUNIUS eign, I doubt not, rejoices at this first appear- ance of union among his servants. His late Majesty, under the happy influence of a family connection between his ministers, was relieved from the cares of government. A more active prince may, perhaps, observe with suspicion, by what degrees an artful servant grows upon his master, from the first unlimited professions of duty and attachment to the painful representa- tion of the necessity of the royal service, and soon, in regular progression, to the humble inso- lence of dictating in all the obsequious forms of peremptory submission. The interval is care- fully employed in forming connections, creating interests, collecting a party, and laying the foun- dation of double marriages, until the deluded prince, who thought he had found a creature pros- tituted to his service, and insignificant enough to be always dependent upon his pleasure, finds him at last too strong to be commanded, and too formidable to be removed. Your Grace's public conduct, as a minister, is but the counterpart of your private history — the same inconsistency, the same contradictions. In America we trace you, from the first opposi- tion to the Stamp Act, on principles of conven- ience, to Mr. Pitt's surrender of the right ; then forward to Lord Rockingham's surrender of the fact ; then back again to Lord Rockingham's declaration of the right ; then forward to taxa- tion with Mr. Townsend ; and, in the last in- stance, from the gentle Conway's undetermined discretion, to blood and compulsion with the Duke of Bedford. '° Yet, if we may believe the simplicity of Lord North's eloquence, at the open- ing of next sessions you are once moi'e to be pa- tron of America. Is this the wisdom of a great minister, or is it the vibration of a pendulum ? Had you no opinion of your own, my Lord ? Or -was it the gratification of beti-aying ever}'- party with which you had been united, and of deserting every political principle in which you had concurred ? Your enemies may turn their eyes without re- gret from this admirable system of provincial gov- ernment : they will find gratification enough in the survey of your domestic and foreign policy. If, instead of disowning Lord Shelbui'ne, the British court had interposed with dignity and firmness, you know, my Lord, that Corsica would never have been invaded. ^^ The French was understood), to dismiss Mi-. Stuart Mackenzie, brother of Lord Bute. Mr. Mackenzie was restored as soon as the Duke retired ; and Junius here de- scribes, in the most graphic manner, the way in which the same man and his associates might be ex- pected to go on again, till he reached " the humble insolence of dictating in all the obsequious forms of peremptory submission," as was done to George II. 1" This is substantially true. " The Duke of Graf- ton," says a well-informed writer, " occasionally fa- vored Mr. Pitt's opinion, occasionally the Marquess of Rockingbam's, and at last sided with Charles Townsend in a determined resolution to carry the system of taxation into effect at all hazards." " Loi'd Shelburne, then Secretary of Foreign Af- fairs, had instructed the English embassador at the saw the weakness of a distracted ministry, and were justified in treating you with contempt. They would probably have yielded in the first instance rather than hazard a rupture with this country ; but, being once engaged, they can not retreat without dishonor. Common sense fore- sees consequences which have escaped your Grace's penetration. Either we sulTer the French to make an acquisition, the importance of which you have probably no conception of, or we op- pose them by an underhand managemeij^which only disgraces us in the answering any purpose From secret, indiscreet to some more open, decisive measures bec'omes unavoidable, till at last we find ourselves'princi- pals in the war, and are obliged to hazard every thing for an object which might have originally been obtained without expense or danger. I am not versed in the politics of the North ; but this I believe is certain, that half the money you have distributed to carry the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, or even your secretary's share in the last subscription, would have kept the Turks at your devotion. ^^ Was it economy, my Lord? or did the coy resistance you have constantly met with in the British Senate make you despair of cor- rupting the Divan ? Your friends, indeed, have the first claim upon your bounty ; but if five hund- red pounds a year can be spared in pension to Sir John Moore, it would not have disgraced you to have allowed something to the secret service of the public. ^^ You will say. perhaps, that the situation of af- fairs at home demanded and engrossed the whole of your attention. Here, I confess you have been active. An amiable, accomplished prince ascends the throne under the happiest of all auspices, the acclamations and united affections of his sub- jects. The first measures of his reign, and even the odium of a Favorite, were not able to shake their attachments. Your services, my Lord, have been more successful. Since you M-ere permit- ted to take the lead, we have seen the natural efTects of a system of govei-nment at once both odious and contemptible. We have seen the laws sometimes scandalously relaxed, sometimes violently stretched beyond their tone. We have court of France to remonstrate in spirited terms against the occupation of Corsica by the French. But Grafton and the rest of the ministry disavowed the instructions of their own secretary, and Lord Shelburne resigned on the 2]st of October, 1768, un- der a sense of injury. 12 It was the policy of Great Britain, touching " the politics of the North," to prevent Russia from being weakened by Turkey in the war then exist- ing between them. French officers were aiding the Turks and disciplining their troops. Junius in- timates that a small sum comparatively might have prevented this, and served not only to curtail the growing power of the French in the Divan, but to have transferred the ascendency to the English. 1^ Sir John Moore was an old Newmarket ac- quaintance of the Duke, who had squandered his private fortune, and had recently obtained from his Grace a pension of £500 a year. TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 185 seen the sacred person of the sovereign insulted ; and, in profound peace, and with an undisputed title, the fidelity of his subjects brought by his own servants into public question. ^^ Without abilities, resolution, or interest, you have done more than Lord Bute could accomplish with all Scotland at his heels. Your Grace, little anxious, perhaps, either for present or future reputation, will not desire to be handed down in these colors to posterity. You have reason to flatter yourself that the memory of your administration will survive even the forms of a constitution which our ancestors vainly hoped would be immortal ; and as for your personal char- acter, I will not, for the honor of human nature, suppose that you can wish to have it remem- bered. The condition of the present times is despei-ate indeed ; but there is a debt due to those who come after us, and it is the historian's oflice to punish, though he can not correct. I do not give you to posterity as a pattern to im- itate, but as an example to deter ; and as your conduct comprehends every thing that a wise or honest minister should avoid, I mean to make you a negative instruction to your successors forever. Junius. LETTER TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.i My Lord, — If nature had given you an un- derstanding qualified to keep pace with the wish- es and principles of your heart, she would have made you, perhaps, the most formidable minister that ever was employed, under a limited mon- arch, to accomplish the ruin of a free people. When neither the feelings of shame, the re- proaches of conscience, nor the dread of punish- ment, form any bar to the designs of a minister, the people would have too much reason to la- ment their condition, if they did not find some resource in the weakness of his understanding. We owe it to the bounty of Providence, that the completest depravity t)f the heart is sometimes strangely united with a confusion of the mind, which counteracts the most favorite principles, and makes the same man treacherous without art, and a hypocrite without deceiving. The measux-es, for instance, in which your Grace's activity has been chiefly exerted, as they were adopted without skill, should have been conduct- ed with more than common dexterity. But truly, my Lord, the execution has been as gross as the design. By one decisive step you have defeated all the arts of writing. You have fair- ly confounded the intrigues of Opposition, and si- lenced the clamors of faction. A dark, ambig- uous system might require and furnish the ma- terials of ingenious illustration, and, in doubtful ** As the King became unpopular through his per- secution of Wilkes and for other causes, the Duke of Grafton had made exertions to procure addresses from various parts of the kingdom, expressive of the people's attachment to the Crown. In this he sig- nally failed, except in Scotland, and thus brought the fidelity of his Majesty's subjects into "public ques- tion." I Dated July 8th, 1769. This Letter is directed chiefly to one point— the daring step just taken by the ministry, of seating Mr. Luttrell in the House of Commons to the exclusion of Mr. Wilkes, when the former had received only 296 votes, and the latter 1143 votes, and had been returned by the sheriff of Middlesex as the elected member. Junius does not enter into the argument, for the case was too clear to admit of extended reasoning. His object was to convince the King and the ministry, that the people would not endure so flagrant an act of violence. measures, the virulent exaggeration of party must be employed to rouse and engage the passions of the people. You have now brought the mer- its of your administration to an issue, on which every Englishman, of the narrowest capacity, may determine for himself. It is not an alarm to the passions, but a calm appeal to the judg- ment of the people upon their own most essential interests. A more experienced minister would not have hazarded a direct invasion of the first principles of the Constitution, before he had made some progress in subduing the spirit of the peo- ple. With such a cause as yours, my Lord, it is not sufficient that you have the court at your devotion, unless you can find means to corrupt or intimidate the jury. The collective body of the people form that jury, and from their decis- ion there is but one appeal. Whether you have talents to support you at a crisis of such difficulty and danger, should long since have been considered. Judging truly of your disposition, you have perhaps mistaken the extent of your capacity. Good faith and folly have so long been received as synonymous terms, that the reverse of the proposition has grown into credit, and every villain fancies himself a man of abilities. It is the apprehension of your friends, my Lord, that 3'ou have drawn some hast}^ conclusion of this sort, and that a partial reliance upon your moral character has betrayed you beyond the depth of your understanding. You have now carried things too far to retreat. You have plainly declared to the people what they are to expect from the continuance of your administration. It is time for your Grace to con- sider lA'hat you also may expect in return from their spirit and their resentment. Since the accession of our most gracious sov- ereign to the throne, we have seen a system of government which may well be called a reign of experiments. Parties of all denominations have been employed and dismis.sed. The advice of the ablest men in this country has been repeat- edly called for and rejected ; and when the royal displeasure has been signified to a minister, the marks of it have usually been proportioned to his abilities and integrity. The spirit of the Fa- 186 JUNIUS voRiTE had some apparent influence upon every administration ; and every set of ministers pre- served an appearance of duration as long as they submitted to that influence.'^ But there were 2 If the reader v^'ishes to understand the true state of parties at this time, and the real merits of the so much agitated question oi favoritism, he will be aid- ed by a consideration of the following- facts : William III. was placed on the throne in the rev- olution of 1688, by a union of the great Whig fami- lies ; and his successors were held there against the efforts of the Jacobites by the same power. Hence the government of the counti-y "on Revolution prin- ciples," so often spoken of, was really, to a great extent, the government of the King himself as well as the coantry, by a union of these families power- ful enough to control Parliament. Junius has very graphically described, in the preceding Letter, the process by which George II., "under the happy in- fluence of a connection between his ministers, was relieved of the cares of government." When George III. came to the tlirone, he determined to break away from these shackles, and to rule according to his own views and feelings, selecting such men from all parties as he considered best fitted to adminis- ter the goveiTiment. If he had thrown himself into the hands of Lord Chatham for the accomplishment of this design, he would probably have succeeded. That great statesman, by the splendor of his abili- ties, and his unbounded influence with the body of the people, might have raised up a counterpoise against the weight of those great family combina- tions in the peerage. But George III. disliked the Great Commoner, and had no resource but his ear- ly friend, Lord Bute. But this nobleman had nei- ther the abilities nor the political influence which were necessary for the accomplishment of such a scheme. As a Scotchman, particularly, he had to encounter the bitterest jealousy of the English. After a brief effort to administer the government, he gave up the attempt in despair. Still, there was a wide-spread suspicion that he maintained an undue influence over the King by secret advice and inter- course. It seems now to be settled, however, that such was not the fact. The complaint of his con- tinuing to rule as Fa/vorito,, is now admitted to have been chiefly or wholly unfounded. But the King, if he persevered in his plan, must have some agents and advisers. Hence, it was maintained by Mr. Burke, in his celebrated pamphlet entitled Thoughts on the Present Discontents, that thei'e was a regu- lar organization, a " cabinet behind the throne," which oven-uled the measm*es of the ostensible min- istry. Such, substantially, were the views of Ju- nius, though he chose to give prominence to Lord Bute as most hated by the people. He represents one ministry after another to have been sacrificed through the influence of his Lordship. He treats the Duke of Grafton as the wilUng tool of this sys- tem of favoritism. All this was greatly exagger- ated. Private influence did probably exist to a lim- ited extent ; but the King's frequent changes of ministei's resulted partly from personal disgust, and partly from his inability to cany on the government without calling in new strength. The great Whig families, in the mean time, felt indignant at these attempts of the King to free himself from their con- trol. Junius represented the feelings of these men ; and there was much less of real patriotism in his at- tack on the King tlian he pretends. It was a strug- gle for power. "There were many," says an able writer, " among the Whig party, who rejoiced at the certain services to be performed for the Favor- ite's security, or to gratify his resentments, which your predecessors in office had the wis- dom or the virtue not to undertake. The mo- ment this refractory spirit was discovered, their disgrace was determined. Lord Chatham, Mr. Grenville, and Lord Rockingham have success- ively had the honor to be dismissed, for prefer- ring their duty, as servants of the public, to those compliances which were expected from their station. A submissive administration was at last gradually collected from the desertei's of all par- ties, interests, and connections ; and nothing re- mained but to find a leader for these gallant, well-disciplined troops. Stand forth, my Lord, for thou art the man ! Lord Bute found no re- source of dependence or security in the proud, imposing superiority of Lord Chatham's abilities, the shrewd, inflexible judgment of Mr. Grenville, nor in the mild but determined integrity of Lord Rockingham. His views and situation required a creature void of all these properties ; and he was forced to go through every division, reso- lution, composition, and refinement of political chemistry, before he happily arrived at the caput mortuum of vitriol in your Grace. Flat and in- sipid in your retired state, but, brought into ac- tion, you become vitriol again. Such are the extremes of alternate indolence or fury which have governed your whole administration. Your circumstances with regard to the people soon becoming desperate, like other honest servants, you determined to involve the best of masters in the same difficulties with yourself. We owe it to 3'our Grace's w^ell-directed labors, that your sovereign has been persuaded to doubt of the af- fections of his subjects, and the people to suspect the virtues of their sovereign, at a time when both were unquestionable. You have degraded the royal dignity into a base, dishonorable com- petition with Mr. Wilkes, nor had you abilities to carry even this last contemptible triumph over a private man, without the grossest violation of the fundamental laws of the Constitution and King's resolute determination to free himself from the thraldom in which ' the great Revolution fami- lies' were prepared to bind him. They felt that the reign of a haughty oligarchy was not merely degrad- ing to the sovereign, but niinous to tlie claims of 'new men' endowed with genius and capacity for affairs." The King, however, had not the requisite largeness or strength of understanding to cany out the design, and he had rejected the only man who could have enabled him to do it. He therefore tlu-ew Imnself into tlie hands of the Tories. But Ids quaiTcl with Wilkes was the great misfortune of his life. He seems at first to have been ignorant of the law on the points in question, and his ministers had not the honesty and firmness to set him right. On the contrary-, they went forward, at his bidding, into the most flagrant violations of the Constitution. The great body of the nation became alienated in their affections. On these points the attacks of Ju- nius were just, and liis services important in defend- ing the rights of the people. The King was defeat- ed ; he was compelled to give up the contest ; and subsequent votes of Parliament estabhshed the prin- ciples for which Junius contended. TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 187 rights of the people. But these are rights, my Lord, which you can no more annihilate than you can the soil to which they are annexed. The question no longer turns upon points of na- tional honor and security abroad, or on the de- grees of expediency and propriety of measures at home. It was not inconsistent that you should abandon the cause of liberty in another country [Corsica], which you had persecuted in 3'our own ; and in the common arts of domestic corruption, we miss no part of Sir Robert Walpole's system except his abilities. In this humble, imitative line you might long have proceeded, safe and con- temptible. You might probably never have risen to the dignity of being hated, and you might even have been despised with moderation. But, it seems, you meant to be distinguished ; and to a mind like yours there was no other road to fame but by the destruction of a noble fabric, which you thought had been too long the admiration of mankind. The use you have made of the military force, introduced an alarming change in the mode of executing the laws. The arbitrary appointment of Mr. Luttrell invades the founda- tion of the laws themselves, as it manifestly transfers the right of legislation from those whom the people have chosen to those whom they have rejected. With a succession of such appoint- ments, we may soon see a House of Commons collected, in the choice of which the other towns and counties of England will have as little share as the devoted county of Middlesex. Yet I trust your Grace will find that the peo- ple of this country are neither to be intimidated by violent measures, nor deceived by refinement. When they see Mr. Luttrell seated in the House of Commons by mere dint of power, and in di- rect opposition to the choice of a whole county, they will not listen to those subtleties by which every arbitrary exertion of authority is explained into the law and privilege of Parliament. It re- quires no persuasion of argument, but simply the evidence of the senses, to convince them, that to transfer the right of election from the collective to the representative body of the people, contra- dicts all those ideas of a House of Commons which they have received from their forefathers, and which they had already, though vainly, per- haps, delivered to their children. The princi- ples on which this violent measure has been de- fended have added scorn to injury, and forced us to feel that we are not only oppressed, but in- sulted. With what force, my Lord, with what protec- tion, are you prepared to meet the united detest- ation of the people of England? The city of London has given a generous example to the kingdom, in what manner a King of this country ought to be addressed ; and I fancy, my Lord, it is not yet in your courage to stand bet\veen your sovereign and the addresses of his subjects. The injuries you have done this country are such as demand not only redress, but vengeance. In vain shall you look for protection to that venal vote which you have already paid for : another must be purchased ; and, to save a minister, the ' House of Commons must declare themselves not only independent of their constituents, but the de- termined enemies of the Constitution. Consider, my Lord, whether this be an extremity to which their fears will permit them to advance ; or, if their protection should fail you, how far you are authorized to rely upon the sincerity of those smiles, which a pious court lavishes without re- luctance upon a libertine by profession. It is not, indeed, the least of the thousand contradic- tions which attend you, that a man, marked to the world by the grossest violation of all cere- mony and decorum, should be the first servant of a court, in which prayers are morality, and kneeling is religion.-^ Trust not too far to ap- pearances, by which your predecessors have been deceived, though they have not been injured. Even the best of princes may at last discover that this is a contention in which every thing may be lost, but nothing can be gained; and, as you became minister by accident, were adopted without choice, and continued without favor, be assured that, whenever an occasion presses, you will be discarded without even the forms of re- gret. You will then have reason to be thank- ful if you are permitted to retire to that seat of learning, which, in contemplation of the sys- tem of your life, the comparative purity of your mannei-s with those of their high steward [Lord Sandwich], and a thousand other recommending circumstances, has chosen you to encourage the growing virtue of their youth, and to preside over their education.^ Whenever the spirit of distributing prebends and bishoprics shall have departed from you, you will find that learned seminary perfectly recovered from the delirium of an installation, and, what in truth it ought to be, once more a peaceful scene of slumber and meditation. The venerable tutors of the uni- versity will no longer distress your modesty by proposing )^ou for a pattern to their pupils. The learned dullness of declamation will be silent ; and even the venal muse, though happiest in fic- tion, will forget your virtues. Yet, for the ben- efit of the succeeding age, I could wish that your retreat might be deferred until your morals shall happily be ripened to that maturity of corruption at which, philosophers tell us, the worst exam- ples cease to be contagious. Jui^ius. 3 This attack on the moral and religious character of the King was wholly unmerited. A sovereign can not always find ministers able to carry on the government, whose private character he approves. George III. had no grimace in his religion ; he was sincere and conscientious ; and he at last wrought a surprising change in the outward morals of the higher classes, by the purity of his own honschold. All En- gland has borne testimony to the wide-spread and powerful influence of his reign in this respect. * The Duke of Grafton had recently been installed Chancellor of the University of Cambridge with great pomp. The poet Gray, who owed his professorship to the unsolicited patronage of the Duke, had com- posed his Ode for Music, to be performed on that oc- casion, commencing, Hence! avaunt! 'tis holy ground ! Comus and his nightly crew, &c. 188 JUNIUS LETTER TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEDFORD. My Lord, — You are so little accustomed to receive any marks of respect or esteem from the public, that if, in the following lines, a compli- ment or expression of applause should escape me, I fear you would consider it as a mockery ^ Dated September 19th, 1769. The Bedford fam- ily was at this time the richest in England, and, through its borough interest and wide-spread alli- ances, stood foremost in political influence. The present Duke was now sixty years old, and had spent half his life in the conflicts of party. He first held office under Lord Carteret, then under Mr. Pel- ham, and was made Viceroy of Ireland by Lord Chat- ham in his first administration. Thus far he had act- ed as a Whig. But when Lord Bute drove out Lord Chatham in 1761, he took the office of Privy Seal, made vacant by the resignation of Chatham's broth- er-in-law. Lord Temple, and was now considered as uniting his interests to those of the Favorite. When Lord Bute resigned in 1763, the influence of the Duke became ascendant in the cabinet, and the ad- ministration, though ostensibly that of Mr. Gren- ville, has often been spoken of as the Duke of Bed- ford's. It was extremely unpopular, from the gen- eral belief that Lord Bute still ruled as Favorite ; and in 1765 it gave way to the administration of Lord Rockingham, which threw the Duke of Bed- ford wholly into the back-ground. The Duke of Graf- ton, when he became minister in 1767, through the illness of Lord Chatham and the death of Charles Townsend, found it necessary to call in new strength, and opened negotiations, as already mentioned, with Lord Rockingham on the one hand and the Duke of Bedford on the other. The Rockingham Whigs had the strongest hopes of prevailing in these new ar- rangements, and of being made virtual masters of the government. But the influence of the Duke of Bedford prevailed. Three of his dependents, Lords Weymouth, Gower, and Sandwich, were received into the ministry; and the Duke of Bedford drew upon himself the bitterest resentment of the Rock- ingham Whigs for thus depriving them of povper, and becoming, as they conceived, the savior of Lord Bute and the Tories, and thus re-establishing the system of secret influence in the closet. These events, as stated above, were the immediate cause which led the writer of these Letters to come out under a new signature, and in a bolder style of attack. Aft- er assailing the Duke of Grafton, as we have seen in the preceding letters, he now turns upon the Duke of Bedford in a spirit of still fiercer resentment. He reviews the whole public and private conduct of his Grace, and endeavors to call up all the odium of past transactions to enkindle new jealousies against him, as about to give increased eff'ect to a system of fa- voritism in the closet; and seeks at the same time to overwhelm the Duke himself with a sense of dis- honor, baseness, and folly, which might make him shrink from the public eye. There is nothing in all the writings of Junius that is more vehemently elo- quent than the close of this letter. It is proper to add, that this eloquence is, in far too many cases, un- supported by facts. of your established character, and perhaps an insult to your understanding. You have nice feelings, my Lord, if we may judge from your resentments. Cautious, therefore, of giving of- fense, where you have so little deserved it, I shall leave the illustration of your virtues to other hands. Your friends have a privilege to play upon the easiness of your temper, or pos- sibly they are better acquainted with your good qualities than I am. You have done good by stealth. The rest is upon record. You have still left ample room for speculation, when pan- egyric is exhausted. You are indeed a very considerable man. The highest rank, a splendid fortune, and a name, glo- rious till it was yours, were sufGcient to have sup- ported you with meaner abilities than I think you possess. From the first, you derived a constitu- tional claim to respect ; from the second, a natu- ral extensive authority ; the last created a partial expectation of hereditary virtues. The use you have made of these uncommon advantages might have been more honorable to yourself, but could not be more instructive to mankind. We may trace it in the veneration of your country, in the choice of your friends, and in the accomplish- ment of every sanguine hope which the public might have conceived from the illustrious name of Russell, The eminence of your station gave you a com- manding prospect of your duty.^ The road, which led to honor, was open to your view. You could not lose it by mistake, and you had no temptation to depart from it by design. Com- pare the natural dignity and importance of the richest peer of England ; the noble independ- ence which he might have maintained in Parlia- ment ; and the real interest and respect which he might have acquired, not only in Parliament, but through the whole kingdom ; compare these glo- rious distinctions with the ambition of holding a .share in government, the emoluments of a place, the sale of a borough, or the purchase of a cor- poration ; and, though you luay not regret the virtues which create respect, you may see, with anguish, how much real importance and author- ity you have lost. Consider the character of an independent, virtuous Duke of Bedford ; imagine 2 This and the next three paragraphs are among the finest specimens of composition to be found in Junius. Nowhere has he made so happy a use of contrast.' Commencing with a natural and express- ive image, he first sketches with ndujirable discrim- ination the character and conduct to be expected in the first peer of England, and then sets off" against it an artful and exaggerated representation of tlie political errors and private weaknesses of the Dake of Bedford during the preceding thirty years. I TO THE DUKE Of BEDFORD. 189 what he mighc be in this country, then reflect one moment upon what you are. If it be possi- ble for me to withdraw my attention from the fact, I will tell you in theory what such a man might be. Conscious of his own weight and importance, his conduct in Parliament would be directed by nothing but the constitutional duty of a peer. He would consider himself as a guardian of the laws. Willing to support the just measures of government, but determined to observe the con- duct of the minister with suspicion, he would op- pose the violence of faction with as much firm- ness as the encroachments of prerogative. He would be as little capable of bargaining with the minister for places for himself or his dependents, as of descending to mix himself in the intrigues of Opposition. Whenever an important ques- tion called for his opinion in Parliament, he would be heard, by the most profligate minister, with deference and respect. His authority would ei- ther sanctify or disgrace the measures of govern- ment. The people would look up to him as to their protector, and a virtuous prince would have one honest man in his dominions, in whose in- tegrity and judgment he might safely confide. If it should be the will of Providence to afflict him with a domestic misfortune, he would sub- mit to the stroke with feeling, but not without dignity.^ He would consider the people as his children, and receive a generous, heart-felt con- solation in the sympathizing tears and blessings of his country. Your Grace may probably discover something more intelligible in the negative part of this il- lustrious character. The man I have described would never prostitute his dignity in Parliament by an indecent violence either in opposing or de- fending a minister. He would not at one mo- ment rancorously persecute, at another basely cringe to the Favorite of his sovereign. After outraging the royal dignity with peremptory conditions, little short of menace and hostility, he would never descend to the humility of solicit- ing an interview with the Favorite, and of offer- ing to recover, at any price, the honor of his friendship.* Though deceived, perhaps, in his youth, he would not, through the course of a 3 The Duke had lately lost his only son, Lord Tav- istock, by a fall from his horse. There is great beau- ty in the turn of the next sentence, "he would con- sider the people as his children," which might well be done by a descendant of Lord William Russell, whose memory was venerated by the people as a martyr iu the cause of liberty. This thought gives double severity to the contrast that follows, iu which the character and conduct of the Duke are presented in such a light, that, instead of being able to repose his sorrows on the bosom of the people, he had made himself an object of their aversion or contempt. As to the justice of these insinuations respecting a want of " feeling" and " dignity" under this calamity, see the remarks at the end of this Letter. * It is stated in a note by Junius, " At this inter- view, which passed at the house of the late Lord Eg- lintoun. Lord Bute told the Duke that he was de- termip.ed never to have anv connection with a man long life, have invariably chosen his friends from among the most profligate of mankind. His own honor would have forbidden him from mixing his private pleasures or conversation with jockeys, gamesters, blasphemers, gladiators, or buffoons. He would then have never felt, much less would he have submitted to the dishonest necessity of engaging in the interests and intrigues of his de- pendents — of supplying their vices, or relieving their beggary at the expense of his country. He would not have betrayed such ignorance or such contempt of the Constitution as openly to avow, in a court of justice, the purchase and sale of a borough.'' He would not have thought it consistent with his I'ank in the state, or even with his personal importance, to be the little ty- rant of a little corporation.^ He would never have been insulted with virtues which he had labored to extinguish, nor suffered the disgrace of a mortifying defeat, which has made him ri- diculous and contemptible, even to the few by whom he was not detested. I revei'ence the afflictions of a good man — his sorrows are sa- cred. But how can we take part in the dis- tresses of a man whom we can neither love nor esteem, or feel for a calamity of which he him- self is insensible ? Where was the father's heart when he could look for, or find an imme- diate consolation for the loss of an only son in consultations and bargains for a place at court, and even in the misery of balloting at the India House 'V Admitting, then, that you have mistaken or deserted those honorable principles which ought to have directed your conduct ; admitting that you have as little claim to private affection as to public esteem, let us see with what abilities, with what degree of judgment you have carried your own system into execution. A great man, in the success, and even in the magnitude of his crimes, finds a rescue from contempt. Your Grace is every way unfortunate. Yet I will not look back to those ridiculous scenes, by which, in your earlier days, you thought it an honor to be distinguished : the recorded stripes, the pub- lic infamy, your own sufl^erings, or Mr. Rigby's fortitude.* These events undoubtedly left an im- who had so basely betrayed him." Horace Wal- pole confirms this statement. ^ This he did in an answer in Chancery, when sued for a large sum paid him by a gentleman, whom he had undertaken (but failed) to return as a mem- ber of Parliament. He was obliged to refund the money. ^ The town of Bedford had been greatly exasper- ated by the overbearing disposition of the Duke. To deliver themselves from the thraldom in wliich he had held them, they admitted a great number of strangers to the freedom of the corporation, and the Duke was defeated. ■^ As to the justice of this cruel attack, see the remarks at the end of the present Letter. ^ Note by Junius. " Mr. Heston Humphrey, a coun- try attorney, horsewhipped the Duke, with equal Justice, severity, and perseverance, on the course at Litchfield. Rigby and Lord Trentham were also cudgeled in a most exemplary manner. This gave 190 JUxMUS pi-ession. though not upon your mind. To such a mind, it may perhaps be a pleasure to reflect, that there is hardly a corner of any of his Maj- esty's kingdoms, except France, in which, at one time or other, your valuable life has not been in Amiable ! we see and acknowl- edge the protection of Providence, by which you have so often escaped the personal detestation of your fellow-subjects, and are still reserved for the public justice of your country. Your history begins to be important at that auspicious period at which you were deputed to represent the Earl of Bute at the court of Ver- sailles.^ It was an honorable office, and executed with the same spirit with which it was accepted. Your patrons wanted an embassador who would submit to make concessions w^ithout daring to in- sist upon any honorable condition for his sover- eign. Their business required a man who had as little feeling for his own dignity as for the welfare of his country ; and they found him in the first rank of the nobility! Belleisle, Goree, Guadaloupe, St. Lucia, Martinique, the Fishery, and the Havana, are glorious monuments of your Grace's talents for negotiation. My Lord, we are too well acquainted with your pecuniary rise to the following story : When the late King heard that Sir Edward Hawke had given the French a drubbing, his Majesty, who had never received that kind of chastisement, was pleased to ask Lord Chesterfield the meaning of the word. ' Sir,' said Lord Chesterfield, 'the meaning of the word — But here comes the Duke of Bedford, who is better able to explain it to your Majesty than I am.' " ^ Soon after Lord Chatham was driven from office in the midst of his glorious ministry, Lord Bute sent the Duke of Bedford to negotiate a treaty of peace with France, which was signed November 3d, 1762. The concessions then made, which are here enumer- ated by Junius, were generally considered as highly dishonorable to the country. They were not, how- ever, chargeable to the Duke of Bedford personally, though he may have been liable to censure for con- senting to negotiate such a treaty. The insinuation which follows, respecting the Duke's having received "some private compensa- tion," refers to a report in circulation soon after the treaty was signed, that the Duke had been bribed by the French, in common with the Princess Dow- ager of Wales, Lord Bute, and Mr. Henry Fox. The story was too ridiculous to be seriously noticed, but the matter was investigated by a committee of the House of Commons, and found to rest solely on the statement of a man named Musgrave, who had "no credible authority for the imputations of treach- ery and corruption which he was willing to propa- gate." — See Heron's Junius, i., 269. Still, Junius re- vived the story at the end of six years, and, when called upon for proof, had nothing to allege, except that the Duke was understood to love money. " I combined the known temper of the man with the ex- travagant concessions of the embassador." There was another and perfectly well-known reason for these "concessions." Lord Bute could not raise funds to carry on the war. The moneyed men would not trust him. He was, therefore, compelled to make peace on such terms as he could obtain. The downright dishonesty of Junius in tliis case naturally leads us to receive all his statements with distrust, unless supported by other evidence. character to think it possible that so many pub- lic sacrifices should have been made without some private compensation. Your conduct car- ries with it an interior evidence, beyond all the legal proof of a court of justice. Even the cal- lous pride of Lord Egremont was alarmed. He saw and felt his own dishonor in corresponding with you ; and there certainly was a moment at which he meant to have resisted, had not a fatal lethargy prevailed over his faculties, and carried all sense and memoiy away with it. I wall not pretend to specify the secret terms on which you were invited to support an admin- istration which Lord Bute pretended to leave in full possession of their ministerial authority, and perfectly masters of themselves. ^° He was not of a temper to relinquish power, though he re- tired from employment. Stipulations were cer- tainly made between your Grace and him, and certainly violated. After two years' submission, you thought you had collected a strength suffi- cient to control his influence, and that it was your turn to be a tyrant, because you had been a slave. ^^ When you found yourself mistaken in your opinion of your gracious master's firm- ness, disappointment got the better of all your humble discretion, and carried you to an excess of outrage to his person, as distant from true spirit, as from all decency and respect. After robbing him of the rights of a King, you would not permit him to preserve the honor of a gen tleman. It was then Lord Weymouth was nom- inated to Ireland, and dispatched (we well re- member with what indecent hurry) to plunder the treasury of the first fruits of an employment which you well knew he was never to execute. ^^ This sudden declaration of war against the Fa- vorite might have given you a momentary merit with the public, if it had been either adopted upon principle, or maintained with resolution. Without looking back to all your former seryil- 10 Junius here refers to the time when Lord Bute resigned, April 8th, 1763, and the Duke of Bedford and his friends came into power in connection with Mr. George Grenville. It was at this period that the Duke compelled the King, as mentioned in a former letter, to displace Mr. Stuart Mackenzie, brother of Lord Bute, who had received the royal promise of never being removed. This arose out of the Duke's jealousy of Lord Bute at that time, and a determination to show that he was not governed by him. ^' Note by Junius. "The ministry having endeav- ored to exclude the Dowager out of the Regency Bill, the Earl of Bute determined to dismiss them. Upon this the Duke of Bedford demanded an audi- ence of the King — reproached him in plain terms with his duplicity, baseness, falsehood, treachery, hypocrisy — repeatedly gave him the lie, and left him in convulsions." How far there is any truth in this statement, it is not easy now to say. It is prob- able there vi-as a rumor of this kind at the time ; but no one will believe that the King would ever have invited the Duke of Bedford again into his service (as he afterward did), if a tenth part of these indig- nities had been offered him. '^ He received three thousand pounds for plate and equipage money. TO THE DUKE OF BEDFORD. 191 ity, we netd only observe your subsequent con- duct, to see upon what motives you acted. Ap- parently united with Mr. Grenville, you waited until Lord Rockingham's feeble administration should dissolve in its own weakness. The mo- ment their dismission was .suspected, the moment you perceived that another system was adopted in the closet, you thought it no disgrace to re- turn to your former dependence, and solicit once more the friendship of Lord Bute. You begged an interview, at which he had spirit enough to treat you with contempt.'-^ It would now be of little use to point out by what a train of weak, injudicious measures it be- came necessary, or was thought so, to call you back to a share in the administration.^* The friends, whom you did not in the last instance desert, were not of a character to add strength or credit to government ; and at that time your alliance with the Duke of Grafton was, I pre- sume, hardly foreseen. We must look for other stipulations, to account for that sudden resolu- tion of the closet, by which three of your de- pendents (whose characters, I think, can not be less respected than they are) were advanced to offices, through which you might again control the minister, and probably engross the whole direction of affairs. The possession of absolute power is now once more within your reach. The measures you have taken to obtain and confirm it are too gross to es- cape the eyes of a discerning, judicious prince. His palace is besieged ; the lines of circumvalla- tion are drawing round him ; and unless he finds ' a resource in his activity, or in the attachment of the real friends of his family, the best of princes must submit to the confinement of a state prisoner, until your Grace's death, or some less fortunate event, shall raise the siege. For ^^ A negotiation was opened between Lord Tem- ple and Mr. Grenville on the one hand, and Lord Bute on the other. Mr. Grenville, however, refused to go forward without the Duke of Bedford, and Lord Bute, as stated above, refused to have any connection with his Grace. Horace Walpole makes a similar state- ment in his Memoirs of George III. ^■^ This refers to the call of the Duke of Bedford into the administration about a year before, which created so much disappointment to the Rockingham Whigs, and was probably the occasion, as already stated, of the first letter of Junius. The King is un- derstood to have recommended that measure ; and Junius intimates that the close existing alliance with the Duke of Grafton had not then been con- templated. Three of the Duke of Bedford's depend- ents, viz., Lords "Weymouth, Gower, and Sandwich, were now placed in very important stations. The Duke of Bedford was also suspected of being again united in full confidence with Lord Bute. Thus Ju- nius insinuates, a plan was formed for giving him the absolute control over the government in conjunction with the Duke of Grafton, but with authority over him. The whole paragraph was intended to alarm the people on the one hand, and those who were considered "the King's friends" on the other. It need not be repeated that these suspicions of Lord Bute's continued secret influence were, to a great extent, unfounded. " the present, you may safely resume that style of insult and menace, which even a private gentle- man can not submit to hear without being con- temptible. Mr. Mackenzie's history is ncjt vet forgotten, and you may find precedents enough of the mode in which an imperious subject may signify his pleasure to his sovereign. Where will this gracious monarch look for assistance, when the wretched Grafton could forget his ob- ligations to his master, and desert him for a hol- low alliance with sicch a man as the Duke of Bedford ? Let us consider you, then, as arrived at the summit of worldly greatness.'^ Let us suppose that all your plans of avarice and ambition are accomplished, and your most sanguine wishes gratified, in the fear as well as the hatred of the people. Can age itself forget that you are now in the last act of life ? Can gray hairs make folly venerable ? and is there no period to be re- served for meditation and retirement ? For shame, my Lord ! • Let it not be recorded of you, that the latest moments of your life were dedicated to the same unworthy pursuits, the same busy agitations, in which your youth and manhood were exhausted. Consider, that, al- though you can not disgrace your former life, you are violating the character of age, and ex- posing the impotent imbecility, after you have lost the vigor of the passions. Your friends will ask, perhaps, Whither shall this unhappy old man retire ? Can he remain in the metropolis, where his life has been so often threatened, and his palace so often attacked ? If he returns to Woburn [his country seat], scorn and mockery await him. He must create a sol- itude round his estate, if he would avoid the face of reproach and derision. At Plymouth, his de- struction wovild be more than probable ; at Exe- ter, inevitable. No honest Englishman will ever forget his attachment, nor any honest Scotchman forgive his treachery, to Lord Bute. At every town he enters, he must change his liveries and his name. Whichever way he flies, the Hue and Cry of the country pursues him. In another kingdom, indeed, the blessings of his administration have been more sensibly felt ; his virtues better understood ; or, at worst, they will not, for him alone, forget their hospitality.^^ As well might Verres have returnee, to Sicily. You have twice escaped, my Lord ; beware of a third experiment. The indignation of a whole people, plundered, insulted, and oppressed as they have been, will not always be disappointed. ^^ This and the remaining paragraphs are the most eloquent parts of the Letter. It is hardly necessary to remark how much there is in them of art, of pas- sion, and of keen discerninent into human character. There is a rapidity and glow of expression that ia truly admirable. The several places are enumer- ated where the Duke had formerly met with tokens of public aversion, and where he might expect again to be received with reproach and derision. 1* The Duke had been once in Ireland as Viceroy, and again when he was appointed to the principal honorary office in the University of Dublin. 192 JUNIUS It is in vain, therefore, to shift the scene. You can no more fly from j'our enemies than from yourself. Persecuted abroad, you look into your own heart for consolation, and find nothing but reproaches and despair. But, my Lord, you may quit the field of business, though not the field of danger ; and though you can not be safe, you may cease to be ridiculous. I fear you have listened too long to the advice of those perni- cious friends with whose interests you have sor- didly united your own, and for whom you have sacrificed every thing that ought to be dear to a man of honor. They are still base enough to encourage the follies of your age, as they once did the vices of your youth. As little acquaint- ed with the rules of decorum as with the laws of morality, they will not suffer you to profit by experience, nor even to consult the propriety of a bad character. Even now they tell you that life is no more than a dramatic scene, in which the hero should preserve his consistency to the last, and that, as you lived without virtue, you should die without repentance. Junius. The Duke of Bedford died four months after the publication of this letter, and Junius has suc- ceeded in handing down his character to poster- ity, as a monstrous compound of baseness and folly. It has been shown, however, in the pre- ceding notes, that some of his statements were gross falsehoods, while others were equally gross exaggerations. The Duke was certainly a very unpopular man. He did experience the public indignities mentioned in this Letter. He was mobbed by the Spitalfield weavers ; his life was more than once put in danger ; and his palace in Blooms- bury Square was assaulted by congregated thou- sands. This was done because the price of silk goods fell greatly after the peace which he ne- gotiated with France in 1762, and men like Ju- nius taught those ignorant mechanics to believe that the Duke of Bedford was the cause, when the fault, if there was any, lay with Lord Bute. In like manner, his administration in Ireland was unfortunate. His manners were shy and cold ; his temper was quick and imperious ; he had bad friends and advisers. The Primate of Ii-e- land united the factions of the country against him ; and mobs were stirred up to break into the public buildings and set his authority at defiance. And yet Horace Walpole, who, from being his friend, had become his political enemy, states, without hesitation, that the Duke went to Ire- land with the best intentions, and was really de- sirous to improve the condition of that miserable and distracted country. He was charged with meanness in his pecuniary concerns, and Junius sneers at his doing good " by stealth." Walpole adverts to this, and says, " his great economy was called avarice ; if so, it was blended with more generosity and goodness than that passion will commonly unite with." A writer in his favor stated, without contradiction, that " he had paid his brother's debts to the amount of c3£lOO,000 ; had made a splendid provision for the son whom he lost, and afterward for his widow ; and that he was distinguished for his bounty to his depend- ents and domestics." The most cruel charge in this Letter was that of insensibility to the loss of his son : a charge which Junius repeated with great vehemence on a subsequent occasion. Upon this subject, it will be sufficient to give a note of Sir Dennis Le Marchant, editor of Wal- pole's INIemoirs of George III., vol. ii., p. 443. " The Duke's memory has been repeatedly vin- dicated from this cruel aspersion, and never with more generous and indignant eloquence than by Lord Brougham, in his Political Sketches, vol. iii. It has always been understood in the quar- ters likely to be best informed, that he felt his son's loss deeply to the last hour of his life.^'' Instead, however, of yielding to his grief, he en- deavored to employ his thoughts upon public business, and the natural fervor of his disposition insensibly engaged him in the scenes before him, perhaps more deeply than he was aware. The meeting he attended at the India House must, as appears from the Company's books, have been that of April 8th, which determined the course to be taken by the Company on the government propositions : a great question, in which he took a lively interest. The force of mind he thus displayed is noticed with commendation in a letter written at the time by David Hume, who, from his connection with Conway, is assuredly an impartial witness. The absurd charge brought by Junius [Letter xxix.] against the Duchess, of making money by her son Lord Tavistock's wardrobe, originated in its having been sold for the benefit of his valet and Lady Tavistock's maid, according to the general practice of that day." Horace Walpole, speaking of this subject, while he censures the Duke for going to the balloting at the India House, says he " was carried there by his creatures, Lord Sandwich, Earl Gower, and Mr. Rigby, to vote." He speaks also of these men and their associates, usually called " the Bloomsbury gang," as having been shunned by Lord Tavistock, and says, " the indecent indif- ference with which such a catastrophe [his sud- den death] was felt by the faction of the family, spoke too plainly that Lord Tavistock had lived a reproach and terror to them." We have here the secret of a considerable portion of the Duke's misfortunes for life — those "pernicious friends" spoken of by Junius, who had " a privilege to play on the easiness of his temper." He was a very ardent politician ; and was i-educed to " the necessity of engaging in the interest and in- trigues of his dependents : of supplying their vices and relieving their beggary at the expense of his country." His ardor in politics led him into the borough-mongering alluded to in this Letter, It also made him " at one time rancor- ously persecute, and at another basely cringe to, the Favorite of the Sovereign." In connection ^'' "Walpole says that, "on hearing of his death, the Duke for a few days almost lost his senses." TO THE KING. 193 with the impetuosity of his feelings and his sud- den bursts of passion, it betrayed him into " in- decent violence in opposing or defending minis- ters." These were his real faults, and they were great ones ; but they by no means imply that de- pravity of heart imputed to him by Junius ; and it will be observed, that this writer, in all the bit- terness of his satire, does not charge the Duke with being personally an immoral man. Wal- pole says '^ he was a man of inflexible honesty and good will to his country." " His parts were certainly far from shining, and yet he spoke read- ily, and upon trade, well. His foible was speak- ing upon every subject, and imagining he under- stood it, as he must have done, by inspiration. He was always governed — generally by the Duchess ; though immeasurably obstinate when once he had formed or had an opinion instilled into him. His manner was impetuous, of which he was so little sensible, that, being told Lord Halifax was to succeed him, he said, ' He is too warm and overbearing : the King v»'ill never en- dure him.' If the Duke of Bedford would have thought less of himself, the world would proba- bly have thought better of him." — Memoirs of George II., vol. i., p. 186. LETTER TO THE KING. When the complaints of a brave and powerful ^ Dated December 19th, 1769. The Whigs had now effected a union among- themselves. Lord Chatham had so far recovered from his three years' illness as to make it certain that he would soon be able to appear in the House of Lords. A I'econcili- ation had taken place between him and the Gren- ville and Rockingham Whigs ; a new session of Par- liament xvas about to commence ; and that voice was again to be heai'd in its councils which had so often summoned the nation to the defense of its rights. Junius, though acting by himself, would of course be acquainted with these arrangements ; and to prepare the way for the approaching struggle, he now turns from the ministry to the Throne, and en- deavors at once to intimidate the King, and to rouse the people to a determined resistance of the govern- ment. The leading object of this Letter is to show the King, (1.) How great an error he had committed in making the Tories (the hereditaiy suppoi'ters of the Stuarts) the depositories of his power, and in choos- ing a Favorite from among them, while he rejected the Whigs, who had brought in the Hanover family, and thus far held them on the throne. (2.) How dis- honorable was the contest he was then carrying on against a man of con-upt principles and abandoned life, whose cause good men wei'e nevertheless com- pelled to take up against their sovereign, in defense of the dearest rights of the subject. (3.) That the breach of the Constitution in seating Mr. Lnttrell, to the exclusion of Mr. Wilkes, in the House of Com- mons, was one which the nation could not long en- dure ; that a contest was coming on between the King and the English people, in which all his reli- ances throughout the empire would certainly fail him ; and that he ought in time to remember that " as his title to the throne was acquired by one rev- olution, it may be lost by another." Junius there- fore exhorts him to turn from his ministers to the nation ; to dissolve Parliament (a measure which the Whigs had now determined to press as their main point), and thus leave the people to decide the question by the choice of a new House of Commons. There is but little to condemn in this Letter, except the ridiculous charge that " England had been sold to France" in making the peace of 1762, and the at- tempt to create a national animosity against the Scotch. The King had fallen into great en-ors, al- though there were palliatinir circumstances in his N people are observed to increase in proportion to the wrongs they have suffered — when, instead of sinking into submission, they are roused to re- sistance — the time will soon arrive at which ev- ery inferior consideration must yield to the secu- rity of the sovereign and to the general safety of the state. There is a moment of difficulty and danger, at which flattery and falsehood can no longer deceive, and simplicity itself can no long- er be misled. Let us suppose it arrived. Let us suppose a gi-acious, well-intentioned prince, made sensible at last of the great duty he owes to his people, and of his own disgraceful situa- tion ; that he looks round him for assistance, and asks for no advice but how to gratify the wishes, and secure the happiness of his subjects. In these circumstances it may be matter of curious SPECULATION to considcr, if an honest man were permitted to appi'oach a King, in what terms he would address himself to his sovereign. Let it be imagined, no matter how improbable, that the first prejudice against his character is removed, that the ceremonious difficulties of an audience are surmounted, that he feels himself animated by the purest and most honorable affections to his King and country, and that the great person whom he addresses has spirit enough to bid him speak freely, and understanding enough to listen to him with attention. Unacquainted with the vain impertinence of forms, he would deliver his sentiments with dignity and firmness, but not without respect.^ early education, and his strong aversion to Wilkes as a licentious and profligate man. Still, they were errors which involved the safety of the empire ; it was right to expose them ; and while Junius does it with the utmost plainness, he shows comparatively little of that insulting and malignant spirit which characterized his attack upon the King in his first Letter. 2 It will repay the student in oratory to review this introduction, and see how skillfully the reasons which justified so remarkable an address to the sov- ereign, are summed up and presented. He will ob- serve, too, how adroitly Junius assumes the air of one engaged in " a curious speculation" on a sup- posed case, giving what follows as a mere fancy' >4 JUNIUS / Sir, — It is the misfortune of your life, and originally the cause of every reproach and dis- tress which has attended your government, that you should never have been acquainted with the language of truth until you heard it in the com- plaints of your people. It is not, however, too late to correct the en-or of your education. We are still inclined to make an indulgent allowance for the pernicious lessons you received in your youth, and to form the most sanguine hopes from the natural benevolence of your disposition.^ We are far from thinking you capable of a di- rect, deliberate purpose to invade those original rights of your subjects, on which all their civil sketch, in order to take off the appearance of intend- ing^ any thing personally offensive to the King. He will be struck, also, with the dexterity shown in as- suming just the requisite appearance of playing with the subject, when he says, " if an honest man were permitted to approach a King ;" and the delicacy and apparent respect with which he enters on the task of administering to his sovereign unsought-for counsel and humiliating reproof. ^ Note by Junius. The plan of tutelage and fu- ture dominion over the heir-apparent, laid many years ago at Carlton House between the Princess Dowager and her favorite the Earl of Bute, was as gross and palpable as that which was concerted be- tween Anne of Austria and Cardinal Mazarin to govern Louis the Fourteenth, and in effect to pro- long his minority until the end of their lives. That prince had strong natural parts, and used frequently to blush for his own ignorance and want of educa- tion, which had been willfully neglected by his moth- er and her minion. A little experience, however, soon showed him how shamefully he had been treat- ed, and for what infamous purposes he had been kept in ignorance. Our great Edward, too, at an early period, had sense enough to understand the nature of the connection between his abandoned mother and the detested Mortimer. But, since that time, human nature, we may observe, is greatly al tered for the better. Dowagers may be chaste, and minions may be honest. When it was proposed to settle the present King's household as Prince of Wales, it is well known that the Earl of Bute was forced into it, in direct contradiction to the late King's inclination. That was the salient point from which all the mischiefs and disgraces of the present reign took life and motion. From that moment. Lord Bute never suffered the Prince of Wales to be an instant out of his sight. We need not look farther. On this statement Mr. Heron makes the following remarks in his edition of Junius, vol. ii., 43 : " There was, therefore, no dishonest plan for keeping the King in perpetual pupilage formed between his mother and the Earl of Bute. Neither had George the Second nor the Princess Dowager of ^Vales committed the education of the young Prince to the Jacobites and Tories. His education was not neg- lected, but managed with admirable success and care. Not the young King, but their incapacity and unpopularity, drove the Newcastle party from pow- er. Not the King, but his own arrogance, and the opposition and dislike of the Newcastle party and others, dismissed Mr. Pitt from the administration. The union of parties, and the breaking down of the great Whig party, was originally the measure of Pitt, and arose from the natural progress of things. So unjust are the imputations with which this Let- ter commences." The truth lies between the two. and political liberties depend. Had it been pos- sible for us to entertain a suspicion so dishonor- able to your character, we should long since have adopted a style of remonstrance very dis- tant from the humility of complaint. The doc- trine inculcated by our laws, that the King can do no wrongs is admitted without reluctance. We separate the amiable, good-natured prince from the folly and treachery of his servants, and the private virtues of the man from the vices of his government. Were it not for this just dis- tinction, I know not whether your Majesty's con- dition, or that of the English nation, would de- serve most to be lamented. I would prenare your mind for a favorable reception of truth, by removing eveiy painful, offensive idea of per^-onal reproach. Your subjects, six-, wish for nothing but that, as they are reasonable and affectionate enough to separate your person from your gov- ernment, so you. in your turn, should distinguish between the conduct which becomes th'j perma- nent dignity of a King, and that which serves only to promote the temporary interest and mis- erable ambition of a minister. You ascended the throne with a declared, and, I doubt not, a sincere resolution of giving uni- versal satisfaction to your subjects. You found them pleased with the novelty of a young prince, whose countenance promised even more than his w^ords, and loyal to you not only from principle, but passion. It was not a cold profession of al- legiance to the first magistrate, but a partial, ani- mated attachment to a favorite prince, the native of their country. They did not wait to examine your conduct, nor to be determined by experi- ence, but gave yon a generous credit for the future blessings of your reign, and paid you in advance the dearest tribute of their affections. Such, sir, was once the disposition of a people, wiio now surround your throne with reproaches and complaints. Do justice to yourself. Banish from your mind these unw^orthy opinions with which some interested persons have labored to possess you. Distrust the men who tell 3'ou that the English are naturally light and inconstant ; that they complain w^ithout a cause. Withdraw your confidence equally from all parties — from ministers, favorites, and relations ; and let there be one moment in your life in which you have consulted your own understanding. When you affectedly renounced the name of Englishman,'* believe me, sir, you were persuad- ed to pay a very ill-judged compliment to one part of your subjects, at the expense of another. While the natives of Scotland are not in actual rebellion, they are undoubtedly entitled to pro- tection ; nor do I mean to condemn the policy * Junius here lays hold of and perverts the lan- guage used by the King in his first speech after coming to the throne: "Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Briton,'^ &c. The pi-evailing hostility to the Scotch led many to com- ment on this avoidance of the word Englishman, as probably dictated by Lord Bute, and as indicating too much anxiety to conciliate the people of Scot- land. TO THE KING. 195 of giving some encouragement to the novelty of their affections for the house of Hanover. I am ready to hope for every thing from their new- born zeal, and from the future steadiness of their allegiance. But hitherto they have no claim to your favor. To honor them wuth a determined predilection and confidence, in exclusion of your English subjects, vs'ho placed your family, and, in spite of treachery and rebellion, have support- ed it upon the throne, is a mistake too gross even for the unsuspecting generosity of youth. In this error we see a capital violation of the most obvious rules of policy and prudence. We trace it, however, to an original bias in your ed- ucation, and are ready to allow for your inexperi- ence. To the same early influence we attribute it, that you have descended to take a share not only in the narrow views and interests of particular persons, but in the fatal malignity of their pas- sions. At your accession to the throne, the whole system of government was altered, not from wisdom or deliberation, but because it had been adopted by your predecessor. A little personal motive of pique and resentment was sufficient to remove the ablest servants of the Crown ; but it is not in this countr)'^, sir, that such men can be dishonored by the frowns of a King.'' They were dismissed, but could not be disgraced. Without entering into a minuter discussion of the merits of the peace, we may observe, in the imprudent hurry with which the first overtures from France were accepted, in the conduct of the negotiation, and terms of the treaty, the strongest marks of that precipitate spirit of concession with which a certain part of your subjects have been at all times ready to purchase a peace with the natural enemies of this country. On your part we are satisfied that every thing was honorable and sincere, and if England was sold to France, we doubt not that your Majesty w^as equally betrayed. The conditions of the peace were matter of grief and surprise to your subjects, but not the immediate cause of their present discontent. Hitherto, sir, you had been sacrificed to the prejudices and passions of others. With what firmness will you bear the mention of your own ? A man, not very honorably distinguished in the world, commences a formal attack upon your Favorite, considering nothing but how he might best expose his person and principles to detest- ation, and the national character of his country- men to contempt. The natives of that country, sir, are as much distinguished by a peculiar character as by your Majesty's favor. Like another chosen people, they have been conduct- ed into the Land of Plenty, where they find themselves effectually marked, and divided from mankind. There is hardly a period at which ^ Note by Junius. One of the first acts of the pi-esent reign was to dismiss Mr. Legfge. because he had some years before refused to yield his inter- est in Hampshire to a Scotchman recommended by Lord Bute. This was the reason publicly assigned by his Lordship. the most irregular character may not be re- deemed. The mistakes of one sex find a re- treat in patriotism ; those of the other in devo- tion. Mr. Wilkes brought with him into politics the same liberal sentiments by which his private conduct had been directed, and seemed to think, that, as there are few excesses in which an En- glish gentleman may not be permitted to indulge, the same latitude was allowed him in the choice of his political principles, and in the spirit of maintaining them. I mean to state, not entirely to defend his conduct. In the earnestness of his zeal, he suffered some unwarrantable insinu- ations to escape him. He said more than moder- ate men would justify, but not enough to entitle him to the honor of your Majesty's personal re- sentment. The rays of royal indignation, col- lected upon him, served only to illuminate, and could not consume. Animated by the favor of the people on one side, and heated by persecution on the other, his views and sentiments changed with his situation. Hardly serious at first, he is now an enthusiast. The coldest bodies warm with op- position, the hardest sparkle in collision. There is a wholly mistaken zeal in politics as well as re- ligion. By persuading others, we convince our- selves. The passions are engaged, and create a maternal affection in the mind, which forces us to love the cause for which we suffer. Is this a contention worthy of a King ? Are you not sen- sible how much the meanness of the cause gives an air of ridicule to the serious difficulties into which you have been betrayed ? The destruc- tion of one man has been now, for many years, the sole object of your government ; and, if there can be any thing still more disgraceful, we have seen, for such an object, the utmost influence of the ex- ecutive power, and every ministerial artifice, ex- erted without success. Nor can you ever suc- ceed, unless he should be imprudent enough to forfeit the protection of those laws to which you owe your crown, or unless your ministers should persuade you to make it a question of force alone, and try the whole strength of government in op- position to the people. The lessons he has re- ceived from experience will probably guard him from such excess of folly ; and in your Majesty's virtues we find an unquestionable assurance that no illegal violence will be attempted. Far from suspecting you of so horrible a de- sign, we would attribute the continued violation of the laws, and even this last enormous attack upon the vital principles of the Constitution, to an ill-advised, unworthy personal resentment. From one false step you have been betrayed into another, and, as the cause was unworthy of you, your ministers were determined that the pru- dence of the execution should correspond with the wisdom and dignity of the design. They have reduced you to the necessity of choosing out of a variety of difficulties — to a situation so unhappy, that you can neither do wrong without ruin, nor right without affliction. These worthy servants have undoubtedly given you many sin- gular proofs of their abilities. Not contented with making Mr. Wilkes a man of importance. 19G JUNIUS they have judicionsly transferred the question from the rights and interests of one man to the most important rights and interests of the people, and forced your subjects, from wishing well to tlie cause of an individual, to unite with him in their own. Let them proceed as they have be- gun, and your Majesty need not doubt that the catastrophe will do no dishonor to the conduct of the piece. The circumstances to which you ai-e reduced will not admit of a compromise with the English nation. Undecisive, qualifying measures will disgrace your government still more than open violence, and, without satisfying the people, will excite their contempt. They have too much understanding and spirit to accept of an indirect satisfaction for a direct injury. Nothing less than a repeal, as formal as the resolution itself, can heal the wound which has been given to the Constitution, nor will any thing less be ac- cepted. I can readily believe that there is an influence sufficient to recall that pernicious vote. The House of Commons undoubtedly consider their duty to the Crown as paramount to all other obligations. To us they are only indebt- ed for an accidental existence, and have justly trans-ferred their gratitude from their parents to their benefactors — from those who gave them birth, to the minister from whose benevolence they derive the comforts and pleasures of their political life ; who has taken the tenderest care of their infancy, relieves their necessities with- out offending their delicacy, and has given them, what they value most, a virtuous education. But, if it were possible for their integrity to be degraded to a condition so vile and abject, that, compared with it, the present estimation they stand in is a state of honor and respect, con- sider, .sir, in w^hat manner you will afterward proceed ? Can you conceive that the people of this country will long submit to be governed by so flexible a House of Commons? It is not in the nature of human society that any form of government, in such circumstances, can long be preserved. In ours, the general contempt of the people is as fatal as their detestation. Such, I am persuaded, would bo the necessary effect of any base concession made by the present House of Commons ; and, as a qualifying measure would not be accepted, it remains for you to decide whether you will, at any hazai'd, support a set of men, who have reduced you to this unhappy dilemma, or whether you wnll gratify the united wishes of the whole people of England by dis- solving the Parliament. Taking it for granted, as I do very sincerely, that you have personally no design against the Constitution, nor any views inconsistent with the good of your subjects, I think you can not hesi- tate long upon the choice which it equally con- cerns your interest and your honor to adopt. On one side, you hazard the aflections of all your English subjecie ; you relinquish every hope of repose to yourseii", and you endanger the estab- lishment of your family forever. All this you venture for no ol)ject whatsoever, or for such an object as it would be an affront to you to name. Men of sense will examine your conduct with suspicion ; while those who are incapable of comprehending to what extent they are injured, afllict you with clamors equally insolent and un- meaning. Supposing it pos.sible that no fatal struggle should ensue, you determine at once to be unhappy, without the hope of a compensation either from interest or ambition. If an English king be hated or despised, he must be unhappy ; and this, perhaps, is the only political truth which he ought to be convinced of without experiment. But if the English people should no longer con- fine their resentment to a submissive represent- ation of their wrongs ; if, following the glorious example of their ancestors, they should no longer appeal to the creature of the Constitution, but to that high Being who gave them the rights of humanity, whose gifts it were sacrilege to sur- render, let me ask 3'ou, sir, upon what part of your subjects would you rely for assistance ? The people of Ireland have been uniformly plundered and oppressed. In return, they give you every day fresh marks of their resentment. They despise the miserable governor [Viscount Townsend] you have sent them, because he is the creature of Lord Bute ; nor is it from any natural confusion in their ideas that they are so ready to confound the original of a king with the disgraceful representation of him. The distance of the colonies would make it impossible for them to take an active concern in your affairs, if they were as well affected to your government as they once pretended to be to your person. They were ready enough to (distinguish between you and your ministers. They com- plained of an act of the Legislature, but traced the origin of it no higher than to the servants of the Crown. They pleased themselves with the hope that their Sovereign, if not favorable to their cause, at least was impartial. The deci- sive, personal part you took against them, has effectually banished that first distinction from their minds.° They consider you as united with your servants against America, and know how to distinguish the sovereign and a venal Parliament on one side, from the real sentiments of the English people on the other- Looking forward to independence, they might possibly I'eceive you for their king ; but, if ever you re- tire to America, be assured they will give you such a Covenant to digest, as the presbytery of Scotland would have been ashamed to offer to Charles the Second. They left their native land in search of freedom, and found it in a des- ert. Divided as they are into a thousand forms fi In the King's speech of 8th November, 1768, it was declared "that the spirit of faction had broken I out afresh in some of the colonies, and, in one of I them, proceeded to acts of violence and resistance to the execution of the laws ; that Boston was in a I .state of disobedience to all law and government, and had proceeded to measures subversive of the Con- I stitution, and attended with circumstances that man- ifested a disposition to throw off their dependence I on Great Britain." TO THE KING. 197 of policy and religion, there is one point in which they all agree : they equally detest the pageantry of a King, and the supercilious hypocrisy of a bishop. Il is not, then, from the alienated affections of Ireland or America, that you can reasonably look for assistance ; still less from the people of En- gland, who are actually contending for their rights, and, in this great question, are parties against you. You are not, however, destitute of every appearance of support. You have all the Jacobites, Nonjurors, Roman Catholics, and Tories of this country, and all Scotland without exception. Considering from what family you are descended, the choice of your friends has been singularly directed ; and truly, sir, if you had not lost the Whig interest of England, I should admire your dexterity in turning the hearts of your enemies. Is it possible for you to place any confidence in men, who, before they are faithful to you, must i-enounce every opinion, and betray every principle, both in church and state, which they inherit from their ancestors, and are confirmed in by their education ? whose numbers are so inconsiderable, that they have lotig since been obliged to give up the princi- ples and language which distinguished them as a party, and to fight under the banners of their enemies ? Their zeal begins with hypocrisy, and must conclude in treachery. At first they deceive, at last they betray. As to the Scotch, I must suppose your heart and understanding so biased, from your earliest infancy, in their favor, that nothing less than your own misfortunes can undeceive you. You will not accept of the uniform experience of 3'our an- cestors ; and when once a man is determined to believe, the very absurdity of the doctrine con- firms him in his faith. A bigoted understanding can draw a proof of attachment to the house of Hanover from a notorious zeal for the house of Stuart, and find an earnest of future loyalty in former rebellions. Appearances are, however, in their favor ; so sti'ongly, indeed, that one would think they had forgotten that you are their lawful King, and had mistaken you for a Pretender to the crown. Let it be admitted, then, that the Scotch are as sincere in their present professions as if you were in reality not an Englishman, but a Briton of the North — you would not be the first prince of their native country against whom they have rebelled, nor the first whom they have basely betx-ayed. Have you forgotten, sir, or has your Favorite concealed from you that part of our history, when the un- ha|»py Charles (and he, too, had private virtues) fled from the open, avowed indignation of his En- glish subjects, and surrendered himself at discre- tion to the good faith of his own countrymen ? Without looking for support in their affections as subjects, he applied only to their honor as gentlemen, for protection. They received him as they would your Majesty, with bows, and smiles, and falsehood, and kept him until they had settled their bargain with the English Par- liament; then basely sold their native king to the vengeance of his enemies. This, sir, was not the act of a few traitors, but the deliberate treachery of a Scotch Parliament representing the nation. A wise prince might draw from it two lessons of equal utility to himself. On one side he might learn to dread the undisguised re- sentment of a generous people, who dare openly assert their rights, and who, in a just cause, are ready to meet their sovereign in the field. On the other side, he would be taught to apprehend some- thing far more formidable — a fawning treachery, against which no prudence can guard, no courage can defend. The insidious smiles upon the cheek would warn him of the canker in the heart. From the uses to which one part of the army has been too frequently applied, you have some reason to expect that there are no services they would refuse. Here, too, we trace the partiality of your understanding. You take the sense of the army from the conduct of the Guards, with the same justice with which you collect the sense of the people from the representations of the ministry. Your marching regiments, sir, will not make the Guards their example, either as soldiers or subjects. They feel and resent, as they ought to do, that invariable, undistin- guishing favor with which the Guards are treat- ed ; while those gallant troops, by whom every hazardous, every laborious service is performed, are left to perish in garrisons abroad, or pine in quarters at home, neglected and forgotten." If they had no sense of the great original duty they owe their country, their resentment would oper- ate like patriotism, and leave your cause to be defended by those to whom you have lavished the rewards and honors of their profession. The Pretorian bands, enervated and debauched as they were, had still strength enough to awe the Ro- man populace ; but when the distant legions took the alarm, they marched to Rome, and gave away the Empire.^ On this side, then, whichever way you turn your eyes, you see nothing but perplexity and distress. You may determine to support the very ministry who have reduced your affairs to this deplorable situation ; you may shelter your- self under the forms of Parliament, and set your '' Note by Junius. The number of commissioned officers in the Guards ^*Ji.to the marching regiments C->^' as one to eleven ; the number of regiments given to the Guards, compared with those given to the line, is about three to one, at a moderate computation ; consequently, the partiality in favor of the Guards, is as thirty-three to one. So much for the officer.s The private men have fourpence a day to subsist on, and five hundred lashes if they desert. Under this punishment they frequently expire. With these encouragements, it is supposed they may be de- pended upon, whenever a certain person thinks it necessary to butcher h\s felloiv -subjects. 8 This is one of the passages which show the fa- miliarity of .Junius with Tacitus, when composing these Letters. The event referred to was the marcli of the German legions to Rome, under Vitel- lius, and their defeat of the Pretorian Bands, who bad previously given the imperial dignity to Otho, from whom it passed to Vitellius. 198 JUNIUS people at defiance. But, be assured, sir, that such a resohition would be as imprudent as it would be odious. If it did not immediately shake your establishment, it would rob you of your peace of mind forever. On the other, how different is the prospect ! How easy, how safe and honorable is the path before you ! The English nation declare they are grossly injured by their representatives, and solicit your Majesty to exert your lawful pre- rogative, and give them an opportunity of recall- ing a trust, which, they find, has been so scan- dalously abused. You are not to be told that the power of the House of Commons is not orig- inal, but delegated to them for the welfare of the people, from whom they received it. A ques- tion of right arises between the constituent and the representative body. By what authority shall it be decided ? Will your Majesty inter- fere in a question in which you have properly no immediate concern ? It would be a step equal- ly odious and unnecessary. Shall the Lords be called upon to determine the rights and privi- leges of the Commons? They can not do it without a flagrant breach of the Constitution. Or will you refer it to the judges ? They have often told your ancestors that the law of Parlia- ment is above them. What party then remains, but to leave it to the people to determine for themselves ? They alone are injured ; and since there is no superior power to M'hich the cause can be referred, they alone ought to determine. I do not mean to perplex you with a tedious argument upon a subject already so discussed, that inspiration could hardly throw a new light upon it. There are, however, two points of view in which it particularly imports your Maj- esty to consider the late proceedings of the House of Commons. By depriving a subject of his birthright, they have attributed to their own vote an authority equal to an act of the whole Legislature ; and, though perhaps not with the same motives, have strictly followed the exam- ple of the Long Parliament, which first declared the regal office useless, and soon after, with as little ceremony, dissolved the House of Lords. The same pretended power which robs an En- glish subject of his birthright, may rob an En- glish King of his crown. In another view, the resolution of the House of Commons, apparently not so dangerous to your Majesty, is still more alarming to your people. Not contented with divesting one man of his right, they have arbi- trarily conveyed that right to another. They have set aside a return as illegal, without daring to censure those officers who were particularly apprised of Mr. Wilkes's incapacity, not only by the declaration of the House, but expressly by the writ directed to them, and who nevertheless returned him as duly elected.^ They have re- 5 There is force in this remark. If there was any blame in the Middlesex election, it certainly rested with the returning officers. They ought to have known, better than the common people of Middlesex could be presumed to know, whether Mr. Wilkes was disqualified by his expulsion from the House. jected the majority of votes, the only criterion by which our laws judge of the sense of the peo- ple ; they have transferred the right of election from the collective to the representative body ; and by these acts, taken separately or together, they have essentially altered the original consti- tution of the House of Commons. Versed, as your Majesty undoubtedly is, in the English his- tory, it can not easily escape you, how much it is to your interest, as well as your duty, to pre- vent one of the three estates from encroaching upon the province of the other two, or assuming the authority of them all. When once they have departed from the great constitutional line by which all their proceedings should be direct- ed, who will answer for their future moderation? Or what assurance will they give you, that, when they have trampled upon their equals, they will submit to a superior ? Your Majesty may learn hereafter how nearly the slave and tyrant are allied. Some of your council, more candid than the rest, admit the abandoned profligacy of the pres- ent House of Commons, but oppose their disso- lution upon an opinion, I confess not very unwar- rantable, that their successors would be equally at the disposal of the treasury. I can not per- suade myself that the nation will have profited so little by experience. But if that opinion were well founded, you miorht then gratify our wishes at an easy rate, and appease the present clamor against your government without offering any material injury to the favorite cause of corrup- tion. You have still an honorable part to act. The affections of your subjects may still be recover- ed. But, before you subdue their hearts, you must gain a noble victory over your own. Dis- card those little personal resentments which have too long directed your public conduct. Pardon this man the remainder of his punishment, and, if resentment still prevails, make it, what it should have been long since, an act, not of mercy, but contempt. '° He will soon fall back into his nat- ural station — a silent senator, and hardly sup- porting the weekly eloquence of a newspaper. The gentle breath of peace would leave him on But they received the votes, and returned him as member, and then the House of Commons punished the electors by setting aside their votes, without a word of censure on the returning officers. 10 He iva.'i pardoned and released from prison within less than four months. This Letter probably convinced the King that he could no longer main- tain the contest. A general illumination took place throughout London on the night following his re- lease. His debts had been previonsly paid or com- promised by the Society of the People's Rights. Wilkes was soon after chosen an alderman of Lon- don, and subsequently Lord Mayor. At the next general election in 1774, he was returned again as member for Middlesex, and took his seat without opposition. On the dismissal of Lord North's ad- ministration in 1782, the obnoxious resolutions which gave Colonel Luttrell his seat were expunged, on his own motion, from the journals of the House of Commons. TO THE KING. 199 the surface, neglected and unremoved. It is only the tempest that lifts him from his place. Without consulting your minister, call togeth- er your whole council. Let it appear to the public that you can determine and act for your- self. Come forward to your people. Lay aside the wretched formalities of a King, and speak to your subjects with the spirit of a man, and in the language of a gentleman. Tell them you have been fatally deceived. The acknowledg- ment will be no disgrace, but rather an honor to your understanding. Tell them you are determ- ined to remove every cause of complaint against your government ; that you will give your con- fidence to no man who does not possess the con- fidence of your subjects ; and leave it to them- selves to determine, by their conduct at a future election, whether or no it be in reality the gen- eral sense of the nation, that their rights have been arbitrarily invaded by the present House of Commons, and the Constitution betrayed. They will then do justice to their representa- tives and to themselves. These sentiments, sir, and the style they are conveyed in, may be offensive, perhaps, because they are new to you. Accustomed to the lan- guage of courtiers, you measure their affections by the vehemence of their expressions ; and when they only praise you indirectly, you admire their sincerity. But this is not a time to trifle with your fortune. They deceive you, sir, who tell you that you have many friends, whose affections are founded upon a principle of personal attach- ment. The first foundation of friendship is not the power of conferring benefits, but the equal- ity with which they are received, and viay be re- turned. The fortune which made you a King forbade you to have a friend. It is a law of na- ture which can not be violated with impunity. The mistaken prince, who looks for friendship, will find a Favorite, and in that Favorite the ruin of his affairs. The people of England are loyal to the house of Hanover, not from a vain preference of one family to another, but from a conviction that the establishment of that family was necessary to the support of their civil and religious liberties. This, sir, is a principle of allegiance equally sol- id and rational, fit for Englishmen to adopt, and well worthy of your Majesty's encouragement. We can not long be deluded by national distinc- tions. The name of Stuart, of itself, is only con- temptible ; armed wath the sovereign authority, their principles were formidable. The Prince, who imitates their conduct, should be warned by their example; and while he plumes himself upon the security of his title to the crown, should remember that, as it was acquired by one revo- lution, it may be lost by another. Junius. This letter was published just before the Christmas holidays, and immediately after their close. Parliament commenced its session. Lord Chatham came out at once as leader of the Whigs, now united into one body, and within nineteen days the Duke of Grafton was com- pelled to resign. But Junius and his friend.s were bitterly disappointed. The King had, in- deed, the wisdom to remove the great source of contention by pardoning Wilkes ; but he clung to his Tory advisers ; he placed Lord North at the head of affairs, and for twelve years persist- ed in his favorite measures, and especially his resolution to force taxation on America, until he drove her out of the empire. Before leaving this letter, it will be proper to give a brief account of the celebrated trial to which it gave rise. Woodfall, the publisher, was prosecuted for a seditious libel, and brought before the Court of King's Bench on the 13th of June, 1 770. Lord Mansfield, in charging the jury, told them " that there were only two points for their consideration : the first, the printing and publishing of the paper in question ; the second, the sense and meaning of it. That as to the charges of its being malicious, seditious, &c., these were inferences of law. That, therefore, the printing and sense of the paper were alone wiiat the jury had to consider of ; and that, if the paper should really contain no breach of law, that was a matter which might afterward be moved in arrest of judgment." This put the prisoner completely in the power of the judges. The jury had no right to inquire into his motives or the real merits of the case. As the fact of publication was admitted, and the meaning of the words was clear, they must pronounce him gtiilty, although perfectly satisfied that he had spoken the truth, and had been governed by up- right intentions. This, certainly, made the trial by jury in cases of libel a mere farce. In the present instance, the jury got round the difficulty by bringing in a verdict, " Guilty of the printing and publishing ow/t/." The question now arose, " What is the legal effect of this finding ?" The Attorney General claimed that it was to be taken as a conviction ; the counsel of Woodfall, that it amounted to an acquittal. The case was argued at length, and the court decided for neither party. They set the verdict aside, and ordered a new trial. This, how^ever, was the same to Wood- fall as an acquittal ; for it w^as perfectly well known that no jury could ever be found in the city of London to return a verdict against the publisher. The matter was therefore dropped, and Junius came off victorious. Much blame w^as thi'own upon Lord Mans- field for this decision. The subject was brought before the House of Lords by Lord Chatham, and Lord Mansfield said in reply, "His Lordship tells the House that doctrines no less new than dan- gerous have been inculcated in this court, and that, particularly in a charge which I delivered to the jury on Mr. Woodfall's trial, my direc- tions were contrary to law, repugnant to prac- tice, and injurious to the dearest liberties of the people. This is an alarming picture, my Lords; it is drawn with great parade, and colored to affect the passions amazingly. Unhappily, how- ever, for the painter, it wants the essential cir- cumstance of truth in the design, and must, like 200 JUNIUS many other political pictures, be thrown, not- withstanding the reputation of the artist, among the miserable daubings of faction. So far, my Lords, is the accusation without truth, that the directions now given to juries are the same that they have ever been. There is no novelty intro- duced — no chicanery attempted ; nor has there, till very lately, been any complaint of the integ- rity of the King's Bench." The opinion of enlightened jurists at the pres- ent day, as to the merits of the case, is expressed by Lord Campbell in his Lives of the Chief Jus- tices, vol. ii., p. 480. " Lord Mansfield, in the course of these tri- als, had done nothing to incur moral blame. I think his doctrine — that the jury were only to find the fact of publication and the innucndos — contrary to law as well as liberty. His grand argument for making the question of ' libel or not' exclusively one of law, that the defendant may demur or move in arrest of judgment, and so refer it to the court, admits of the easy an- swer, that, although there may be a writing set out in the information as libelous which it could under no circumstances be criminal to publish, yet that an information may set out a paper the publication of which may or may not be crim- inal, according to the intention of the defendant and the circumstances under which it is pub- lished. Therefore, supposing judges to be ever so pure, upright, and intelligent, justice could not be done by leaving to them the criminality or innocence of the paper alleged to be libelous, as a mere abstract question of law, to be decided by reading the i-eeord. Nevertheless, there were various authorities for the rule which Lord Mans- field had laid down ; and, in laying it down, he not only followed the example of his immediate predecessors, but he was supported by the unan- imous opinion of his brethren who sat by him. There was no pretense for representing him as a daring innovator, who, slavishly wishing to please the government, tried to subvert trial by jury, and to extinguish the liberty of the press." Junius, as might be expected, attacked Lord Mansfield soon after in the most vehement terms. If he had confined himself to the legal question and the rights of juries, no one could have con- demned him for using strong language ; but he followed his ordinary method of assailing char- acter and motives. He revived the exploded story of Mansfield's having drunk the Pretend- er's health on his knees. He tortured him by the most cruel insinuations. But he overshot his mark, and fell into the grossest errors, espe- cially in his grand controversy about the right of Lord Mansfield to bail a man named Eyre, in which, as Lord Campbell remarks, "Junius was egregiously in the wrong, clearly showing that he was not a lawyer, his mistakes not being de- signedly made for disguise, but palpably proceed- ing from an ignorant man affecting knowledge." —Ibid., p. 402. The trial of Woodfall was ultimately product- ive of good. It roused the public mind to the rights of juries. A similar case came up in 1 784, when the Dean of St. Asaph was tried for a libel ; and at this time Mr. Erskine made his celebrated argument on the subject, which prepared the way for an act of Pai'liament, declaring the right of juries to decide on the law as well as the facts in cases of libel. LETTER TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.i My Lord, — If I were personally your enemy, i I might pity and forgive you. You have every j claim to compassion that can arise from misery I and di-stress. The condition you are reduced to 1 would disarm a private enemy of his resentment, i and leave no consolation to the most vindictive ' spirit, but that such an object as you are would disgrace the dignity of revenge. But, in the re- i lation you have borne to this country, you have 1 Dated February 14th, 1770. This Letter must ! have been commenced within a week after the res- i ignation of the Duke of Grafton. It is Junius' first i shout of triumph over the fall of his adversary. He ■ evidently regarded Lord North's ministry as a mere i modification of the Bedford party ; and, as he always unden-ated his talents, he now treats him, at the close of this Letter, with great contem[)t, expressing (what he undoubtedly felt) a firm conviction that the whole concern must soon fall to pieces, and the Whigs be ! called into office. This is one of the most finished productions of Ju- nius. It has more eloquence than the Letter to the King, and would deserve our unqualified admiration, if it were as just as it is elo(iuent. no title to indulgence ; and, if I had followed the dictates of my own opinion, I never should have allowed 3'ou the respite of a moment. In your public character, you have injured every subject of the empire ; and, though an individual is not authorized to forgive the injuries done to society, he is called upon to a.ssert his separate share in the public resentment. I submitted, however, to the judgment of men, more moder- ate, perhaps more candid than myself. For my own part, I do not pretend to understand those prudent forms of decorum, those gentle rules of discretion, which some men endeavor to unite with the conduct of the greatest and most haz- ardous affairs. Engaged in the defense of an honorable cause, I would take a decisive part. I should scorn to provide for a future retreat, or to keep terms with a man who preserves no measures with the public. Neither the abject submission of deserting his post in the hour of danger, nor even the sacred shield of cowardice,^ 2 Sacro tremnerc timore. Every coward pretends to be planet-struck. TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 201 should protect him. I would pursue him thi'ough life, and try the last exertion of my abilities to pre- serve the perishable infamy of his name, and make it immortal. What then, my Lord, is this the event of all the sacrifices you have made to Lord Bute's pat- ronage, and to your own unfortunate ambition ? Was it for this you abandoned your earliest friend- ships — the warmest connections of your youth, and all those honorable engagements, by which you once solicited, and might have acquii'ed, the esteem of your country ? Have you secured no recompense for such a waste of honor ? Un- happy man ! What party will receive the com- mon deserter of all parties ? Without a client to flatter, without a friend to console you, and with only one companion from the honest house of Bloomsbury, you must now retire into a dread- ful solitude, [which you have created for your- self].^ At the most active period of life, you must quit the busy scene, and conceal yourself from the world, if you would hope to save the wretched remains of a ruined reputation. The vices never fail of their effect. They operate like age — bring on dishonor before its time, and, in the prime of youth, leave the character broken and exhausted. Yet your conduct has been mysterious as well as contemptible. Where is now that firmness, or obstinacy, so long boasted of by your friends, and acknowledged by your enemies ? We were taught to expect that you would not leave the ruin of this country to be completed by other hands, but were determined either to gain a de- cisive victory over the Constitution, or to perish, bravely at least, in the last dike of the preroga- tive. You knew the danger, and might have been provided for it. You took sufficient time to prepare for a meeting with your Parliament, to confirm the mercenary fidelity of your de- pendents, and to suggest to your Sovereign a language suited to his dignity, at least, if not to his benevolence and wisdom. Yet, while the whole kingdom was agitated with anxious ex- pectation upon one great point, you meanly evaded the question, and, instead of the explicit firmness and decision of a King, you gave us nothing but the misery of a ruined grazier,^ and ^ The words in brackets were contained in the Letter as it originally appeared in the Public Ad- vertiser, but were struck out by Junius in his re- vised edition. As they add an important idea, and give the period an easier cadence, it may be doubt- ed whether the author did wisely to omit them. It is unnecessary to remark on the animated flow and condensed energy of this paragraph. An able critic has said, in rather strong terms, " No language, an- cient or modern, can afford a specimen of impressive eloquence superior to this." * The King's speech, which was drawn up by the Duke of Grafton for the opening of this session, went by the name of the "horned-cattle speech," because it commenced with referring to a prevalent distem- per among the horned cattle of the kingdom, as a matter of great importance, requiring the attention of Parliament. This created universal merriment; and Junius could not deny himself the pleasure of the whining piety of a Methodist. Wc had rea- son to expect that notice would have been taken of the petitions which the King has received from the English nation; and, although I can conceive some personal motives for not yielding to them, I can find none, in common prudence or decency, for treating them with contempt. Be assured, my Lord, the English people will not tamely submit to this unworthy treatment. They had a right to be heard ; and their petitions, if not granted, deserved to be considered. Whatever be the real views and doctrine of a court, the Sovereign should be taught to presei've some forms of attention to his subjects, and, if he will not redress their grievances, not to make them a topic of jest and mockery among the lords and ladies of the bedchamber. Injuries may be atoned for and forgiven ; but insults admit of no compensation. They degrade the mind in its own esteem, and force it to recover its level by revenge. This neglect of the petitions was, how- ever, a part of your original plan of government; nor will any consequences it has produced ac- count for your deserting your Sovereign in the midst of that distress in which you and your new friends [the Bedfords] had involved him. One would think, my Lord, you might have taken this spirited resolution before you had dissolved the last of those early connections which once, even in your own opinion, did honor to your youth — before you had obliged Lord Granby to quit a service he was attached to — before you had discarded one Chancellor and killed another.^ throwing it in the teeth of the Duke, especially as the petitions and remonstrances of London, West- minster, Surrey, York, and other parts of the king- dom, respecting the most urgent political concerns, were passed over in silence, and thus treated with contempt. ^ Lord Granby had resigned his office as Com- mander-in-chief about a month before, affirming that he had been wholly misled under the administration of the Duke of Grafton as to the affair of Wilkes, and declaring that he considered his vote on that subject as the greatest misfortune of his life. When Lord Camden was discarded and compelled to resign, for saying in Parliament that he had long disapproved the measures of the cabinet, but had been unable to resist them, the King found it diffi- cult to induce any one to accept the office of Lord Chancellor. He applied to Mr. Charles Yorke, son of the celebrated Lord Hardwicke, but could not prevail with him, because an acceptance would have been a virtual abandonment of his principles. After trying in other quarters, the King again re- quested a private interview with Mr. Yorke, and made such a[)peals to him (it is believed) as no mon- arch ought ever to address to a subject, declaring that, if he would only accept the seals, "an admin- istration might soon be formed which the nation would entirely approve." Mr. Yorke was at length overpowered ; he sunk on his knees in token of submission ; and the King gave him his hand to kiss, saluting him as Lord Ch.ancellor of England, Mr. Yorke instantly repaired to the house of bis brother. Lord Hardwicke, to explain the step he had taken, and, to his great surprise, found Lord Rockingham, and the other leaders of Opposition, there, concerting with his brother the best means 202 JUNIUS To whal an abject condition have 3'ou labored to reduce the best of princes, when the unhappy man, who yields at last to such personal instance and solicitation as never can be fairly employed against a subject, feels himself degraded by his compliance, and is unable to survive the dis- graceful honors which his gracious Sovereign had compelled him to accept. He was a man of spirit, for he had a quick sense of shame, and death has redeemed his character. I know your Grace too well to appeal to your feelings upon this event ; but there is another heart, not yet, I hope, quite callous to the touch of humanity, to which it ought to be a dreadful lesson forever. Now, my Lord, let us consider the situation to which you have conducted, and in which you have thought it advisable to abandon your royal master. Whenever the people have complained, and nothing better could be said in defense of the measures of government, it has been the fashion to answer us, though not very fairly, with an appeal to the private virtues of your sovereign. " Has he not, to relieve the people, surrendered a considerable part of his revenue ? Has he not made the judges independent by fixing them in their places for life ?" My Lord, we acknowl- edge the gracious principle which gave birth to these concessions, and have nothing to regret but that it has never been adhered to. At the end of seven years, we are loaded with a debt of above five hundred thousand pounds upon the civil list, and we now see the Chancellor of Great Britain tyrannically forced out of his of- fice, not for want of abilities, not for want of in- tegrity, or of attention to his duty, but for deliv- ering his honest opinion in Parliament upon the greatest constitutional question that has arisen since the Revolution. We care not to whose private virtues you appeal ; the theory of such a government is falsehood and mockery ; the practice is oppression. You have labored, then {though I confess to no purpose), to rob your master of the only plausible answer that ever was given in defense of his government — of the opinion which the people have conceived of his personal honor and integrity. The Duke of Bed- ford was more moderate than your Grace. He only forced his master to violate a solemn prom- ise made to an individual [Mr. Stuart Mackenzie]. But you, my Lord, have successfully extended your advice to every political, every moral en- gagement that could bind either the magistrate or the man. The condition of a King is often miserable ; but it required your Grace's abilities of carrying on their attack upon the government. When he told his story, they all turned upon him with a burst of indignation, and reproached him as guilty of a flagrant breach of honor. He returned to his house overwhelmed with grief, and within two days his death was announced. There w^as a general suspicion of suicide, and it has never yet been made certain that he died a natural death. Well might Junius say, in reference to the King, "There is another heart not yet, I hope, quite cal- lous to the touch of humanity, to which it ought to be a dreadful lesson forever." to make it contemptible. You will say, perhaps, that the faithful servants in whose hands you have left him are able to retrieve his honor and to support his government. You have publicly declared, even since your resignation, that you approved of their measures and admired their conduct, particularly that of the Earl of Sand- wich.^ What a pity it is that, with all this ap- pearance, you should think it necessary to sep- arate yourself from such amiable companions ! You forget, m}'^ Lord, that while you are lavish in the praise of men whom you desert, you are publicly opposing your conduct to your opinions, and depriving yourself of the only plausible pre- tense you had for leaving your sovereign over- whelmed with distress — I call it plausible, for, in truth, there is no reason whatsoever, less than the frowns of your master, that could justify a man of spirit for abandoning his post at a mo- ment so critical and important ! It is in vain to evade the question. If you wull not speak out, the public have a right to judge from appearan- ces. We are authorized to conclude that you either difl^ered from j^our colleagues, whose meas- ures you still affect to defend, or that you thought the administration of the King's afTairs no longer tenable. You are at liberty to choose between the hypocrite and the coward. Your best friends are in doubt w^hich way they shall incline. Your country unites the characters, and gives you cred- it for them both. For my own part, I see noth- ing inconsistent in your conduct. You began with betraying the people — you conclude w^ith betraying the King. In your treatment of particular persons, you have preserved the uniformity of your character. Even Mr. Bradshaw declares that no man was ever so ill used as himself. As to the provision you have made for his family, he was entitled to it by the house he lives in.''' The successor of one chancellor might well pretend to be the rival of another. It is the breach of private friend- ship which touches Mr. Bradshaw ; and, to say the truth, when a man of his rank and abilities had taken so active a part in your affairs, he ought not to have been let down at last with a miserable pension of fifteen hundred pounds a *" This nobleman was notoriously profligate in his life. Such was the case also, to a great extent, with Gower, R.igby, and all the Bedford men in the Duke of Grafton's ministry. '' Mr. Bradshaw, a dependent of the Duke of Graf- ton, received a pension of £1500 a year for his own life and the lives of all his sons, while Sir Edward Hawke, who had saved the state, received what was actually worth a less sum. Junius, alluding to Bradshaw's complaints, sneeringly says that he was certainly entitled to a large pension on account of "the house he lives in," referring to a fact which occasioned considerable speculation, viz., that Brad- shaw had just taken a very costly residence, pre- viously occupied by Lord Chancellor Northington. The whole passage is obviously a sneering one, though Heron takes it seriously, and then repre- sents Junius as inconsistent with himself, because he alludes, in a note, to the largeness of Bradshaw's pension as compared with Admiral Hawke's. TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 203 year. Colonel Luttiell, Mr. Onslow, and IMr. Burgoyne were equally engaged with you, and have rather more reason to complain than Mr. Bradshaw. These are men, my Lord, whose friendship you should have adhered to on the same principle on which you deserted Lord Rockingham, Lord Chatham, Lord Camden, and the Duke of Portland. We can easily account for your violating your engagements with men of honor, but why should you betray your natural connections ? Why separate yourself from Lord Sandwich, Lord Gower, and Mr. Rigby, or leave the three worthy gentlemen above mentioned to shift for themselves ? With all the fashionable indulgence of the times, this country does not abound in characters like theirs ; and you may find it a dilTicult matter to recruit the black cat- alogue of your friends. The recollection of the royal patent you sold to Mr. Hine obliges me to say a word in defense of a man [Mr. Vaughan] whom you have taken the most dishonorable means to injure.^ I do not refer to the sham prosecution which you af- fected to carry on against him. On that ground, I doubt not he is prepared to meet you with ten- 8 This alludes to the patent of an office granted for the benefit of Mr. Burgoyne, who, with the Duke of Grafton's pei'mission, sold out the annual income for a gross sum to a person named Hine. The pros- ecution mentioned in the next sentence is thus spo- ken of by Woodfall, in his Junius, vol. i., 322 : " Mr. Samuel Vaughan was a merchant in the city, of hith- erto unblemished character, and strongly attached to the popular cause. The office he attempted to procure had at times been previously disposed offer a pecuniary consideration, and had, on one particu- lar occasion, been sold by an order of a Court of Chancery, and consisted in the reversion of the clerkship to the Supreme Court in the island of Ja- maica. A Mr. Howell was, in fact, at this very time in treaty with the patentee for the purchase of his resignation, which clearly disproved any criminal in- tention in Mr. Vaughan. He was, however, pros- ecuted, obviously from political motives, but the prosecution was dropped after the aftair of Hine's patent was brought before the public." Mr. Heron states, however, that " the office itself had never been directly or avowedly sold by the Crown, though the life-interest had been, under a decree of Chance- ry." It is not surprising (if this were so) that Mr. Vaughan, not being a professional man, should have failed to discern the difference. His application, therefore, may have been made without any crim- inal intention. To prosecute in such a case does seem a very severe measure ; and, as the prosecu- tion was dropped from this time, it would seem that the Duke himself considered it a bad business. It may be added, that Sir Dennis Le Marchant, in bis edition of Walpole's Memoirs of George III., says, "Junius's account of the prosecution [of Vaughan] is fair — making, the usual deductions." Walpole censures the prosecution as foolish. As to Hine's patent, he says, "It was proved that he [the Duke] had bestowed on Colonel Burgoyne a place, which the latter vax to sell to reimburse him- self for the expenses of his election at Preston." — Vol. iii., 400. This was the statement made by Ju- nius ; and it is not, therefore, wonderful that, after the exposure of such a transaction, the Duke thought best to say as little as possible about Mr. Vaughan, fold recrimination, and to set you at defiance. The injury you have done him affects his moral character. You knew that the offer to purchase the reversion of a place which has hitherto been sold under a decree of the Court of Chancery, however imprudent in his situation, would no way tend to cover him with that sort of guilt which you wished to fix upon him in the eyes of the world. You labored then, by every spe- cies of false suggestion, and even by publishing counterfeit letters, to have it understood that he had proposed terms of accommodation to you, and had offered to abandon his principles, his party, and his friends. You consulted your own breast for a character of consummate treachery, and gave it to the public for that of Mr. Vaughan. I think myself obliged to do this justice to an in- jured man, because I was deceived by the ap- pearances thrown out by your Grace, and have frequently spoken of his conduct with indigna- tion. If he really be, what I think him, honest, though mistaken, he will be happy in recovering his reputation, though at the expense of his un- derstanding. Here, I .see, the matter is likely to rest. Your Grace is afraid to carry on the prosecution. Mr. Hine keeps quiet possession of his purchase ; and Governor Burgoyne, re- lieved from the apprehension of refunding the money, sits down, for the remainder of his life, INFAMOUS and contented. I believe, my Lord, I may now take my leave of you forever. You are no longer that resolute minister who had spirit to support the most vio- lent measures ; who compensated for the want of good and great qualities by a brave determin- ation (which some people admired and relied on) to maintain himself without them. The reputa- tion of obstinacy and perseverance might have supplied the place of all the absent virtues. You have now added the last negative to your char- acter, and meanly confessed that you are desti- tute of the common spirit of a man. Retire then, my Lord, and hide your blushes from the world ; for, with such a load of shame, even BLACK may change its color. A mind .such as yours, in the solitary hours of domestic enjoy- ment, may still find topics of consolation. You may find it in the memory of violated friend- ship, in the afflictions of an accomplished prince, whom you have disgraced and deserted, and in the agitations of a great country, driven by your councils to the brink of destruction. The palm of ministerial firmness is now trans- ferred to Lord North. He tells us so himself, with the plenitude of the ore rotnndo f and I am ready enough to believe that, while he can keep his place, he will not easily be persuaded to re- sign it. Your Grace was the firm minister of yesterday : Lord North is the firm minister of to-day. To-morrow, perhaps, his Majesty, in his wisdom, may give us a rival for you both. ' Note by Junius. " This eloiiucnt person has got as far as the r7?.sa/>//«e of Demosthenes. He constant- ly speaks with pebbles in his mouth, to improve his articulation." — This refers to a peculiarity of Lord North, whose " tongue was too large for his mouth." 204 ESTIMATES OF JUNIUS. You are too well acquainted with the temper of your late allies to think it possible that Lord North should be permitted to govern this coun- try. If we may believe common fame, they have shown him their superiority already. His Majesty is indeed too gracious to insult his sub- jects by choosing his first minister from among the domestics of the Duke of Bedford. That would have been too gross an outrage to the three kingdoms. Their purpose, however, is equally answered by pushing forward this un- happy figure, and forcing it to bear the odium of measures which they in reality direct. With- out immediately appearing to govern, they pos- sess the power, and distribute the emoluments of government as they think proper. They still adhere to the spirit of that calculation which made M\\ Luttrell representative of Middlesex. Far from regretting your retreat, they assure us very gravely that it increases the real strength of the ministry. According to this way of rea- soning, they will probably grow stronger, and more flourishing, every hour they exist ; for I think there is hardly a day passes in which some one or other of his Majesty's servants does not leave them to improve by the loss of his assist- ance. But, alas ! their countenances speak a different language. When the members drop off, the main body can not be insensible of its approaching dissolution. Even the violence of their proceedings is a signal of despair. Like broken tenants, who have had warning to quit the premises, they curse their landlord, destroy the fixtures, throw every thing into confusion, and care not what mischief they do to the estate. Junius. The character of the Duke of Grafton, as given by Horace Walpole in his Memoirs of George III., accords in most respects with the represent- ations of Junius. " His fall from power was universally ascribed to his pusillanimity ; but whether betrayed by his fears or his friends, he had certainly been the chief author of his own disgrace. His haughtiness, indolence, reserve, and improvidence, had conjured up the storm ; but his obstinacy and fickleness always relaying each other, and always mal a propos^ were the radical causes of the numerous absurdities that discolored his conduct and exposed him to de- served reproaches — nor had he a depth of un- derstanding to counterbalance the defects of his temper." — Vol. iv., 69. His love of the turf brought him into habits of intimacy with low and unprincipled men, whose wants he was com- pelled to supply, and whose characters often re- flected dishonor upon his own. His immorali- ties, though public, appeared less disgraceful at that day, when the standard of sentiment on this subject was extremely low ; and in this respect he was so far outdone by Lord Sandwich and others of "the Bloomsbury gang," with whom he was connected, that his vices were thrown comparatively into the shade. It ought to be stated, in justice to the Duke of Grafton, that he entered very early into public life, when his judg- ment was immature, and his strength of purpose unequal to the control of his passions. He was only thirty-four years old when he was driven from power. During a long life which followed, he retrieved his character. He showed himself, as Sir Dennis Le Marchant states, to be " by no means the insignificant or worthless personage that he appears in the pages of Walpole and Junius. A genuine love of peace, and hatred of oppression, either civil or religious, marked his whole political life ; and great as were the er- rors which Walpole and Junius have justly de- nounced in his private conduct, it is only just to sa)', that from the date of these Memoirs [1771] to his death, which comprises a period of near foi-ty years, there were few individuals more highly and more generally esteemed." — Note to Walpole's Memoirs of George III., vol. iv., p. 73. In leaving Junius, the reader will be gratified to see the following estimates of his character and writings from the two most distinguished literary men of that day, Mr. Burke, a Whig, and Dr. Johnson, a Tory. EsToiATE OF Junius, by Mr. Burke. ^ How comes this Junius to have broke through the cobwebs of the law, and to range uncontrol- led, unpunished through the land ? The myr- midons of the Court have been long, and are still, pursuing him in vain. They will not spend their time upon me, or you, or you. No ; they disdain such vermin, when the mighty boar of the forest, that has broken throuirh all their toils, is before them. But what will all their efforts avail ? No sooner has he wounded one than he lays another dead at his feet. For my part, when I saw his attack upon the King. I own my blood ran cold. I thought tharhe had ventured too far, and there was an end of his triumphs. Not that he had not asserted many truths. Yes, sir, there are in that composition many bold truths, by which a wise prince might profit. It was the rancor and venom with which I was struck. In these respects the North Briton is as much inferior to him, as in strength, wit, and judgment. But while I expected in this daring flight his final ruin and fall, behold him rising still higher, and coming down souse upon both houses of Parliament. Yes, he did make you his quarry, and you still bleed from the wounds of his talons. You crouched, and still crouch, be- neath his rage. Nor has he dreaded the terrors of your brow, sir f he has attacked even you — he has — and I believe you have no reason to triumph in the encounter. In short, after carry- ing away our Royal Eagle in his pounces, and dashing him against a rock, he has laid you pros- trate. Kings, Lords, and Commons are but the sport of his fury. Were he a member of this House, what might not be expected from his ' From a speech delivered in the House of Com- mons. 2 Sir Fletcher Norton, Speaker of the House, was distinguished for the largeness of his overhanging eyebrows. ESTIMATES OF JUNIUS. 205 knowledge, his firmness, and integrity ? He would be easily known by his contempt of all danger, by his penetration, by his vigor. Noth- ing would escape his vigilance and activity. Bad ministers could conceal nothing from his sagaci- ty ; nor could promises nor threats induce him to conceal any thing from the public. Estimate of Junius, by Dr. Johnson. '^ This thirst of blood, however the visible pro- moters of sedition may think it convenient to shrink from the accusation, is loudly avowed by Junius, the writer to whom his party owes much of its pride, and some of its popularity. Of Ju- nius it can not be said, as of Ulysses, that he scatters ambiguous expressions among the vul- gar ]* for he cries havoc without reserve, and en- deavors to let slip the dogs of foreign and of civil war, ignorant whither they are going, and careless what may be their prey.^ Junius has sometimes made his satire felt ; but let not in- judicious admiration mistake the venom of the shaft for the vigor of the blow. He has some- times sported with lucky malice ; but to him that know^s his company, it is not hard to be sar- castic in a mask. While he walks like Jack the Giant Killer in a coat of darkness, he may do much mischief with little strength. Novelty captivates the superficial and thoughtless ; ve- hemence delights the discontented and turbulent. /^He that contradicts acknowledged truth will al- ways have an audience ; he that vilifies estab- lished authority will always find abettors. " Junius burst into notice with a blaze of im- pudence which has rarely glared upon the world before, and drew the rabble after him as a mon- ster makes a show. When he had once pro- vided for his safety by impenetrable secrecy, he had nothing to combat but truth and justice, en- emies whom he know^s to be feeble in the dark. Being then at liberty to indulge himself in all the immunities of invisibility — out of the reach of danger, he has been bold ; out of the reach of shame, he has been confident. As a rhetorician, 3 From a pamphlet on the seizure of the Falk- land Islands, published in 1771. * Hinc semper Ulj'sses Crirninibus terrere novis ; hinc spargere voces lu valgum ambiguas. — Virgil, yEneid, ii., 97. ^ And Cesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side, come hot from hell. Shall iu these confines, with a monarch's voice. Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war. Shakspeare's Julius Cesar, Act iii., Sc. ii. he has the art of persuading when he seconded desire ; as a reasoner, he has convinced those who had no doubt before ; as a moralist, he has taught that virtue may disgrace ; and as a pa- triot, he has gratified the mean by insults on the high. Finding sedition ascendant, he has been able to advance it ; finding the nation combusti- ble, he has been able to inflame it. Let us ab- stract from his wit the vivacity of insolence, and withdraw from his efficacy the .sympathetic favor of plebeian malignity ; I do not say that we shall leave him nothing ; the cause that I defend scorns the help of falsehood ; but if we leave him only his merit, what will be his praise ? It is not by his liveliness of imagery, his pun- gency of periods, or his fertility of allusion, that he detains the cits of London and the boors of Middlesex. Of style and sentiment they take no cognizance. They admire him for virtues like their own, for contempt of order and violence of outrage, for rage of defamation and audacity of falsehood. The supporters of the Bill of Rights feel no niceties of composition nor dex- terities of sophistry; their faculties are better proportioned to the bawl of Bellas or barbarity of Beckford ; but they are told that Junius is on their side, and they are therefore sure that Ju- nius is infallible. Those who know not whither he would lead them, resolve to follow him ; and those who can not find his meaning, hope he means rebellion. Junius is an unusual phenomena, on which some have gazed with wonder, and some with terror ; but wonder and terror are transitory pas- sions. He \\'\\\ soon be more closely viewed or more attentively examined, and what folly has taken for a comet, that from its flaming hair shook pestilence and war, inquiry will find to be only a meteor formed by the vapors of putref}'- ing democracy, and kindled into flame by the effervescence of interest struggling with convic- tion, which, after having plunged its followers in a bog, will leave us inquiring why we regard- ed it. Yet, though I can not think the style of Ju- nius secure from criticism — though his expres- sions are often trite, and his periods feeble — I should never have stationed him where ho has placed himself, had I not rated him by his mor- als rather than his faculties. " What,"' says Pope. " must be the priest, where the monkey is a god ?" What must be the drudge of a party, of which the heads are Wilkes and Crosby, Saw- bridge and Townsend ? .^ EDMUND BURKE. Edmund Burke was the son of a respectable barrister in Dublin, and was born in that city on the first day of January, 1730. Being of a delicate and consumptive habit, he was unable to share in the ordinary sports of childhood ; and was thus led to find his earliest enjoyment in reading and thought. When eleven years old, he was sent to a school at Ballitore, about twenty miles from Dublin, under the care of a duaker named Shackleton, who was distinguished, not only for the accuracy of his scholarship, but for his extraordinary power of draw- ing forth the talents of his pupils, and giving a right direction to their moral princi- ples. Mr. Burke uniformly spoke of his instructor in after life with the warmest af- fection, and rarely failed, during forty years, whenever he went to Ireland, to pay him a visit. He once alluded to him in the House of Commons, in the following terms : "I was educated," said he, " as a Protestant of the Church of England, by a Dis- senter who was an honor to his sect, though that sect has ever been considered as one of the purest. Under his eye, I read the Bible, morning, noon, and night ; and have ever since been a happier and better man for such reading." Under these influences, the development of his intellect and of his better feelings was steady and rapid. He formed those habits of industry and perseverance, which were the most striking traits in his character, and which led him to say in after life, " Nitor in adversu'tn, is the motto for a man like me." He learned that simplicity and frankness, that bold as- sertion of moral principle, that reverence for the Word of God, and the habit of going freely to its pages for imagery and illustration, by which he was equally distinguished as a man and an orator. At this period, too, he began to exhibit his extraordinary powers of memory. In every task or exercise dependent on this faculty, he easily out- stripped all his competitors ; and it is not improbable that he gained, under his early (iuaker discipline, those habits of systematic thought, and that admirable arrange- ment of all his acquired knowledge, which made his memory one vast storehouse of facts, principles, and illustrations, ready for use at a moment's call. At this early pe- riod, too, the imaginative cast of his mind was strongly developed. He delighted above all things in works of fancy. The old romances, such as Palmerin of England and Don Belianis of Greece, were his favorite study ; and we can hardly doubt, con- sidering the peculiar susceptibility of his mind, that such reading had a powerful in- fluence in producing that gorgeousness of style which characterized so many of his pro- ductions in after life. Quitting school at the end of three years, he became a member of Trinity College, Dublin, in 1744. Here he remained six years, engaged chiefly in a course of study of his own, though not to the neglect of his regular college duties. It was said by Gold- smith, perhaps to excuse his own indolence, that Burke's scholarship at college was low. This could not have been the case ; for in his third year he was elected Scholar of the House, which, his biographer assures us, "confers distinction in the classics throughout life." Still, he gave no peculiar promise of his future eminence. Leland, the translator of Demosthenes, who was then a fellow, used to say, that "he was known as a young man of superior but unpretending talents, and more anxious to ac- quire knowledge than to display it." That his college life was one of severe study, is evident from the extent and accuracy of his knowledge when he left the University. EDMUND BURKE. 207 A few things have come down to us, as to his course of reading. lie had mastered most of the great writers of antiquity. Demosthenes was his favorite orator, though he was led in after life, by the bent of his genius, to form himself on the model of Cicero, whom he more resembled in magnificencfe and copiousness of thought. He delight- ed in Plutarch. He read most of the great poets of antiquity ; and was peculiarly fond of Virgil, Horace, and Lucretius, a large part of whose writings he committed to memory.^ In English he read the essays of Lord Bacon again and again with in- creasing admiration, and pronounced them " the greatest works of that great man." Shakspeare was his daily study. But his highest reverence was reserved for Milton, " whose richness of language, boundless learning, and scriptural grandeur of concep- tion," were the first and last themes of his applause. The philosophical tendency of his mind began now to display itself with great distinctness, and became, from this period, the m.aster principle of his genius. " Rerum cognoscere causas,''' seems ever to have been his delight, and soon became the object of all his studies and reflections. He had an exquisite sensibility to the beauties of nature, of art, and of elegant com- position, but he could never rest here. " Whence this enjoyment ?" " On what prin- ciple does it depend V " How might it be carried to a still higher point ?" — these are questions which seem almost from boyhood to have occurred instinctively to his mind. His attempts at philosophical criticism commenced in college, and led to his produc- ing one of the most beautiful works of this kind to be found in any language. In like manner, history to him, even at this early period, was not a mere chronicle of events, a picture of battles and sieges, or of life and manners : to make it liistory, it must bind events together by the causes which produced them. The science of politics and government was in his mind the science of man ; not a system of arbitrary reg- ulations, or a thing of policy and intrigue, but founded on a knowledge of those prin- ciples, feelings, and even prejudices, which unite a people together in one communi- ty — " ties," as he beautifully expresses it, " which, though light as air, are strong as links of iron." Such were the habits of thought to which his mind was tending even from his college days, and they made him pre-eminently the great Philosophical Orator of our language.'^ Being intended by his father for the bar, Mr. Burke was sent to London at the age of twenty, to pursue his studies at the Middle Temple. But he was never interested in the law. He saw enough of it to convince him that it is " one of the first and no- blest of human sciences — a science which does more to quicken and invigorate the understanding, than all other kinds of learning put together." Still, it was too dry and technical for a mind like his ; and he felt, that, " except in persons very happily born, it was not apt to open and liberalize the mind in the same proportion." He therefore soon gave himself up, with all the warmth of his early attachment, to the pursuits of literature and philosophy. His diligence in study was now carried to its 1 Notwithstanding the extent of his reading in the classics, Mr. Burke (like many Irish scholars) paid but little attention to the subject of quantity, and a blunder in this respect, which was charged upon him in the House of Commons, gave rise to one of his happiest retorts. In attacking Lord North for being in want of still larger supplies, in the iBidst of the most lavish expenditure, he quoted the words of Cicero, " Magnum vectigal est parsimouia," accenting the word vcctigal on the first syllable. Lord North cried out in a contemptuous tone from the Treasuiy Beach, vcctigal, vectigal. Mr. Burke instantly replied, "I thank the right honorable gentleman for his correction; and, that he may enjoy the benefit of it, I repeat the w^ords, Magnum vectigal est parsimonia." 2 These early tendencies of Mr. Burke's genius explain a fact which has been spoken of with surprise by all his biographers; namely, that he preferred the ^neid of Virgil to the Iliad of Ho- mer, though he admitted, at the same time, the superiority of the latter in invention, force, and sub- limity. To a mind like his, so full of sentiment and philosophy, there is something more delightful in the description of the world of spirits, in the sixth book of the .^neid, and the almost Christian anticipations of the Pollio, than in all the battle scenes of Homer. His extravagant attachment to Young's Night Thoughts, in early hfe, may be accounted for in the same way. 208 EDMUND BURKE. highest point. He devoted every moment to severe labor ; spending his evenings, however, in conversation with the ablest men engaged in the same employments, and thus varying, perhaps increasing, the demand for mental exertion. Few men ever studied to greater effect. He early acquired a power which belongs peculiarly to superior minds — that of thinking at all times and in every place, and not merely at stated seasons in the retirement of the closet. His mind seems never to have floated on the current of passing events. He was always tvorking out trains of thought. His reading, though wide and multifarious, appears from the first to have been perfectly digested. His views on every subject were formed into a complete sys- tem ; and his habits of daily discussing with others whatever he was revolving in his own mind, not only quickened his powers, but made him guarded in statement, and led him to contemplate every subject under a great variety of aspects. His ex- uberant fancy, which in most men would have been a fatal impediment to any attempt at speculation, was in him the ready servant of the intellect, supplying boundless stores of thought and illustration for every inquiry. Such were his habits of study from this period, during nearly fifty years, down to the time of his death. Once only, as he stated to a friend, did his mind ever appear to flag. At the age of forty-five, he felt weary of this incessant struggle of thought. He resolved to pause and rest satisfied with the knowledge he had gained. But a week's experience taught him the miser}-^ of being idle ; and he resumed his labors with the noble determination of the Greek philosopher, yrjpdaiceLV dcdaaKOf^svog, to grow old in learning. Gifted as he was with pre-eminent genius, it is not surprising that diligence like this, which would have raised even moderate abilities into talents of a high order, should have made him from early life an object of admiration to his friends, and have laid the foundation of that richness and amplitude of thought in which he far surpassed every modern orator. Being on a journey to Scotland in 1753, Mr. Burke learned that the office of Pro- fessor of Logic had become vacant in the University of Glasgow, and would be award- ed to the successful competitor at a public disputation. He at once offered himself as a candidate. Farther inquiries, however, showed that private arrangements in the city and University precluded all possibility of his being elected. He therefore withdrew from the contest ; and the name of Mr. James Clow has come down to pos- terity as the man who succeeded when Edmund Burke failed. Soon after his return from Scotland, the literary world was much excited by the publication of Lord Bolingbroke's philosophical works. Unwilling to incur the odium of so atrocious an attack on morals and religion, his Lordship had left his manuscripts, with a small legacy, in the hands of Mallet, to be published immediately after his death. This gave rise to Johnson's remark, that " Bolingbroke was a scoundrel and a coward — a scoundrel, for charging a blunderbuss against religion and morality ; and a coward, because he had not resolution to fire it himself, but left half a crown to a beggarly Scotchman to draw the trigger." Mr. Burke took this occasion to make his first appearance before the public. He wrote a pamphlet of one hundred and six pages, under the title of a Vindication of Natural Society, which came out in the spring of 1756, and had all the appearance of being a posthumous work of Bo- lingbroke. His object was to expose his Lordship's mode of reasoning, by running it out into its legitimate consequences. He therefore applied it to civil society. He undertook; in the person of Bolingbroke, and with the closest imitation of his impetu- ous and overbearing eloquence, to expose the crimes and Avretchedness which have prevailed under every form of government, and thus to show that society is itself an evil, and the savage state the only one favorable to virtue and happiness. Li this pamphlet he gave the most perfect specimen which the world has ever seen, of the urt of imitating the style and manner of another. He v.'ent beyond the mere choice EDMUND BURKE. 209 of words, the structure of sentences, and the cast of imagery, into the deepest recesses of thought ; and so completely had he imbued himself with the spirit of Bolingbroke, that he brought out precisely what every one sees his Lordship ought to have said on his own principles, and might be expected to say, if he dared to express his senti- ments. . The work, therefore, can hardly be called ironical, for irony takes care to make its object known, by pressing things, at times, into open extravagance. But such was tile closeness of the imitation, that Chesterfield and Warburton were for a while de- ceived, and even Mallet felt called upon to deny its authenticity. If he had made it professedly ironical, it would undoubtedly have taken better with the public. Every one would have enjoyed its keenness, had it come in the form of satire. But, as it was, some were vexed to find they had mistaken the author's meaning, and others re- garded it only as " a clever imitation." Thus it happened to Mr. Burke in his first appearance before the pubhc, as in some cases of greater importance in after life, that the very ability with which he executed his task, was for a time the reason of its be- ing less highly appreciated. If his Vindication of Natural Society was at first a fail- ure, his speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts was so little understood at the time of delivery, and heard with so much impatience by the House of Commons, that Mr. Pitt and Lord Grenville considered it as needing no reply I At the close of the same year, 1756, Mr. Burke published his celebrated treatise on the Sublime and Beautiful. This was the first attempt in our language to discuss the subject with philosophical accuracy and precision. Addison had, indeed, written a series of papers on the Pleasures of the Imagination ; but his object was rather to exemplify and illustrate, than to trace those pleasures to any specific source. Mr. Burke boldly propounded a theory designed to account, upon a few simple principles, for all the diversified enjoyments of taste. His treatise shows great ingenuity, sur- prising accuracy of observation, and an exquisite sense of the sublime and beautiful, both in the works of nature and art. Like all his writings, it abounds in rich trains of thought, and observations of great value in themselves, whatever we may think of his theory. It contains, also, many things which are purely fanciful, as when he traces the pleasures of taste to states of the bodily system ; and maintains that the sublime is connected with " an unnatural tension and certain violent motions of the nerves," while beauty acts " by relaxing the solids of the whole body !" These are some of the things which he learned to laugh at himself, in after life. His theory, as a whole, is rather defective than erroneous. It is one of those hasty generaliza- tions which we are always to expect in the first stages of a new science. The work, however, was an extraordinary production for a youth of twenty-six ; and in style and manner, was regarded by Johnson as " a model of philosophical criticism." With some few blemishes, such as we always look for in the writings of Burke, it has a clearness of statement, a purity of language, an ease and variety in the structure of sentences, and an admirable richness of imagery, which place it in the foremost rank of our elegant literature. Such a work, from one who had been hitherto unknown to the public, excited a general and lively interest. Its author was every Avhere greeted with applause. His acquaintance was sought by the most distinguished literary men and friends of learn- ing, such as Pulteney, Earl of Bath ; Markham, soon after Archbishop of York ; Lord Lyttleton, Soame Jenyns, Johnson, and many others. In such society, his remark- able talents for conversation secured his success. Every one was struck with the activity of his mind, the singular extent and variety of his knowledge, his glowing power of thought, and the force and beauty of his language. Even Johnson, whose acknowledged supremacy made him in most cases " Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne," was soon conciliated or subdued bv the conversational powers of Burke. It was a 210 EDMUND BURKE. striking spectacle to see one so proud and stubborn, who had for years been accus- tomed to give forth his dicta with the authority of an oracle, submit to contradiction from a youth of twenty-seven. But, though Johnson differed from Burke on politics, and occasionally on other subjects, he always did him justice. He spoke of him from the first in terms of the highest respect. " Burke," said he, " is an extraordinary man. His stream of talk is perpetual ; and he does not talk from any desire of distinction, but because his mind is full." " He is the 07ily man," said he, at a later period, when Burke was at the zenith of his reputation, " whose common conversation cor- responds with the general fame which he has in the world. Take him up where you please, he is ready to meet you." " No man of sense," he said, " could meet Burke by accident under a gateway to avoid a shower, without being convinced that he was the first man in England.' , A striking confirmation of this remark occurred some years after, when Mr. Burke was passing through Litchfield, the birth-place of John- son. Wishing to see the Cathedral during the change of horses, he stepped into the building, and was met by one of the clergy of the place, who kindly offered to point out the principal objects of curiosity. " A conversation ensued ; but, in a few moments, the clergyman's pride of local information was completely subdued by the copious and minute knowledge displayed by the stranger. Whatever topic the objects before them suggested, whether the theme was architecture or antiquities, some obscure passage in ecclesiastical history, or some question respecting the life of a saint, he touched it as with a sun-beam. His information appeared universal ; his mind, clear intellect, without one particle of ignorance. A few minutes after their separation, the clergyman was met hurrying through the street. ' I have had,' said he, ' quite an adventure. I have been conversing for this half hour past with a man of the most extraordinary powers of mind and extent of information which it has ever been my fortune to meet with ; and I am now going to the inn, to ascertain, if possible, who this stranger is.' " In 1757, Mr. Burke married a daughter of Dr. Nugent, of Bath, and took up liter- ature as a profession. The colonies upon the American coast being now an object of public interest, he prepared, during this year (perhaps in conjunction with his two brothers), a work in two octavo volumes, entitled an Account of the European Settle- ments of America. These labors, thus casually undertaken, had great influence in shaping his subsequent course as a statesman. He became deeply interested in the early history of the British colonies ; and was led naturally, by his habits of thought, to trace the character of their institutions to the spirit of their ancestors, and to fol- low out that spirit in the enterprise, perseverance, and indomitable love of liberty, which animated the whole body of the people. He saw, too, the boundless resources of the country, and the irrepressible strength to which it must soon attain. Thus was he prepared, when the troubles came on, ten years after, and Avhen there was hardly a man in England, except Lord Chatham, who had the least conception of the force and resolution of the colonies, to come forward with those rich stores of knowledge, and those fine trains of reasoning, conceived in the truest spirit of philosophy, which astonished and delighted, though they failed to convince, the Parliament of Great Britain. In the next year, 1758, Mr. Burke projected the Annual Register, a work of great utility, which has been continued for nearly a century, down to the present time. The plan was admirable, presenting for each year a succinct statement of the de- bates in Parliament ; a historical sketch of the principal occurrences in every part of the world connected with European politics ; and a view of the progress of liter- ature and science, with brief notices of the most important works published during the year. Such an undertaking required ail the resources and self-reliance of a man I vi; EDMUND BURKE. ' 211 like Burke, and would never have been commenced except by one of his extraordinary- vigor and enterprise. It was entirely successful. So great was the demand, that some of the early volumes were reprinted five or six times. At first, Mr. Burke pre- pared the entire volume for the vear, containing five or six hundred pages, with hard- ly any assistance. He finally confined himself to the debates and the historical sketches, which for quite a number of years were written by himself, and afterv\''ard by others under his direction and superintendence. No employment could have been suited more perfectly to train him for his subsequent duties as a statesm„an. His at- tendance on the debates in Parliament made him familiar with the rules of business. (Questions were continually arising in respect to trade, finance, the relations of other countries, or the past history of his own, which, to one of his ardent and inquisitive mind, would furnish unnumbered topics for study and reflection. His views were enlarged by the nature of his task, so as to embrace the entire range of European politics. His disposition to philosophize was hemmed in and directed by the great facts in politics and history, with which he had constantly to deal. The result was, that he became, in the strictest sense of the term, a j)ractical statesman, whose philosophy was that of man in the concrete, and as he exists in society ; so that no one had ever a greater contempt of abstract principles, or was more completely governed in his reasonings by the lessons of time and experience. Rarely has any work been of so much bene- fit, at once to its author and the public, as the Annual Register in its earlier volumes. Mr. Burke's first entrance on political life was in 1761. Lord Halifax, being ap- pointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, took with him William Gerard Hamilton (com- monly called single-speech Hamilton) as Principal Secretary of State.^ Hamilton, from the nature of his office, was the acting minister for Ireland, and needed the as- sistance of some able adviser who was well acquainted with the country. He there- fore induced Mr. Burke to accompany him in this character, under the title of private secretaiy. Halifax was highly successful in his administration, showing great dexter- ity in disarming or neutralizing the various factions into which Ireland was divided. How far he was indebted for this success to the counsels of Mr. Burke, it is impossible to say, since the principal secretary would, of course, have the credit of every sugges- tion which came from that quarter. One thing, however, is certain ; Hamilton per- fectly understood the value of Mr. Burke's services. He obtained for him a pension of X300 on the Irish establishment ; and after the secretaryship expired, and both had returned to England, in 1763, he actually endeavored to make this pension the means of attaching Mr. Burke to him for life, as a coadjutor and humble dependent. " It was," said Mr. Burke, in a letter on the subject, " an insolent and intolerable demand, amounting to no less than a claim of servitude during the whole course of my life, without leaving me at any time a power either of getting forward with honor, or of retiring with tranquillity." Such a demand was of course met with an indignant re- 3 Hamilton gained this title in the following manner. When Newcastle's administration was suffering from Lord Chatham's tremendous attacks in 175.5, Hamilton (who voted with the minis- try), finding their cause in extreme danger one evening, suddenly arose, though he had never spok- en in the House before, and poured forth a speech of sui-prising cogency of argument and fervor of emotion, with all the ease and self-command of a practiced orator. Every one expected that he ■would take his place at once among the leading debaters of the day. But, excepting a few words on the same subject soon after, he never made a speech of any length in the British Parliament, though he w^as a member for thirty years ; nor did he speak elsewhere, except twice or three times, when compelled to do so, in the Irish Parliament. He was undoubtedly a man of talents ; but, hav- ing gained so high a reputation by his maiden speech, he was afraid to make another — ever prepar- ing, but never ready, for a second effort which should outdo the first. He left nothing as the result of sitting thirty years in the British Parliament, except a meager treatise on parliamentary logic.^ is example furnishes one lesson to young orators, worth more than all the precepts of his book, '^ viz., that he who would succeed as a speaker must be content sometimes to fail. 212 EDMUND BURKE. fusal. Mr. Burke's nice sense of honor made him propose, without the least reason or propriety, to surrender the pension which his services had richly merited. Ham- ilton had the meanness to accept it ; and whether he pocketed the money himself, or gave it to some miserable dependent, he deserves a title more stinging and contempt- uous even than the one he bears. About two years after, in the month of July, 1765, Mr. Burke entered permanently on the duties of public life. The administration of Lord Rockingham was now formed ; and the new minister, being desirous to avail himself of Mr. Burke's splendid abilities, invited him to become his confidential adviser, with a seat in Parliament, and the office of private secretary. The arrangement was gratifying, in a high degree, to the friends of Rockingham. " The British dominions," says one who knew perfectly the character of the political men of the time, " did not furnish a more able and fit per- son for that important and confidential situation ; the only man since the days of Cic- ero, who united the graces of speaking and writing with irresistible force and ele- gance." Mr. Burke, on his part, though pleased with this unlooked-for token of con- fidence, had no very sanguine expectations of the success or permanency of the new ministry. Highly as he estimated Lord Rockingham himself, he knew the discordant materials of which the cabinet was composed. But there was a question at issue with which he was better acquainted than any man in the kingdom — American Taxa- tion ; and no opportunity of influencing the decision of such a question was to be lost or neglected. Accordingly, having taken his seat as member for Wendover, Mr. Burke came forward, at the opening of the session, January, 1766, in a maiden speech of great compass and power, on the absorbing topic of the day, the Stamp Act. He was followed by Mr. Pitt (Lord Chatham), who commenced by saying, that " the young member had proved a very able advocate. He had himself intended to enter at length into the details, but he had been anticipated with such ingenuity and elo- quence, that there was but little left for him to say. He congratulated him on his success, and his friends on the value of the acquisition they had made." Such an en- comium, from the greatest of English orators, gave him at once a high reputation in the House and in the country. To a mind like Mr. Burke's, it afTorded an ample rec- ompense for all his labors. " Laudari a laudato viro,"^ is perhaps the highest grati- fication of genius. The ministry had determined to repeal the Stamp Act, but in doing so, to pass a declaration affirming the right of Parliament to lay taxes on America. This put them between two fires. The courtiers and landed interest resisted the repeal ; Lord Chatham and Lord Camden condemned the declaration. " Every thing on every side," to use the highly figurative language of Mr. Burke, " was full of traps and mines. Earth below shook; heaven above menaced; all the elements of ministerial safety were dissolved." The motion for repeal was made by General Conway ; and Mr. Burke, who took a leading part in the debate, thus described the scene in one of his speeches at a later period. " I knew well enough the true state of things ; but in my life, I never came with such spirits into this House. It was a time for a man to act in. We had a great battle to fight, but we had the means of fighting it. We did fight, that day, and conquer. ^ ^ * In that crisis, the whole trading interest of this empire, crammed in your lobbies, with a trembling and anxious expectation, waited almost to a winter's return of light their fate from your resolution. When, at length, you had determined in their favor, and your doors, thrown open, showed them the fig- ure of their deliverer [General Conway] 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 on a long- absent fa- ther. All England, all America, joined in his applause. Nor did he seem insensible ^ Praise from the praised. EDMUND BURKE. 213 to the best of all earthly rewards. * Hope elevated and joy brightened his crest. '^ I stood near him ; and his face, to use the expression of the Scripture of the first mar- tyr, * 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 would never have exchanged it for all that kings in their profusion could bestow." Notwithstanding the generosity of Mr. Burke in thus transferring to another the honor of that victory, every one knows that he was himself the chief agent in providing "the means" of fighting the battle; and if Charles Townsend had not soon after thrown every thing into confusion by his rash- ness, posterity might have looked back to Edmund Burke, in his connection with Rockingham, as the great instrument of putting an end to the contest with America. The King, much against his will, though pacified in some degree by the Declara- tion, signed the act for repeal, March 18th, 1766. But the fate of the ministry was sealed. Four months after. Lord Rockingham was dismissed. Lord Chatham now followed with his third administration. Under this, Mr. Burke was offered a very important and lucrative oflfice, that of one of the Lords of Trade. But, though "free to choose another connection as any man in the country," and even advised by Lord Rockingham to accept the ofier, he had that delicate sense of honor which forbade him to share in the titles and emoluments of those who had united to remove his patron. The death of Charles Townsend thirteen months after, Septem- ber 2d, 1767, put an end to this ministry, and that of the Duke of Grafton succeeded. Here commenced the ascendency of the Tories, which lasted about two years under the Duke of Grafton, and more than twelve years under Lord North, down to the close of the American war in 1782. During this whole period, Mr. Burke was the acknowledged leader of the Rockingham Whigs in the House, comprising the great body of the Opposition. He took part in every important debate, and, next to Chat- ham, who had now passed into the House of Lords, was universally regarded as the most eloquent speaker in Parliament. The political career of Mr. Burke may be divided into three periods, corresponding to the three great subjects, America, India, and France, which successively occupied the anxieties and labors of his fife, A brief notice of each of these periods is all that can be attempted in a sketch like this. The ^rs^ period, which is equal in length to both the others, consists of about six- teen years, extending from 1766, when he took his seat in Parliament, to the end of the American war in 1782. It was, on the whole, the happiest and most successful part of his life. Though he had many difficulties to encounter, from his want of wealth, rank, and family connections, in addition to the strong prejudice under which he labored as an Irishman, he rose from year to year in the estimation of the House. Every one admired his talents ; every one was delighted with his eloquence. The country cheered him on, as the great advocate of popular rights. His connection with Lord Rockingham secured him the support of a large proportion of the Whigs — a support which could not, indeed, have made him minister under a change of ad- ministration, but which enabled him to carry many important measures in their name and through their infl.uence. It rendered him formidable, also, as leader of the Op- position ; for those who are eager to gain office will rally under almost any one who has great powers of attack. In this respect, Mr. Burke stood for many years without a rival in the House of Commons. And, though inferior to Lord Chatham in that fire and condensed energy which are the highest characteristics of oratory, he far sur- passed him in the patient examination of every subject in debate, the accuracy of his knowledge, the variety and force of his reasonings, and his views of policy, at once comprehensive and practical in the highest degree. Nor was his influence as a lead- er confined to the discussions of the House. No man, probably, in the whole history fi Milton. 214 EDMUND BURKE. of English politics, ever did so much to instruct his friends in private on the ques- tions in debate. His exuberant stores of information were open to every one. Mr. Fox declared toward the close of his life, that he had learned more in conversation with Mr. Burke, than from all the books he had ever read, and all the other men with whom he had ever associated. In 1771, Mr. Burke received the appointment of agent for the colony of New York, with a. salary of about ,£1000 a year. This office he held nearly four years, till the commencement of the American war. It gave him great advantages for obtaining a minute knowledge of the spirit and resources of the colonies, while, at the same time, it lessened the influence of his speeches on American affairs, by awakening the prejudice which is always felt against the arguments of a paid advocate. Mr. Burke's first published speech was that on American Taxation, delivered April 19th, 1774. Often as he had dwelt on this topic in preceding years, no attempt had been made to give any regular report of his speeches. In the present instance, the evening was far advanced before he rose to address the House. The opening of the debate was dull, and many of the members had withdrawn into the adjoining apart- ments or places of refreshment. But the first few sentences of his stinging exordium awakened universal attention. The report of what was going on spread in every quarter ; and the members came crowding back, till the hall was filled to the utmost, and resounded throughout the speech with the loudest expressions of applause. High- ly as they had estimated Mr. Burke's talents, the House were completely taken by sur- prise. Lord John Tow^nsend exclaimed aloud, at the close of one of those powerful passages in which the speech abounds, " Heavens I what a man this is I Where could he acquire such transcendent powers I" The opening of his peroration, espe- cially, came with great weight on the minds of all. " Let us embrace," said he, " some system or other before we end this session. Do you mean to tax America, and 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, ivithout an ohjectT The moment Mr. Burke closed, his friends crowded around his seat, and urged him to commit his speech to writing, and give it immediately to the world, as a protest against the headlong measures which threatened the dismemberment of the empire. He did so, and on five other occasions he repeated the task ; thus leaving us six speeches as representatives of several hundreds, many of which are said to have been equal, if not superior, in eloquence to those which were thus preserved. One espe- cially, delivered about four years after, on the employment of the Indians in the war, was spoken of by his friends as the most powerful appeal which he ever made. Colonel Barre, in the fervor of his excitement, declared that, if it could be written out, he would nail it on every church door in the kingdom. Sir George Savile said, " He who did not hear that speech, has failed to witness the greatest triumph of eloquence within my memory." Governor Johnstone said on the floor of the House, " It was fortunate for the noble Lords [North and Germaine] that spectators had been excluded during that debate, for if any had been present, they w^ould have ex- cited the people to tear the noble Lords in pieces in their way home." Parliament being dissolved in the autumn of 1774, Mr. Burke was invited to offer himself as a candidate for Bristol, in connection with Mr. Henry Cruger, a merchant largely engaged in the American trade. The contest was a sharp one, requiring Mr. Burke and Mr. Cruger to appear daily on the hustings for nearly a month, ready to answer questions of every sort, and to address the electors at a moment's call. Mr. Burke, of course, took the lead ; and a laughable incident occurred on one of these EDMUND BURKE. 215 occasions, showing the power with which he so often absorbed and bore away the minds of others in his glowing trains of thought. Mr. Cruger, being called upon tc follow him after one of these harangues, was so lost in admiration that he could only- cry out, with the genuine enthusiasm of the counting-house, " I say ditto to Mr. Burke, I say ditto to Mr, Burke !" It was undoubtedly the best speech that any man could have made under such circumstances. The contest terminated in their favor, and Mr. Burke had the gratification of being declared a member from the second commercial city of the kingdom, November 3d, 1774. But at the moment of returning thanks, he offended a large part of his sup- porters by a manly assertion of his rights. It was a doctrine much insisted upon at Bristol, that a representative was bound to act and vote according to the instruc- tions of his constituents. To this doctrine Mr, Cruger gave a public assent at the close of the poll. Mr. Burke, in adverting to the subject, remarked, " My worthy colleaguer says his will ought to be subject to yours. If that be all, the thing is in- nocent. If government were a matter of ivill upon any side, yours, without ques- tion, 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 de- termination precedes 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 ?" These sentiments, as we shall see hereafter, lost him the vote of Bristol at the next general election. America was the all-absorbing topic during the first session of the new Parliament, On the 20th of February, 1775, Lord North brought forward an artful scheme, pro- fessedly for the purpose of " conciliating the differences with America," but really intended to divide the colonies among themselves, by exempting from taxation those who, through their General Assemblies, should " contribute their proportion to the common defense." Mr. Burke seized the opportunity thus presented, and endeavored to turn the scheme into its true and proper shape — that of leaving all taxes levied within the colonies, to be laid by their General Assemblies ; and thus establishing the great principle of English liberty, that taxation and representation are insep- arably conjoined. This gave rise to his celebrated speech on Conciliation with America, delivered March 22d, 1775. It would seem hardly possible that, in speak- ing so soon again on the same subject, he could avoid making this speech, to some extent, an echo of his former one. But never were two productions more entirely different. His " stand-point" in the first was England. His topics were the in- consistency and folly of the ministry in their " miserable circle of occasional argu- ments and temporary expedients" for raising a revenue in America, His object was to recall the House to the original principles of the English colonial system — that of regulating the trade of the colonies, and making it subservient to the interests of the mother country, while in other respects she left them " every characteristic mark of a free people in all their internal concerns." His " stand-point" in the second speech was Ariierica. His topics were her growing population, agriculture, commerce, and fisheries ; the causes of her fierce spirit of liberty ; the impossibility of repressing it by force ; and the consequent necessity of some concession on the part of England. His object was (waiving all abstract questions about the right of taxation) to show that Parliament ought " to admit the people of the colonies into an interest in the Constitution," by giving them (like Ireland, Wales, Chester, and Durham) a share in the representation ; and to do this, by leaving internal taxation to the colonial Assemblies, since no one could think of an actual representation of America in Par- liament at the distance of three thousand miles. The two speeches were equally diverse in their spirit. The first was in a strain of incessant attack, full of the keen- est sarcasm, and shaped from beginning to end for the purpose of putting down the 216 EDMUND BURKE. ministry. The second, like the plan it proposed, was conciliatory ; temperate and respectful toward Lord North ; designed to inform those who were ignorant of the real strength and feelings of America ; instinct with the finest philosophy of man and of social institutions ; and intended, if possible, to lead the House, through Lord North's scheme, into a final adjustment of the dispute on the true principles of English liberty. [It is the most finished of Mr. Burke's speeches ; and though it contains no passage of such vividness and force as the description of Hyder Ali in his speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, it will be read probably more than any of his other speeches, for the richness of its style and the lasting character of the instruction it conveys. Twenty years after, Mr. Fox said, in applying its principles to the sub- ject of parliamentary reform, " Let gentlemen read this speech by day and meditate on it by night ; let them peruse it again and again, study it, imprint it on their mhids, 'impress it on their heartS:^they will there learn that representatioii is the sovereign remedy for every evil."! Both of Mr. Burke's speeches on America, indeed, are full of materials for the orator and the statesman. After all that has been written on the origin of our Revolution, there is nowhere else to be found so admirable a summation of the causes which produced it. They both deserve to be studied with the utmost diligence by every American scholar. \ The next speech which Mr. Burke wrote out for publication was that on Econom- ical Reform, delivered February 20th, 1780. The subject is one which has no inter- est for the American reader, and the speech is therefore omitted in this collection. Like all his great efforts, it is distinguished by comprehensiveness of design and a minute knowledge of details. It has an exuberance of fancy, and too much of that coarse humor in which Mr. Burke sometimes indulged. His proposal was to reduce the expenses of the government by abolishing a large number of those sinecure offices which gave such enormous patronage to the Crown. But he had the most formi- dable difficulties to encounter. Lord Talbot had previously attempted to reform a single class of expenses — those of the royal kitchen ; but was foiled at the outset, as Mr. Burke tells us in his speech, " because the King's turnspit was a member of Parliament r' Against the present scheme were arrayed, not only every turnspit in the palace, but the keepers of the stag, buck, and fox hounds, in the shape of hon- orable members, or lords in waiting, together with scores of others among the nobil- ity and gentry, who were living on offices now fallen into total disuse, which once ministered to the pleasure or safety of the monarch. As might be expected, the plan, though highly approved of by the public, was voted down in the House ; and Mr. Burke was left to console himself under his defeat with the popularity of his propo- sals, and the praises bestowed on his eloquence. Six years had now elapsed since Mr. Burke's election as member for Bristol ; and he was suddenly called upon, by the dissolution of Parliament, September 1st, 1780, to appear again before his constituents, and solicit their favor. It was a difficult task. He had differed from them widely on several important subjects. Many had taken offense at the course he pursued, not only in respect to America, but to the open- ing of the Irish trade, and other measures afi^ecting the interests of Bristol. On some of these points he had explained and justified his conduct, in three able pamphlets, to be found in his works, addressed to the Sheriffs of Bristol, or to citizens of that place. Still, there was a violent hostility to his re-election. He had disobeyed the instructions of his constituents ; he had, as they imagined, sacrificed some of their most important interests ; he had wounded their pride by neglecting to visit them since the previous election. Hence, when he arrived in town to commence his can- vass, he found himself met by the most formidable opposition. It was on this occa- sion that he came forward, September 6th, 1780, with his celebrated speech pre- vious to the election at Bristol ; " the best ever uttered on such an occasion, and per- EDMUND BURKE. 217 haps never excelled by any thing he ever delivered elsewhere." Sir Samuel Romilly speaks of it as " perhaps the best piece of oratory in our language." — Works, i., 213. Being addressed to plain men, it has less fancy, less of studied ornament and classical allusion, than his speeches in Parliament. It is more business-like, simple, and di- rect. At the same time, it has all the higher quaHties of Mr. Burke's mind ; his thorough knowledge of human nature ; his deep insight into political and social in- stitutions ; his enlarged views ; his generous sentiments ; his keen sensibility to the sufferings and wrongs of others ; and his inflexible determination to do right, at all hazards and under all circumstances. Its manliness is, after all, its most striking characteristic. He had the strongest motives to shuffle, to evade, to conciliate. But he met every thing full in the face. " I did not obey your instructions. No I I conformed to the instructions of truth and nature, and maintained your interests against your opinions, with a constancy that became me. A representative worthy of you, ought to be a person of stability. I am to look, indeed, to your opinions, but to such opinions as you and I must have five years hence. I was not to look to the flash of the day. I knew that you chose me, in my place, along with others, to be a pillar of the state, and not a weathercock on the top of the edifice, exalted for my levity and versatility, and of no use but to indicate the shiftings of every fashionable gale." It was apparent, at the close of his speech, that although the main body of the Corporation and of the Dissenters were with him, together with much of the wealth and respectability of the city, there was no chance of his being re-elected. He there- fore determined at once to decline the contest, and did so, the next day, in a short speech, containing one of those touching reflections, embalmed in the most beautiful imagery, which occur so often in the writings of Mr. Burke. One of his competitors, Mr. Coombe, overcome by the excitement and agitation of the canvass, had died the preceding night. Such an event was indeed " an awful lesson against being too much troubled about any of the objects of ordinary ambition." Well might Mr. Burke say, in taking leave, " The worthy gentleman who has been snatched from us at the mo- ment of the election, and in the middle of the contest, while his desires were as warm, and his hopes as eager as ours, has feelingly told us tvhat shadoivs ice are, and ivhat shadoivs ice 'pursue .'" Through the influence of Lord Rockingham, Mr. Burke was returned at once as member for Malton, and sat for this place during the remainder of his public life. '* That humble borough," as Mr. Adolphus has remarked in his History of England, *' gained by such a member an honor which the greatest commercial city might rea- sonably envy." On the 27th of November, 1781, Mr. Burke, in animadverting on the King's speech, delivered one of his most eloquent philippics against the continuance of the American war. It was not, however, reported with any degree of fullness or accuracy, and is remembered only for the striking figure which it contained of " shearing the wolf." " The noble Lord tells us that we went to war for the maintenance of rights : the King's speech says, we will go on for the maintenance of our rights. Oh, invaluable rights, that have cost Great Britain thirteen provinces, four islands, a hundred thou- sand men, and seventy millions of money I Oh, inestimable rights, that have taken from us our rank among nations, our importance abroad, and our happiness at home ; that ha\'e taken from us our trade, our manufactures, our commerce ; that have re- duced us from the most flourishing empire in the world, to be one of the most miser- able and abject powers on the face of the globe ! All this we did because we had a right to tax America ! Miserable and infatuated ministers I Wretched and un- done country l^riot to know that right signifies nothing without might — that the claim, withourthe power of enforcing it, is nugatory and idle !^ We had a right to 218 EDMUND BURKE. tax America I Such is the reasoning by which the noble Lord justifies his conduct. Similar was the reasoning of him who was resolved to shear the ivolf ! What ! shear a wolf? Have you considered the difficulty, the resistance, the danger ? No ! says the madman, I have considered nothing but the right I Man has a right of dominion over the inferior animals. A wolf has wool ; animals that have wool are to be shorn ; therefore I will shear the wolf I" ^ \ Well might Mr. Burke employ such language ; for the news had reached London only two days before, that Lord Cornwalhs had capitulated at Yorktown, with the loss of his entire army. When the intelligence was carried to Lord North, he re- ceived it, says an eye-witness, " as he would have taken a ball into his breast !" He threw open his arms, exclaiming wildly, as he paced the room, "It is all over ! it is all over I" And yet the war was to go on I Such was the inflexible determ- ination of the King, who came forward the next day in his speech at the opening of Parliament, with increased demands for " concurrence and assistance" to carry on the contest. Such obstinacy justified the remarks of Mr. Burke, and the still greater severity with which Mr. Fox, in the same debate, pointed directly at the King him- self. " We have heard a speech," said he, " breathing vengeance, blood, misery, and rancor. It speaks exactly this language : ' Much has been lost ; much blood, much treasure has been squandered ; the burdens of my people are almost intolerable ; but my passions are yet ungratified ; my object of subjugation and revenge is yet unfulfilled; and therefore I am determined to persevere.' " And he did persevere. He compelled his ministers to persevere three months longer, during which the at- tack in the House of Commons was carried on with increased vehemence by Mr. Burke, Mr. Fox, and their associates, until, on the 27th of February, 1782, Lord North was voted down by a majority of 234 to 215. When the result was declared, there arose, says an eye-witness, a shout of triumph throughout the House, which seemed to pierce the roof, and then rolled away into the remotest parts of Westminster Hall. The King was conquered ! At the close of March, a new ministry was formed, with Lord Rockingham at its head, having a cabinet composed of five Rockingham and five Shelburne Whigs. As the two parties could not agree on the disposal of the great seal, Lord Thurlow, with all his violent Tory feelings, was retained as Lord Chan- cellor, much to the satisfaction of the King. We now come to the second period of Mr. Burke's political life. It would natu- rally be supposed that he who had borne nearly all the labor of this protracted con- test, and had for years been the acknowledged head of the Opposition, would now be rewarded with a seat in the cabinet and the leadership of the House. Had Lord North resigned three years before, such might perhaps have been the case ; but the pupil had risen above the master. Mr. Fox was now actuated by the keenest desire for popularity and power ; and at this juncture he enjoyed peculiar advantages for placing himself at the head of the Whig party. His manners were highly concilia- ting ; he was universally popular among the middle classes ; while, as the favorite son of Lord Holland, he had unbounded influence with many of the most powerful families of the kingdom among the nobility and gentry. Though far inferior to Mr. Burke in richness of thought and copiousness of eloquence, he was a much more ef- fective debater. He had made himself, by long practice, a perfect master of the science of attack and defense. When we add to this that he had a peculiar tact, beyond any of his contemporaries, for training and directing a political party, it is not surprising that he obtained the leadership of the House, and was made Secretary of State, while Mr. Burke was appointed Paymaster-general of the Forces. Whatever pain it may have cost him, Burke submitted to this arrangement with that noble generosity of feeling which was one of the brightest traits in his character. His bi- ographer has truly said, " A vain man would have resented this treatment ; a weak EDMUND BURKE. 219 man would have complained of it ; an ambitious or selfish man would have taken advantage of the first opportunity to quit the connection, and throw the weight of his name and talents into the opposite scale ;" but Mr. Burke quietly yielded the prece- dence. He gave all the force of his transcendent abilities for the support and ad- vancement of one who had crowded into his place. The whole history of politics affords hardly another instance of such a sacrifice, made in a spirit so truly noble and magnanimous. Nor did he ever separate himself, in action or feeling, from Mr. Fox, until the French Revolution put an end at once to their political connection and their private friendship. Under the new ministry, measures of the highest importance were immediately brought forward, and carried successfully through Parhament. In most of these measures Mr. Burke took the lead and responsibility far more than Mr. Fox. His plan of Economical Reform, which had previously been defeated, was now revived. Though narrowed in some of /its provisions, it was strenuously resisted by the adher- ents of the Court, but ultimately passed by a large majority. Many useless offices were abolished in the royal household, with a saving of nearly a hundred thousand pounds a year. Provision was thus made for paying off the King's debts, which al- ready amounted to £300,000 ; and a check was put to the recurrence of such exor- bitant demands in future. His bill for regulating the duties of the Paymaster's de- partment, was considered an extraordinary specimen of tact and ingenuity in arrrang- ing the details of a most complicated business. Any material reform here had been regarded as hopeless. And so it w^ould have proved, if he had not commenced with himself ; if he had not swept away at once enormous perquisites attached to his own office, arising out of profits on contracts, &c., together with the use of nearly a mill- ion of the public money, which made the situation of Paymaster the most lucrative one under the government. Considering his straitened circumstances, this was an extraordinary sacrifice. Lord Chatham alone had dechned to use the public money, and placed it on deposit in the bank, Mr. Burke did more. He stripped himself of all his perquisites. He abolished them forever, and thus made a saving to the public which a pension of ten thousand pounds a year would have poorly recom- pensed. Lord Rockingham died suddenly on the first of July, 1782, at the end of thirteen weeks from the commencement of his administration. Lord Shelburne, without a word of consultation with his colleagues, instantly seized the reins. Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke, together with the Rockingham Whigs, considered themselves ill treated, and at once resigned. The Shelburne administration, which will be spoken of more fully hereafter, lasted hardly eight months. It was overthrown February the 21st, 1783, by the famous coalition between Mr. Fox and Lord North, which, giving the nominal headship to the Duke of Portland, made Mr, Fox the real and responsible minister. To this ill-advised union with their former enemy, Mr. Burke acceded with reluctance, overcome, as his biographer declares, by " the persuasions of Mr. Fox, who was both eloquent and urgent with him on that occasion." Under the coalition ministry, he again became Paymaster of the Forces. The great measure of this administration, on which its fate at last turned, was the celebrated East India Bill of Mr. Fox, As this measure originated with Mr. Burke, who was the animating spirit of every party to which he belonged, it will be proper to speak briefly on the subject in this place. More than ten years before, his atten- tion was strongly drawn to the affairs of India. He studied the subject with his accustomed assiduity, and showed so intimate an acquaintance with its minutest de- tails, when the affairs of the East India Company came before the House in 1772, that Lord North, with a view, no doubt, to get rid of a troublesome opponent, sound- *5 See page 56. 220 EDMUND EURKE. ed him on the question " whether he was willing to go out at the head of a commis- sion for revising the whole interior administration of India." About four years after, his brother William went to that country, where he became agent for the Rajah of Tanjore, and afterward Deputy Paymaster-general of India. Through him Mr. Burke obtained much minute information respecting the Company's concerns, which could only have been collected by a person living on the spot. These studies were pursued wdth still greater diligence after he was appointed a member of the Select Committee to inquire into the concerns of the East India Company, and the result has been thus graphically described by Mr. Macaulay, who was qualified, by a resi- dence of some years on the banks of the Ganges, to speak decisively on the subject : " Mr. Burke's knowledge of India was such as few, even of those Europeans who have passed many years in that country, have attained, and such as certainly was never attained by any public man who had not quitted Europe. ^He had studied the history, the laws, and the usages of the East with an industry such as is" seldom found united to so much genius and so much sensibility. In every part of those huge bales of Indian information, which repelled almost all other readers, his mind, at once philosophical and poetical, found something to instruct or to delight. His reason analyzed and digested those vast and shapeless masses ; his imagination ani- mated and colored them. He had in the highest degree that noble faculty whereby man is able to live in the past and the future, in the distant and the unreal. India and its inhabitants were not to him, as to most Englishmen, mere names and ab- stractions, but a real country and a real people. The burning sun ; the strange vegetation of the palm and cocoa-nut tree ; the rice-fields and the tank ; the huge trees, older than the Mogul empire, under which the village crowds assemble ; the thatched roof of the peasant's hut, and the rich tracery of the mosque, where the imaum prayed with his face toward Mecca ; the drums, and banners, and gaudy idols ; the devotee SAvinging in the air ; the graceful maiden, with the pitcher on her head, descending the steps to the river side ; the black faces, the long beards, the yellow streaks of sect ; the turbans and the flowing robes ; the spears and the silver maces ; the elephants, with their canopies of state ; the gorgeous palanquin of the prince, and the close litter of the lady, all these things were to him as the ob- jects amid which his own life had been passed, as the objects which lay on the road between Beaconsfield and St. James's Street. All India was present to the eye of his mind, from the halls where suitors laid gold and perfumes at the feet of sover- eigns, to the wild moor where the gipsy-camp was pitched ; from the bazars, hum- ming like bee-hives with the crowd of buyers and sellers, to the jungle, where the lonely courier shakes his bunch of iron rings to scare away the hyenas. He had just as lively an idea of the insurrection at Benares as of Lord George Gordon's riots, and of the execution of Nuncomar as of the execution of Dr. Dodd. Oppression in Ben- gal was to him the same thing as oppression in the streets of London."^] And why should it not be ? Under the government of India, as now administered, the crimes of Englishmen abroad are punished on the same principles as the crimes of Englishmen at home. If a hundredth part of the cruelty and extortion of which Burke complained, were now found to exist among the Company's servants in India, all England would be moved with indignation, and nothing but the severest punish- ment could satisfy the demands of public justice. This change has been wrought mainly by the eloquence of Mr. Burke. The perpetrators of those crimes were indeed sufl^ered to escape, for the nation had shared too largely in the profit to be fit execu- tioners of the guilty. But every one felt that such enormities must cease ; and the high ground taken by Mr. Burke was, perhaps, the only one which could have produced 60 entire a change of public sentiment. He was satisfied that the East India Com- "> Miscellanies, Warren Hastings. EDMUND BURKE. 221 pany, from its very constitution, was unable to redress these evils ; and he therefore proposed at once to set aside their charter, and commit all their concerns, with the entire government of India, to Commissioners to be appointed by the House of Com- mons. Such, in substance, was the intent of Mr. Fox's East India Bill ; and what- ever ambitious designs that gentleman may have been charged with in bringing for- ward this measure, no one suspects Mr. Burke of having been actuated by any other motives but those of justice and humanity. On the question of going into a commit- tee on the bill, December 1st, 1783, he delivered a speech of more than three hours in length, which completely exhausted the subject. As a piece of lucid and powerful reasoning, entering into the minutest details, and yet bringing every position to the test of general principles, it is incomparably superior to both of Mr. Fox's speeches in explanation and defense of his bill. This speech was committed to writing, and pub- lished by Mr. Burke soon after its delivery. It will be found below, with the omission of some of the numerous details which were necessary to make out the argument, but which have no longer any interest for the general reader. The bill, it is well known, passed the House of Commons by a large majority, but was defeated in the House of Lords by the direct interposition of the King. The details of this subject will be given hereafter in the sketch of Mr. Fox's life. Suffice it to say, that the coalition ministry was dismissed on the ISth of December, 1783, and Mr. William Pitt placed at the head of affairs. Mr. Burke went into opposition with Mr. Fox, under a deep sense of wrong as to the means employed for driving them from office ; and from this time, for nearly ten years, he was one of the most strenuous opponents of Mr. Pitt's administration. On the 28th of February, 1785, Mr. Burke dehvered the last of the six great speeches which he wrote out for publication. It was that on the Nabob of Arcot's debts. The theme was unpromising, and he rose to speak under every possible disadvantage. It was late at night, or rather early in the morning, and the House was so exhausted by the previous debate, and so wear}^ of the whole subject, that they seemed almost to a man determined not to hear him. He proceeded, however, amid much noise and interruption, and poured out his feeUngs, for nearly five hours, with an ardor and im- petuosity which he had never before equaled. In this speech we have the most sur- prising exhibition to be found in any of Mr. Burke's productions, of the compass and variety of thought which he was able to crowd into a single effort. In rhetorical ad- dress, vivid painting, lofty declamation, bitter sarcasm, and withering invective, it surpasses all his former speeches. It has also more of the peculiar faults which be- longed to his extemporaneous speaking. In some passages there is a violence of attack which seems almost savage, and a coarseness of imagery, where he seeks to degrade, which he never allowed himself to use in any other of his printed productions. Warren Hastings, whom he regarded as the responsible author of nearly all the calamities of India, landed in England about three months after, on the 16th of June, 1785. Within four days, Mr. Burke gave notice that, if 7io one else cmne forward as his accuser, he should himself move for an inquiry into his conduct as Governor General of India, with a view to his impeachment before the House of Lords. In thus challenging the ministry to take up the prosecution, he acted wisely ; for it is hardly possible for any one, except those in power, to command the necessary evidence in such a case, or to use it with effect. Until within a brief period, the leading mem- bers of the administration had been nearly or quite as hostile to Mr. Hastings as Mr. Burke himself Mr. Dundas, when chairman of a committee on Indian affairs, had moved a series of the severest resolutions against him, recommending, among other things, his immediate recall. But times were now changed. Mr. Pitt's East India Bill had virtually placed the government of India in the hands of Mr. Dundas, as head of the Board of Control. It was now the interest of the ministry to keep things quiet. They could not decently refuse an inquiry^ but they had no wish to promote 222 EDMUND BURKE. it. Mr. Pitt's policy was to gain credit by assuming the character of an umpire, and to defeat the impeachment, if he saw fit, during the course of the mtroductory pro- ceedings in the House. To go forward under such circumstances required a degree of courage in Mr. Burke bordering upon rashness. It seemed almost certain that he must fail. Hastings was a personal favorite of the King. He had gained the confidence of the Board of Con- trol, who were willing to overlook his past delinquencies in view of the stability he had given to the British empire in India. He had the warm support of the East India Company, which was saved from ruin and emiched with the spoils of king- doms by his unscrupulous devotion to its interests. He was popular with the British residents in India, many of whom had gained immense fortunes under his adminis- tration at the expense of the natives, and were therefore ready to testify in his favor. He had friends of the highest rank in England, and among them Lord Thurlow, the favorite Chancellor of George III., who had pledged all their influence for his eleva- tion to the peerage, and even higher honors which it was supposed the King was ready to bestow. Intrenched as Mr. Hastings thus w^as on every side, what could seem more hopeless than Mr. Burke's attempt to obtain the evidence of his crimes ? Accord- ingly, when he and Mr. Fox called for the requisite papers in February, 1786, they were met by the ministry with impediments at every step, showing the strong reluct- ance of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas to go on with the inquiry. A stormy debate ensued, which only increased the difficulty. Mr. Burke next brought forward (June, 1786) the Rohilla war as his first charge. Mr. Hastings' conduct in relation to this war had been pointedly condemned by Mr. Dundas himself in the resolutions mentioned above. It was a simple contract for blood, under which Mr. Hastings, in consideration of £400,000 received from Sujah Dowlah, gave him a British army ivith ichich to subjugate, or rather destroy, the neighboring nation of the Rohillas, who had never done the slightest injury to the British. Such were the facts, as admitted by all par- ties. The only defense was "state necessity I" The £400,000 were wanted to maintain the British conquests in India ! It was, indeed, the price of blood. Nearly all the nation was exterminated. " More than a hundred thousand people fled from their homes to pestilential jungles, preferring famnie, and fever, and the haunts of tigers, to the tyranny of him to whom an English and a Christian government had for shameful lucre sold their substance and their blood, and the honor of their wives and children I" And yet Mr. Dundas, admitting that " the Rohilla war was an un- justifiable measure," talked of " state 'policy''' as the grand rule by which the sover- eigns of powerful nations generally governed their public conduct, dwelt on " the essential services Mr. Hastings had rendered his country in the latter part of the war," and spoke of him as " the Savior of India I" Mr. Pitt said nothing ! His friend, Mr. Wilberforce, did indeed support Mr. Burke's motion, declaring Mr. Hastings' con- tract with Sujah Dowlah " indefensible, and for an end inhuman and scandalous ;" but the adherents of the minister understood how they were to vote, and absolved Mr. Hastings by a majority of 119 to 67.^ It is surprising that Mr. Burke and his friends did not instantly drop the prosecu- tion. Hastings felt sure of the victory ; and when Mr. Fox, supported by Sir Philip Francis, came forward, ten days after, with the charge of extortion in the case of Cheyte Sing, Rajah of Benares, the public universally expected a second acquittal, es- pecially as the supporters of government in the House had received a note requesting them to be present, and to vote against Mr. Fox's motion. But, to the astonishment of all, the charge had hardly been made, when Mr. Pitt rose and declared that he should vote in favor of the motion for inquiring into Mr. Hastings' conduct. A few independent men on the ministerial benches were so completely scandahzed by this 8 Parliamentary History, vol. xxvi., 91. EDMUND BURKE. 223 sudden change, that they refused him their vote ; but the great body remained true to the principles of party disciphne, and the minister carried with him precisely the same number (119) for condemning Mr. Hastings, which he had used ten days before to acquit him, when charged with an offense incomparably more atrocious I Such a change must, of course, have been owing to some new light which had suddenly broke in upon the minds of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas, in the doubtful game of poli- tics in which they were then engaged. It is thus alluded to by Mr. Macaulay in his elaborate sketch of the life and character of Hastings, first published in the Edinburgh Review : " It was asserted," he says, "by Mr. Hastings, that, early on the morning of that very day on which the debate took place, Dundas called on Pitt, woke him, and was closeted with him many hours. The result of this conference was a determ- ination to give up the late Governor-general to the vengeance of the Opposition. ^' ^ The friends of Mr. Hastings, most of whom, it is to be observed, generally supported the administration, affirmed that the motive of Pitt and Dundas was jealousy. Hast ings was personally a favorite with the King. He was the idol of the East Indir. Company. If he were absolved by the Commons, seated among the Lords, admitted to the Board of Control, closely allied with the strong-minded and imperious Thur- low, was it not almost certain that he would soon draw to himself the entire man- agement of Indian afTairs ? Was it not possible that he might become a formidable rival in the cabinet ? If the Commons impeached Hastings, all danger was at an end. The proceeding, however it might terminate, would probably last some year?. In the mean time, the accused person would be excluded from honors and public em- ployments, and could scarcely venture even to pay his service at court. Such were the motives attributed by a great part of the public to the young minister, whose ruling passion was generally believed to be avarice of power." From this time forth there was no more difficulty in the reception of charges. On the 7th of February, 1787, Mr. Sheridan delivered his brilliant speech on the cruelties practiced upon the Begums, or Princesses of Oude, and a Committee of Impeachment was soon after formed. This committee consisted of Burke, Fox, Sheridan, Windham, and Charles Grey, afterward Earl Grey, who acted as managers ; together with fifteen others, who took no active part in the prosecution. The articles of impeachment Avere drawn up by Mr. Burke, and delivered to the House on the 25th of April. After a brief discussion, they were adopted; and on the 10th of May, 1787, Mr. Burke, at- tended by the members of the House of Commons, went to the bar of the House of Lords, and there in form impeached Warren Hastings of high crimes and misde- meanor. The trial commenced in Westminster Hall on the 13th of February, 1788. After two days spent in the preliminary ceremonies, Mr. Burke opened the case in a speech which lasted four days, and was designed to give the members of the court a view of the character and condition of the people of India; the origin of the power exer- cised by the East India Company ; the situation of the natives under the govern- ment of the Enghsh ; the miseries they had endured through the agency of Mr. Hastings ; and the motives by which he was influenced in his multiplied acts of cru- elty and oppression. This speech has, perhaps, been truly characterized as the great- est intellectual effort ever made before the Parliament of Great Britain. A writer adverse to the impeachment has remarked, that " Mr. Burke astonished even those who were most intimately acquainted with him by the vast extent of his readiaig, the variety of his resources, the minuteness of his information, and the lucid order in which he arranged the whole for the support of his subject, and to make a deep im- pression on the minds of his auditory." On the third day, when he described the cruelties inflicted upon the natives by Debi Sing, one of Mr. Hastings' agents, a convulsive shudder ran throughout the whole assembly. " In this part of his speech," 224 EDMUND BURKE. says the reporter, "his descriptions were more vivid, more harrowing, more horiiiic, than human utterance, on either fact or fancy, perhaps ever formed before." Mr. Burke himself was so much overpowered at one time that he dropped his head upon his hands, and was unable for some minutes to proceed ; while " the bosoms of his auditors became convulsed with passion, and those of more delicate organs or a weak- er frame swooned away." Even Mr. Hastings himself, who, not having ordered these inflictions, had always claimed that he was not involved in their guilt, was utterly overwhelmed. In describing the scene afterward, he said, " For half an hour I looked up at the orator in a revery of v/onder, and actually felt myself to be the most culpable man on earth." " But at length," he added (in reference to the grounds just mentioned), " I recurred to my own bosom, and there found a conscious- ness that consoled me under all I heard and all I suffered." Such a speech it was impossible for any reporter adequately to record, and Mr. Burke never wrote it out for publication. He left numerous papers, however, from which, after his death, a continuous report was framed of this and his other speeches against Hastings, chiefly in his own language, though we can not suppose that, in the vehement passages mentioned above, we have the exact expressions, the vivid painting, or impassioned energy with which he electrified Westminster Hall, and filled that vast assembly with mingled emotions of indignation and horror. The pe- roration of this speech, as delivered by Mr. Burke, will be given below. The trial lasted one hundred and forty-seven days. If conducted in an ordinary court of justice, it would have been finished in less than three months; but in the House of Lords, being taken up only three or four hours at a time, in the intervals of other business, it extended through seven years. Mr. Burke made his closing speech in behalf of the managers on the 16th of July, 1794. It was in the darkest season of the French Revolution, a few days before the fall of Robespierre, when the British empire was agitated with conflicting passions, and fears were entertained by many of secret conspiracies to overthrow the government. To these things he re- ferred at the close of his peroration, which has a grandeur and solemnity becoming the conclusion of such a trial. "My Lords, I have done ! The part of the Commons is concluded ! With a trembling hand, we consign the product of these long, long labors to your charge. Take it / Take it ! It is a sacred trust ! Never before was a cause of such magnitude submitted to any human tribunal ! " My Lords, at this awful close, in the name of the Commons, and surrounded by them, I attest the retiring, I attest the advancing genei'ations, between which, as a link in the chain of eternal order, we stand. We call this nation, we call the world, to witness, that the Commons have shrunk from no labor ; that we have been guilty of no prevarications ; that we have made no compromise with crime ; that we have not feared any odium whatsoever, in the long warfare which we have carried on with the crimes, the vices, the exorbitant wealth, the enormous and overpowering influ- ence, of Eastern corruption. " A business which has so long occupied the councils and tribunals of Great Britain, can not pos- sibly be hurried over in the course of vulgar, trite, and transitory events. Nothing but some of those great revolutions that bi'eak the traditionary chain of human memory, and alter the very face of nature itself, can possibly obscure it. My Lords, we are all elevated to a degree of importance by it. The meanest of us will, by means of it, become more or less the concern of poster itrj. " My Lords, your House yet stands ; it stands, a great edifice ; but, let me say, it stands in the midst of ruins — in the midst of ruins that have been made by the greatest moral earthquake that ever convulsed and shattered this globe of ours. My Lords, it has pleased Providence to place us in such a state, that we appear every moment to be on the verge of some great mutation. There is one thing, and one thing only, that defies mutation — that which existed before the world itself. I mean justice ; that justice which, emanating from the Divinity, has a place in the breast of every one of us, given us for our guide with regard to ourselves, and with regard to others ; and which will stand after this globe is burned to ashes, our advocate or our accuser before the great Judge, when he comes to call upon us for the tenor of a well-spent life. " My Lords, the Commons will share in every fate with your Lordships. There is nothing sin- ister which can happen to you, in which we are not involved. And if it should so happen that your Lordships, .stripped of all the decorous distinctions of human society, should, by hands at once base i EDMUND BURKE. 225 and cruel, be led to those scaffolds and machines' of murder upon which great kings and glorious queens have shed their blood, amid the prelates, the nobles, the magistrates who supported their thrones, may you in those moments feel that consolation which I am persuaded they felt in the criti- cal moments of their dreadful agony ! * ^ * "My Lords, if you must fall, may you so fall! But if you stand — and stand I trust you will, together with the fortunes of this ancient monarchy ; together with the ancient laws and liberties of this great and illustrious kingdom — may you stand as unimpeached in honor as in power ! JNIay you stand, not as a substitute for virtue ; may you stand, and long stand, the terror of tyrants ; may you stand, the refuge of afflicted nations ; may you stand, a sacred temple for the perpetual residence of inviolable justice !" Mr. Hastings, it is well known, was acquitted by the House of Lords. This, how- ever, does not imply that the atrocities so eloquently described by Mr. Burke were found to be overstated. Far from it. They are now matters of undisputed history.^ One difhculty lay in the mode of proof. In previous cases of impeachment, the High Court of Parliament had never been bound by those strict rules of evidence which prevail in the lower courts. Proof of every kind was admitted which goes to satisfy men in the ordinary concerns of life, as to the truth or falsity of a charge. But it was now decided to adhere to the strict rules of legal evidence. The de- cision marks an advance in English justice. If these rules are wrong, they should be altered ; but they should be one and the same in the highest and the lowest courts. The managers, however, were prepared for no such decision ; and the mo- ment it was made, the acquittal of Mr. Hastings became morally certain. Hundreds whom we know to be guilty, are acquitted every year in our courts of justice for want of legal proof. Much of the proof relied upon by the managers was ruled out on the principles now adopted, and what every body believed to be true, and history has recorded as fact, the court could not receive m evidence. In addition to this, the cruelty and injustice in such cases must be chiefly exercised through intermedi- ate agents ; and it is often impossible to connect those agents by legal proof with the real author of the crimes. There was still another difficulty. These crimes, in most instances, as the court were made to believe, were the o(iily possible mea.ns of upholding the British government in India. They were committed for the sake of raising money in crises of extreme danger, and often of sudden rebellion, when, with- out money to support his troops, Mr. Hastings and his government would have been swept out of India in a single month. These considerations were powerfully urged by Mr. Erskine in his defense of Stockdale for publishing a pamphlet in favor of Hastings. " It may and must be true that Mr. Hastings has repeatedly oflended against the rights and privileges of Asiatic government, if he was the faithful deputy of a power which could not maintain itself for an hour v^ithout trampling upon both. He may and must have offended against the laws of God and nature, if he was the faithful viceroy of an empire wrested in blood from the people to whom God and nature had given it. He may and must have preserved that unjust dominion over timorous and abject nations by a terrifying, overbearing, insulting superiority, if he was the faithful administrator of your government, which, having no root in consent or affection, no foundation in similarity of interests, no support from any one princi- ple which cements men together in society, can be upheld only by alternate strata- gem and force." Such were the considerations which turned the tide of popular sentiment in favor of Mr. Hastings, and made it impossible to convict him, though morally guilty, if not of all the crimes laid to his charge, at least of numerous and most flagrant acts of cruelty and oppression. But if Mr. Burke failed in the im- peachment, he succeeded in the main object which he had in view, that of lay- ing open to the indignant gaze of the public the enormities practiced under the British government in India. Nothing more was necessary to secure their correc- tion ; and his " long, long labors" in this cause became the means, though not so ^ See Mill's British India, vol. v., passim. P 226 EDMUND BURKE. (lireotly as lie intended, of great and lasting benefits to a hundred and fifty millions of people. In addition to these labors, and during their greatest urgency, Mr. Burke was drawn into a new conflict with Mr. Pitt, of the most exciting nature. The King became deranged in October, 1788, and the "Regency Cluestion" instantly arose to agitate and divide the empire. The Opposition took the ground that the Prince of Wales had the inherent right, as heir of the crown, to act as regent during his father's loss of reason. Mr. Pitt denied this right, affirming that it lay with Parlia- ment alone to provide for such an exigency — that they might commit the custody of the King's person and the administration of the government to other hands, if they saw fit ; and might impose whatever restrictions they thought proper on the authority of the Prnice of Wales, if they declared him regent. The subject more naturally belongs to the measures of Mr. Fox, and will be dwelt upon hereafter in the sketch of his life. It is necessary in this place only to say, that Mr. Burke took up the ques- tion, which was debated nearly two months, with more than his ordinary zeal and strength of feeling. He thought the Prince of Wales was treated with harshness and injustice. He maintained his cause with consummate ability ; and it is now known that he drew up the celebrated letter on the subject, addressed by the Prince to Mr. Pitt, which has been so much admired, not only as a fine specimen of English composition, but as showing " the true, transmigrating power of genius, which en- abled him thus to pass his spirit into the station of royalty, and to assume the calm dignity, both of style and feeling, that became it." It has been already remarked that the first period of Mr. Burke's political life was the happiest. He was on the ascendent scale of influence and usefulness. His fac- ulties were fresh ; his hopes were high ; and whenever he rose to speak, he was cheered by the consciousness of being listened to with interest and respect. But after the defeat of Mr. Fox's East India Bill, all was changed. In common with Mr. Fox, he was loaded with unpopularity ; and, being retired in his habits, he never attempted, like his great leader, to cast off' the odium thus incurred by a familiar in- tercourse with his political opponents. On the contrary, he was often drawn into personal altercations with Mr. Pitt, in which he lost his temper, and thus became doubly exposed to that cutting sarcasm or withering contempt with which the young minister knew how, better than any man of his age, to overwhelm an antagonist. A course of systematic insult was likewise adopted by certain members of the House, for the purpose of putting him down. " Muzzling the lion" was the term applied to such treatment of the greatest genius of the age. Wlien he arose to speak, he was usually assailed with coughing, ironical cheers, affected laughter, and other tokens of dislike. Such things, of course, he could not ordinarily notice ; though he did, in one instance, stop to remark, that " he could teach a pack of hounds to yelp with more melody and equal comprehension." George Selwyn used to tell a story with much effect, of a country member who exclaimed, as Mr. Burke rose to speak with a paper in his hand, " I hope the gentleman does not mean to read that large bundle of pa- pers, and bore us with a speech into the bargain I" Mr. Burke was so much over- come, or rather suffocated with rage, that he was incapable of utterance, and rushed at once out of the House. " Never before," said Selwyn, " did I see the fable real- ized, of a lion put to flight by the braying of an ass." Such treatment soured his mind ; and as he advanced in years, he was sometimes betrayed into violent fits of passion before the House, which were a source of grief to his friends, and of increased insult from his enemies. Under all these discouragements, however, " Nitor in ad- versum" was still his motto. His public labors were such as no other man of the age could have performed. Besides his attendance on the House, he had nearly all the burden of carrying forward Mr. Hastings' impeachment ; involving charges more ^1 EDMUND BURKE. 227 complicated in their nature, and embracing a wider range of proof, than had ever been submitted to an English tribunal. Seven years were spent in this drudgery ; and it shows the unconquerable spirit of Mr. Burke, that he never once faltered, but brought his impeachment to a close with a dignity becoming his own character and the greatness of the interests involved. In thus reaching forward to the end of Mr. Hastings' trial, we have already en- tered on the third period of Mr. Burke's political life. As America Avas the leadmg object of interest in the first, and India in the second of these great divisions of his public labors, France and its portentous revolution occupied the third stage of his eventful career, and called forth, at the close of life, the most brilliant efforts of his genius. It is a striking fact, that Mr. Burke was the only man in England who re- garded the French Revolution of 1789, from its very commencement, with jealousy and alarm. Most of the nation hailed it with delight, and Mr. Pitt, no less than Mr. Fox, was carried away for a time in the general current of sympathy and admiration. But Mr. Burke, in writing to a friend only two months after the assembling of the States-General, expressed his fears of the result in the following terms : " Though I thought I saw something like this in progress for several years, it has something in it paradoxical and mysterious. The spirit it is impossible not to admire ; but the Paris- ian ferocity has broken out in a shocking manner. It is true this may be no more than a sudden explosion ; if so, no indication can be taken from it. But if it should be character rather than accident, the people are not Jit for liberty T A few months confirmed his worst apprehensions. The levity, rashness, and presumption which had so long characterized the French nation, gained a complete ascendency. The better class of men who shared in the early movement were at first set aside, and soon after driven away or murdered. The States-General, breaking up the original balance of the Constitution, resolved the three chambers into one, under the name of the National Assembly ; and the Third Estate, or Commons, became not only the sole legislative, but the sole governing power of the country. The galleries of that as- sembly were filled with a Parisian mob, which dictated to the representatives of the people the measures to be adopted. The sway of a ferocious populace became unre- strained. The King and Glueen were dragged in triumph from Versailles to Paris, where they were virtually held as prisoners from the first, in fearful expectation of the fate which ultimately befell them. All this took place within little more than three months I^" It may be said, however, that the Hevolution was at last productive of important benefits to France ; and some persons seem for this reason to have a vague impres- 1° The States-General resolved themselves into the National Assemhly on the 17th of .June, and the King and Queen were taken from Versailles to Paris on the 6th of October, 1789. The following extracts from the diary and correspondence of Mr. Gouverneur Morris, the Amer- ican minister at Paris during the early stages of the Revolution, show that his views of the French people at this time coincided with those of Mr. Burke. "There is one fatal principle which per- vades all ranks. lb is, a perfect indifference to the violation of engagements. Inconstancy is so min- gled in the blood, marrow, and very essence of this people, that, when a man of high rank and im- portance laughs to-day at what he seriously asserted yesterday, it is considered the natural order of things." — Sparks' Life of Morris, vol. ii., p. 68. It is not, therefore, wonderful, that Mr. Morris had no fiiith in the Revolution. He told Lafayette, in reference to the leaders of it, '' Their views re- specting this nation are totally inconsistent with the materials of which it is composed, and the worst thing which could possibly happen would be to grant their wishes." Lafayette acknowl- edged the fact. " He tells me he is sensible that his party are mad, and tells them so." — Vol. i., 314. At a later period, speaking of Lafayette as commander of the National Guards, he says, " La- fayette has marched [to Versailles] by compulsion, guarded by his own troops, who suspect and threaten him. Dreadful situation ! Obliged to do what he abhors, or suiTer an ignominious death, with the certainty that the sacrifice of his life will not prevent the mischief." — Vol. i., 327. Mr. Morris seems to have anticipated from the first, what happened at no very distant period, that La~ foyette would be obliged to flee from France, to escape the dagger of the assassin. 228 EDMUND BURKE. siou that Mr. Burke did WTong in opposing it. There is no doubt that this utter dis- ruption of society was the means of removing great and manifold abuses, just as the fire of London burned out the corruptions of centuries in the heart of that city. But no one hesitates, on this account, to condemn the spirit of the incendiary. It should also be remembered, that these benefits were not the natural or direct results of the rash spirit of innovation opposed by Mr. Burke. On the contrary, they were never experienced imtil the nation had fled for protection against that spirit, to one of the sternest forms of despotism. Nor can any one prove that the benefits in question could be purchased only at this terrible expense. Lafayette, at least, always maintained the contrary ; and the writer has reason to know that, in recommending Mignet's History of the Revolution to a friend as worthy of confidence, he made a distinct exception on this point, censuring in the strongest terms a kind of fatalism which runs through the pages of that historian, who seems to have regarded the whole series of crimes and mis- eries which marked that frightful convulsion, as the only possible means of doing away the evils of the old regime. But, even if this were so, who, at that early period, was to discover such a fact ? And who is authorized, at the present day, to speak slight- ingly of Mr. Burke as rash and wanting in sagacity, because, while his predictions were so many of them fulfilled to the very letter, an overruhng Providence brought good out of evil, in a way wdiich no human forecast could anticipate ? It should be remembered, too, that Mr. Burke never looked on the Revolution as an isolated fact, a mere struggle for power or for a new foiin of government, involving the interests of the French people alone. Considered in this light, he would have left it to take its course ; he would never probably have written a syllable on the subject. But an event of this kind could not fail to afTect the whole system of European politics, as a fire, breaking out in the heart of a forest, endangers the habitations of all who dwell on its borders. Whatever he said and wTote respecting France was, therefore, primarily intended for England. " Urit proximus Ucalegon," was his own account of his reasons for coming forward. " When- ever our neighbor's house is on fire, it can not be amiss for the engines to play a little on our own. Better be despised for too anxious apprehensions, than ruined by too con- fident a security." There were many in Great Britam who not only justified the early excesses of the Revolution, and exulted when they saw the King and Q.ueen of France led to prison by a mob, but significantly pomted to a repetition of similar scenes upon English ground. Dr. Price, in a sermon before the Constitutional Society, said, m respect to the Kmg of France, " led in triumph, and surrendering liimself to his sub- jects," " I am thankful that I have lived to see this period. I could almost say, ' Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart m peace, for mine eyes have seen thy sal- vation.' " When clergymen went so far, men of the world very naturally went farther. Societies were soon formed in London and the other large townis of the kingdom, "with the avowed purpose of obtaining political reformation by other means than those which the Constitution pointed out as legitimate. "^^ Some of them maintained a correspond- ence with the Jacobin clubs of Paris ; and, at a somewhat later period, five thousand persons belonging to the united societies of London, Manchester, and other places, held the following language, in a public address to the French National Assembly : " We are of opinion that it is the duty of every true Briton to assist, to the utmost of our power, the defenders of the rights of man, and to swear inviolable friendship to a na- tion which proceeds on the plan you have adopted. Frenchmen, you are already free, and Britons are pre2Mring to become soT^'^ It was under these circumstances, and ^^ Wade's British History, p. 551. ^2 It is stated in the London Christian Observer for 1807, which was edited at that time by Zachary Macaulay, Esq., father of the celebrated historian, " there seems to be but little doubt of the formation of a plan to raise aja insurrection in London about the close of 1792 or the beginning of 1793." EDMUND BURKE. 229 while such a spirit was beginning to prevail in the country, that Mr. Burke came for- ward to guard the people of England against the infection of principles which tended to such results. AAliatever may have been his eiTors at a later period, who will ques- tion \A'hether he was right in warning his countrymen against every thing that could engender a spirit of insurrection ? Without deciding whether the liberties of the people can ever be established on the Continent of Europe except by open rebellion, all will agree that nothing could be more disastrous to the cause of free principles than any attempts at reform in England by violence and bloodshed. The Revolution of 1688 has opened a new era on this subject. The progress of the English in throwing off the abuses which still belong to their political system, will take place hereafter in a series oi peaceful revolutions, like that of Parliamentary Reform in 1832. The right of pe- tition among such a people has more force than the bayonet. When they are once united in a good cause, neither the crown nor the peerage can stand before them. The first reference to the French Revolution on the floor of the House of Commons was made by Mr. Fox in a debate on the army estimates, February oth, 1790. He spoke of it m terms of eulogy and of high expectation, applaudhig especially the defec- tion of the French soldiery from their officers and government. "It is now known throughout all Europe," he said, "that a man, by becoming a soldier, does not cease to be a citizen." These last remarks were certainly unfortunate. Unqualified as they Avere, they might naturally be understood to recommend a similar course to British soldiers in the event of civil commotions. It was still more unfortunate that, when Colonel Phipps, who followed, reminded him of this, stating the entire difference be tween the situation of thmgs in England and France, and pointing, as a better exam- ple, to the conduct of the English troops during the London riots of 1760, " who pa- tiently submitted to insult, and, in defiance of provocation, maintained the laws of the realm, acting under the authority of the civil power," Mr. Fox did not instantly avail himself of the opportunity to explain his remarks, and guard them against such an ap- plication. On the contraiy, he remained silent ! In justice to Mr. Burke, this fact ought to be kept in view as we approach the period of his separation from Mr. Fox. The leader of the Whig party, if he expected the continued support of his adherents, was bound to free them from all imputations on a subject like this. Four days after, when the question came up again, Mr. Burke felt bound to. express his feelings at large, in view of Mr. Fox's remarks. In the course of his speech, he said, *' Since the House was prorogued in the summer, much work has been done in France. The French have shown themselves the greatest architects of I'uin that have hitherto existed in the world. In that very short space of time they have completely pulled down to the ground their monarchy, their Church, their nobility, their law, their revenue, their army, their navy, their com- merce, their arts, and their manufactures. They have done their business for us as rivals in a wav which twenty Ramillies and Blenheims could never have done. " In the last age we were in danger of being entangled by the example of France in a net of relentless despotism. That no longer exists. Our present danger arises from the example of a people whose character knows no medium. It is, with regard to government, a danger from an- archy — a danger of being led, through'admiration of successful fraud and violence, to imitation of the excesses of an irrational, unprincipled, proscribing, confiscating, plundering, ferocious, bloody, and tyrannical democracy. On the side of religion, the danger of their example is no longer in intolerance, but atheism — a foul, unnatural vice, foe to all the dignity and consolation of mankind, which seems in France, for a long time, to have been embodied into a faction, accredited and al- most avowed. These are our present dangers from France. "But the very worst part of the example set is, in the late assumption of citizenship by the ar- my, and the whole of the arrangement of their military. I am sorry that my right honorable friend has dropped even a word expressive of exultation on that circumstance. I attribute this opinion of Mr. Fox entirely to his own zeal for the best of all causes — liberty. It is with pain inexpressible I am obliged to have even a shadow of a difference with my friend, whose authority would be al- ways great with me and with all thinking people. My confidence in Mr. Fox is such and so am- ple as to be almost implicit. I am not ashamed to avow that degree of docility, for. when the choice is well made, it strengthens instead of oppressing our intellect. He who calls in the aid of an equal understanding doubles his own. He who profits of a superior understanding, raises 230 EDMUND BURKE. his power to a level with the height of the superior understanding he unites with. I have found the benefit of such a junction, and would not lightly depart from it. I wish almost on all occasions my sentiments were understood to be conveyed in Mr. Fox's words, and wish, among the greatest benefits I can wish the country, an eminent share of power to that right honorable gentleman, be- cause I know that to his great and masterly understanding he has joined the greatest possible degree of that natural moderation which is the best corrective of power. He is of the most artless, candid, open, and benevolent disposition ; disinterested in the extreme; of a temper mild and placable even to a fault, without one drop of gall in his whole constitution. The House must perceive, from my coming forward to mark an expression or two of my best friend, how anxious I am to keep the dis- temper of France from the least countenance in England, where some wicked persons have shown a strong disposition to recommend an imitation of the French spirit of reform. "I am so strongly opposed to any the least tendency toward the means of introducing a democ- racy like theirs, as well as to the end itself, that, much as it would afflict me if such a thing could be attempted, and that any friend of mine should concur in such measui'es, / would abandon my best friends ayid join ivith my ivorst enemies to oppose either the means or the end.'^^^ Mr. Fox replied in kind and respectful language, but he did not explain or mod- ify his expressions respecting the soldiery (referred to by Mr. Burke) in those full and explicit terms which the occasion seemed to require. He certainly looked for no re- forms in England, except through the regular channels provided by the Constitution. He ought, therefore, to have accepted the distinction suggested by Colonel Phipps, and declared at once, that whatever might be proper in France, the English soldiery ought not to turn upon their officers, or resist the civil magistrate. Such a decla- ration would have been useful in the excited state of the public mind at that period, and it seems to have been absolutely demanded by the shape which the question had assumed. Instead of this, he simply said, " He never would lend himself to support any cabal or scheme formed in order to introduce any dangerous innovation into our excellent Constitution" — language which was at least rather indefinite ; and de- clared as to the soldiery, that " when he described himself as exulting over the suc- cess of some of the late attempts in France, he certainly meant to pay a just tribute of applause to those who, feelingly alive to a sense of the oppressions under which their countrymen had groaned, disobeyed the despotic commands of their leaders, and gallantly espoused the cause of their fellow-citizens, in a struggle for the acquisition of that liberty, the sweets of which we all enjoyed." He said, also, that while he lamented the scenes of bloodshed and cruelty among the French, he thought these excesses should be " spoken of with some degree of compassion ;" and that he be- lieved " their present state, unsettled as it was, to be preferable to their former con- dition." Such views were so entirely different from those of Mr. Burke, that it was already apparent they could not act much longer in concert. Mr. Sheridan now came forward to widen the breach. His remarks are given very differently by different reporters. One of them represents him as charging Mr. Burke with " deserting from the camp ; with assaulting the principles of freedom itself; with defending despotism ; with loving to obtrude himself as the libeler of liberty, and the enemy of men laboring for the noblest objects of mankind." His language, as after- ward given in the Parliamentary History, is less harsh ; but, whatever may have beon his exact expressions, they were such as induced Mr. Burke to rise at once, and de- clare, in calm but indignant terms, that " such language ought to have been spared, were it only as a sacrifice to the ghost oi departed friendshi'p. The language itself was not new to him ; it was but a repetition of what was to be perpetually heard at the reforming clubs and societies with which the honorable gentleman had lately be- come entangled, and for whose plaudits he had chosen to sacrifice his friends, though he might in time find that the value of such praise was not worth the price at which it was purchased. Henceforward they tvere separated in politics forever T^"^ *^ Parliamentary History, vol. xxviii., p. 356. *'* Moore ascribes this to jealousy, a fault never before charged on Burke. Sheridan's habits were bad, and this made it easy for Burke to give him up. EDMUND BURKE. 231 This debate has been given at greater ]ength, because it was the immediate oc- casion of Mr. Burke's writing his work on the French Revolution, and more remotely of his separation from Mr. Fox and the Whig party. His breach with Mr. Sheridan put him on the defensive, and he at once determined to carry the question before the pubhc. Accordingly, in the month of November, 1790, he published his " Reflec- tions on the Revolution in France," in an octavo volume of four hundred pages. No political treatise in the English tongue has ever awakened so lively an interest, or met with so wide-spread and rapid a circulation. Thirty thousand copies were sold in Great Britain alone, at a time when the reading public embraced hardly a third of its present number. Some of the principles of this work, whether true or false, in regard to European society, can, of course, have no application to America, such as the necessity of an established Church, and the benefits of a titled aristoc- racy, which last is beautifully described as " the Corinthian capital" of the state. It must also be admitted that, in exposing the crimes of the revolutionists, Mr. Burke Avas betrayed into an error which his warmest admirers should be the first to acknowledge, since it arose from those generous sensibilities which are peculiarly liable to be misled. All Ms sympathies icere on one side. The horror he felt at the atrocities of the Revolution made him forget the wrongs by which it was oc- casioned. It led him to think too favorably of the immediate sufferers, to overlook, and even palliate their vices or crimes. He felt only for princes and nobles, and forgot the body of the people, who had for ages been held down by Feudalism in ig- norance, wretchedness, and degradation. The same feeling led him to defend in- stitutions which, under other circumstances, he would have regarded only- with ab- horrence. This accounts for his arguing so strenuously in favor of monastic estab- lishments, which the whole history of Europe has shown to be cancers on the body politic. It accounts, also, for his maintaining that the old regime was " a despo- tism rather in appearance than in reality," an assertion which w411 aM^aken the reader's astonishment just in proportion as he is acquainted with the history of France, and remembers the lettres de cachet, the corvee, the gabelle, and the thousand other instruments of tyranny, which had held the nation for centuries under the most grinding oppression. These one-sided views were the result of a peculiarity of mind in Mr. Burke which we have seen strikingly exemplified at a later period in Sir Walter Scott, that of looking with an excess of veneration upon every thing old. His prolific fancy covered all the early forms of society with romantic and ven- erable associations, so that abuses which would elsewhere have called forth his keen- est reprobation seemed to him in old governments, if not positive benefits, at least evils to be touched with a trembling hand, like the weaknesses of an aged parent. While we can not, for these reasons, give our sympathy or assent to every part of this volume, facts have shown that Mr. Burke was in the right far more than Mr. Fox as to the main point at issue, the character and prospects of the Revolution in France. Mr. Fox lived to see this, and when Lord Lauderdale once remarked in his presence, that Burke was a splendid madman, Mr. Fox replied, " It is difficult to say whether he is mad or inspired, but whether the one or the other, every one must agree that he is d. prophet.'' Lord Brougham observed at a much later period, "All his predictions, except one momentary expression [relative to the martial spirit of the French], have been more than fulfilled." And down to the present day (for the Revolution is still in progress), what has been the result of the experiments which the French have been making in government for the last sixty years ? They took refuge from their repubhc in a military despotism ; they received back one branch of the Bourbons and exchanged it for another ; they again tried a repubhc for a little more than three years ; and they have now submitted to the usurpation of another Bonaparte, as weak in intellect and despicable in character as the former one was 232 EDMUND BURKE. powerful and illustrious. In all this they have shown — and it was this, in reality, that Mr. Burke set out to inculcate — that a people who cast off the fear of God and are governed by impulse, not by fixed principle, who have extravagant hopes of re- generating society by a mere change of its outward forms, and have learned from a scoffing philosophy to despise those great original instincts of our nature and those finer sensibilities of the heart, which are the ultimate security of social order, can not, in the nature of things, be "fit for freedom." This was the real scope of Mr. Burke's " Reflections on the Revolution in France." He erred, indeed, in connecting these truths with church establishments and monarchical institutions, but the truths themselves were of imperishable value, not only for the age in which he wrote, but for all coming ages in that long struggle on which the world has entered for the es- tablishment of free institutions. In a literary view, there can be but one opinion of this work. Though desultory in its character, and sometimes careless or prolix in style, it contains more richness of thought, splendor of imagination, and beauty of diction than any volume of the same size in our language. Robert Hall has truly said, " Mr. Burke's imperial fanc}- has laid all nature under tribute, and has collected riches from every scene of the creation and every walk of art. His eulogium on the dueen of France is a master- piece of pathetic composition, so select in its images, so fraught with tenderness, and so rich with colors ' dipt in heaven,' that he who can read it without rapture may have merit as a reasoner, but must resign all pretensions to taste and sensibility." At the present day, however, when the topics discussed are no longer of any prac- tical importance, it is a book, like Milton's Paradise Lost, to be once resolutely gone through with by every literary man, and then read and re-read /or life in select pas- sages, which will awaken an ever-growing admiration of Mr. Burke for his compass of thought, his keen sagacity, his profound wisdom, his generous sentiments, his truth to nature and the best feelings of the heart. It is, indeed, the great peculiarity of his writings, that every reflecting man learns to estimate them more highly as he advances in knowledge and in years. We now come to the most painful event of Mr. Burke's life, except the loss of his son — his separation from Mr. Fox. After the emphatic declaration he had made before the House, that " he would abandon his best friends and join with his worst enemies" to oppose French principles, we should naturally expect that the Whigs would treat him with great tenderness and forbearance if they did not mean to drive him from their ranks, and especially w^ould not goad him on the subject, and provoke a quarrel, by bringing it up unnecessarily in debate. But such was the warmth and frankness of Mr. Fox, that whatever w^as upon his mind was on his tongue ; and as he was conscious of having only the kindest feelings toward Mr. Burke, and was slow to take offense himself, he seems never once to have dreamed that any liberties he might use could lead, by any possibility, to a breach between him and his old friend. He therefore expressed his dissent from the principles of Mr. Burke's work in the strongest terms ; and during a debate on the formation of a government for Canada he made a pointed allusion to certain well-known passages of the volume, speaking in a sarcastic manner of "those titles of honor the extinction of which some gentle- men so much deplored," and of "that sjnrit of chivalry which had fallen into dis- grace in a neighboring country." In a debate a few evenings after, he went out of his way to praise the new Constitution of France, declaring, with a direct reference to Mr. Burke's strictures on that instrument, " I for one admire the new Constitution, considered altogether, as the most glorious fabric ever raised hy human integrity since the creation of man .'" Mr. Burke instantly rose with visible emotion to give vent to his feelings, but his Whig friends interposed to prevent him ; the cry of " Question, question" became general throughout the House ; and as it was then EDMUND BURKE. 233 three o'clock in the morning, Mr. Burke at last gave way, and reserved himself for another occasion. Great efforts were now made by the Whigs to prevent Mr. Burke from coming out in reply ; but he felt himself pledged to the House and country ; it would look like cowardice, he said, to shrink from a contest which was thus provoked. Still he spoke kindly and with honor of Mr. Fox, and, at a private interview between them, " talked over the plan of all he intended to say, opened the different branches of his argu- ment, and explained the limitations which he meant to impose upon himself."^^ They then walked together to the House, and Mr. Fox took occasion almost immediately to say, that " he was extremely sorry to differ from any of his friends, but that he should never be backward in declaring his opinion, and that he did not wish to re- cede from any thing he had formerly said." This was generally considered as a di- rect challenge, if not a defiance of Mr. Burke, who was desirous instantly to reply ; but, finding that the House preferred to adjourn the question over the holidays, which were then commencing, he again postponed his remarks. When the recess was over and the Canada Bill came up (May Gth, 1791), Mr. Burke opened the debate. But the moment he touched on the French R.evolution, in reply to Mr. Fox, he was called to order by a friend of the latter, and Mr. Fox himself immediately interposed in a strain of the bitterest irony, remarking, " that his right honorable friend could hardly be said to be out of order. It seemed this was a day of privilege, when any gentleman might stand up, select his mark, and abuse any government he pleased. Although nobody had said a word on the subject of the French Revolution [sic f), his friend had risen up and abused that event. Every gentleman had a right that day to abuse the government of every country, whether ancient or modern, as much as he pleased, and in as gross terms as he thought proper, with his right honorable friend." A very extraordinary scene ensued. Mr. Burke attempted to explain and to discuss the question of order, but was continually inter- rupted from his own side of the House. Seven times were his remarks broken in upon by renewed calls of " order." Mr. Fox repeated his irony about " the gentle- man's right to discuss the Constitution of France ;" and when Mr. Pitt defended his old opponent, affirming that Mr. Burke, in examining the government proposed for Canada, had a right to draw his illustrations from that of France, Mr. Fox took the floor, and, after a series of very severe remarks, said that Mr. Burke had once told the House, in a speech on American affairs, that he did not know how to draw up a bill of indictment against a whole people, but " he had now learned to do it, and to crowd it with all the technicalities which disgraced our statute-book, such as ' false,' ' wicked,' ' by instigation of the devil,' &c. ; that no book his friend could cite, no words he could deliver in debate, however ingenious or eloquent, could induce him to change or abandon his opinions ; he differed on that subject with his right honor- able friend, toto ccclo."^'^ Mr. Burke now rose and made an extended reply, com- mencing in " a grave and governed tone of voice." Among other things, he remark- ed, that "his friend had treated him in every sentence with uncommon harshness," and " had endeavored to crush him at once by declaring a censure upon his whole life and opinions." " It was certainly an indiscretion," he said, " at any period, and especially at his time of life, to provoke enemies, or to give his friends occasion to de- sert him ; yet if his firm and steady adherence to the British Constitution placed him in this dilemma, he would risk all ; and as public duty and public prudence taught him, with his last words he would exclaim, 'Fly from the French Constitution.'" [Mr. Fox here whispered that " there was no loss of friends."] Mr. Burke replied, emphatically, " Yes, there is a loss of friends I I know the price of my conduct. I have done my duty at the price of my friend. Our fnejidshijj is at an end!''' Mr. 15 Annual Register, vol. xxxiii., p. 116. ^^ Parliamentary Flistory, vol. xxix., p. 38). 234 EDMUND BURKE. Fox rose in the utmost agitation, showing that he had never once suspected the ex- tremities to which he was driving Mr. Burke. " For some minutes he could not pro- ceed. Tears trickled down his cheeks, and he strove in vain to give utterance to his feelings." When at last he was able to speak, he adverted, in the most tender and generous terms, to their early friendship and his obligations to Mr. Burke, and expressed his hope " that, notwithstanding what had happened, his friend would think on past times, and, however any imprudent w^ords or intemperance of his might have offended him, it would show that it had not been, at least, intentionally his fault." Unfortunately, however, w'hen he came to reassert and defend his own views, he did it with some veiy pointed allusions to the former opinions of his friend, as inconsist- ent with, his present ones. This grated so harshly on Mr. Burke's feelings, that he remarked, in entering on his reply, that " the tenderness which had been displayed in the beginning and conclusion of Mr. Fox's speech had been quite obliterated by what had occurred in the middle." The breach w^as irreparable. They never met again except in public ; and even on his death-bed, Mr. Burke declined an interview which Mr. Fox solicited in the kindest terms, declaring, that " it had cost him the most heartfelt pain to obey the stern voice of duty in rending asunder a long friend- ship ; that his principles continued the same, and could be enforced o?ily by the gen- eral 2^Grsuasion of his sincerity ^ This last consideration appears to have governed him chiefly in breaking away from his old friend. It was not the irritability of his temper, as represented by Mr. Fox's adherents, nor was it mere wounded feeling, which time w^ould easily have assuaged ; it w^as a sense of duty (though carried, cer- tainly, to an extreme), which impelled him, with all the force of a religious senti- ment, to bear public testimony against one w^hose opinions he thought dangerous to the state ; like the aged apostle, wlio is said to have hurried from one of the public baths when he saw Cerinthus enter it, declaring that he would not remain for a mo- ment under the same roof with a man who inculcated such fatal errors. From this time Mr. Burke began to act with Mr. Pitt, and, though he never took office under his old opponent, his son, whom he had long been training for public life, had an important station assigned him in the government of Ireland. There is no page in the history of our English statesmen more full of tenderness and melancholy than that which records the disappointment of Mr. Burke in regard to this son. He was an only child, on whom all his parents' hopes were centered. In the prospect of a speedy retirement from public life, it was the last fond wash of the father that his son should take his place, especially as he was one who "had within him" (and would carry into the service of his country) " a salient, living spring of generous and manly action." "^e," as the father thought, " would have sup- plied every deficiency, and symmetrized every disproportion" in his own political life. No doubt he overrated his son's abilities, for he considered them greater than his own ; but there is the best evidence that Hichard Burke had not only a heart full of tenderness and generosity, but a finely-balanced mind, much knowledge, great firmness and decision, united to strict integrity and high moral principle. Without his father's suspecting it, his constitution had given way before his appointment to Ireland. He w-as sinking into consumption, and his physicians detained him from his post ; not daring, however, to apprise Mr. Burke of the danger, for they knew that, like the patriarch of old, " his life was bound up in the lad's life," and were convinced that a knowledge of the truth would prove fatal to him sooner than to his son. He was, therefore, kept in ignorance until a week before the closing scene, and from that time until all was over, " he slept not, he scarcely tasted food, or ceased from the most affecting lamentations." The last moments of young Burke present one of those striking cases in which nature seems to rally all her powers at the ap- proach of dissolution, as the taper often burns brightest in the act of going out. His EDMUiND BURKE. 235 parents were waiting his departure in an adjoining room (for they were unable to bear the sight), when he rose from his bed, dressed himself completely, and leaning on his nurse, entered the apartment where they were sitting. " Speak to me, my dear father," said he, as he saw them bowed to the earth under the poignancy of their grief "I am in no terror ; I feel myself better and in spirits ; yet my heart flutters, I know not why ! Pray talk to me — of religion — of morality — of indifferent subjects." Then turning, he exclaimed, "What noise is that? Does it rain? Oh no, it is the rusthng of the wind in the trees ;" and broke out at once, with a clear, sweet voice, in that beautiful passage (the favorite lines of his father) from the Morn- ing Hymn in Milton : His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye pines, With every plant in sign of worship wave ! He began again, and again repeated them with the same tenderness and fervor, bowing his head as in the act of worship, and then " sunk into the arms of his par- ents as in a profound and sweet sleep." It would be too painful to dwell on the scenes that followed, until the father laid all that remained to hi%i, of his child beneath the Beaconsfield church, adjoining his estate. From that hour he never looked, if he could avoid it, toward that church I Eighteen months after, when he had some- what recovered his composure, he thus adverted to his loss in his celebrated "Letter to a Noble Lord :" " The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered around me. I am stripped of all my honors ; I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth I There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the divine justice, and in some degree submit to it." " / am alone ! I have none to 7neet my e7iemies in the gate .'" The " Letter" referred to was called forth by an ungenerous attack from the Duke of Bedford, a young man who had just entered upon life. At the age of sixty-five, after devoting more than thirty years to the service of his country, Mr. Burke found himself oppressed with debts, arising chiefly from his kindness and liberality to indi- gent men of genius who sought his aid. This fact being known, a pension of £3600 a year was granted him in October, 1795, by the express order of the King, without the slightest solicitation of Mr. Burke or his friends. The Duke of Bedford, who had become infected with French principles in politics and religion, made a very offens- ive allusion to this grant in a debate soon after, and has immortalized his name (the only way he could ever have done it) by the castigation which he thus provoked. Of this "Letter" Mr. Mathias says, in his "Pursuits of Literature," "I perceive in it genius, ability, dignity, imagination ; sights more than youthful poets when they dreamed ; and sometimes the philosophy of Plato and the wit of Lucan." Within less than a year, Mr. Burke commenced his last work, being " Thoughts on the Prospect of a Regicide Peace," which came out in three successive letters in 1796-7. His object was to animate his countrymen to a zealous prosecution of the contest Avith France, and he now brought out with astonishing ingenuity and elo- quence those extreme principles respecting a war with the French Republic which constituted the chief error of his life. In his "Reflections" he dwelt mainly on the rashness of the French in their experiments upon government, as a warning to his own countrymen against repeating the error. He now took the ground of shutting France out from the society of nations ! " This pretended republic is founded in crimes, and exists by wrong and robbery ; and wrong and robbery, far from giving a title to any thing, is a war with mankind." War, therefore, to the utmost and to the end, was the only measure to be pursued with the French Republic ! " To be at peace with robbery," said he, " is to be an accomplice with it !" It seems won- derful how a man like Burke could have fallen into this confusion of ideas between 236 EDMUND BURKE. the crimes of individuals against the community in which they live, and the acts of an organized government, hoM^ever wrongly constituted, and however cruel or op- pressive in the treatment of those within its borders. If the Republic robbed England or her subjects, there was just ground of war. But if the internal policy of a gov- ernment — its crimes (however great) against those who live under it — can justify an attack from surrounding nations, what government in Europe could escape ? or what would Europe itself be but a field of blood ? The principle of Mr. Burke was that on which Austria and Prussia sent the Duke of Brunswick, in 1792, to invade France. And what was the consequence ? Prostrate as she was — broken down so completely in her military spirit and resources, that Mr. Burke seemed justified in his famous sarcasm, " Gallos quoque in bellis floruisse audivimus," we have heard that the French were once distinguished in war — France, in a little more than a month, chased every foreign soldier from her borders ; the Republican leaders learned the art of composing every dissension by turning the passions of the people into a rage for foreign conquest, until seven hundred and fifty thousand men stood ready to carry their principles throughout Europe by fire and sword ; and, what was worse than all, the sympathy of the friends of freedom in every country on the Continent was turned against their own governments, and given for a time with the warmest zeal and confidence to this republic of blood. Still, Mr. Burke adhered to his principle. His only inference from the disasters of the allies was, that they had used means which were shamefully inadequate to the occasion ; that all they had done or at- tempted was only like " pelting a volcano with pebble stones ;" and that the whole of Europe ought to combine in one grand confederacy to " let loose the ministers of vengeance in famine, fever, plagues, and death upon a guilty race, to whose frame, and to all whose habit, order, peace, rehgion, and virtue were ahen and abhorrent." It is remarkable that this was the only subject on which Mr. Burke was ever be- trayed into extreme opinions. Though many have thought otherwise from looking exclusively at this period of his life, his whole history shows that he was pre-emi- nently a man of cautious and moderate views. Lord Brougham has truly said, "It would be difl[icult to find any statesman of any age whose opinions were more ha- bitually marked by moderation ; by a constant regard to the dictates of an enlarged reason ; by a fixed determination to be practical at the time he was giving scope to the most extensive general views ; by a cautious and prudent abstinence from all extremes. He brought this spirit of moderation into public affairs with him ; and if we except the very end of his life, when he had ceased to live much in public, it stuck by him to the last." And why did it now desert him ? Because, apparently, the dangers of the French Revolution, magnified by his powerful imagination, turned his caution into terror ; and all experience shows that nothing is so rash, so head- long, so cruel even, as extreme terror when it takes full possession of a vigorous and determined intellect. Even our virtues in such cases go to swell our excesses ; and we thus see how a man of Mr. Burke's justice, humanity, and love of genuine freedom, could become the advocate of war upon principles which would make it eternal, and be led to justify that doctrine of intervention, which absolute governments have ever since been using to arrest the progress of liberal institutions in the world. Before he had finished his " Regicide Peace," Mr. Burke found his health rapidly declining, and in February, 1797, he removed to Bath to try the effect of its waters. But his constitution was gone ; and after remaining there three months, confined almost entirely to his bed, he made a last effort to return to Beaconsfield, that his bones might there rest with those of his son. " It will be so far, at least," said he, "on my way to the tomb, and I may as well travel it alive as dead !" During the short period that remained to him of life, he gave directions with the utmost calm- ness about the disposal of his papers ; he bore his sufferings with placid resignation, EDMUND BURKE. 237 hoping for divine mercy through the intercession of the E.edeemer, which, in his own words, he " had long sought with unfeigned humiliation, and to which he looked Avith trembling hope." He died on the 9th of July, 1797, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the same grave with his son. It was the wish of his friends, and even proposed by Mr. Fox in the House of Commons, that he should be buried in Westminster Abbey, but the plan was aban- doned when the provisions of his will were made known. Pains have been taken in this memoir to bring out the most striking qualities of Mr. Burke's mind in connection with the principal events of his life, and thus to avoid the necessity of an extended summation at the close. He was what the Ger- mans would call a " many-sided man," so that any general analysis of his character must of necessity be imperfect. We can form a correct estimate of most orators from three or four of their best speeches, but fully to know Mr. Burke one must take into view all that he ever spoke, all that he ever wrote. As an orator he derived little or no advantage from his personal qualifications. He was tall, but not robust ; his gait and gesture were awkward ; his countenance, though intellectual, was destitute of softness, and rarely relaxed into a smile ; and as he always wore spectacles, his eye gave him no command over an audience. " His enunciation," says Wraxall, "was vehement and rapid ; and his Irish accent, which was as strong as if he had never quitted the banks of the Shannon, diminished to the ear the effect of his eloquence on the mind." The variety and extent of his powers in debate was greater than that of any other orator in ancient or modern times. No one ever poured forth such a flood of thought — so many original combinations of inventive genius ; so much knowledge of man and the working of political systems ; so many just remarks on the relation of gov- ernment to the manners, the spirit, and even the prejudices of a people ; so many wise maxims as to a change in constitutions and laws ; so many beautiful effusions of lofty and generous sentiment ; such exuberant stores of illustration, ornament, and apt allusion ; all intermingled with the liveliest sallies of wit or the boldest flights of a sublime imagination. In actual debate, as a contemporary informs us, he passed more rapidly from one exercise of his powers to another, than in his printed produc- tions. During the same evening, sometimes in the space of a few moments, he would be pathetic and humorous, acrimonious and conciliating, now giving vent to his in- dignant feelings in lofty declamation, and again, almost in the same breath, convuls- ing his audience by the most laughable exhibitions of ridicule or burlesque. In respect to the versatility of Mr. Burke as an orator. Dr. Parr says, " Who among men of el- oquence and learning was ever more profoundly versed in every branch of science ? Who is there that can transfer so happily the results of laborious research to the most familiar and popular topics ? AYho is there that possesses so extensive yet so accurate an acquaintance with every transaction recent or remote ? Who is there that can deviate from his subject for the purposes of delight with such engaging ease, and insensibly conduct his hearers or readers from the severity of reasoning to the festivity of wit ? Who is there that can melt them, if the occasion requires, with such resistless power to grief or pity ? Who is there that combines the charm of in- Ckable grace and urbanity with such magnificent and boundless expansion?" A prominent feature in the character of Mr. Burke, which prepared him for this de exercise of his powers, was intellectual independence. He leaned on no other man's understanding, however greatT'^^'In'Tlie true^nse^f the term, he never bor- rowed an idea or an image. Like food in a healthy system, every thing from with- out was perfectly assimilated ; it entered by a new combination into the very struc- ture of his thoughts, as when the blood, freshly formed, goes out to the extremities under the strong pulsations of the heart. On most subjects, at the present day, this 238 EDMUND BURKE. is all we can expect o^ originality ; the thoughts and feelings which a man expresses must be truly his oivn.^ In the structure of nis mind he had a strong resemblance to Bacon, nor Avas he greatly his inferior in the leading attributes of his intellect. In imagination he went far beyond him. He united more perfectly than any other man the discordant qual- ities of the philosopher and the poet, and this union was equally the source of some of his greatest excellencies and faults as an orator. The first thing that strikes us in a survey of his understanding is its remarkable comprehensiveness. He had an amplitude of mind, a power and compass of intel- lectual vision, beyond that of most men that ever lived. He looked on a subject like a man standing upon an eminence, taking a large and rounded view of it on every side, contemplating each of its parts under a vast variety of relations, and those re- lations often extremely complex or remote. To this wide grasp of original thought he added every variety of information gathered from abroad. There was no subject on which he had not read, no system relating to the interests of man as a social being which he had not thoroughly explored. All these treasures of acquired knowl- edge he brought home to amplify and adorn the products of his own genius, as the ancient Romans collected every thing that was beautiful in the spoils of conquered nations, to give new splendor to the seat of empire. To this largeness of view he added a surprising subtlety of intellect. So quick and delicate were his perceptions that he saw his way clearly through the most complicated relations, following out the finest thread of thought without once letting go his hold, or becoming lost or perplexed in the intricacies of the subject. This subtlety, however, did not usually take the form of mere logical acuteness in the detection of fallacies. He was not remarkable for his dexterity as a disputant. He loved rather to build up than to pull down ; he dwelt not so much on the differences of things, as on some hidden agreement between them when apparently most dis- similar. The association of resemblance was one of the most active principles of his nature. While it filled his mind with all the imagery of the poet, it gave an im- pulse and direction to his researches as a philosopher. It led him, as his favorite employment, to trace out analogies, correspondencies, or contrasts (which last, as Brown remarks, are the necessary result of a quick sense of resemblance) ; thus filling up his originally comprehensive mind with a beautiful series of associated thoughts, showing often the identity of things which appeared the most unlike, and binding together in one system what might seem the most unconnected or contra- dictory phenomena. To this he added another principle of association, still more characteristic of the philosopher, that oi cause and effect. "Why?" "Whence?" '• By what means ?" "For what end ?" " With what results ?" these questions from childhood were continually pressing upon his mind. To answer them in respect to man in all his multiplied relations as the creature of society, to trace out the work- ing of political institutions, to establish the principles of wise legislation, to lay open the sources of national security and advancement, was the great object of his life ; and he here found the widest scope for that extraordinary subtlety of intellect of which we are now speaking. In the two principles just mxcntioned, we see the ori- gin of Mr. Burke's inexhaustible richness of invention. We see, also, how it was that in his mode of viewing a subject there was never any thing ordinary or common- place. If the topic was a trite one, the manner of presenting it was peculiarly his own. As in the kaleidoscope, the same object takes a thousand new shapes and col- ors under a change of light, so in his mind the most hackneyed theme was trans- formed and illuminated by the radiance of his genius, or placed in new relations which gave it all the freshness of original thought. This amplitude and subtlety of intellect, in connection with his peculiar habits of EDMUND BURKE. 239 association, prepared the way for another oharacteristic of Mr. Burke, his remarkable poiver of generalization. Without this he might have been one of the greatest of poets, but not a philosopher or a scientific statesman. " To generalize," says Sir James Mackintosh, " is to philosophize ; and comprehension of mind, joined to the habit of careful and patient observation, forms the true genius of philosophy." But it was not in his case a mere " habit," it was a kind of instinct of his nature, which led him to gather all the results of his thinking, as by an elective affinity, around their appropriate centers ; and, knowing that truths are valuable just in proportion as they have a wider reach, to rise from particulars to generals, and so to shape his statements as to give them the weight and authority of universal propositions. His philosophy, however, was not that of abstract truth ; it was confined to things in the concrete, and chiefly to man, society, and government. He was no metaphysician ; he had, in fact, a dislike, amounting to weakness, of all abstract reasonings in poli- tics, affirming, on one occasion, as to certain statements touching the rights of man, that just " in proportion as they were metaphysically true, they were morally and politically false I" He was, as he himself said, " a philosopher in action f' his gen- eralizations embraced the great facts of human society and political institutions as aflected by all the interests and passions, the prejudices and frailties of a being like man. The impression he made was owing, in a great degree, to the remoteness of the ideas which he brought together, the startling novelty and yet justness of his combinations, the heightening power of contrast, and the striking manner in which he connected truths of imperishable value with the individual case before him. It is here that we find the true character and office of Mr. Burke. He was the man of prin- ciples ; one of the greatest teachers of" civil prudence" that the world has ever seen. A collection of maxims might be made from his writings infinitely superior to those of Rochefoucauld ; equally true to nature, and adapted, at the same time, not to pro- duce selfishness and distrust, but to call into action all that is generous, and noble, and elevated in the heart of man. His high moral sentiment and strong sense of religion added greatly to the force of these maxims; and, as a result of these fine generalizations, Mr. Burke has this peculiarity, which distinguishes him from every other writer, that he is almost equally instructive whether he is right or wrong as to the particular point in debate. He may fail to make out his case ; opposing consid- erations may induce us to decide against him ; and yet every argument he uses is full of instruction : it contains great truths, which, if they do not turn the scale here, may do it elsewhere ; so that he whose mind is filled with the maxims of Burke has within him not only one of the finest incentives of genius, but a fountain of the rich- est thought, which may flow forth through a thousand channels in all the efforts of his own intellect, to whatever subject those effbrts may be directed. "With these qualities and habits of mind, the oratory of Mr. Burke Avas of necessity didactic. His speeches were lectures, and, though often impassioned, enlivened at one time with wit, and rising at another into sublimity or pathos, they usually be- came wearisome to the House from their minuteness and subtlety, as " He went on refining, And thought of convincing while they thought of dining." We see, then, in the philosophical habits of his mind (admirable as the results were in most respects), why he spoke so often to empty benches, while Fox, by seizing on the strong points of the case, by throwing away intermediate thoughts, and striking at the heart of the subject, never failed to carry the House with him in breathless attention. His metJwd was admirable, in respect at least to his published speeches. No man ever bestowed more care on the arrangement of his thoughts. The exceptions to this remark are apparent, not real. There is now and then a slight irregularity 240 EDMUND BURKE. in his mode of transition, which seems purposely thrown in to avoid an air of same- ness ; and the subordinate heads sometimes spread out so widely, that their connec- tion with the main topic is not always obvious. But there is reigning throughout the whole a massive unity of design like that of a great cathedral, whatever may be the intricacy of its details. In his rcasoiiings (for he was one of the greatest masters of reason in our language, though some have strangely thought him deficient in this respect) Mr. Burke did not usually adopt the outward forms of logic. He has left us, indeed, some beautiful spec- imens of dialectical abihty, but his arguments, in most instances, consisted of the am- plest enumeration and the clearest display of all the facts and principles, the analogies, relations, or tendencies which were applicable to the case, and were adapted to settle it on the immutable basis of the nature and constitution of things. Here again he appeared, of necessity, more as a teacher than a logician, and hence many were led to underrate his argumentative powers. The exuberance of his fancy was likewise prejudicial to him in this respect. ^TMen are apt to doubt the solidity of a structure which is covered ail -over with flowers. > As to this pecuharity of his eloquence, Mr. Fox truly said, "It injures his reputation ; it casts a vail over his wisdom. Reduce his language, withdraw his images, and you will find that he is more wise than elo- quent ; you will have your full weight of metal though you melt down the chasing." In respect to Mr. Burke's imagery, however, it may be proper to remark, that a large part of it is not liable to any censure of this kind ; many of his figures are so finely wrought into the texture of his style, that w^ hardly think of them as figures at all. His great fault in other cases is that of giving them too bold a relief, or dwelling on them too long, so that the primary idea is lost sight of in the image. Sometimes the prurience of his fancy makes him low and even filthy. He is like a man depicting the scenes of nature, who is not content to give us those features of the landscape that delight the eye, but fills out his canvas with objects which are coarse, disgusting, or noisome. Hence no writer in any language has such extremes of imagery as Mr. Burke, from his picture of the dueen of France, " glittering hke the morning star, full of life, and splendor, and joy," or of friendship, as " the soft green of the soul, on which the eye loves to repose," to Lord Chatham's administration "pigging together in the same truckle-bed," and Mr. Dundas, with his East India bills, " exposed like the imperial sow of augury, lying in the mud with the prodigies of her fertility about her, as evidences of her delicate amours." His language, though copious, was not verbose. Every word had its peculiar force and application. His chief fault was that of overloading his sentences with second- ary thoughts, which weakened the blow by dividing it. His style is, at times, more careless and inaccurate than might be expected in so great a writer. But his mind was on higher things. His idea of a truly fine sentence, as once stated to a friend, is worthy of being remembered. It consists, said he, in a union of thought, feeling, and imagery — of a striking truth and a corresponding sentiment, rendered doubly striking by the force and beauty of figurative language. There are more sentences of this kind in the pages of Mr. Burke than of any other writer. In conclusion, we may say, without paradox, since oratory is only one branch of the quality we are now considering, that while Mr. Burke was inferior as an orator to Lord Chatham and Mr. Fox, he has been surpassed by no one in the richness and splendor of his eloquence ; and that he has left us something greater and better than aU eloquence in his countless lessons of moral and civil wisdom. SPEECH OF MR. BURKE ON AMERICAN TAXATION, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, APRIL 9, 1774. INTRODUCTION. The measures of the different British ministers respecting American taxation, from the passing of the Stamp Act in 1765 to the repeal of all taxes except that on tea in 1770, have been detailed already, in con- nection with the speeches of Lord Chatham. Lord North's policy in respect to America was arbitrary and fluctuating. It was well described by a contemporary writer as " a heterogeneous mixture of concession and coercion ; of concession not tending to conciliate, and of coercion that could not be earned into exe- cution — at once exciting hatred for the intention and contempt for the weakness." After the destraction of the tea in the harbor of Boston, violent measures prevailed. In March, 1774, laws were passed depriv- ing Massachusetts of her charter, and closing the port of Boston against all commerce. Some, however, who had supported Lord North in these measures, thought they should be accompanied by an act indica- tive of a desire to conciliate. Accordingly, Mr. Rose Fuller, of Rye, who usually voted with the ministry, moved on the 19th of April, 1774, "that the House resolve itself into a committee of the whole House, to take into consideration the duty of threepence per pound on tea, payable in all his Majesty's dominions in America," with a view to repealing the same. Mr. Burke seconded the proposal, and sustained it in the following speech. The unfavoi-able circumstances under which he commenced, and the complete mastery which he soon gained over his audience, have been already described. The applause so lavishly be- stowed upon this speech was richly merited. No one had ever been delivered in the Parliament of Great Britain so full at once of deep research, cogent reasoning, cutting sarcasm, graphic description, profound political wisdom, and fervid declamation. Lord Chatham alone had surpassed it in glowing and impas- sioned eloquence. In discussing the subject, Mr. Burke confined himself to the single question, " Ought the tax on tea to be abandoned, and with it the entire scheme of raising a parliamentary' revenue out of the colonies?" The measure had been popular throughout all England, except in a few commercial cities ; and, whether wisely adopted or not, there were strong objections to an abandonment of the system while America remained in the attitude of open resistance. Instead of reserving these objections to be answered in form at the close of the main argument, Mr. Burke disposes of them at once in a preliminary head, under what he calls " the narrow" view of the subject; i. e , the mere question oi repeal. Here he obviates the dilBculties referred to; not speaking to the several points, however, under the name of objections, but rather turning the ta- bles on Lord North with admirable dexterity, and showing that by his previous concessions he had him- self opened the way for an immediate and entire repeal. Mr. Burke next enters on his main argument by giving a historical sketch of the colonial system of England from the passing of the Navigation Act in 1651. He shows that this system did not originally contemplate any direct taxation of the colonies. He traces the steps by which the scheme of obtaining a revenue from America was introduced and modified; sketches the character of the men concerned ; and urges a return to the original principles of the Naviga- tion Act, as the only means of restoring peace to the empire. It would be difiicult to find any oration, ancient or modern, in which the matter is more admirably ar- ranged. The several parts support each other, and the whole forms a complete system of thought. The sketches of Mr. Grenville, Mr. Townsend, Lord Chatham, and his administration, are not strictly excres- cences, though it would be unsafe for any man less gifted than Mr. Burke to arrest the progress of the dis- cussion, and conduct the audience through such a picture-gallery of statesmen. They do, in one sense, form a part of the argument; for it was the character of the men that decided the character of the meas- ures, and showed how England had been led to adopt a system which ought forever to be abandoned. Even the glowing picture of General Conway's reception by "the trading interest," as they "jumped upon him like children on a long-absent father," and " clung upon him as captives about their redeemer," when he carried through the repeal of the Stamp Act, adds force to the argument, for it shows how Amer- ican taxation was regarded by those who were best infonned on the subject. The language of this speech is racy and pungent. It is nowhere so polished or rounded off as to lose its sharpness. The folly of American taxation is exposed in the keenest tenns, from the opening paragraph, where the House is spoken of as having, "for nine long years," been "lashed round and round this mis- erable circle of occasional arguments and temporary expedients," to the closing sentence, in which Mr. Burke tells the ministry, "Until you come back to that system [the system of the Navigation Act], there will be no peace for England." * Q 242 MR. BURKE ON [1774. SPEECH, &c. Sir, — I agree with the honorable gentleman^ who spoke last, that this subject is not new in this House. Very disagreeably to this House, very unfortunatel}'^ 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 ev- ery 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 honorable gentleman has made one en- deavor more to diversify the form of this disgust- ing argument. He has thrown out a speech com- posed almost entirely of challenges. Challenges are serious things ; and, as he is a man of pru- dence 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 honorable gentleman on all the American questions. My sentiments, I am sure, are well known to him ; and I thought I had been per- fectly acquainted with his. Though I find my- self mistaken, he w^ill 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 opin- ions which I have formed upon a matter of im- portance enough to demand the fullest consider- ation I could bestow upon it. He has stated to the House two grounds of Two modes deliberation, one narrow and simple, of discussion, g^nd merely confined to the question on your paper; the other more large and compli- cated ; comprehending the whole series of the parliamentary proceedings with regard to Amer- ica, their causes, and their consequences. With regard to the latter ground, he states it as use- less, and thinks it may be even dangerous to en- ter into so extensive a field of inquiry. Yet, to my surprise, he has hardly laid down this restrictive proposition, to which bis 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 am- ple historical detail. His zeal has thrown him a little out of his usual accuracy. In this perplex- ity, what shall we do, sir, who are willing to sub- mit 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 narrow- ing the ground for all those who are to speak after him, he takes an excursion himself, as un- 1 Chas. Wolfran Cornwall, Esq., one of the Lords of the Treasury, and afterward Speaker of the House of Commons. bounded as the subject and the extent of his great abilities. Sir, when I can not obey all his laws, I will do the best I can. I will endeavor to obey such of them as have the sanction of his view the example; and to stick to that rule, p'°p"°°^- which, though not consistent with the other, is the most rational. He was certainly in the right when he took the matter largely. I can not prevail on myself to agree with him in his censure of his ow^n conduct. It is not, he will give me leave to say, either useless or danger- ous. He asserts that retrospect is not wnse ; and the proper, the only proper subject of in- quiry 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 experience. The mode of deliberation he recommends is diametri- cally opposite to every rule of reason, and every principle of good sense established among man- kind ; for that sense and that reason I have al- ways understood absolutely to prescribe, when- ever we are involved in difficulties from the measures we have pursued, that we should take a strict review of those measures, in order to cor- rect 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 wull freely follow the honorable gentle- man in his historical discussion, without the least management for men or measures, farther than as they shall seem to me to deserve it. But be- fore I go into that large consideration, because I would omit nothing that can give the House satisfaction, I wish to tread, I. The NARROW GROUND, to which alone the honorable gentleman, in one part of his objections to speech, has so strictly confined us. "'® '"'^p''^- (1.) He desires to know w^hether, if we were to repeal this tax agreeably to the ^;„ ^^^ ^^^^ proposition of the honorable gentle- Americans de- man who made the motion, the Amer- " "^°^^' icans would not take post on this concession, in order to make a new attack on the next body of taxes ; and whether they w^ould not call for a re peal of the duty on wnnc 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 de- manded. To the experience which the honora- ble gentleman reprobates in one instant and re verts to in the next ; to that experience, w^ithout 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 wiiich the House is to conclude this day ! 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 1774.] AMERICAN TAXATION. 243 of the articles which compose it.^ I affirm, also, that when, departing from the maxims of that re- peal, you revived the scheme of taxation, and thereby filled the mind.s of the colonists with new jealousy, and all sorts of apprehension, then it was that they quarreled 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. Of 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 newspapers, 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 conse- quences which the honorable gentleman who de- , fends their measures is so much alai-med 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 Parlia- ment ; not on any general reasoning growing out of collateral matter, but on the conduct of the honorable gentleman's ministerial friends on the new revenue itself. The act of 1767, which grants this tea duty, sets forth in its pi-eamble that it was expedient to raise a revenue in America for the support of the civil government there, as well as for pur- poses still more extensive. To this support the act assigns six branches of duties. About two years after this act passed, the ministry — I mean the present ministry — thought it expedient to re- peal five of the duties, and to leave, for reasons best knowa to themselves, only the sixth stand- ing. Suppose any person, at the time of that repeal, had thus addressed the minister :^ " Con- demning, as you do, the repeal of the Stamp Act, why do you venture to repeal the duties upon glass, paper, and painters' colors ? Let your pretense for the repeal be what it will, are you not 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 im- politic as it has been represented), and the mis- chiefs it produced, w^ere quite recent. Upon the principles, therefore, of the honorable gentleman, upon the principles of the minister himself, the minister has nothing at all to answer. He stands 2 There is reason to believe that the colonies would not have made any opposition to duties im- posed for the mere regulation of trade. 3 Lord North, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, was minister at the time of this repeal, March 5th, 1770. condemned by himself, and by all his as.sociates, old and new, as a destroyer, in the first trust of finance, in the revenues ; and in the first rank of honor, 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 mis- chiefs which give so much alarm to his honora- ble friend. His work was not bad in its princi- ple, but imperfect in its execution ; and the mo- tion on your paper presses him only to complete a proper plan, which, by some unfortunate and unaccountable error, he had left unfinished. I hope, sir, the honorable gentleman who spoke last is thoroughly satisfied, and satisfied out of the proceedings of the ministry on their own favorite 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 repeal- ers, because he is the last.^ (2.) But I hear it continually rung in my cars, now and formerly, " the preamble ! „. „ •11 1 r ^ 1 1 •(. ^^i"consi8t- what will become of the preamble, if enry permit 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 di- rect 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 ex- press 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 ancient 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 favorite preamble. [It was read in the following words : " Whereas it is expedient that a revenue should be raised in j^our Majesty's dominions in America, for making a more certain and adequate provision for defraying the charge of the admin- istration of justice and support of civil govern- ment in such provinces where it shall be found necessary, and toward farther defraying the ex- penses 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 forever. Does * The pungency of this argumeyitum ad hominem is increased by the ingenious turn given to it by Mr. Burke, that he is defending Lord North against his own friends and adherents. 244 MR. BURKE ON [1774 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 re- pealed — and the reasons of the grant still care- fully kept up ! This is raising a revenue in America ! This is preserving dignity in En- gland ! 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 re- cital. It has been said again and again, that the five Pretense that taxcs wcrc repealed on commercial those taxes principles. It is so said in the paper were repealed ,, . on commercial in my hand^ — a paper which I con- stantly carry about, which I have oft- en used, and shall often use again. What is got by this paltry pretense of commercial principles I know not ; for, if your government in America is destroyed by the repeal of taxes, it is of no con- sequence upon what ideas the repeal is ground- ed. Repeal this tax, too, upon commercial prin- ciples, if you 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 pretense never could remove it. This com- mercial 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 de- ceive. It was impossible it should ; because ev- ery man, in the least acquainted with the detail of commerce, must know, that several of the ar- ticles on which the tax was repealed were fitter objects of duties than almost any other articles that could possibly be chosen ; without compari- son moi-e 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 na- ture. 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 contra- band trade, who ever heard of the smuggling of red lead and white lead ? You might, there- fore, well enough, without danger of contraband, and without injury to commerce (if this were the whole consideration), have taxed these commodi- ties. 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 an- nihilation out of American commerce, would have been comparatively as nothing. But is the arti- cle of tea such an object in the trade of England as not to be felt, or felt but slightly, like white 5 Lord Hillsborough's circular letter to the gov- ernors of the colonies concerning the repeal of some of the duties laid in the act of 176" lead, and red lead, and painters' colors ? Tea is an object of far other importance. Tea is per- haps the most important object, taking it with its necessary connections, of any in the mighty cir- cle of our commerce. If commercial principles had been the true motives to the repeal, or had they been at all attended to, tea tvould 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 in- structive 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 in- terests in one connected view. They have taken things by bits and scraps, some at one time and one pretense, and some at another, just as they pressed, without any sort of regard to their rela- tions or dependencies. They never had any kind of system, right or wrong, but only invented oc- casionally some miserable tale for the day, in or- der 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 pilfer piecemeal a re- peal of an act which they had not the generous courage, when they found and felt their error, honorably and fairly to disclaim. By such man- agement, by the irresistible operation of feeble counsels, so paltry a sum as threepence 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 a general xue wants of bankruptcy ? deed great. You were distressed the affairs of the East India Company ; and you well know w^hat sort of things are involved in the comprehensive energy of that significant appella- tion. 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 Your danaer was in- l^^.tplny forbid the tax. 6 Mr. Burke here pauses for a moment in the prog- ress of his argument, to give us one of those fine gen- eralizations with which he so often strengthens and dignifies his discussion of a particular point, by ris- ing to some broader truth with which it is connected. The stinging force of his imagery in some parts, and the beauty of it in others, are worthy of attention. In the next paragraph he puts the argument on a new ground, viz., that the wants of the East India Company ought to have prevented a quarrel about tea with the colonies, which would have furnished an immense market, if they had not been led to com- bine against the use of it by abhorrence of the tax : he then returns to the subject of the preamble. 1774.] AMERICAN TAXATION. 245 operation of an injudicious tax, and i-otting in the warehouses of the Company, would have pre- vented all this distress, and all that series of des- perate measures which you thou^jht yourselves obliged to take in consequence of it. America would have furnished that vent, which no oth- er 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 countr}'. It is through the American trade of tea that your East India conquests are to be prevented from crushing you with their burden. They are ponderous indeed ; and they must have that gi'eat 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 con- traband, and will be the means of giving the prof- its of the trade of your colonies to every nation but 3'ourselves. 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 rev- enue not as yet known in all the comprehensive, but too comprehensive ! vocabulary of finance — a preambulary tax. It is, indeed, a tax of soph- istry, 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 sub- ject. (3.) Well ! but, w^hatever it is, gentlemen will » ,, ,, force the colonists to take the teas. uuglit so small a tax to be com- You will forcc them ? Has seven plained of? , - , ^ ^ i> years struggle been yet able to lorce them ? O, but it seems we are yet 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 drawback here, it is threepence 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 }'ou 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 liti- gation, and possibly through war. The manner of proceeding in the duties on Shown to be paper and glass imposed by the same TTri^factti'.^ act, was exactly in the same spirit, it i3 small. There are heavy excises on those ar- ticles when used in England. On export, these excises are drawn back. But instead of with- holding the drawback, which might have been done, with ease, without charge, without possi- bility of smuggling ; and instead of applyinof the money (money already in your hands) according to your pleasure, you began your operations in finance by flinging away your revenue ; you al- lowed the whole drawback on export, and then you charged the duty (which you had before dis- charged) payable in the colonies, where it was certain the collection would devour it to the bone, if any revenue were ever suffered to be collected at all. One spirit pervades and ani- mates 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 interest mere- ly for the sake of insulting your colonies ? No man ever doubted that the commodity of tea could bear an imposition of threepence. But no commodity will bear threepence, or will bear a penny, when the general feelings of men are ir- ritated, 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. Hamp- den's fortune ? No ! but the payment of half twenty shillings, on the principle it was demand- ed, 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 meas- ure, and nothing else, that we ai-e 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 [March, 1770], which takes away that revenue, contra- dicts the act of 1767 ; and, by something much stronger than words, asserts that it is not expe- dient. 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 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 ex- ercise 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 insuffi- cient for their purpose. You ai'e, therefore, at this moment in the awkward situation of fight- ing 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. (4.) They tell you, sir, that your dignity is tied to it. I know not how it happens. Will dignity but this dignity of yours is a terrible pennit encumbrance to you, for it has of late ^^ been at war with your interest, your equity, and every idea of your policy. Show the thing you ■' The refusal of this celebrated man to pay " ship- money," when illegally demanded by Charles I., is known to all. 246 MR. BURKE ON [1774. contend for to be reason ; show it to be common sense ; show 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 Irom the perseverance in absurdity, is more than ever I could discern. The honorable 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 ill-chosen 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 3'ielding, both of them, grow upon you every hour of your delay. But will you repeal the act, says the honorable Dignity did gentleman, at this instant, when Amer- not prevent jga jg [n open rcsistancc to your au- tlie promise . ' . -^ . or a repeal in thority, and that you have just revived circumstan"^ your systcm of taxation ? He thinks ^^^' he has driven us into a corner. But thus pent up, I am content to meet him, be- cause I enter the lists supported by my old au- thority, his new friends, the ministers themselves. The honorable gentleman remembers that about five years ago as great disturbances as the pres- ent prevailed in America on account of the new taxes. The ministers represented these disturb- ances 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 Henry VIH. 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 vio- lences, and to bring about a repeal, were treated with the utmost scorn. An apprehension of the very consequences now stated by the honorable gentleman was then given as a reason for shut- ting the door against all hope of such an altera- tion. And so strong was the spirit for support- ing the new taxes, that the session concluded with the following remarkable declaration. Aft- er stating the vigorous measures which had been pursued, the speech from the throne proceeds : '' You have assured me of your firm support m 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 Leg- islature in maintaining the execution of the laws in every part of my dominions." After this, no man dreamed that a repeal un- der this ministry could possibly take place. The honorable gentleman knows as well as I that the idea was utterly exploded by those who sway 8 111 February, 1769, Parliament addressed the King, at the suggestion of ministers, requesting liim to exercise the powers here mentioned, under an ob- solete act of the 35th of Henry VIII. the House. This speech was made on the 9th 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 re- citing the substance of the King's speech, he goes on thus : " I can take upon me to assure you, notwith- standing insinuations to the contrary, from men with factious and seditious views, that his Maj- esty's present administration have at no time entertained a design to propose to Parliament to lay any farther taxes upon America for the pur- pose of raising a revenue ; and that it is at pres- ent their intention to propose, the next session of Parliament, to take off the duties upon glass, paper, and colors, upon consideration of such du- ties having been laid contrary to the true prin- ciples 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 explana- tion of his measures as may tend to remove the prejudices which have been excited by the mis- representations of those who are enemies to the peace and prosperity of Great Britain and her colonies, and to re-establish that mutual confi- dence and affection upon which the glory and safety of the British empire depend." Here, sir, is a canonical book of ministerial scripture ; the Genei-al Epistle to the Ameri- cans. What does the gentleman say to it ? Hei-e a repeal is promised ; promised without condition, and while your authority was actually resisted. I pass by the public promise of a peer relative to the repeal of taxes by this House. I pa.ss 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 af- fected to despise, begging them, by the inter- vention 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. Pass- ing, therefore, from the constitutional considera- tion 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 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 Amer- ica has been always governed by this policy ? It goes a great deal farther. These excellent and trusty servants of the King, justly fearful lest they 1774.] AMERICAN TAXATION. 247 themselves should have lost all credit with the world, bring out the image of their gracious Sov- ereign from the inmost and most sacred shrine, and they pawn him as a security for their prom- ises. " His Majesty relies on your prudence and fidelity for such an explanation of his measures." These sentiments of the minister, and these meas- ures of his Majesty, can only relate to the princi- ple and practice of taxing for a revenue ; and, ac- cordingly. Lord Botetourt, stating it as such, did, with great propriety, and in the exact spirit of his instructions, endeavor 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, favorable to wicked American taxers, be hereafter counteracted. He addresses them in this manner : " It may possibly be objected that, as his Maj- esty's present administration are not immortal, their successors may be inclined to attempt to undo what the present ministers shall have at- tempted 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 forever to abide by it, that I will be content to be declared infa- mous if I do not, to the last hour of my life, at all times, in all places, and upon all occasions, exert eveiy 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 authorized to promise this day, by the confidential servants of our gracious Sovereign, who, to my certain knowledge, rates his honor so high, that he would rather part with his crown than preserve it by deceit.'"^ 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 ou| business to enable his Majesty to preserve in all its luster. Let him have character, since ours is no more ! Let some part of government be kept in respect ! This epistle is not the letter of Lord Hillsbor- ough solely, though he held the official pen. It 9 A material point is omitted by Mr. Burke in this speech, viz., the manner in which the Americans re- ceived this royal assurance. The Assembly of Vir- ginia, in their address in answer to Lord Botetourt's speech, express themselves thus : " We will not suf- fer our present hopes, arising from the pleasing pros- pect your Lordship hath so kindly opened and dis- played 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 gra- cious Sovereign, under whatever changes may hap- pen in his confidential servants, will remain immu- table in the ways of truth and justice, and that he is incapable of deceiving his faithful subjects; and we esteem your Lordship's infonnation not only as war- ranted, but even sanctified by the royal word." was the letter of the noble Lord upon the floor, [Lord North], 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 Pax-liament heard of what it was to do with the duties which it had given and grant- ed to the King, was by the publication of the votes of American assemblies. It was in Amer- ica that your resolutions were predeclared. 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 seci-et 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 surprised that Parliament is every day and every where losing (I feel it with sorrow, I utter it with re- luctance) that reverential affection which so en- dearing a name of authority ought ever to carry with it ; that 3-ou are obeyed solely from respect to the bayonet ; and that this House, the ground and pillar of freedom, is itself held up only by the treachei'ous under-pinning and clumsy but- tresses of arbitrary power ? If this dignity, which is to stand in the place of just policy and common sense, had been con- sulted, there was a time for preserving it, and for reconciling it with any concession. If, in the ses- sion of 1768, that session of idle terror and empty menaces, you had, as you were often pressed to do, repealed those taxes, then your strong oper- ations 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 ef- fect, either good or bad, your ministers immedi- ately begged pardon, and promised that repeal to the obstinate Americans which they had re- fused in an easy, good-natured, complying Brit- ish Parliament. The assemblies, which had been publicly and avowedly dissolved for their contu- macy, are called together to receive your sub- mission. Your ministerial directors blustered like tragic tyrants here ; and then went mump- ing with a sore leg in America, canting, and whining, and complaining of faction, which rep- resented them as friends to a revenue from the colonies. I hope nobody in this House will here- after have the impudence to defend American taxes in the name of ministr3\ The moment they do, with this letter of attorney in my hand, I will tell them, in the authorized terms, they are wretches, " with factious and seditious views; enemies to the peace and prosperity of the mother country and the colonies," and sub- verters " of the mutual affection and confidence on which the glory and safety of the British em- pire depend." 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 248 MR. BURKE ON [1774. therefore either abandon the scheme of taxing, or you must send the ministers tarred and feath- ered 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-ordi- nary, or demy-fine, or blue royal, or bastard, or fool's-cap, which you have given up, or the three- pence on tea which you have retained. The letter went stamped with the public authority of this kingdom. The instructions for the colony government go under no other sanction ; and America can not believe, and will not obey you, if you do not preserve this channel of communi- cation sacred. You are now punishing the col- onies for acting on distinctions held out by that very ministry which is here shining in riches, in favor, and in power, and urging the punishment of the very offense to which they had themselves been the tempters. Sir, if reasons respecting simply your own com- merce, 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 having had an intent to tax for revenue, mention it as the means of " re-establishing the confidence and af- fection 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 medi- um, for regaining their affection and confidence is, that you will 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 dis- claimer of the intention of taxing for revenue, as a constant invariable sentiment and rule of con- duct in the government of America. I remember that the noble Lord [Lord North] on the floor — not in a former debate, to be sure (it would be disorderly to refer to it — I suppose I read it some- where) — but the noble Lord was pleased to say that he did not con- ceive 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 astonish- ment, 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 is the forty-fifth chapter ; the other to which I refer is the forty-fourth of the same ses- sion. These two acts are both to the same pur- Proof from the taxes on tlie Isle of Man, that those on America were not repealed on commercial principles. pose ; both revenue acts ; both taxmg out of the kingdom ; and both taxing British manufactures exported. As the forty-fifth is an act for raising a revenue in America, the forty-fourth 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 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 a 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 ag- riculture too ; for, I now recollect, British corn is thei-e also taxed up to ten per cent., and this, too, in the very head-quarters, the very citadel of .smuggling, the Isle of Man. Now, will the no- ble Lord condescend to tell me why he repealed the taxes on your manufactures sent out to Amer- ica, and not the taxes on the manufactures ex- ported 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 colo- nies, 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 dishonor is, that you have not done what you had given the colonies just cause to expect, when your ministei's disclaimed the idea of taxes for a rev- enue. There is nothing simple, nothing manly, nothing ingenuous, open, decisive, or steady in the proceeding, with regard either to the contin- uance 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 resolu- tion either to keep that tax or to give it up. There is no fair dealing in any part of the trans- action. 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 efiect, been disclaimed in your name, and which produces you no advantage — no, not a penny. Or, if you choose to go on with a poor pretense instead of a solid reason, and will still adhere to your cant of commerce, you have ten thousand times moi-e strong commercial reasons for giv- ing 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 c£300,000, at the least farthing. If you urge the American violence as a justifi- cation 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, while the very same violence subsisted?" But you did not find the violence 1774.] AMERICAN TAXATION. 249 cease upon that concession ? No ! because the concession was far short of satisfying the princi- ple which Lord Hillsborough had abjured, or even the pretense on which the repeal of the other taxes was announced ; and because, by en- abling the East India Company to open a shop for defeating the American resolution not to pay that specific tax, you manifestly showed a hank- ering after the principle of the act which you for- merly had renounced. Whatever road you take leads to a compliance with this motion. It opens to you at the end of every vista. Your com- merce, your policy, your promises, your reasons, your pretenses, your consistency, your inconsist- ency — 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 that the Americans are going on as fast as possible, while 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 farther progress. It is impossible to answer for bodies of men. But I am sure the natural effect of fidel- ity, 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 ti'ial, which, since the mak- ing of this act to this hour, they never have had. II. Sir, the honorable gentleman having .spok- Broad and his- ^^ ^^at hc thought ncccssary upon toricai view of the narrow part of the subject, I have the subject. . , . ' ^- r I given him, i hope, a satisfactory an- swer. He next presses me, by a variety of di- rect challenges and oblique reflections, 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 w^eighty instruction that, I flatter my- self, will necessarily result from it. It shall not be longer, if I can help it, than so serious a mat- ter requires. (1.) Permit me then, sir, to lead your atten- First Period : ^^^"^ ^^^J ^^"^ ^^^^ '^^ck tO thc Act of policy of the Navigation — the corner-stone of the Navigation Act i- r i • • , i policy of this country with regard to its colonies.^^ Sir, that policy was, from the be- 10 If any man has been accustomed to regard Mr. Burke as more of a rhetorician than a reasoner, let him turn back and study over the series of arguments contained in this first head. There is nothing in any of the speeches of Mr. Fox or Mr. Pitt which surpass- es it for close reasoning on the facts of the case, or the binding force with which, at every step, the con- clusion is linked to the premises. It is unnecessary to speak of the pungency of its application, or the power with which he brings to bear upon Lord North the whole course of his measures respecting the col- onies, as an argument for repealing this " solitary dnty on tea." ^' This celebrated act was passed during the sway of Cromwell in 1651, at the suggestion of St. John, the English embassador to Holland, who had ginning, purely commercial ; and the commer- cial system w^as wholly restrictive. It was the system of a monopoly. No trade was let loose from that constraint, but merely to enable the col- onists 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 your specific and detailed enumerations ; hence the innumer- able checks and counter checks ; hence that in- finite 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 Parlia- ment, from the year 1660 to the unfortunate pe- riod of 1764. In all those acts the system of commerce is established, as that from whence ^, , ' The laws under alone you proposed to make the col- that system not onies contribute (I mean directly and by the operation of your superintending legisla- tive power) to the strength of the empire. I ven- ture to say, that during that whole period, a par- liamentary revenue from thence was never once in contemplation. Accordingly, in all the num- ber of laws passed with regard to the planta- tions, the words which distinguish revenue law^s, specifically as such, were, I think, premeditated- ly avoided. I do not say, sir, that a form of words alters the nature of the law, or abridges the power of the law-giver. It certainly does not. However, titles and formal preambles are not always idle words ; and the lawyers fre- quently argue from them. I state these facts to show, not what w^as your right, but what has been your settled policy. Our revenue laws have usually a title, purporting their being grants ; and the w^ords give and grant usually precede the en- acting 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 of the usual ti- tles 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 donation, considers it merely as a regulation — " 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, at the ex- press desire of a part of the colonies themselves. It was therefore in some measure with their con- sent ; and having a title directly purporting only a commercial regulation, and being in truth noth- ing more, the words were passed by, at a time been treated with gross indignity by the Dutch. It was designed to deprive the Dutch of the immense carrying trade which they enjoyed, and therefore prohibited the importation into England or any of her dependencies, \nforeign vessels, of any commod- ities which were not the growth of the respective countries in whose vessels they were imported. At a subsequent period, other acts were passed for the increased advantage of British shipping. 250 MR. BURKE ON [1774 when no jealousy was entertained and things were little scrutinized. Even Governor Bernax'd, in his second printed letter, dated in 1763, gives it as his opinion, that "it was an act o( prohibi- tion, not of revenue.'' This is cei'tainly true, that no act avowedly for the purpose of revenue, and with the ordinary title and recital taken to- gethei-, is found in the statute-book until the year I have mentioned, that is, the year 1764. All before this period stood on commercial reg- ulation and restraint. The scheme of a colony revenue by British authority appeared therefore to the Americans in the light of a great innova- tion ; the words of Governor Bernard's ninth let- ter, 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 visi- ble boicnds set to it." After stating the weak- ness of government there, he says, " Was this a time to introduce so gx'eat a novelty as a parlia- mentary inland taxation in America?" What- ever the right might have been, this mode of using it was absolutely new in policy and prac- tice. Sir, they who are friends to the schemes of No answer to American revenue say that the com- ^tiontws we're mcrcial restraint is full as hard a oppressive. j^w for America to live under. 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 fun- damental Act of Navigation until 1764. Why? Because men do bear the inevitable constitution of their original nature with all its infirmities. The Act of Navigation attended the colonies from their infanc}^, grew with their growth, and strength- ened 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. There were Bcsidcs, they wcrc indemnified for it compensations. ^^ ^ pecuniary compensation. Their monopolist happened to be one of the richest men in the world. By his immense capital (prima- rily 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 outcasts, a few" years ago, not so much sent as thrown out, on the bleak and barren shore of a desolate wilderness three thou- sand miles from all civilized intercourse. All this was done by England, while England pursued trade and forgot revenue. You not only acquired commerce, but you actually cre- ated the very objects of trade in America ; and by that 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 compensa- tion, which you are now going to take away from her. She had, except the commercial re- straint, every characteristic mark of a free peo- ple in all her internal concerns. She had the image of the British Constitution. She had the substance. She was taxed by her own repre- sentatives. She chose most of her own magis- trates. 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 per- fect freedom ; but, comparing it with the ordi- nary circumstances of human nature, it was a happy and a liberal condition. I know, sir, that great and not unsuccessful pains have been taken to inflame our ^n^prica sub- minds by an outcry, in this House mitted to these and out of it, that in America the Act of Navigation neither is, nor ever was obeyed. But if you take the colonies through, I affirm that its authority never was disputed ; that it was nowhere 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 scat- tered 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 Com- pany, your right to lay immense duties on French brandy, ai'e not disputed in England. You do not make this charge on any man. But you know that there is not a creek from Pentland Firth to the Isle of Wight, 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 on this point is indisputable. Speaking of these laws, as they regarded that part of America now in so unhap- py a condition, he says, " I believe they are no- where better supported than in this pi-ovince. 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 coun- try ? An obedience to these laws formed the acknowledgment, instituted by yourselves, for your superiority, and was the payment you originally imposed for 3'our protection. Whether you w^ere right or wrong in estab- lishing the colonies on the principles of commer- cial monopoly, rather than on that of revenue, is at this day a problem of mere speculation. You can not have both by the same authority. To join together the restraints of a universal inter- nal and external monopoly, with a universal in- ternal and external taxation, is an unnatural un- 1774.] AMERICAN TAXATION. 251 ion — perfect uncompensated slavery. You have long since decided for yourself and them ; and you and they have prospered exceedingly under that decision. (2.) This nation, sir, never thought of depart- second Period, ing from that choice until the period ^^^n^reVe^nue immediately on the close of the last from America, ^r^f. Then a schcmc of government nevv in many things seemed to have been adopt- ed. I saw, or thought I saw, several symptoms of a great change, while I sat in your gallery, a good while before I had the honor 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 wnth very 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 burden. Country gentlemen, the great patrons of economy, and the great resisters of a standing armed force, would not have entered with much alacrity into the vote for so large and expensive an army, if they had been very sure that they were to con- tinue to pay for it. But hopes of another kind were held out to them ; and in particular, I well remember that Mr. Townsend, in a brilliant ha- rangue on this subject, did dazzle them, by play- ing 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 dis- tinctly afterward, when it was devolved upon a person [Mr. Grenville] to whom, on other ac- counts, this countiy 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 im- posed upon him altogether ; whether it was en- tirely the result of his own speculation ; or, what is moi'e probable, that his own ideas rather coin- cided with the instructions he had received, cer- tain 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 man, whose loss we deplore in common. Our little party differences have been long ago com- posed : and I have acted more with him, and cer- tainly 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 reso- lute heart, he had an application undissipatcd and unwearied. He took public business, not as a duty which he was to fulfill, but as a pleasure he was to enjoy ; and he seemed to have no delifjht out of this House, except in such things as in 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 pub- lic service, and to secure 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 groundwork 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. 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 enlarge- ment. 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 w^ho 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 prece- dent, then it is that a greater knowledge of man- kind, 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 legis- lation than in truth it deserves. He conceived, and many conceived along with him, that the flourishing trade of this country was greatly ow- ing 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 rev- ^2 This admirable sketch has one peculiarity which is highly characteristic of Mr. Burke. It does not so much describe the objective qualities of the man, as the formative principles of his character. The traits mentioned were causes of his being what he was, and doing what he did. They account (and for this rea- son they are brought forward) for the course he took in respect to America. The saine, also, is true re- specting the sketch of Charles Townsend which fol- lows, and, to some extent, respecting the sketch of Lord Chatham. This is one of the thousand exhibi- tions of the pliilosophical tendencies of Mr. Burke's mind, his absorption in the idea of cause ar i effect, of the action and reaction of principles and feelings. 252 MR. BURKE ON [1774. enue. 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 fluctu- ation of circumstances, it must do great mischief, and frequently even defeat its own purpose. After the [French] wax*, and in the last years of it, the trade of America had increased far be- yond the speculations of the most sanguine imag- inations. It swelled out on every side. It filled all its proper channels to the brim. It over- flowed wnth a rich redundance, and, breaking its banks on the right and on the left, it spread out upon some places where it was indeed improp- er, upon others where it was only irregular. It is the nature of all greatness not to be exact ; and crreat trade will always be attended with considerable abuses. The contraband will al- ways 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 wuth the cause of our prosperity. Perhaps this great person turned his eye somewhat less than was just toward the incredible increase of the fair trade, and looked with something of too ex- quisite a jealousy tow^ard 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, w^hile he was first Lord of the Admiralty, though not strictly called upon in his official line, he pre- sented 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 mis- chief happened even at that time from this over- earnest zeal. Much greater happened after- ward, when it operated with greater powder 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 hav- ing no trade, either contraband or legitimate.^'' They found, under the construction and execu- tion then used, the act no longer tying, but actu- ally 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 ap- pointment of Courts of Admiralty under various improper circumstances ; with a sudden extinc- tion of the paper currencies j^'* with a compul- ^^ For some years previous to the peace of 176.3, the Ainerican colonies carried on an extensive trade in British manufactured articles with the colonies of Spain and France. This, though not against the spir- it of the Navigation Act, was a violation of its letter, and was stopped for a time, though afterward allowed under duties amounting to a prohibition. In carrying out these regulations, the accused were to be pros- ecuted in the Admiralty Courts, and thus deprived of a trial by jury. 1* Paper money was issued by most of the colo- sory provision for the quartering of soldiers, the people of America thought themselves proceed- ed 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. '^ An}' of these innumerable regulations, perhaps, would not have alarmed alone ; some might be thought reason- able ; the multitude struck them with terror. But the grand maneuver in that business of new regulating the colonies was the 15th act of the fourth of George III., which, besides contain- ing several of the matters to which I have just alluded, opened a new principle ; and here prop- erly 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 monopoh^ ; 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 as- serted in the preamble, " that it was j'tist and nec- essary that a revenue should be raised there." Then came the technical words of " giving and granting ;" and thus a complete American rev- enue act was made in all the forms, and with a full avowal of the right, equit}'^, 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 re- markable words: the Commons, &c. — "being desirous to make some provision in the present session of Parliament toward raising the said rev- enue." By these words it appeared to the col- onies that this act was but a beginning of sor- rows ; that every session was to produce some- thing of the same kind ; that we were to go on from day to day. in chai'ging them with such tax- es as we pleased, for such a military force as we should think proper. Had this plan been pur- sued, it was evident that the provincial assem- blies, in which the Americans felt all their por- tion 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. Six-, they were not mistaken. The ministry valued them- selves wiien 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 tax- ation. Great w'as the applause of this measure here. In England w'e cried out for new taxes nies to supply a currency, when the coin was with- drawn in the course of trade to England. Regula- tions putting a sudden stop to this currency pro- duced great trouble in America. ^^ The colonies had entered warmly into the war against France ; and such was their zeal, that of their own accord they advanced for carrying it on, much larger suras than were allotted as their quota by the British government. 1774.] AMERICAN TAXATION. 253 oil America, while 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 Pretense Uiat ^^^ ^^^^ American revenue act (the the Americans act iu 1764, imuosinij thc port du- did not at hrst . ' ' = . i- , object to being tics) passcu, 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 du- ties were port duties, like those they had been accustomed to bear, with this dilFerence, 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 full refutation of the pretense for their present cruelty to America ; for it shows, out of their own mouths, that our col- onies were backward to enter into the present vexatious and ruinous controversy. There is also another circulation abroad (spread with a malignant intention, which I can Pretense that ., ^ , , ' , then the op- not attribute to those who say the same enUi^m o^r thing in this House), that ^Ir. Grenville ^kef "^^ gave the colony agents an option for their assemblies to tax themselves, which they had refused. I find that much sti'ess '^ It is far from being true that " the Americans did not object to the principle" of the act of 1764 ; nor is Mr. Burke correct in saying they '' touched it very tenderly." The first act of the British Parliament for the avowed purpose of raising a revenue in Amer- ica was passed April 5th, 1764. Within a month aft- er the news reached Boston, the General Court of Massachusetts met, and on the 13th of June, 1764, ad- dressed a letter to Mr Mauduit, their agent in En- gland, giving him spirited and decisive instructions on the subject. It seems he had misconstrued their silence respecting another law, and had not, there- fore, come forward in their behalf against the act. They say, " No agent of the province has povver to make concessions in any case without express or- ders ; and that the silence of the province should have been imputed to any cause, even to despair, rather thnn to have been construed into a tacit ces- sion of their rights, or an acknowledgment of a right in Parliament to impose duties and taxes upon a peo- ple who are not represented in the House of Com- mons.'" A committee was also chosen with power to sit in the recess of the General Court, and direct- ed to correspond with the other provinces on the sub- ject, acquainting them with the instructions sent to Mr. Mauduit, and requesting the concurrence of the other provincial assemblies in resisting " any impo- sitions and taxes upon this and the other American provinces." Accordingly, in November of the same year, the House of Burgesses in Virginia sent an ad- dress to the House of Lords and a remonstrance to the House of Commons on the same subject. Re- monstrances were likewise sent from Massachusetts and New York to the Privy Council. James Otis also published during this year his pamphlet against the right of Parliament to tax the colonies while un- represented in the House of Commons. This was printed in London in 1765, about the time when the Stamp Act was passed. — See Holmes's American Annals, 2d ed., vol. ii., p. 225-6. is laid on this as a fact. However, it happens neither to be true nor possible. I will observe, first, that i\Ir. Grenville never thought fit to make this apology for himself in the innumerable de- bates 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 them- selves on requisition, which is the assertion of the day. Indeed, Mr. Grenville well knew that thc colony agents could have no general powers to consent to it ; and they had no time to con- sult their assemblies for particular powers before he passed his first revenue act. If you compare dates, you will find it impossible. Burdened as the agents knew the colonies were at that time, they could not give the least hope of such grants. His own favorite governor was of opinion that the Americans were not then taxable objects. " Nor was the time less favorable 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 sea.son. But it should be considered that the American gov- ernments themselves have, in the prosecution 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 govern- ment, which is as much beforehand as any, raises every year ^37,500 sterling for sinking their debt, and must continue it for four years longer at least before it will 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 an- other reason. He was of opinion, which he has declared in this House a 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 Amer- ica, 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 proceed- ing, that if the stamp duty was disliked, he was willing to exchange it for any other equally pi'o- ductive : but that, if he objected to the Ameri- cans 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 unques- tionable authority for it. Thus, sir, I have disposed of this falsehood. But falsehood has a perennial spring, p,,^,^,^^,,,^ It is said that no conjecture could be ^''^ opposition 1 r- . T 1-1 c 1 1 • ol the A men- made oi the dislike oi the colonies to cans ^ ^ . , .' =,, 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 num- bers of the people. This ground of their com- merce, indeed, has been trod some days ago, and ^ This is in Mr. Barkers best stj'Ie. The compar- ison beautifully illustrates the idea, and justifies his assertion, that while " the dispute continues, the ex- aggeration ends." It is curious to observe, as one of the artifices of language, how Johnson treats the same idea in his Taxation no Tyranny, where he contrives to cover it with contempt in the minds of the Tories, for whom he wrote, by a dexterous use of sneers and appropriate imagery. "We are told that the continent of North America contains three millions, not merely of men, but of Whigs — of Whigs fierce for liberty and disdainful of dominion ; that they multiply with the fecundity of their rattle- snakes, so that every quarter of a century they double their numbers !" His conclusion is, that they must be crushed in the e^^. with great ability, by a distinguished person [Mr. Gower] at your bar. This gentleman, after thir- ty-five years — it is so long since he 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 ex- tent of erudition which even then marked him as one of the first literary characters of his age, he has added a consummate knowledge in the com- mercial interest of his country, formed by a long course of enlightened and discriminating expe- rience. 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 sub- ject, it is impossible that it should not make an impression upon you. I have in my hand two accounts : one a com- parative 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 es- tablished 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, term- inating 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 de- preciate 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 ^Q>M5 c£569,930 In the year 1772, which I take as a middle year between the highest and lowest of those late- ly 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 fi"om Scotland, which had in 1704 no existence 364.000 666.022,398 270 MR. BURKE ON [1775. 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 pe- riods, 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 En- gland, including that to the colonies, in 1704 .£6,509,000 Exported to the colonies alone, in 1772 6,024,000 Difference.. c€485,000 The trade with America alone is now within less than c£500,000 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 pi'otuberance, 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 aug- mented more or less in almost ev^ery part to which it ever extended, but with this material differ- ence, that of the six millions which in the be- ginning 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 six- teen 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 treat- ing 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 fu- ture. Let us, however, before we descend from this noble 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 remem- ber all the stages of the progress. He was in 1704 of an age at least to be made to compre- hend such things. He was then old enough '" acta parentum jam legere, ct quaj sit poterit cognos- cere virtus."'' Suppose, sir, that the angel of this ■' Mr. Burke in adapting this passage to the con- text, has changed some of the words and omitted others, so as to render the construction obscure. When he made the first infinitive, Icp^crc, dependent on the preceding English phrase, he should have done the same with cognoaccre, omitting poterit. Thus it would read, " He was then old enough to read the exploits of his ancestors, and learn what virtue is." 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 Bruns- wick 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 a higher rank of peer- age, while he enriched the family with a new one. If, amid these bright and happy scenes of domestic honor and prosperity, that angel should have drawn up the curtain, and unfolded the ris- ing glories of his country, and while he was gaz- ing 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 death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world. Whatever England has been growing to by a progressive increase of im- provement, 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 live to see The quotation is taken from Virgil's fourth Eclogue, where the poet predicts the birth of a child who should restore the peace and plenty of the Golden Age. The passage has been commonly referred to a child whose birth was expected from the sister of Augustus, and which the Emperor designed to adopt as his own. Hence the " acta parentis" in the words below. At simul heroum laudes et acta Pai-entis Jam legere, et qvce sit poteris cognoscere virtus, Molli paulatim flavescet campus arista, Incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus riva, Et durae quercus sudabunt roscida mella. When thou can'st read Our heroes' praises and thy Father's deeds, And know what virtue is, o'er all our plains Shall golden harvests wave with ripened corn; The ruddy grape hang from uncultured thorns, And dewy honey flow from rugged oaks. In thus alluding to Lord Bathurst, Mr. Burke un- doubtedly thought of him only as advanced in years, without reflecting on his exact age. He was born in 1684, and w-as therefore, in 1704, not only "of an age to be made to comprehend such things," but on the verge of manhood, and actually took his seat in Parliament the next year, 1705. The son of Lord Bathurst, referred to above, was Henry, created Lord Apsley, and raised to the dignity of Lord Chancellor in 1771. 1775.] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 271 nothing to vary the prospect and cloud the set- ting 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 Pennsylvania. In the year 1704 that province called for c€l 1,459 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 Pennsyl- vania was c£507,909, nearly equal to the export to all the colonies together in the first period. I choose, sir, to enter into these minute and par- ticular details, because generalities, which, in all other cases are apt to heighten and raise the sub- ject, have here a tendency to sink it. When we speak of the commerce with our colonies, fiction lags after truth ; invention is unfruitful, and im- agination cold and barren. So far, sir, as to the importance of the object in the viev.' of its commerce, as concerned in the ex- ports from England. If I were to detail the im- ports, I could show how many enjoyments they procure, which deceive the burden 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. (3.) I pass, therefore, to the colonies in another point of view — their agriculture. This Agriculture. , , i • i i they have prosecuted with such a spir- it, that, besides feeding plentifully their own grow- ing multitude, their annual export of grain, com- prehending rice, has, some years ago, exceeded a million in value. Of their last harvest I am per- suaded they will export much more. At the be- ginning of the century, some of these colonies im- ported 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.^ 8 It may be doubted whether this amplification, and the more graphic one which follows in respect to the fisheries of New England, are not out of place in an argument of this kind before the House of Com- mons. They would have been perfectly appropriate in an address like that of Daniel Webster on the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, since the au- dience had met for the very purpose of being de- lighted with rich trains of thought, beautifully ex- pressed. We who read the speech at the present day, dwell on such passages with unmingled grati- fication, because we peruse them much in the same spirit. But they would certainly be unsafe models for a business speaker. 9 The deed of" Roman charity" refcn-ed to in this beautiful image was celebrated in the annals of the republic, and is related by Pliny in his Natural His- tory, lib. vii., 36, and also, more at large, by Vale- rius Maxiinns. lib. v., 4. A woman was condemned (4.) As to the wealth which the colonies have drawn from the sea by their fisheries, you 1111. ,• II 1 Fisheries. had all that matter iully 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 enterprising em- ployment has been exercised, ought rather, in my opinion, to have raised your esteem and admira- tion. 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. While we follow them among the tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the deep- est frozen recesses of Hudson's Bay and Davis's Strait.s — while we are looking for them be- neath the arctic circle, we hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar cold — that they are at the antipodes, and engaged un- der 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 while some of them draw the line and strike the har- poon on the coast of Africa, others run the lon- gitude, 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 Hol- land, nor the activity of France, nor the dexter- ous and firm sagacity of English enterprise, 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 gov- ernment, but that, through a wise and salutary neglect, a generous nature has been suffered to for some atrocious crime to be strangled in prison ; but the jailer, disliking to execute the sentence, left her without food to perish of hunger. Her daughter, with great importunity, obtained permission to visit her from time to time, but only after beimr carefully searched to prevent the introduction of food. As the woman lived beyond all expectation, the jailer resolved to discover the secret; and, coming sud- denly upon them, found the daughter (who had a little before given birth to a child) sustaining the mother from her own breast. The magistrates, struck with admiration at this instance of filial pi- ety, pardoned the mother for the daughter's sake, and provided for the support of both at the public expense. Festus and Solinus, writers of a later age, represent it to have been a father, not a moth- er, who was thus sustained ; and in this form the story has been more generally received in modern times. ^° The Hydrus, or Water Serpent, is a small con- stellation lying very far to the south, within the ant- arctic circle. 272 MR. BURKE ON [1775. 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 pow- er sink, and all presumption in the wisdom of hu- man contrivances melt, and die away within me. My rigor relents. I pardon something to the spirit of liberty. I am sensible, sir, that all which I have as- , serted in my detail is admitted in the Second general •' . consideration: gross ; biTt that ouitc a diuerent con- Force ought , . . T \- -^ A not to be used clusiou IS drawu trom It. America, in such a case, gg^tjej^eu 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 gain- ing them. Gentlemen in this respect w^ill be led to their choice of means by their complexions and their habits. Those who understand the military art will, ofcour.se, 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 w^ant of this knowl- edge, my opinion is much more in favor of pru- dent management than of force ; considering force not as an odious, but a feeble in.strument, for preserving a people so numerous, so active, so growing, so spirited as this, in a profitable and subordinate connection with us. (1.) First, six-, permit me to observe, that the use of force alone is but temporary. It may sub- due for a moment, but it does not remove the ne- cessity of subduing again ; and a naiion is not governed which is perpetually to be conquered. (2.) My next objection is its uncertainty. Terror is not always the efTect of force ; and an armament is not a victory. If you do not suc- ceed, you are without resource ; for, conciliation failing, force remains ; but, force failing, no far- ther hope of reconciliation is left. Power and authority are sometimes bought by kindness, but they can never be begged as alms by an impov- erished and defeated violence. (3.) A farther objection to force is, that you impair the object by your very endeavors to pre- .serve it. The thing you fought for is not the thing which you recover ; but depreciated, sunk, v^'asted, and consumed in the contest. Nothing less will content me than xchole America. I do not choose 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 ex- hausting 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 coun- try. (4.) Lastly, we have no sort of experience in favor of force as an instrument in the rule of our colonies. Their growth and their utility has been owing to methods altogether different. Our an- cient 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 partic- ulars 1 have great respect, seem to be so great- ly captivated. ^^ But there is still behind a third consideration concerning this object, which serves ^j^j^^ general to determine my opinion on the sort consideration: of policy which ought to be pursued America and in the management of America, even "^*•^^"^^^• more than its population and its commerce — I mean its temper and character. In this charac- ter of the Americans a love of freedom is the pre- dominating feature, which marks and distinguish- es the whole ; and, as an ardent is always a jealous affection, your colonies become suspicious, rest- ive, 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 of liberty is stronger in the English colonies, probably, than in any other people of the earth, and this from a 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.'^ (1.) First, the people of the colonies are de- scendants of Englishmen. England, sir, is ^ . . , • , Ml T 1 1 Origin a nation which still, I hope, respects, and formerly adored her freedom. The colonists emigrated from you when this part of your char- acter was most predominant ; and they took this bias and direction the moment they parted from your hands. They are, therefore, not only devo- ted to liberty, but to liberty according to English ideas and on English principles. Abstract lib- erty, like other mere abstractions, is not to be found. Liberty inheres in some sensible object ; and every nation has formed to itself some favor- ite 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, chief- ly upon the question of taxing. Most of the con- tests in the ancient commonwealths turned pri- 11 These four arguments show how admirably Mr. Burke could condertse when he saw fit. 12 We here see the secret of Mr. Burke's rich- ness of thought. It consisted, to a great extent, in his habit of viewing things in their causes, or trac- ing them out in their results. Let the reader study these pages with reference to this fact. Let him observe how Mr. Burke brings out the leading cha- racteristics of the colonists, not as isolated facts, but as dependent upon certain /<9?-mz«^ influences in the mind of the English people: their early contests, civil and religious ; the necessary results of certain relations of society and forms of mental development. Such habits of thought, if well directed, furnish an endless variety of valuable remarks in filling out a subject. If not abstract in their statement, but ren- dered intelligible and striking by a proper reference to individual cases, they always interest at the same time that they instruct. It is with reference to this subject, especially, that Mr. Burke should be studied by the young orator. 1775.] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 273 aiarily 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 ex- ercised ; the greatest spirits have acted and suf- fered. 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 Consti- tution, 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 and blind usages to reside in a cer- tain body called the House of Commons. They went much farther : 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 lib- erty could subsist. The colonies draw from you, as with their life-blood, those ideas and principles. Their love of liberty, as with you, fixed and at- tached on this specific point of taxing. Liberty might be safe or might be endangered in twen- ty other particulars, without their being much pleased or alarmed. Here they felt its pulse ; and, as they found that beat, they thought them- selves 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, in- deed, to make a monopoly of theorems and co- rollaries. The fact is, that they did thus apply those general arguments : and your mode of gov- erning 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. (2.) They were further confirmed in this pleas- Form of gov- ing error by the form of their provincial ernaient. legislative assembHcs. Their govern- ments are popular in a high degree ; some are merely popular; in all, the popular representa- tive 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. (3.) If any thing were wanting to this neces- Reii-ion ^^'7 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 im- paired ; and their mode of professing it is also ■ « 1 '- In some of the colonies all the officers of gov- ernment were chosen directly by the people. In others, the governor and some of the magistrates were appointed by the Crown, but were unable to act without the co-operation of Assemblies elected by the colonists. S 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 fa- vorable 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 favor and every kind of support from authority. The Church of England, too, was formed from her cradle under the nursing care of regular gov- ernment. But the dissenting interests have sprung up in direct opposition to all the ordina- ry powers of the world, and could justify that opposition only on a strong claim to natural lib- erty. Their very existence depended on the powerful and unremitted assertion of that claim. All Protestantism, even the most cold and pass- ive, is a kind of dissent. But the religion most prevalent in our northern colonies is a refine- ment 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 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 es- tablishments of their several countries, and have brought with them a temper and character far from alien to that of the people with whom thoy mixed. (4.) Sir, I can perceive by their manner that some gentlemen olDJect to the latitude Domestic in- of this description, because in the =*""'"'"'■'"• southern colonies the Church of England forms a large bod}^, and has a regular establishment. It is certainly true. There is, however, a cir- cumstance attending these colonies, M'hich, in my opinion, fully counterbalances this diflerence, 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 '*In Chapman's Select. Speeches, and in some editions of Burke, both in this country and in En- gland, this word has been strangely altered into dif- Jidence- 274 MR. BURKE ON [1775. and general as the air, may be united with much abject toil, with great misery, with all the exterior of servitude, liberty looks, among them, like somelhing that is more noble and lib- eral. I do not mean, sir, to commend the su- perior morality of this sentiment, which has at least as much pride as virtue in it ; but I can not alter the nature of man. The fact is so; and these people of the southern colonies are much more strongly, and with a higher and more stubborn spirit, attached to liberty than those to the northward. Such were all the an- cient commonwealths ; such were our Gothic ancestors; such, in our days, were the Poles ;^^ 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 in- vincible. (5.) Permit me, sir, to add another circum- stance in our colonies, which contributes Education. ' no mean part toward 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 num- ber of the deputies sent to Congress were law- yers. But all who read, and most do read, endeavor to obtain some smattering in that sci- ence. I have been told by an eminent booksel- ler, 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. Gen- eral Gage marks out this disposition very partic- ularly 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 obli- gations to obedience, and the penalties of rebell- ion. All this is mighty well. But my honor- able and learned friend [Mr., afterward Lord Thurlow] on the floor, who condescends to mark what I say for animadversion, will disdain that ^* When this speech was delivered, Poland had recently been struck from the list of nations, the first partition of her territory having been made by Austria, Prussia, and Russia in 1772. ^^ An amusing case of this kind may be mention- ed. General Gage, in carrying out the coercive statutes, forbade by proclamation the calling of any town meetings after August 1st, 1774. One was held by the Bostonians, however, in defiance of the proclamation; and when measures were taken by the government to disperse it, the legality of the meeting was strenuously asserted, on the ground that it had not been "called" since the first of Au- gust, but had been only adjourned over from time to time ! ground. He has heard, as well as I, that when great honors and great emoluments do not win over this knowledge to the service of the state, it is a formidable adversary to government. If the spirit be not tamed and broken by these hap- py methods, it is stubborn and litigious. Abe- unt studia in mores}'' This study renders men acute, inquisitive, dexterous, prompt in attack, ready in defense, full of resources. In other countries, the people, more simple and of a less mercurial cast, judge of an ill principle in gov- ernment only by an actual grievance. Here they anticipate the evil, and judge of the press- ure of the grievance by the badness of the principle. They augur misgovernment at a distance ; and snufT the approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze. (6.) The last cause of this disobedient spirit in the colonies is hardly less powerful „ , , . . •' ^ Remoteness. than the rest, as it is not merely mor- al, but laid deep in the natural constitution of things. Three thousand miles of ocean lie be- tween you and them. No contrivance can pre- vent the effect of this distance in weakening gov- ernment. 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 the 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 furi- ous 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? Noth- ing worse happens to you than does to all na- tions who have extensive empire ; and it hap- pens 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 can not govern Egypt, and Arabia, and Koordistan, as he gov- erns Thrace ; nor has he the same dominion in Crimea and Algiers which he has at Broosa 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 vigor of his authority in his center, is derived from a prudent relaxation in all his borders. Spain, in her provinces, is, per- haps, 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 south- ern, of education, of the remoteness of situation from the first mover of government — from all ^'' Studies pass into habits. '* Ministrum fulminis alitem. — Horace, Odes, book iv., ode i. "We have seen (p. 116) Lord Chatham's application of this image to the army of England. Rlr. Burke here applies it, in an expanded form, to her ships of war. 1775.] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 275 these causes a fierce spirit of liberty has grown up. It has grown with the growth of the peo- ple in your colonie.s, and increased with the in- crease 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 Tiie spirit of the ^" *^^^ Bxccss, or the moral causes Americans firm which producG it. Perhaps a more and mtractable. , ^ , , . ' . . „ smooth and accommodatmg spirit ot freedom in them would be more acceptable to us. Perhaps ideas of liberty might be desired, more reconcilable with an arbiti'ary and bound- less authority. Perhaps we might wish the col- onists to be persuaded that their liberty is more secure when held in trust for them by us, as 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 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 mag- nitude, the importance, the temper, the habit.s, the disorders. B}'- all these considerations we are strongly urged to determine something con- cerning it. We are called upon to fix some rule and line for our future conduct, wiiich may give a little stability to our politics, and prevent the return of such unhappy deliberations as the pres- ent. 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 ? While 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 not been shaken. Until very lately, all authority in America seemed to be nothing but an emanation from yours. Even the popular part of the colo- ny 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 dis- turb authority. We never dreamed they could of themselves supply it, knowing in general what an operose business it is to establish a govern- ment absolutely new. But having, for our pur- poses in this contention, resolved that none but an obedient assembly should sit, the humors 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 gov- ernment suflicient for its purposes, without the bustle of a revolution, or the troublesome form- ality of an election. Evident necessity and tacit consent have done the business in an instant. So well they have done it, that Lord Dunmore (the account is among the fragments on your tabic) tells you, that the new institution is infinitely bet- ter obeyed than the ancient government ever was in its most fortunate periods. Obedience is what makes government, and not the names by which it is called ; not the name of governor, as for- merly, or committee, as at present. This new government has originated directly from the peo- ple, and was not transmitted through any of the ordinary artificial media of a positive constitution. It was not a manufacture ready formed, and trans- mitted to them in that condition from England. The evil arising from hence is this : that the col- onists having once found the possibility of enjoy- ing the advantages of order in the midst of a struggle for liberty, such struggles will not hence- forward 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 de- nial of the exercise of government to still greater lengths, we wholly abrogated the ancient gov- ernment of Massachusetts. We were confident that the first feeling, if not the very prospect of anarchy, would instantly enforce a complete sub- mission. 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 considera- ble degree of health and vigor, for near a twelve- month, without governor, without public coun- cil, without judges, without executive magis- trates. How long it will continue in this state, or what may arise out of this unheard-of situa- tion, how can the wisest of us conjecture ? Our late experience has taught us, that many of those fundamental principles, formerly believed infalli- ble, are either not of the importance they were imagined to be, or that we have not at all ad- verted to some other far more important and for more powerful principles, which entirely over- rule those we had considered as omnipotent. I am much against any farther experiments, which tend to put to the proof any more of these allow- ed opinions, which contribute so much to the pub- lic tranquillity. In effect, we suffer as much at home by this loosening of all ties, and this con- cussion of all established opinions, as we do abroad. For, in order to prove that the Amer- icans have no right to their liberties, we are ev- ery day endeavoring 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 w^e never seem to gain a paltry advantage over them in debate, without attacking some of those principles, or deriding some of those feel- ings, for which our ancestors have shed their blood. But, sir, in wishing to put an end to pernicious experiments, I do not mean to pre- oniy three po* clude the fullest inquiry. Far from deati„T«.?th°^ it. Far from deciding on a sudden the American or partial view, I would patiently go *^"^' ' round and round the subject, and survey it mi- nutely 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 dis- 276 MR. BURKE ON [1775. ceniing, there are but three ways of proceed infj relative !o this stubborn spirit which prevails in your colonies and disturbs your government. These ai*e, to change that spirit, as inconvenient, by removing the causes ; to prosecute it as crim- inal ; 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 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 can not get all they would have, are resolved to take nothing. (1.) The first of these plans, to change the To change it by Spirit, as inconvenieut, by removing TauZ'lnnZr- the causcs, I think is the most like a ^■'•^'^- systematic proceeding. It is radical ill its principle, but it is attended with great dif- ficulties, some of them little short, as I conceive, of impossibilities. This will appear by examin- ing into the plans which have been proposed. As the growing population of 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 farther grants of land. But to this scheme there are two objections. The first, that thei-e is already so much unsettled land in private hands as to afford room for an im- mense 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 av- arice of desolation, this hoarding of a royal wil- derness, would be to raise the value of the pos- sessions in the hands of the great private monop- olists without any adequate check to the growing pnd 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 ill many places. You can not station garrisons in every part of these deserts. If you drive the jieople from one place, they will carry on their annual 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 dis- owned ; would become hordes of English Tar- tars ; and, pouring down upon your unfortified frontiers a fierce and irresistible cavalry, be- come masters of your governors and your coun- selors, your collectors and controllers, and of all the slaves that adhei-ed to them.'** Such would, '^ It is in descriptions of this kind that Mr. Burke is more truly admirable than in those of a brilliant and imaginative character which precede. and, in no long time, must be the effect of at- tempting to forbid as a crime, and to suppress as an evil, the command and blessing of Providence. " Increase and multiply." Such would be the happy result of an endeavor 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 estab- lishments. 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 project of hedging in population to be neither pru- dent nor practicable. To impoverish the colonies in general, and in particular to arrest the noble course of their ma- rine enterprises, would be a more easy task. I freely confess it. We have shown a disposition to a system of this kind ; a disposition even to continue the restraint after the offense, looking on ourselves as rivals to our colonies, and per- suaded 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 moi-e than sufficient for this. I do not look on the dix-ect 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 un- derstanding 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 pro- poses to beggar its subjects into submission. But, remember, when you have completed your system of impoverishment, that nature still proceeds in her ordinary course ; that discontent will increase 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 hu- man art. We can not, 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 would hear you tell them this tale would detect the imposition. Your speech would betray you. An Englishman is the unfittest per- son on earth to argue another Englishman into slavery. I think it is nearly as little in our power to ^^ Arms remain to the plundered. 1775] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 277 change their republican religion as their free de- scent ; or to substitute the Roman Catholic as a penalty, or the Church of England as an improve- ment. 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 relig- ion. You can not 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 w^hich these lawyers sit. The army, by which we must gov- ern 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 an 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 per- suade 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 w^hen we talk of enfran- chisement, do we not perceive that the Ameri- can master may enfranchise too, and arm servile hands in defense of freedom? A measure to which other people have had recourse more than once, and not without success, in a desperate situ- ation of their affaii-s. 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 (juarrel with those masters is their refusal to deal any more in that inhuman traffic ? An offer of freedom from England w^ould come rather odd- ly, 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 attempt 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 can not pump this dry : and as long as it continues in its present bed, so long all the causes which weak- en 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 these serious wishes of very grave and solemn politicians. (2.) If then, sir, it seems almost desperate to think of any alterative course for chancrinjT the moral causes (and not quite easy to remove tho natural) which produce the prejudices to prosecute irreconcilable to the late exercise of '^^''^mnin^. our authority, but that the spirit infallibly wall continue, and, continuing, will produce such ef- fects as now embarrass us, the second mode un- der 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 be- tween 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 a whole peo- ple. I can not insult and ridicule the feelings of millions of my fellow-creatures, as Sir Edward Coke insulted one excellent individual [Sir Walter Raleigh] at the bar.'"^ I am not ripe to pass sen- tence on the gravest public bodies, intrusted 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 human- ity, not mild and merciful. Perhaps, sir, I am mistaken in ray idea of an empire, as distinguished from a single Distinction be- .state or kingdom. But my idea of it pTrrrndTkhTg- is this : that an empire is the aggre- """'■ gate of many states, under one common head, whether this head be a monarch or a presiding republic. It does, in such constitutions, frequent- ly happen (and nothing but the dismal, cold, dead uniformity of servitude can prevent its happen- ing) that the subordinate parts have many local privileges and immunities. Between these priv- ileges 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 ex- emption, in the case, from the ordinary exercise 21 See Howell's State Trials, vol. ii., p. l,et seq., for an exhibition of coarse and brutal treatment, which Jeffries never surpassed. The following may serve as a specimen : Coke. I will prove you the no- toriest traitor that ever came to the bar. Raleigh. Your words can not condemn me ; my innocency is my defense. Coke. Thou art a monster. Thou hast an English face, but a Spanish heart. Raleigh. Let me answer for myself. Coke. Thou shalt not. Ra- leigh. It concerneth my life. Coke. Oh! Do I touch j-ou ? Now see the most lioirible practices that ever came out of the bottomless pit of the lowest hell. Raleigh. Here is no treason of mine. If Lord Cob- ham be a traitor, what is that to me ? Coke. AH that he did was by thy instigation, thou viper. Such was the language by which officers of justice recom- mended themselves to the favor of James I. 278 MR. BURKE ON [1775. 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 priv- ileo;es of a state or of a person who has no su- perior, is hardly any better than speaking non- sense. Now, in such unfortunate quarrels among the component parts of a great political union of communities, I can scarcely conceive any thing more completely imprudent than for the head of the empire to insist that, if any privilege is pleaded against his will or his acts, that his ivholc authority is denied ; instantly to proclaim rebellion, to beat to arms, and to put the offend- ing provinces under the ban. Will not this, sir, very soon teach the provinces to make no distinc- tions on their part ? Will it not teach them that the government against which a claim of liberty is tantamount 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 colo- nies, 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. In- stead of filling me with pride, I am exceeding- ly humbled by it. I can not pi'oceed with a stern, assured, judicial confidence, until I find myself in something more like a judicial char- acter. 1 must have these hesitations as long as I am compelled to recollect that, in my little reading upon 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 favor would not put me much at my ease in passing sentence, unless I could be sure that there were no rights w^hich, in their exercise under certain circumstances, were not the most odious of all wrongs, and the most vexatious of all injustice. Sir, these con- siderations 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 point of right and a culprit before me ; while I sit as criminal judge on acts of his whose moral quality is to be decided on upon the merits of that very litigation. JNIen 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 con- vinces 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 Massachusetts Bay, as they had formerly addressed to have traitors brought hither, under an act of Hem-y the Eighth, for trial. For, though rebellion is declared, it is not proceeded against as such ; nor have any steps been taken toward the apprehension or conviction of any individual offender, either on 22 From the very import of the term. 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 quali- fied hostility toward an independent power than the punishment of rebellious subjects. All this seems rather inconsistent ; but it shows how dif- ficult 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 ad- vances have we made toward our object by the sending of a force which, by land and sea, is no contemptible strength ? Has the disorder abat- ed ? Nothing less. When I see things in this situation, after such confident hopes, bold prom- ises, and active exertions, I can not, for my life, avoid a suspicion that the plan itself is not cor- rectly 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 applica- ble, 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 concili- ate and concede, let us see, II. Of what nature the concession ought TO BE. To ascertain the nature of Theconression 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 Parliament in which they are not rep- resented. If you mean to satisfy them at all, you must satisfy them with regard to this com- plaint. If you mean to please any people, you must give them the boon which they ask ; not what you may think better 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 satis- faction. Sir, I think you must perceive that I am re- solved this day to have nothing at all Rj„|,toftnxa- to do wnth the question of the right t'"" "^t to be (. • r>T <-i , discussed. ot taxation.--* Some gentlemen star- tle, but it is true. I put it totally out of the question. It is less than nothing in my consid- eration. 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 whol- es Mr. Burke here shows one of his most striking peculiarities as a reasoner on political subjects, viz., his fixed determination never to discuss them on the ground of me'-e abstract i-ight. His mind fast- ened upon prescription as the principal guide in all such cases. We see it as fully in his early speech- es as in his Reflections on the French Revolution. 1775.] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 279 ly limited to the policy of the question. I do not examine whether the giving away a man's money be a powei- excepted and reserved out of the general trust of government, and how far all mankind, in all forms of polity, are entitled 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 inseperable from the ordinary supreme power. These are deep ques- tions, where great names militate against each other ; where reason is perplexed ; and an ap- peal 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 That Serbonian bog Betwixt Damieta and Mount Cassias old, Where armies whole have sunk. Milton's Par. Lost, ii., 594. I do not intend to be overwhelmed in this 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 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 steadfastly my opinion of the absolute necessity of keeping up the concord of this em- pire 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 reg- ular compact of servitude ; that they had sol- emnly 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 gen- erations, yet I should hold myself obliged to conform to the temper I found universally prev- alent in my own day, and to govern two mill- ions of men, impatient of servitude, on the prin- ciples of freedom. I am not determining a point of law. I am restoring ti-anquillity, and the gen- eral character and situation of a people must de- termine what sort of government is fitted for them. That point nothing else can or ought to determine. My idea, therefore, without considering wheth- The Americans sr wc yield as matter of right, or the^rigusof En- g^aut as matter of favor, is to admit giishmen. ^/jg people of OUT colonics into an in- terest 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 thino- will admit, that we mean forever to adhere to that solemn declaration of systematic indulg- ence. Some years ago, the repeal of a revenue act, upon its understood principle, might Taxation for have served to show that we intended brpubTciyrc^ an unconditional abatement of the ex- -""""ted. ercise 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 farther necessary, and not more necessary for the satis- faction of the colonics, 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 misfor- tune is, we are too acute ; we are too exquisite in our conjectures of the future, for men oppress- ed with such great and present evils. The moro moderate among the opposcrs of parliamentary concession freely confess that they hope no good from taxation, but they apprehend the colonists have farther views, and, if this point were con- ceded, they would instantly attack the Trade Laws. These gentlemen are convinced that this was the intention from the beginning, and the quai-rel of the Americans with taxation was no more than a cloak and cover to this design. Such has been the language even of a gentle- man [Mr. Rice] of real moderation, and of a natural temper well adjusted to fair and equal government. I am, however, sir, not a little surprised at this kind of discourse, w^henever I hear it ; and I am the more surprised, on account of the arguments which I constantly find in com- pany with it, and which are often ux-ged 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 ^„,„„„3t,„,y restraints in trade as the Americans, of those who in- ii » 1 T 1 tt 1 i»t it. 1 sist on taxation. the noble Lord [Lord North] m the blue ribbon shall tell you that the restraints on trade are futile and useless ; of no advantage to us, and of no burden to those on whom they are imposed ; that the trade of America is not se- cured by the acts of navigation, but by the nat- ural and irresistible advantage of a commercial preference. Such is the merit of the trade laws in this posture of the debate. But when strong intern- al 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 them- selves, so as to drive the advocates of colony taxes to a clear admission of the futility of the scheme ; then, sir, the sleeping ti'ade 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 280 MR. BURKE ON [1775. 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 can not agree vsith the noble Lord, nor with the pamphlet from whence he seems to have bor- rowed these ideas, concerning the inutility of the trade laws ; for, without idolizing them, I am sure they are still, in 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 regulation.s, or that these commercial regula- tions 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 pub- The contest ^^^ ^"^ avowcd Origin of this quarrel sprung from was ou taxation. This quarrel has in- taxation. i i i t deed brought on new disputes on new questions, but certainly the least bitter, and the fewest of all, on the trade law^s. 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 dis- pute is not upon what it is avowed to be. And I would, sir, recommend to your serious consid- eration, 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. But the colonies will go farther. Alas ! alas ! oi.jection that whcn wiU this speculating against resirttfNavl" fact and rcasou end? What will gation Act. quiet these panic fears which we en- tertain of the hostile effect of a conciliatory con- duct ? Is it true that no case can exist in which it is proper for the sovereign to accede to the de- sires of his discontented subjects ? Is there any thing peculiar in this case to make a rule for it- .self? Is all authority of course lost, when it is not pushed to the extreme ? Is it a certain max- im, 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 de- fiance 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 endeav- ored to put myself in that frame of principles and mind which was the most natural c^'i'iiuaion^a and the most reasonable, and which ^aie guide. was certainly the most probable means of secur- ing 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 pro- found 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 obtained 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 w^as common for their statesmen to say, that they ought to consult the genius of Philip the Second. The genius of Philip the Second might mislead them ; and the issue of their affairs showed 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 ge- nius of the English constitution. Consulting at that oracle (it was with all due humility and pi- ety), I found four capital examples in a similar case before me : those of Ireland, Wales, Ches- ter, and Durham. (1.) Ireland, before the English conquest, though never governed by a despotic First ex- power, had no Parliament. How far the ^"^p'^' English Parliament itself was at that time mod- eled according to the present foi-ra, is disput- ed 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 im- provement 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 flour- ished there. Magna Charta, if it did not give us originally the House of Commons, gave us, at least, a House of Commons of weight and conse- quence. But your ancestors did not churlishly sit down alone to the feast of Magna Charta. Ireland was made immediately a partaker. This 2* The Witenagemote, or national council, whose consent was requisite for the enactment of laws, may be considered as the Parliament of the Anglo- Saxon times. It was composed of the bishops and abbots, the aldermen or governors of counties (after- ward called earls), and those landed proprietors who were possessed of about four or five thousand acres. The boroughs do not appear, at this early period, to have sent any representatives. Magna Charta ex- pressly provided, that " no scutage or aid" (with three exceptions) " shall be raised in our kingdom but by the general council of the nations," and this was de- scribed as composed of "the prelates and greater barons." The first representation of the Commons ill Parliament is now generally agreed to have taken ])lace toward the close of the reign of Henry III., or about A.D. 1264. 1775.] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 281 benefit of English laws and liberties, I confess, wa.s not at first extended to all Ireland. Mark the consequence. English authority and English liberty had exactly the same boundaries. Your standard could never be advanced an inch before your privileges.^^ Sir John Davis shows beyond a doubt, that the refusal of a general communi- cation of these rights was the true 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 constitu- tion, 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 suc- cession 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, forever, by the glorious rev- olution. This has made Ireland the great and flourishing kingdom that it is ; and from a dis- grace and a burden intolerable to this nation, has rendered her a principal part of our strength and ornament. This country can not 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 ex- ample. 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 suffei-ed 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 w^ould starve, if they had no other fund to live on than taxes granted by English authority. Turn your eyes to those pop- ular grants from whence all your great supplies are come, and learn to respect that only source of public wealth in the British empire. (2.) My next example is Wales. This coun- second ex- try was said to be reduced by Henry the ample. Third.^s It was said more truly to be so by Edward the First. But though then con- ^ 25 The English settlers in Ireland, after the inva- sion of Strongbow, kept themselves within certain limits distinct from the natives, called " the Pale." They enjoyed English law, vtrhile the natives were for a long time denied it ; and this gave rise to in- cessant contentions. By an act of James I., the priv- ileges of the Pale were extended to all Ireland. 26 Wales was held in vassalage by Henry III. through its Prince Llewellen, who in this way pur- chased the aid of Henry against a rebellious son; but was not reduced under English sway as part of the kingdom till the time of Edward I. quered, it was not looked upon as any part of the realm of England. Its old constitution, what- ever 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 sin- gular 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 command- er-in-chief at present, to whom all civil power is granted as secondar3^ The manners of the Welsh nation followed the genius of the govern- ment. The people were ferocious, restive, sav- age, and uncultivated ; sometimes composed, never pacified. Wales, within itself, was in per- petual disorder ; and it kept the frontier of En- gland 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 proclama- tion (with something more of doubt on the legal- ity) the sending arms to America. They dis- armed 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 have done (but with more hardship) with regard to America. By another act, where one of the parties was an En- glishman, 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 prec- edents 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 burden ; and that an Englishman traveling in that country could not go six yai'ds from the highroad without be- ing murdered. The march of the human mind is slow. Sir, it was not until after two hundred years discov- ered that, by an eternal law. Providence had de- creed vexation to violence, and poverty to rapijne. 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 tyr- annies the least be endured, and that laws made against a w^hole nation were not the most effect- ual methods for securing its obedience. Accord- ingly, in the twenty-seventh year of Henry VIII., the course was entirely altered. With a pream- ble stating the entire and perfect rights of the Crown of England, it gave to the Welsh all the 182 MR. BURKE ON [1775. 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, 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 com- plete 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 vefulsit, Defluit saxis agitatus humor: Concidunt venti, fugiuntque nubes ; Et minax (quod sic voluere) pouto Unda recumbit.2'' (3.) The very same year the county palatine Third ex- of Chcstcr rcceivcd the same relief from ample. jj^ opprcssious and the same remedy to its disorders. Before this time Chester was lit- tle less distempered than Wales. The inhab- itants, without rights themselves, were the fit- test to destroy the rights of others ; and from thence Richard II. drew the standing army of archers with which for a time he oppressed En- gland. The people of Chester applied to Parlia- ment in a petition penned as I shall read to you : '• To the King our sovereign lord, in most hum- ble wise shown 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 bur- ges.ses within the said court ; by reason whereof the said inhabitants have hitherto sustained mani- fold 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, forasmuch as the said inhabitants have al- ways hitherto been bound by the acts and stat- utes made and ordained by your said highness and your most noble progenitors, by authority of the said court, as far forth as other counties, cit- ies, and boroughs have been, that have had their ^■^ The passag-e is taken from an Ode of Horace to Augustus Cesar, lib. i., 12, in which the poet cele- brates the praises of his imperial master by placing him on a level with gods and deified heroes. With a delicate allusion to the peaceful influence of Au- gustus, he refers to Castor and Pollux, the patron deities of mariners, and the effect of their constella- tion (the Twins) in composing tempests. When their auspicious star To the sailor shines afai% The troubled waters leave the rocks at rest: The clouds are gone, the winds are still, The angry wave obeys their will, Atid calmly sleeps upon the ocean's breast. 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 often- times touched and grieved with acts and statutes made within the said court, as well derogatory unto the most ancient jurisdictions, liberties, and privileges of your said county palatine, as preju- dicial unto the common wealth, quietness, rest, and peace of your grace's most bounden sub- jects inhabiting within the same." What did Parliament with this audacious ad- dress ? Reject it as a libel ? Treat it as an affront to government ? Spurn it as a deroga- tion 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, with- out 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 Fouithex- of Charles II. with regard to the coun- *'"'^'^- ty palatine of Durham, which is my fourth exam- ple. This county had long lain out of the pale of free legislation. So scrupulously was the ex- ample of Chester followed, that the style of the preamble is nearly the same with that of the Ches- ter 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 b« 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 pream- ble 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 can not amount to above two hundred thousand ; 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 neighborhood ; or than Chester 1775.] CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 283 and Durham, surrounded by abundance of repre- sentation that is actual and palpable ? But, sir, your ancestors thoufjht this sort of virtual repre- sentation, however ample, to be totally insuffi- cient for the freedom of the inhabitants of terri- tories that are so near, and comparatively so in- considerable. 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 America not to * ■ c , be represented a schcme for representation of the .«« rev- hither — do not delude yourselves — 'xpecrerfrom* you never can receive it — no, not a America. 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 ta- ken 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 ob- jects which you tax at home, she has performed her part to the British revenue. But with re- gard to her own internal establishments, she may, I doubt not she will, contribute in moder- ation ; 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 x'evenue, trade, or empire, my trust is in her interest in the British Constitu- ^''''^^ '°"" tion. My hold of the colonies is in the close af- fection 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 ix-on. 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 alle- giance. But let it be once understood that your government may be one thing, and their privi- leges another; that these two things may exist without any 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 sa- cred temple consecrated to our common faith, wherever the chosen race and sons of England worship Freedom, they will turn their faces to- ward you.^^ The more they multiply, the more ** This is one of those beautiful allusions to the Scriptures with which Mr. Burke so often adorns his pages. The practice among the Jews of wor- shiping toward the temple in all their dispersions, was founded on the prayer of Solomon at its dedica- tion : " Ifthy people go out to battle, or whithersoever thou shalt send them, and shall pray unto the Lord toward the city which thott hast chosen, and toward 1775.1 CONCILIATION WITH AMERICA. 291 friends you will have. The more ardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obe- dience. 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 Prus- sia ; but, until you become lost to all feeling of your true interest and your natural dignity, free- dom 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 free- dom, and you break that sole bond which origin- ally made, and must still preserve, the unity of the empire. Do not entertain so weak an imag- ination as that your registers and your bonds, your affidavits and your sufferances, your cockets and your clearances, are what form the great se- curities 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 govern- ment. Dead instruments, passive tools as thej^ are, it is the spirit of the English communion that gives all their life and efficacy to them. It is the spirit of the English Constitution, which, in- fused through the mighty mass, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies every part of the em- pire, even down to the minutest member."*-^ 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 w^hich raises your revenue ? that it is the annual vote in the Com- mittee of Supply, which gives you your army ? or that it is the Mutiny Bill which inspires it with the House that I have built for thy name, then hear thou in heaven their prayer and their supplication, and maintain their cause." — 1st Kings, ix., 44-5. Accordingly, "When Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went into his house ; and his win- dotcs being' open toicard Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime." — Dan., vi., 10. *2 The reader of Virgil will trace the origin of this beautiful sentence to the poet's description of the Animus Mundi, or soul of the universe, in the sixth book of the iEneid, lines 926-7. Spiritus iutus alit; totamque infusa per artus Mens agitat molem et magno se corpore miscit. Within a Spirit lives : a Mind infused Through every member of that mighty mass. Pervades, sustains, and actuates the whole. Mr. Burke's application of this image to the Spirit of Freedom in the English Constitution is one of the finest conceptions of his genius. The thought rises into new dignity and strength when we view it (as it lay in the mind of Burke) in connection with the sublime passage by which it was suggested. 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 3"our navy nothing but rotten timber. All this, I know w*ell enough, will sound wild and chimerical to the profane herd of those vul- gar and mechanical politicians, who have no place among us ; a sort of people who think that noth- ing 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 rul- ing and master principles, which, in the opinion of such m.en as I have mentioned, have no sub- stantial existence, are in truth every thing and all in all. Magnanimity in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom : and a great empire and lit- tle 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, Sur- sum 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 em- pire, and have made the most extensive and the only honorable conquests, not by destroying, but by promoting, the wealth, the number, the hap- piness of the human race. Let us get an Amer- ican revenue as we have got an American em- pire. 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 fclix faustumque si7)'** lay the first stone in 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 mill- ions and upward 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." On this resolution the previous question was demanded, and was carried against Mr. Burke by a majority of 270 to 78. The other resolu- tions, of course, fell to the ground. *^ " Let J our hearts rise upward," a call to silent prayer, at certain intervals of the Roman Catholic service. ** This was a form of prayer among the Romans at the commencement of any important undertaking, "that it may be happy and prosperous." 292 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. V SPEECH OF MR. BURKE AT BRISTOL, PREVIOUS TO THE ELECTION, DELIVERED SEPTEMBER 6, 1780. INTRODUCTION. Mr. Burke did not originally seek the honor of representing the city of Bristol in the House of Com- mons. On the dissolution of Parliament in 1774, he was chosen member for Malton in Yorkshire, through the influence of Lord Rockingham; and was in the act of returning thanks to his constituents, when a deputation arrived from Bristol, infoniiing him that he had been put in nomination by his friends there. He repaired immediately to the spot, and after a severe contest was elected by a considerable majority. During the six yeai's which followed, Mr. Burke was laboriously engaged in his duties as a member of Parliament. His time was so fully occupied, that while he never neglected the interests of his con- stituents, he found but little leisure or opportunity to see them in person. He was, indeed, ill fitted, in some respects, for conciliating popular favor by visits and entertainments. His studious habits and refined tastes led him to shrink from the noise and bustle of a progress among the people of Bristol, which, in so large a city, would almost of necessity assume the character of a regular canvass. In addi- tion to this, he had offended a majority of his constituents by his political conduct, especially by opposing the American war — by voting (against their positive instructions) for the grant of increased privileges to the Irish trade — by supporting Lord Beauchamp's bill for the relief of insolvent debtors — and by the share he took in the repeal of some very cruel enactments against the Roman Catholics. In this state of things, Parliament was iinexpectedly dissolved about a year before its regular term of expiration, and Mr. Burke found himself suddenly thrown, under every possible disadvantage, into the midst of a contested election. He immediately repaired to Bristol ; and, as a preliminary step, in order to try his ground, he requested a meeting of the corporation, at which he delivered the following speech in explanation and defense of his conduct. Never was there a more manly or triumphant vindication. Conscious of the rectitude of his intentions, he makes no attempt to shuflfie or evade. "No," he ex- claims, " 7 did not obey your i?istriictions. I conformed to the instructions of truth and nature, and main- tained your interest against your opinions, with the constancy that became me. A representative that was worthy of you ought to be a person of stability. I am to look, indeed, to j'our opinions; but to such opinions as you and I must have five years hence. I was not to look at the flash of the day. I knew that you chose me in my place, along with others, to be a pillar of the state, and notaweather-cochon the top of the edifice, exalted for my levity and versatility, and of no use but to indicate the shif tings of every fashionable gale." The voice of posterity has decided in Mr. Burke's favor upon all the topics here discussed; and the wonder is, that these masterly reasonings should ever have been necessary, in de- fense of measures which were equally demanded by justice and humanity, and perhaps by the very existence of the empire. This is, in many respects, the best speech of Mr. Burke for the study and imitation of a young orator. It is more simple and direct than any of his other speeches. It was addressed to merchants and busi- ness-men; and while it abounds quite as much as any of his productions in the rich fruits of political wisdom, and has occasionally very bold and striking images, it is less ambitious in style, and less proflu- ent in illustration, than his more elaborate efforts in the House of Commons. SPEECH, &c. Mr. Mayor and Gentlemen, — I am ex- tremely pleased at the appearance of this large and respectable meeting. The steps I may be obliged to take will want the sanction of a con- siderable authority ; and in explaining any thing which may appear doubtful in my public con- duct, I must naturally desire a very full audience. I have been backward to begin my canvass. The dissolution of the Parliament was uncertain ; and it did not become me, by an unseasonable importunity, to appear diffident of the fact of my six years' endeavors to please you. I had served the city of Bristol honorably ; and the city of Bristol had no reason to think that the means of honorable service to the public were become indifferent to me. I found, on my arrival here, that three gentle- men had been long in eager pursuit of . " r. Reasons for an object which but two ol us can ob- requesting tain. I found that they had all met ^'"^'^"°'- with encouragement. A contested election in such a city as this is no light thing. I paused on the brink of the precipice. These three gen- tlemen, by various merits, and on various titles, I made no doubt were worthy of your favor. I shall never attempt to raise myself by deprecia- ting the merits of my competitoi-s. In the com- plexity and confusion of these cross pursuits, I wished to take the authentic public sense of my friends upon a business of so much delicacy. I wi.shed to take your opinion along with me ; that if I should give up the contest at the very begin- 1780.] THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 293 ning, my surrender of my post may not seem the effect of inconstancy, or timidity, or anger, or dis- gust, or indolence, or any other temper unbecom- ing a man who has engaged in the public serv- ice. If, on the contrary, I should undertake the election, and fail of success, I was full as anxious that it should be manifest to the whole world that the peace of the city had not been broken by my rashness, presumption, or fond conceit of my own merit. I am not come, by a false and counterfeit show of deference to your judgment, to seduce it in my favor. I ask it seriously and unaffectedly. If you wish that I should retire, I shall not con- sider that advice as a censure upon my conduct, or an altei-ation in your sentiments, but as a rational submission to the circumstances of af- fairs. If, on the contrary, you should think it proper for me to proceed on my canvass, if you will risk the trouble on your part, I will risk it on mine. My pretensions are such as you can not be ashamed of, whether they succeed or fail. If you call upon me, I shall solicit the favor of the city upon manly ground. I come before you with the plain confidence of an honest serv- ant in the equity of a candid and discerning master. I come to claim your approbation, not to amuse you with vain apologies, or with pro- fessions still more vain and senseless. I have lived too long to be served by apologies, or to stand in need of them. The part I have acted has been in open day ; and to hold out to a con- duct, which stands in that clear and steady light for all its good and all its evil, to hold out to that conduct the paltry winking tapers of excuses and promises, I never will do it. They may obscure it with their smoke, but they never can illumine sunshine by such a flame as theirs. I am sensible that no endeavors have been left untried to injure me in your opinion. But the Transition: ^^^ ^f character is to be a shield against fhouidnot" (^(^i^rnny. I could wish, undoubtedly (if be treated idle wishcs wcrc not the most idle of cap OU8 i . ^j J things) , to make every part of my con- duct agreeable to every one of my constituents. But in so great a city, and so greatly divided as this, it is weak to expect it. In such a discord- ancy of sentiments, it is better to look to the na- ture of things than to the humors of men. The very attempt toward pleasing every body, dis- covers a temper always flashy, and often false and insincere. Therefore, as I have proceeded straight onward in my conduct, so I will proceed in my account of those parts of it which have been most excepted to. But I must first beg leave just to hint to you, that we may suffer very great detriment by being open to every talker. It is not to be imagined how much of service is lost from spirits full of activity and full of ener- gy, who are pressing, who are rushing forward to great and capital objects, when you oblige them to be continually looking back. While they are defending one service, they defraud you of a hundred. Applaud us when w^e run ; console us when we fall ; cheer us when we recover ; but let us pass on — for God's sake, let us pass on. Do you think, gentlemen, that every public act in the six years since I stood in this place before you — that all the arduous things which have been done in this eventful period, which has crowded into a few years' space the revolu- tions of an age, can be opened to you on their fair grounds in half an hour's conversation ? But it is no reason, because there is a bad mode of inquiry, that there should be no exam- ination at all. Most certainly it is our duty to examine ; it is our interest too. But it must be with discretion ; with an attention to all the cir- cumstances, and to all the motives ; like sound judges, and not like caviling pettifoggers and quibbling pleaders, prying into flaws and hunt- ing for exceptions. Look, gentlemen, to the whole tenor of your member's conduct. Try whether his ambition or his avarice have justled him out of the straight line of duty, or whether that grand foe of the oliices of active life — that master-vice in men of business, a degenerate and inglorious sloth — has made him flag, and languish in his course. This is the object of our inquiry. If our member's conduct can bear this touch, mark it for sterling. He may have fallen into errors ; he must have faults ; but our error is greater, and our fault is radically ruinous to ourselves, if we do not bear, if we do not even applaud the whole compound and mixed mass of such a character. Not to act thus is folly ; I had almost said, it is impiety. He censures God who quar- rels with the imperfections of man. Gentlemen, we must not be peevish with those who serve the people; for none will it win drive serve us while there is a Court to ^en'^ceT u.e serve, but those who are of a nice people. and jealous honor. They who think every thing, in comparison of that honor, to be dust and ashes, will not bear to have it soiled and impaired by those for whose sake they make a thousand sacrifices to preserve it immaculate and whole. We shall either drive such men from the public stage, or we shall send them to the Court for protection, where, if they must sacrifice their reputation, they will at least se- cure their intex-est. Depend upon it, that the lovers of freedom will be free. will late their conscience to please us in order after- ward to discharge that conscience which they have violated by doing us faithful and affection- ate service. If we degrade and deprave their minds by servility, it will be absurd to expect that they who are creeping and abject toward us will ever be bold and incorruptible asserters of our freedom against the most seducing and the most formidable of all powers. No ! Hu- man nature is not so formed ; nor shall we im- prove the faculties or better the morals of public men by our possession of the most infallible re- ceipt in the world for making cheats and hypo- crites. Let me say with plainness, I, who am no longer in a public character, that if by a fair, by an indulgent, by a gentlemanly behavior to our representatives, we do not give confidence to their minds and a liberal scope to their under- 294 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. standings ; if we do not permit our members to act upon a very enlarged view of things, we shall at length infallibly degrade our national representation into a confused and shuffling bus- tle of local agency. When the popular member is narrowed in his ideas, and rendered tirnid in his proceedings, the service of the Crown will be the sole nursery of statesmen. Among the frolics of the Court, it may at length take that of attending to its business. Then the monopoly of mental power will be added to the pov/er of all other kinds it possesses. On the side of the peo- ple there will be nothing but impotence ; for ig- norance is impotence ; narrowness ofmind is im- potence ; timidity is itself impotence, and makes all other qualities that go along with it impotent and useless. At present it^is the plan of the Court to make its servants insignificant. If the people should fall into the same humor, and should choose their servants on the same pi'inciples of mere obsequi- ousness, and flexibility, and total vacancy or in- difference of opinion in all public matters, then no part of the state will be sound, and it will be in vain to think of saving it.^ I thought it very expedient at this time to give you this candid counsel ; and with this coun- sel I would willingly close, if the matters which at various times have been objected to me in this city concerned only myself and my own election. These charges, I think, are four in number : my Subject: charg. "eglcct of a duc attention to my con- es against Mr. stitueuts : thc uot pavinfj more fre- Burke aa repre- . . , i. j o sentativeofBris- queut visits hcrc ; my conduct on ^°'' the affairs of the first Irish trade acts ; my opinion and mode of proceeding on Lord Beauchamp's debtor's bills; and my votes on the late affairs of the Roman Catholics. All of these (except, perhaps, the first) relate to mat- ters of very considerable public concern ; and it is not lest you should censure me improperly, but lest you should form improper opinions on matters of some moment to you, that I trouble you at all upon the subject. My conduct is of small importance. I. With regard to the first charge, my friends „. . ^, have spoken to me of it in the style First Charge = „ f , , , . "^ Neglect of con- of amicablc expostulation ; not so much blaming the thing, as lament- ing the effects. Others, less partial to me, were less kind in assigning the motives. I admit, there is a decorum and propriety in a member of Parliament's paying a respectful court to his constituents. If I were conscious to myself that pleasure or dissipation, or low, unworthy occupa- tions had detained me from personal attendance on you, I would readily admit my fault, and qui- etly submit to the penalty. But, gentlemen, I live a hundred miles distance from Bristol ; and at the end of a session I come to my own house. ^ It is hardly necessary to remark how much strik- ing and just thought is crowded into this exordium and transition. It would be difficult to find any where in the same space an equal amount of weighty considerations so perfectly suited to intro- duce such a discussion. fatigued in body and in mind, to a little repose, and to a very little attention to my family and my private concerns. A visit to Bristol is always a sort of canvass, else it will do more harm than good. To pass from the toils of a session to the toils of a canvass is the farthest thing in the world from repose. I could hardly serve you as I have done and court you too. Most of you have heard that I do not very remarkably spare myself in public business ; and in the hu services private business of my constituents I '" Lont^o"- have done very near as much as those who have nothing else to do. My canvass of you was not on the 'change, nor in the county meetings, nor in the clubs of this city. It was in the House of Commons ; it was at the Custom-house ; it was at the Council; it was at the Treasury ; it was at the Admiralty. I canvassed you through your affairs, and not your persons. I was not only your representative as a body ; I was the agent, the solicitor of individuals. I ran about wherever your alfairs could call me ; and in act- ing for you, I often appeared rather as a ship-bro- ker than as a member of Parliament. There was nothing too laborious or too low for me to under- take. The meanness of the business was raised by the dignity of the object. If some lesser mat- ters have slipped through my fingers, it was be- cause I filled my hands too full, and, in my ea- gerness to serve you, took in more than my hands could grasp. Several gentlemen stand round me who are my willing witnesses, and there ai's others who, if they were here, would be still bet- ter, because they would be unwilling witnesses to the same truth. It was in the middle of a summer residence in London, and in the middle of a negotiation at the Admiralty for your trade, that I was called to Bristol ; and this late visit, at this late day, has been possibly in prejudice to your affairs. Since I have touched upon this matter, let me say, gentlemen, that if I had a dispo- Mr. Burke, on sition or a right to complain, I have reL'^Tn'to com- some cause of complaint on my side. ?'"'"• With a petition of this city in my hand, passed through the corporation without a dissenting voice, a petition in unison with almost the whole voice of the kingdom (with whose formal thanks I was covered over), while I labored on no less than five bills for a public reform,^ and fought against the opposition of great abilities, and of the greatest power, every clause, and every word of the largest of those bills, almost to the very last day of a very long session — all this time a canvass in Bristol was as calmly carried on as if I were dead. I was considered as a man wholly out of the question. While I watch- ed, and fasted, and sweated in the House of Commons, by the most easy and ordinary arts of election, by dinners and visits, by " How-do-you- dos" and " My worthy friends," I was to be qui- etly moved out of my seat ; and promises were made, and engagements entered into, without 2 Mr. Burke here refers to his bills for economical reform, which were advocated in his speech on this subject, delivered February 11th, 1780. 1780.] THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 295 any exception or reserve, as if my laborious zeal in my duty had been a regular abdication of my trust. To open my whole heart to you on this sub- Grounds of J®^*' ^ ^"^ confcss, howcvcr, that there reluctance to were Other times besides the two years in which I did visit you, when I was not wholly without leisure for repeating that mark of my respect ; but I could not bring my mind to see you. You remember that in the beginning of this American war (that era of ca- lamity, disgrace, and downfall — an era which no feeling mind will ever mention without a tear for England) you were greatly divided ; and a very strong body, if not the strongest, opposed it- self to the madness which every art and every power were employed to render popular, in or- der that the errors of the rulers might be lost in the general blindness of the nation. This oppo- sition continued until after our great, but most unfortunate victory at Long Island.^ Then all the mounds and banks of our constancy were borne down at once, and the phrensy of the Amer- ican war broke in upon us like a deluge. This victory, which seemed to put an immediate end to all difficulties, perfected in us that spirit of domination which our unparalleled prosperity had but too long nurtured. We had been so very powerful, and so very prosperous, that even the humblest of us w^ere degraded into the vices and follies of kings. We lost all measure be- tween means and ends ; and our headlong de- sires became our politics and our morals. All men who wished for peace, or retained any sen- timents of moderation, were overborne or si- lenced ; and this city was led by every artifice (and probably with more management, because I was one of your members) to distinguish itself by its zeal for that fatal cause. In this temper of yours and of my mind, I should have sooner fled to the extremities of the earth than have shown myself here. I, who saw in every Amer- ican victory (for you have had a long series of these misfortunes) the germ and seed of the na- val power of France and Spain, which all our heat and warmth against America was only hatching into life — I should not have been a welcome visitant with the brow and the lan- guage of such feelings. When afterward the other face of your calamity was turned upon you, and showed itself in defeat and distress, I shunned you full as much. I felt sorely this va- riety in our wretchedness, and I did not wish to have the least appearance of insulting you with that show of superiority which, though it may not be assumed, is generally suspected in a time of calamity from those whose previous warnings have been despised. I could not bear to show you a representative whose face did not reflect that of his constituents ; a face that could not joy in your joys and sorrow in your son'ows. 3 This occurred in August, 1776, when the army under Washington was defeated, and New York taken by the British. This success made the war popular throughout England, and created an expect- ation of the immediate reduction of the colonies. But time at length has made us all of one opin- ion; and we have all opened our eyes on the true nature of the American war, to the true nature of all its successes and all its failures. In that public storm, too, I had my private feelings. I had seen blown down and prostrate on the ground several of those houses to whom I was chiefly indebted for the honor this city has done me. I confess, that while the wounds of those I loved were yet green, I could not bear to show myself in pride and triumph in that place into which their partiality had brought me, and to appear at feasts and rejoiQi^gs, in the midst of the grief and calamity of my warm friends, my zealous supporters, my generous ben- efactors. This is a true, un\'arnished, undisguis- ed state of the affair. You will judge of it. This is the only one of the charges in which I am personally concerned. As to the other matters objected against me, which in their turn I shall mention to you, remember once more I do not mean to extenuate or excuse. Why should I, w'hen the things charged are among those upon w^hich I found all m}' reputation ? What would be left to me, if I myself was the man who softened, and blended, and diluted, and weaken- ed, all the distinguishing colors of my life, so as to leave nothing distinct and determinate in my whole conduct?* II. It has been said, and it is the second charge, that in the questions of the Irish § o a h <>• • trade I did not consult the interest Givm^ free trade P . , , to Ireland. oi my constituents, or, to speak out strongly, that I rather acted as a native of Ire- land, than as an English member of Parliament. I certainly have very warm, good wishes for the place of my birth. Bat the sphere of ray duties is my true country. It was as a man at- tached to your interests, and zealous for the con- servation of your power and dignit}^, that I act ed on that occasion, and on all occasions. You were involved in the American war. A new w^orld of policy was opened, to which it was necessary we should conform, whether we would or not ; and my only thought was how to con- form to our situation in such a manner as to unite to this kingdom, in prosperity and in affec- tion, w^iatever remained of the empire. I was true to my old, standing, invariable principle, that all things which came from Great Britain should issue as a gift of her bounty and benefi- * It is an old adage, that the audience makes the orator; and it is certainly the fact that Mr. Burke, in speaking thus largely of himself before a body of plain men like the people of Bristol, was entirely free from that appearance of display, and that intru- sion of what is purely fanciful, which sometimes marked his performances in the House of Commons. Never was a defense more ingenious, and yet more simple and manly. There is no affected modesty about it, nor is there the slightest appearance of vanity or arrogance. If any one should consider be- forehand what kind of answer was to be given to so frivolous an objection, it would hardly seem pos- sible to frame one containing so much solid and in- genious thought, and yet so perfectly suited to the nature of the case. 296 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. cence, rather than as claims recovered against a struggling litigant ; or at least, that if your be- neficence obtained no credit in your concessions, yet that they should appear the salutary provi- sions of your wisdom and foresight ; not as things wrung from you with your blood, by the cruel gripe of a rigid necessity. The first conces- sions, by being (much against my will) mangled and stripped of the parts which were necessaiy to make out their just correspondence and con- nection in trade, were of no use. The next year a feeble attempt was made to bring the thing into better shape. This attempt (countenanced by the Minister), on the very first appearance of .some popular uneasiness, was, after a consider- able progress through the House, thrown out by What was the consequence ? The whole „ , , kingdom of Ireland was instantlv in a Demanded „ rr<< ^ ^ r • " i by the Irish flame. Threatened by loreigners, and, inarms. ^^ ^^^^^ thought, insultcd b}' England, they resolved at once to resist the power of 5 Ireland was reduced to so much distress by the stoppage of trade during the American war, that Lord Nugent offered a number of resolutions in 1778 for removing the restrictions of the Navigation Act, and allowing her a large participation in the com- merce of the world. Tliis was vehemently opposed by Bristol, in common with the other great commer- cial towns ; but Mr. Burke felt himself bound to sup- port the measure against the wishes and instruc- tions of his constituents. The ministry, however, became alarmed by the clamor, and nothing effect- ual was done. In 1779, another attempt of the same nature was made by Lord Nugent, with Lord North's approbation ; but the minister became alarmed again, and defeated the plan. The Irish, indignant at this treatment, now formed associations (after the exam- ple of the Americans) to abstain from the use of all English manufactured articles. Associations of a still more alarming character had already commen- ced. The French and Spanish fleets effected a junction in August, 1779, and, driving back the En- glish fleet (which was much inferior), swept the channel without resistance or molestation, and threatened a descent on Ireland. The people, left without protection by the English government, flew to arms; a part of them under an implied authority from the magistrates, and part with no authority but the necessity of national defense. The celebrated corps of Irish Volunteers, consisting of between forty and fifty thousand men, was embodied, armed, and officered, within a few weeks. The Irish Par- liament met shortly after, and approved their con- duct by a unanimous vote of thanks. With these troops at their command, they sent a significant ad- dress to the King, declaring that "it was not by temporary expedients, but by a. free trade that the nation was to be saved from impending ruin." To enforce this address, they limited their supplies to the period of six months, instead of the ordinary term of two years. It was now obvious that a re- bellion in Ireland would be added to that in the colonies, unless the ministry yielded at once. The whole nation " had their face toward America, and their back toward England." Hence the instan- taneous concessions so graphically described by Mr. Burke. Even the woolen trade — " the sacred fleece" — which the English had guarded with such jealous care, was thrown open to the Irish. France, and to cast ofT yours. As for us, we were aHe neither to protect nor to restrain them. Forty thousand men were raised and disciplined without commission from the Crown. Two illegal armies were seen with banners dis- played at the same time, and in the same coun- try. No executive magistrate, no judicature in Ireland, would acknowledge the legality of the army which bore the King's commission ; and no law, or appearance of law, authorized the army commissioned by itself. In this unexam- pled state of things, which the least error, the least trespass on the right or left, would have hurried down the precipice into an abyss of blood and confusion, the people of Ireland de- mand a freedom of trade with arms in their hands. They interdict all commerce between the two nations. They deny all new supply in the House of Commons, although in time of war. They stint the trust of the old revenue, given for two years to all the King's predecessors, to six months. The British Parliament, in a former session frightened into a limited concession by the menaces of Ireland, frightened out of it by the menaces of England, was now frightened back again, and made a universal surrender of all that had been thought the peculiar, reserved, uncommunicable rights of England — the exclu- sive commerce of America, of Africa, of the "West Indies — all the enumerations of the Acts of Navigation — all the manufactm-es, iron, glass, even the last pledge of jealousy and pride, the interest hid in the secret of our hearts, the in- veterate prejudice molded into the constitution of our frame, even the sacred fleece itself,^ all went together. No reserve ; no exception ; no debate ; no discussion. A sudden light broke in upon us all. It broke in, not through well-con- trived and well-disposed windows, but through flaws and breaches; through the yawning chasms of our ruin. We were taught wisdom by humiliation. No town in England presumed to have a prejudice, or dared to mutter a peti- tion. What was worse, the whole Parliament of England, which retained authority for nothing but surrenders, was despoiled of every shadow of superintendence. It was, without any quali- fication, denied in theor}', as it had been tram- pled upon in practice. This scene of shame and disgrace has, in a manner while I am speakings ended by the perpetual establishment of military power, in the dominions of this Crown, without consent of the British Legislature, contrary to the policy of the constitution, contrary to the declaration of right -, ''' and by this your liberties ^ The allusion here is to the story of the Argo- nauts, and the golden fleece of Colchis, which was guarded by a dragon that never slept. Many have supposed this to be a historical myth, relating to the first introduction of sheep into Greece from the Euxine for the sake of their wool, and Mr. Burke perhaps so regarded it. The image that ibllows is one of the strongest to be found in the speeches of Mr. Burke or any other orator. '' The Irish Parliament, flushed by their success in respect to trade, passed a bill enacting that the 1780.J THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 297 are swept away along with your supreme au- thority — and both, linked together from the be- ginning, have, I am afraid, both together perish- ed forever. What! gentlemen, was I not to foresee, oi*. Course of foreseeing, was I not to endeavor to Mr. Burke, gave you ffom all these multiplied mis- chiefs and disgraces ? Would the little, silly, can- vass prattle of obeying instructions, and having no opinions but yours, and such idle, senseless tales, which amuse the vacant ears of unthink- ing men, have saved you from " that pelting of the pitiless storm," to which the loose improvi- dence, the cowardly rashness of those who dare not look danger in the face, so as to provide against it in time, and therefore throw them- selves headlong into the midst of it, have expos- ed this degraded nation, beat down and prostrate on the earth, unsheltered, unarmed, unresisting? Was I an Irishman on that day, that I boldly withstood our pride ? or on the day that I hung down my head, and wept in shame and silence over the humiliation of Great Britain ? I be- came unpopular in England for the one, and in Ireland for the other.^ What then ? What ob- ligation lay on me to be popular ? I was bound to serve both kingdoms. To be pleased with my service was their affair, not mine. I was an Irishman in the Iri.sh business, just as He acted in re- "luch as I was an American, when, ^P'i'^S^"]'"^'*"'' on the same principles, I wished you as lie had previ- i « • • to concede to America, at a time when she prayed concession at our feet. Just as much was I an American, when I wished Parliament to offer terms in victory, and not to wait the well-chosen hour of defeat, for making good, by weakness and by supplica- tion, a claim of prerogative, pre-eminence, and authority. Instead of requiring it from me as a point of duty to kindle with your passions, had you all been as cool as I was, you would have been saved dis- graces and distresses that are unutterable. Do you remember our commission ? We sent out a solemn embassy across the Atlantic Ocean, to lay the crown, the peerage, the Commons of Great Britain, at the feet of the American Con- gress.^ That our disgrace might want no sort pre ously done in re- gard to America. military force of Ireland should be governed by laws of their ow^n country, and not of the English Parlia- ment. Lord North yielded, and introduced an alter- ation by which the law was made perpetual. It was hence called the Irish Perpetual Mutiny Act, and was strongly condemned by Mr. Burke and many of the best friends of Ireland, for the reasons here given. 8 Mr. Burke "withstood the pride" of England, when he insisted on the grant of free trade to the Irish, who had always been treated as a conquered people ; and '' wept in shame and silence over the humiliation of Great Britain," when the Irish Per- petual Mutiny Act was passed. The former made him unpopular in England, the latter in Ireland. ^ This was soon after the defeat of Burgoyne ; and Mr. Burke argues, that as the people of Bristol now saw he was right in wishing to conciliate America, and prevent these disgraces, so he was also right in of brightening and burnishing, observe who they were that composed this famous embassy. My Lord Carlisle is among the first ranks of our no- bility. He is the identical man who, but two years before, had been put forward at the open- ing of a session in the House of Lords, as the mover of a haughty and rigorous address against America. He was put in the front of the em- bassy of submission. Mr. Eden was taken from the office of Lord Suffolk, to whom he was then under Secretary of State ; from the office of that Lord Suffolk, who, but a few weeks before, in his place in Parliament, did not deign to inquire where a congress of vagrants was to be found. This Lord Suffolk sent Mr. Eden to find these vagrants, without knowing where his King's gen- erals were to be found, who were joined in the same commission of supplicating those whom they were sent to subdue. They enter the cap- ital of America only to abandon it ; and these assertors and representatives of the dignity of England, at the tail of a flying army, let fly their Parthian shafts of memorials and remonstrances at random behind them. Their promises and their oflers, their flatteries and their menaces, were all despised ; and we were saved the disgrace of their formal reception, only because the Congress scorned to receive them ; while the State House of independent Philadelphia opened her doors to the public entry of the embasador of France. From war and blood we went to submission ; and from submission plunged back again to war and blood ; to desolate and be desolated, without mea- sure, hope, or end. I am a Royalist : I blushed for this degradation of the Crown. 1 am a Whig : I blu.shed for the dishonor of Parliament. I am a true Englishman : I felt to the quick for the disgrace of England. I am a man : I felt for the melancholy reverse of human affairs, in the fall of the first power in the world. To read what was approaching in Ireland, in the black and bloody characters of the American war, was a painful, but it was a necessary part of my public duty ; for, gentlemen, it is not your fond desires or mine that can alter the na- ture of things ; by contending against which what have we got, or shall ever get, but defeat and shame ? I did not obey your instructions ! No, I conformed to the instructions of truth and na- ture, and maintained your interest against your opinions with a constancy that became me. A representative worthy of you ought to be a per- son of stability. I am to look, indeed, to your opinions ; but to such opinions as you and I must have five years hence. I was not to look to the flash of the day : I knew that you chose me, in my place along with others, to be a pillar of the state, and not a weather-cock on the top of the edifice, exalted for my levity and versatility, and of no use but to indicate the shiftings of every fashionable gale. Would to God, the value of my sentiments on Ireland and on America had been at this day a subject of doubt and discussion ! voting for an extension of trade to Ireland, as measure of conciliation for that country. 298 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. No matter what my sufferings had been, so that this kingdom had kept the authority I wished it to maintain, by a grave foresight, and by an equi- table temperance in the use of its power. III. Tiie next article of charge on my public Third ciiar-e- ^onduct, and that which I find rather Reiierofin,''oi- the most prevalent of all, is Loi'd Beauchamp's bill.^° I mean his bill of last session, for reforming the law-process con- cerning imprisonment. It is said (to aggravate the offense) that I treated the petition of this city with contempt, even in presenting it to the House, and expressed myself in terms of marked disrespect. Had this latter part of the charge been true, no merits on the side of the question which I took could possibly excuse me. But I am incapable of treating this city with disrespect. Very fortunately, at this minute (if my bad eye- sight does not deceive me), the worthy gentle- man [Mr. Williams], deputed on this business, stands directly before me. To him I appeal, whether I did not, though it militated with my oldest and my most recent public opinions, deliv- er the petition with a strong and more than usual recommendation to the consideration of the House, on account of the character and conse- quence of those who signed it. I believe the worthy gentleman will tell you, that the very day I received it I applied to the solicitor, now the attorney general, to give it an immediate con- sideration, and he most obligingly and instantly consented to employ a great deal of his very val- uable time to write an explanation of the bill. I attended the committee with all possible care and diligence, in order that every objection of yours might meet with a solution, or produce an alter- ation. I entreated your learned recorder (always ready in business in which you take a concern) to attend. But what will you say to those who blame me for supporting Lord Beauchamp's bill, as a disrespectful treatment of your petition, when you hear that, out of respect to you, I my- self was the cause of the loss of that very bill ? For the noble Lord who brought it in, and who, I must say, has much merit for this and some other measures, at my request consented to put it off" for a week, which the speaker's illness lengthened to a fortnight ; and then the frantic tumult about popery drove that and every ra- tional business from the House. ^^ So that if I chose to make a defense of myself, on the little principles of a culprit, pleading in his exculpa- 10 This bill (introduced Feb. 10, 1780) allowed an imprisoned debtor, who gave up all his property, and made oath that he was not worth five pounds in the world, except the bedding of his wife and the clothes of his children, to appear before a court. This court was strictly to investigate the facts, and release him if they saw fit, from imprisonment, though not from bis debt, for which his future earnings were still liable. This bill Mr. Burke supported. It was lost, however, in the way mentioned above. And yet at Bristol he was overwhelmed with obloquy, for giv- ing his countenance to this imperfect measure of justice and humanity, and actually lost his election chiefly on this ground. *^ The ' No Popery" riots which for some days tion, I might not only secure my acquittal, but make merit with the opposers of the bill. But I shall do no such thing. The truth is, that I did occasion the loss of the bill, and by a delay caused by my respect to you. But such an event was never in my contemplation ; and I am so far from taking credit for the defeat of that measure, that I can not sufficiently lament my misfortune, if but one man who ought to be at large has passed a year in prison by my means. I am a debtor to the debtors : I confess judgment : I owe what, if ever it be in my power, I shall most certainly pay — ample atonement, and usurious amends to liberty and humanity for my unhappy lapse. For, gentlemen. Lord Beauchamp's bill was a law of justice and policy, as far as it went ; I say as far as it w-ent, for its fault was its being, in the remedial part, miserably defective. There are two capital faults in our law with relation to civil debts. One is, that ^ ' Errors of the every man is presumed solvent: a law for the re- • . 1 , covery of debts. presumption, in innumerable cases, directly against truth. Therefore the debtor is ordered, on a supposition of ability and fraud, to be coerced his liberty until he makes payment. By this means, in all cases of civil insolvency without a pardon from his creditor, he is to be imprisoned for life ; and thus a miserable, mis- taken invention of artificial science, operates to change a civil into a criminal judgment, and to scourge misfortune or indiscretion with a punish- ment which the law does not inflict on the great- est crimes. The next fault is, that the inflicting of that pun- ishment is not on the opinion of an equal and pub- lic judge, but is referred to the arbitrary discretion of a private, nay, interested and irritated individ- ual. He who formally is, and substantially ought to be the judge, is in reality no more than minis- terial, a mere executive instrument of a private man, who is at once judge and party. Every idea of judicial order is subverted by this pro- cedure. If the insolvency be no crime, why is it punished with arbitrary imprisonment ? If it be a crime, why is it delivered into private hands to pardon without discretion, or to punish without mercy and without measure ? To these faults, gross and cruel faults in our law, the excellent principle of Lord „ T. 1 ) 1 -11 1- J Remedy pro- Beauchamp s bill applied some sort posed by Lord of remedy. I know that credit must ''*"*^ ^'^^' be preserved, but equity must be preserved too; and it is impossible that any thing should be nec- essary to commerce which is inconsistent with justice. The principle of credit was not weak- ened by that bill. God forbid ! The enforcement of that credit was only put into the same public judicial hands on which we depend for our lives, and all that makes life dear to us. But, indeed, this business was taken up too warmly, both here and elsewhere. The bill was extremely mistak- en. It was suppo.sed to enact what it never en- acted ; and complaints were made of clauses in involved Parliament in danger, and brought London to the verge of a general conflagi'atiou. 1780.J THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 299 it as novelties, which existed before the noble Lord that brought in the bill was born. There was a fallacy that ran through the whole of the objections. The gentlemen who opposed the bill always argued as if the option lay between that bill and the ancient law ; but this is a grand mis- take ; for practically the option is between, not that bill and the old law, but between that bill and those occasional laws called " acts of grace." For the opei-ation of the old law is so savage, and so inconvenient to society, that, for a long time past, once in every Parliament, and lately twice, the Legislature has been obliged to make a gen- eral arbitrary jail delivery, and at once to set open, by its sovereign authority, all the prisons in England. Gentlemen, I never relished acts of grace, nor ever submitted to them, but from de- the worst pos- spair of better. They are a dishonor- s.bie remedy, ^^^j^ invention, by which, not from hu- manity, not from policy, but merely because w^e have not room enough to hold these victims of the absurdity of our laws, we turn loose upon the public three or four thousand naked wretches, corrupted by the habits, debased by the ignominy of a prison. If the creditor had a right to those carcasses as a natural security for his property, I am sure we have no right to deprive him of that security ; but if the few pounds of flesh were not necessary to his security, we had not a right to detain the unfortunate debtor, without any bene- fit at all to the person who confined him. Take it as you will, we commit injustice. Nov/ Lord Beauchamp's bill intended to do deliberately, and with great caution and circumspection, upon each several case, and with all attention to the just claimant, what acts of grace do in a much great- er measure, and with very little care, caution, or deliberation. I suspect that here, too, if vre contrive to op- The existing posc this bill, wc shall be found in a to teToMg°en^'* Struggle against the nature of things ; dured. for^ as we grow enlightened, the pub- lic will not bear, for any length of time, to pay for the maintenance of whole armies of prison- ers ; nor, at their own expense, submit to keep jails as a sort of garrisons, merely to fortify the absurd principle of making men judges in their own cause. For credit has little or no concern in this cruelty. I speak in a commercial assem- bly. You know that credit is given because cap- ital 7nust be employed ; that men calculate the chances of insolvency ; and they cither withhold the credit or make the debtor pay the risk in the price. The counting-house has no alliance with the jail. Holland understands trade as well as we, and she has done much more than this obnox- ious bill intended to do. There was not, when Mr. Howard visited Holland, more than one pris- oner for debt in the great city of Rotterdam. Al- though Lord Beauchamp's [other] act (which was previous to this bill, and intended to feel the way for it) has already preserved liberty to thou- sands, and though it is not three years since the last act of grace passed, yet, by Mr. Howard's last account, there were near three thousand again in jail. 1 can not name this gentleman without re- mai'king that his labors and writings have done much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind. He has visited all Europe, not to survey the sumptu- ousness of palaces or the stateliness of temples ; not to make accurate measurements of the re- mains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of the curiosity of modern art ; not to collect medals, or collate manuscripts, but to dive into the depths of dungeons ; to plunge into the infection of hos- pitals ; to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain , to take the gage and dimensions of misery, de- pression, and contempt ; to remember the forgot- ten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsak- en, and to compare and collate the distresses of all men in all countries. His plan is original, and it is as full of genius as it is of humanity. It was a voyage of discovery ; a circumnaviga- tion of charity. Already the benefit of his la- bor is felt more or less in every country : I hope he will anticipate his final reward, by seeing all its effects fully realized in his own. He will re ceive, not by retail, but in gross, the reward of those who visit the prisoner ; and he has so fore- stalled and monopolized this branch of charity, that there w^ill be, I trust, little room to merit by such acts of benevolence hereafter, ^^ IV, Nothing now remains to trouble you with but the fourth charge against me — ... o 1 r, ^ , Fourth Charge: the busmess ot the Roman Catho- Relief of Komar lics.^^ It is a business closely con- nected with the rest. They are all on one and the same pi'inciple. My little scheme of con- duct, such as it is, is all arranged. I could do nothing but what I have done on this subject, without confounding the whole train of my ideas and disturbing the whole order of my life. Gen- tlemen, I ought to apologize to you for seeming to think any thing at all necessary to be said upon this matter. The calumny is fitter to be scrawled with the midnight chalk of incendiaries, with " No popery," on walls and doors of devoted houses, than to be mentioned in any civilized company. I had heard that the spirit of discontent on that subject w^as very prevalent here. With pleasure I find that I have been grossly misinformed. If it exists at all in this city, the laws have crushed its exertions, and our morals have shamed its ap- pearance in daylight. I have pursued this spirit wherever I could trace it, but it still fled from me. ^2 This admirable sketch forms not only a just tribute to the labors of Mr. Howard, and a beautiful rounding off of the present head, but it has all the force of an argument from admitted facta ; for Lord Beauchamp's bill was designed to prevent tens of thousands from being immured in those very prisons whose filth and wretchedness I\Ir. Howard had laid open before the public. Mr. Burke's image of "a voyage of discovery, a circumnavigation of charity," was suggested by the exploring expedition of Cap- tain Cooke, whose recent death at Owyhee had just been heard of in England. This made the allusion one of double interest to the public, who were at that time lamenting his death. '^ This charge i-elates to Mr. Burke's vote in 1773 for repealing a cruel law against the Roman Catlio- lics. This repeal gave rise to the No Popery riots. 300 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. It was a ghost which all had heard of, but none had seen. None would acknowledge that he thought the public proceeding with regard to our Catholic Dissenters to be blamable, but sev- eral were sorry it had made an ill impression upon others, and that my interest was hurt by my share in the business. I find with satisfac- tion and pride, that not above four or five in this city (and I dare say these misled by some gross misrepresentation) have signed that symbol of de- lusion and bond of sedition, that libel on the na- tional religion and English character, the Protest- ant Association.^* It is, therefore, gentlemen, not by way of cure, but of prevention, and lest the arts of wicked men may prevail over the integrity of any one among us, that I think it necessary to open to you the merits of this transaction pretty much at large ; and I beg your patience upon it ; for, although the reasonings that have been used to depreciate the act are of little force, and though the authority of the men concerned in this ill de- sign is not very imposing, yet the audaciousness of these conspirators against the national honor, and the extensive wickedness of their attempts, have raised persons of little importance to a de- gree of evil eminence, and imparted a sort of sin- ister dignity to proceedings that had their origin in only the meanest and blindest malice. In explaining to you the proceedings of Par- liament which have been complained of, I will state to you, first, the thing that was done ; next, the persons who did it ; and, lastly, the grounds and reasons upon which the Legislature pro- ceeded in this deliberate act of public justice and public prudence. 1. Gentlemen, the condition of our nature is Causes which ^^^di, that we buy our blessings at a led to severe pricc. The Reformation, one of the measures ^ • i p i • against Roman greatest pcriods ot human miprove- ^ '""'^" ment, was a time of trouble and con- fusion. The vast structure of superstition and tyranny which had been for ages in rearing, and which was combined with the interest of the great and of the many ; which was molded into the laws, the manners, and civil institutions of na- tions, and blended with the frame and policy of states, could not be brought to the ground with- out a fearful struggle ; nor could it fall without a violent concussion of itself and all about it. When this great revolution was attempted in a more regular mode by government, it was op- posed by plots and seditions of the people ; when by popular efforts, it was repressed as rebellion by the hand of power; and bloody executions (often bloodily returned) marked the whole of its progress through all its stages. The affairs of religion, which are no longer heard of in the tu- mult of our present contentions, made a principal ingredient in the wars and politics of that time ; the enthusiasm of religion threw a gloom over the politics, and political interests poisoned and perverted the spirit of religion upon all sides. ^* Those who siijned the articles of this associa- tion became pledged to use all the efforts in their power to obtain the re-enactment of the law in ques- tion. The Protestant religion, in that violent struggle, infected, as the Popish had been before, by world- ly interests and worldly passions, became a per- secutor in its turn, sometimes of the new sects, which carried their own principles farther than it was convenient to the original reformers, and always of the body from whom they parted ; and this persecuting spirit arose not only from the bitterness of retaliation, but from the merci- less policy of fear. It was long before the spirit of true piety and true wisdom, involved in the principles of refor- mation, could be depurated from the dregs and feculence of the contention with which it was car- ried through. However, until this be done, the reformation is not complete ; and those that think themselves good Protestants, from their animosity to others, are in that respect no Protestants at all. It was at first thought necessary, perhaps, to op- pose to popery another popery, to get the better of it. Whatever was the cause, laws were made in many countries, and in this kingdom in partic- ular, against Papists, which are as bloody as any of those which had been enacted by the popish princes and states ; and where those laws were not bloody, in my opinion they were worse, as they were slow, cruel outrages on our nature, and kept men alive only to insult in their persons every one of the rights and feelings of humanity. I pass those statutes, because I would spare your pious ears the repetition of such shocking things ; and I come to that particular law the repeal of which has produced so many unnatural and un- expected consequences. A statute was fabricated in the year 1699 by which the saying mass (a church serv- „, Character ice in the Latin tongue, not exactly the of the law same as our Liturgy, but very near it, '"i"^^^'""- and containing no offense whatsoever against the laws or against good morals) was forged into a crime punishable with perpetual imprisonment. The teaching school, a useful and virtuous occu- pation, even the teaching in a private family, was in every Catholic subjected to the same unpro- portioned punishment. Your industry and the bread of your children was taxed for a pecuniary reward to stimulate avarice to do what nature re- fused ; to inform and prosecute on this law. Ev- ery Roman Catholic was, under the same act, to forfeit his estate to his nearest Protestant rela- lation, until, through a profession of what he did not believe, he redeemed by his hypocrisy what the law had transferred to the kinsman as the recompense of his profligacy. When thus turn- ed out of doors from his paternal estate, he was disabled from acquiring any other by any indus- try, donation, or charity, but was rendered a for- eigner in his native land, only because he re- tained the religion along with the property hand- ed down to him from those who had been the old inhabitants of that land before him. Does any one who hears me approve this scheme of things, or think there is common just- ice, common sense, or common honesty in any part of it ? If any does, let him say it, and I am ready to discuss the point with temper and can- 1780.] THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 301 dor. But instead of approving, I perceive a vir- tuous indignation beginning to rise in your minds on the mere cold stating of the statute. But what will you feel when you know from Reasons for history how this statute passed, and faw!'",fd*^mode what wcrc the motives, and what the of doing it. mode of making it? A party in this nation, enemies to the system of the Revolution, were in opposition to the government of King William. They knew that our glorious deliv- erer was an enemy to all persecution. They knew that he came to free us from slavery and popery, out of a country where a third of the people are contented Catholics under a Protest- ant government. He came, with a part of his army composed of those very Catholics, to over- set the power of a Popish prince. Such is the effect of a tolerating spirit ; and so much is lib- erty served in every way, and by all persons, by a manly adherence to its own principles. While freedom is true to itself, every thing becomes sub- ject to it, and its very adversaries are an instru- ment in its hands. The party I speak of (like some among us who would disparage the best friends of their country) resolved to make the king either violate his prin- ciples of toleration, or incur the odium of protect- ing Papists. They therefore brought in this bill, and made it purposely wicked and absurd, that it might be rejected. The then Court party, dis- covering their game, turned the tables on them, and returned their bill to them stuffed with still greater absurdities, that its loss might lie upon its original authors. They, finding their own ball thrown back to them, kicked it back again to their adversaries ; and thus this act, loaded with the double injustice of two parties, neither of ivhom intended to pass what they hoped the other would be persuaded to reject, went through the Legislature, contrary to the real wish of all parts of it, and of all the parties that composed it. In this manner these insolent and profligate factions, as if they were playing with balls and counters, made a sport of the fortunes and the liberties of their fellow-creatures. Other acts of persecution have been acts of malice. This was a subversion of justice from wantonness and pet- ulance. Look into the history of Bishop Burnet. He is a witness without exception. The effects of the act have been as mlschiev- operation ous as its Origin was ludicrous and of the law. shameful. From that time every per- son of that communion, lay and ecclesiastic, has been obliged to fly from the face of day. The clergy, concealed in garrets of private houses, or obliged to take shelter (hardly safe to themselves, but infinitely dangerous to their country) under the privileges of foreign ministers, officiated as their servants, and under their protection. The whole body of the Catholics, condemned to beg- gary and to ignorance in their native land, have been obliged to learn the principles of letters, at the hazai'd of all their other principles, from the charity of your enemies. ^^ They have been taxed 15 Hundreds were sent to the college at St. Omer to their ruin at the pleasure of necessitous and profligate relations, and according to the meas- ure of their necessity and profligacy. Examples of this are many and afl'ecting. Some of them are known to a friend who stands near me in this hall. It is but six or seven years since a clergyman of the name of Malony, a man of mor- als, neither guilty nor accused of any thing nox- ious to the state, was condemned to perpetual im- prisonment for exercising the functions of his re- ligion, and, after lying in jail two or three years, was relieved by the mercy of government from perpetual imprisonment, on condition of perpet- ual banishment. A brother of the Earl of Shrewsbury, a Talbot, a name respectable in this country while its glory is any part of its concern, was hauled to the bar of the Old Bailey among common felons, and only escaped the same doom, either by some error in the process, or that the wretch who brought him there could not coi*- rectly describe his person ; I now forget which. In short, the persecution would never have re- lented for a moment, if the judges, superseding (though with an ambiguous example) the strict rule of their artificial duty by the higher obliga- tion of their conscience, did not constantly throw every difficulty in the way of such informers. But so ineffectual is the power of legal evasion against legal iniquity, that it was but the other day that a lady of condition, beyond the middle of life, was on the point of being stripped of her whole fortune by a near relation, to whom she had been a friend and benefactor ; and she must have been totally ruined, without a power of re- dress or mitigation from the courts of law, had not the Legislature itself ru.shed in, and, by a special act of Parliament, rescued her from the injustice of its own statutes. One of the acts authorizing such things was that which we in part repealed, knowing what our duty was, and doing that duty as men of honor and virtue, as good Protestants, and as good citizens ! Let him stand forth that disapproves what we have done ! Gentlemen, bad laws are the worst sort of tvranny. In such a country as this, „ ,. V null,. 1 Peculiar malig. they are of all bad things the worst : nityof a bad 1 f ^, , 1 law in England. worse by tar than any where else ; and they derive a particular malignity even from the wisdom and soundness of the rest of our in- stitutions. For very obvious reasons, you can not trust the Crown wnth a dispensing power over any of your laws. However, a government, be it as bad as it may, will, in the exercise of a disci-etionary power, discriminate times and per- sons : and will not ordinarily pursue any man, when its own safety is not concerned. A mer- cenary informer knows no distinction. L^'nder such a system, the obnoxious people arc slaves, not only to the government, but they live at the mercy of every individual. They are at once the slaves of the whole community, and of every and other institutions in France, where a sense of wrong conspiring with the instructions of lueu at- tached to absolute monarchy, made theui enemiea of the Ene-lish government. 302 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. part of it ; and the worst and most unmerciful men are those on whose goodness they most de- pend. In this situation men not only shrink from the frowns of a stern magistrate, but they are obliged to fly from their very species. The seeds of destruction are sown in civil inter- course, in social habitudes. The blood of whole- some kindred is infected. Their tables and beds are surrounded with snares. All the means giv- en by Providence to make life safe and comfort- able are perverted into instruments of terror and torment. This species of universal subservien- cy, that makes the very servant who waits be- hind your chair the arbiter of your life and for- tune, has such a tendency to degrade and abase mankind, and to deprive them of that assured and liberal state of mind, which alone can make us what we ought to be, that I vow to God I would sooner bring myself to put a man to im- mediate death for opinions I disliked, and so to get rid of the man and his opinions at once, than to fret him with a feverish being, tainted with the jail distemper of a contagious servitude, to keep him above ground, an animated mass of putrefaction ; corrupted himself, and corrupting all about him.^^ 2. The act repealed was of this direct tend- Authorof ency, and it was made in the manner the repeal, ^hich I havc related to you. I will now tell you by whom the bill of repeal was brought into Parliament. I find it has been industriously given out in this city (from kindness to me, un- questionably) that I was the mover or the sec- onder. The fact is, I did not once open my lips 1^ Mr. Burke's mode of treating a subject will be seen more clearly, if we compare him with such a speaker as Mr. Fox. In the present case, for in- stance: (1.) He prepares the way by a beautiful narration, full of thought, in which he shows how it was possible for Protestants, in defiance of all their principles, to become persecutors. (2.) He states at large the cruel enactments of the law in question. (3.) He describes the manner in which it was pass- ed amid the conflicts of " insolent and profligate factions," who on both sides had "made it purposely wicked and absurd, that it might be rejected" by the opposing party. (4.) He shows that this law, instead of being suffered to sink at once into abey- ance as too bad to be executed, had been carried into effect with terrible fidelity. (5.) He adds force and dignity to these individual statements by rising to a general truth, that "bad laws are the w^orst sort of tyranny," converting "all that makes life safe and comfortable into instruments of terror and torment." Now Mr. Fox, from his habit of striking directly at the heart of a subject, would probably have thrown away the first of these heads, and com- meuced at once with the third ; showing the atro- ciously wicked manner in which the law was pass- ed, and interweaving with his statement just enough of the provisions of the act and the cruelties of its execution, to make it stand forth in all its enormity as deserving public execration. Experience show- ed that Mr. Fox's method was best suited to the pur- poses of actual debate ; while Mr. Burke's speeches have come down to posterity as objects of far great- er interest to reflecting men for the depth, and com- pass, and richness of their thoughts. on the subject during the whole progress of the bill. I do not say this as disclaiming my share in that measure. Very far from it. I inform you of this fact, lest I should seem to arrogate to myself the merits which belong to others. To have been the man chosen out to redeem our fellow-citizens from slavery ; to purify our laws from absurdity and injustice ; and to cleanse our religion from the blot and stain of persecu- tion, would be an honor and happiness to which my wishes would undoubtedly aspire, but to which nothing but my wishes could possibly have entitled me. That great work was in hands in every respect far better qualified than mine. The mover of the bill was Sir George Savile. When an act of great and signal humanity was to be done, and done with all the weight and authority that belonged to it, the world could cast its eyes upon none but him. I hope that few things which have a tendency to bless or adorn life have wholly escaped my observa- tion in my passage through it. I have sought the acquaintance of that gentleman, and have seen him in all situations. He is a true genius ; with an understanding vigorous, and acute, and refined, and distinguishing even to excess ; and illuminated with a most unbounded, peculiar, and original cast of imagination. With these he possesses many external and instrumental ad- vantages, and he makes use of them all. His fortune is among the largest — a fortune which, wholly unincumbered, as it is, with one single charge from luxury, vanity, or excess, sinks un- der the benevolence of its dispenser. This pri- vate benevolence, expanding itself into patriot- ism, renders his whole being the estate of the public, in which he has not reserved a pcculium for himself of profit, diversion, or relaxation. ^^ During the session, the first in, and the last out of the House of Commons ; he passes from the senate to the camp ; and, seldom seeing the seat of his ancestors, he is always in Parliament to serve his country, or in the field to defend it. But in all well-wrought compositions, some par- ticulars stand out more eminently than the rest; and the things which will carry his name to pos- terity are his two bills — I mean that for a lim- itation of the claims of the Crown upon landed estates,'^ and this for the relief of the Roman Catholics. By the former, he has emancipated property; by the latter, he has quieted con- science ; and by both, he has taught that grand lesson to government and subject — no longer to regard each other as adverse parties. 17 The peculiuvi among the Romans was that small amount of property which a slave was allow- ed to possess and call his own, as distinct from his master's estate. i« This bill, passed in 1769, was called the Nullum TempuG Act, because it set aside the old maxim, "Nullum Tempus Regi occurrit," no length of pos- session bars the King. It provided that the Crown should have no claim upon any estate which had been enjoyed by any one during sixty years of un- disputed possession. 1780.] THE BRISTOL ELECTION. Such was the mover of the act that is com- plained of by men who are not quite so good as he is ; an act, most assuredly, not brought in by him from any partiality to that sect which is the object of it ; for, among his faults, I really can not help reckoning a greater degree of prejudice against that people than becomes so wise a man. I know that he inclines to a sort of disgust, mix- ed with a considerable degree of asperity, to the system ; and he has few, or rather no habits [in common] with an}'' of its professors. What he has done was on quite other motives. The mo- tives were these, which he declared in his excel- lent speech on his motion for the bill ; namely, his extreme zeal to the Protestant religion, which he thought utterly disgraced by the act of 1699 ; and his rooted hatred to all kind of oppression, under any color or upon any pretense whatsoever. The seconder was worthy of the mover and the motion. I was not the seconder. It was Mr. Dunning, recorder of this city. I shall say the less of him, because his near relation to you makes you more particularly acquainted with his merits. But I should appear little acquaint- ed with them, or little sensible of them, if I could utter his name on this occasion without express- ing my esteem for his character. I am not afraid of offending a most learned body, and most jeal- ous of its reputation for that learning, when I say he is the first of his profession. It is a point settled by those who settle every thing else ; and I must add (what I am enabled to say from my own long and close observation) that there is not a man, of any profession, or in any situation, of a more erect and independent spirit ; of a more proud honor ; a more manly mind ; a more firm and determined integrity. Assure yourselves that the names of two such men will bear a great load of prejudice in the other scale, before they can be entirely outweighed. With this mover and this seconder agreed the whole House of Commons ; the whole House of Lords ; the whole bench of Bishops ; the King ; the Ministry; the Opposition; all the distinguish- ed clergy of the establishment; all the eminent Hghts (for they were consulted) of the dissent- ing churches. This according voice of national wisdom ought to be listened to with reverence. To say that all these descriptions of Englishmen unanimously concurred in a scheme for introduc- ing the Catholic religion, or that none of them understood the nature and effects of what they were doing, so well as a few obscure clubs of people whose names you never heard of, is shamelessly absurd. Surely it is paying a mis- erable compliment to the religion we profess, to suggest that every thing eminent in the kingdom is indifferent, or even adverse to that religion, and that its security is wholly abandoned to the zeal of those who have nothing but their zeal to distinguish them. In weighing this unanimous concurrence of whatever the nation has to boast of, I hope you will recollect that all these con- curring parties do by no means love one another enough to agree in any point which was not both evidently and importantly right. 3. To prove this — to prove that the measure was both clearly and materially proper. Reasons for I will next lay before you (as I prom- ^''® ""^p®^ ised) the political grounds and reasons for the repeal of that penal statute, and the motives to its repeal at that particular time. (1.) Gentlemen, America — when the English nation seemed to be dangei'ously, if ,, ,,. ° •" (l.)It\vasdue not irrecoverably divided ; when one, to the gener- and that the most growing branch, was ""e Roman" torn from the parent stock, and in- ^'^^''^''^s. grafted on the power of France, a great terror fell upon this kingdom. On a sudden we awak- ened from our dreams of conquest, and saw our- selves threatened with an immediate invasion ; which we were, at that time, very ill prepared to resist. You remember the cloud that gloomed over us all. In that hour of our dismay, from the bottom of the hiding-places into which the indis- criminate rigor of our statutes had driven them, came out the Roman Catholics. They appeared before the steps of a tottering throne with one of the most sober, measured, steady, and dutiful addresses that was ever presented to the Crown. ^^ It was no holiday ceremony ; no anniversary com- pliment of parade and show. It was signed by almost every gentleman of that persuasion of note or property in England. At such a crisis, nothing but a decided resolution to stand or fall with their country could have dictated such an address ; the direct tendency of which was to cut off all retreat, and to render them peculiarly obnoxious to an invader of their own communion. The address showed, what I long languished to see, that all the subjects of England had cast off all foreign views and connections, and that every man looked for his relief from every grievance at the hands only of his own natural government. It was necessary, on our part, that the natural government should show itself worthy of that name. It was necessary, at the crisis I speak of, that the supreme power of the state should meet the conciliatory dispositions of the subject. To delay protection would be to reject allegiance. And why should it be rejected, or even coldly and suspiciously received ? If any independent Catholic state should choose to take part with this kingdom in a war with France and Spain, that bigot (if such a bigot could be found) would be heard with little respect who could dream of objecting his rehgion to an ally, whom the nation would not only receive with its freest thanks, but purchase with the last remains of its exhausted treasure. To such an ally we should not daro ^^ This address may be found in Belsham's George III., vol. ii., p. 496. It is all that Mr. Burke repre- sents it. Among other things it says, " In a time of public danger, when your Majesty's subjects can have but one interest, and ought to have but one wish and sentiment, we humbly hope it will not be deemed improper to assure your Majesty of our un- reserved affection to your government, of our unal- terable attachment to the cause and welfare of our common coantiy, and our utter detestation of the de- signs and views of any foreign power against the dignity of your Majesty's Crown, the safety and tran- quillity of yoTir Majesty's subjects." 304 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. to whisper a single syllable of those base and in- vidious topics, upon which some unhappy men would persuade the state to reject the duty and allegiance of its own members. Is it, then, be- cause foreigners are in a condition to set our malice at defiance, that with them we are will- ing to contract engagements of friendship, and to keep them with fidelity and honor ; but that, because we conceive some descriptions of our countrymen are not powerful enough to punish our malignity, we will not permit them to sup- port our common interest ? Is it on that ground that our anger is to be kindled by their offered kindness ? Is it on that ground that they are to be subjected to penalties, because they are will- ing by actual merit to purge themselves from imputed crimes ? Lest by an adherence to the pause of their country they should acquire a title to fair and equitable treatment, are we resolved to furnish them with causes of eternal enmity, and rather supply them with just and founded mo- tives to disatfection, than not to have that dis- affection in existence to justify an oppression, which, not from policy but disposition, we have predetermined to exercise ? What shadow of reason could be assigned, why, at a time when the most Protestant part of this Protestant empire [America] found it for its advantage to unite with the two principal Popish states, to unite itself in the closest bonds with France and Spain for our destruction, that we should refuse to miite with our own Catholic countrymen for our own preservation ? Ought we, like madmen, to tear off the plasters that the lenient hand of prudence had spread over the wounds and gashes, which, in our delirium of ambition, we had given to our own body ? No person ever reprobated the American war more than I did, and do, and ever shall. But I never will consent that we should lay additional volun- tary penalties on ourselves for a fault which car- ries but too much of its own punishment in its own nature. For one, I was delighted with the proposal of internal peace. I accepted the bless- ing with thankfulness and transport ; I was truly happy to find one good effect of our civil dis- tractions, that they had put an end to all relig- ious strife and heart-burning in our own bowels. What must be the sentiments of a man, who would wish to perpetuate domestic hostility, when the causes of dispute are at an end ; and who, crying out for peace with one part of the nation on the most humiliating terms, should deny it to those who offer friendship without any terms at all ? (2.1 But if I was unable to reconcile such a denial to the contracted principles of (2.) Due to , , , , , 1 T • the claims of local duty, what answer could i give umanity. ^^ ^^^^ broad claiiTis of general human- ity? 1 confess to you freely, that the sufferings and distresses of the people of America in this cruel war have at times affected me more deeply than I can express. I felt every gazette of tri- umph as a blow upon my heart, which has a hund- red times sunk and fainted within me at all the mischiefs brought upon those who bear the whole brunt of war in the heart of their country. Vet the Americans are utter strangers to me ; a na- tion among whom I am not sure that I have a single acquaintance. Was I to suffer my mind to be so unaccountably warped ; was I to keep such iniquitous weights and measures of temper and of reason, as to sympathize with those who are in open rebellion against an authority which I respect, at war with a country which by every title ought to be, and is most dear to me ; and yet to have no feeling at all for the hardships and indignities suffered by men, who, by their very vicinity, are bound up in a nearer relation to us ; who contribute their share, and more than their share, to the common prosperity ; who perform the common offices of social life, and who obey the laws to the full as well as I do ? Gentlemen, the danger to the state being out of the question (of which, let me tell you, statesmen themselves are apt to have but too exquisite a sense), I could assign no one reason of justice, policy, or feeling, for not concurring most cordially, as most cor- dially I did concur, in softening some part of that shameful servitude, under which several of my worthy fellow-citizens were groaning. (3.) Important effects followed this act of wis- dom. They appeared at home and (s.) Justified by abroad to the great benefit of this 'fects'onlheBr'it- kingdom ; and, let me hope, to the '^i' Empire. advantage of mankind at large. It betokened union among ourselves. It showed soundness even on the part of the persecuted, which gen- erally is the weak side of every community. But its most essential operation was not in England. The act was immediately, though very imper- fectly, copied in Ireland ; and this im- ^^^ concUia- perfect transcript of an imperfect act, ting the peo- . o n ■ •, 1 r> 1 • pleof Irelaud. this first famt sketch of toleration, which did little more than disclose a principle, and mark out a disposition, completed in a most wonderful manner the re-union to the state of all the Catholics of that country. It made us, what we ought always to have been, one family, one body, one heart and soul, against the family com- bination, and all other combinations of our ene- mies. We have indeed obligations to that peo- ple, who received such small benefits with so much gratitude ; and for which gratitude and at- tachment to us, I am afraid, they have suffered not a little in other places.^^ I dare say you have all heard of the privileges indulged to the Irish Catholics residing in Spain. You have likewise heard with what circumstances of severity they have been lately expelled from the sea-ports of that kingdom, driven into the inland cities, and there detained as a sort of prisoners of state. I have good reason to believe that it was the zeal to our government and our cause (sorae- 20 This remark Mr. Burke goes on to illustrate in the next paragraph, by referring to a recent perse- cution of Irish Catholics in Spain, and then argues that if they are persecuted abroad for their attach- ment to the English government, it is doubly cruel to persecute them at home as if enemies of the state. Unless this connection is noticed, the remarks which follow may seem a useless digression. 178U.] THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 305 what indiscreetly expressed in one of the ad- dresses of the Catholics of Ireland) which has thus drawn down on their heads the indignation of the Court of Madrid, to the inexpressible loss of several individuals, and, in future, perhaps, to the great detriment of the whole of their body. Now, that our people should be persecuted in Spain for iheir attachment to this country, and persecuted in this country for their supposed en- mity to us, is such a jarring reconciliation of con- tradictory distresses, is a thing at once so dread- ful and ridiculous, that no malice short of diabol- ical would wish to continue any human creatures in such a situation. But honest men will not for- get either their merit or their sufferings. There are men (and many, I trust, there are) who, out of love to their country and their kind, would tor- ture their invention to find excuses for the mis- takes of their brethren, and who, to stifle dissen- sion, would construe even doubtful appearances with the utmost favor. Such men will never persuade themselves to be ingenious and refined in discovering disaffection and treason in the man- ifest, palpable signs of suffering loyalty. Perse- cution is so unnatural to them, that they gladly snatch the very first opportunity of laying aside all the tricks and devices of penal politics, and of returning home, after all their irksome and vex- atious wanderings, to our natural family mansion, to the grand social principle that unites all men, in all descriptions, under the shadow of an equal and impartial justice. Men of another sort — I mean the bigoted en- emies to liberty — may perhaps, in their politics, make no account of the good or ill affection of the Catholics of England, who are but a handful of people (enough to torment, but not enough to fear), perhaps not so many, of both sexes and of all ages, as fifty thousand. But, gentlemen, it is possible you may not know that the people of that persuasion in Ireland amount at least to six- teen or seventeen hundred thousand souls. I do not at all exaggerate the number. A nation to be persecuted ! While we were masters of the sea, embodied with America, and in alliance with half the powers of the Continent, we might per- haps, in that remote corner of Europe, afford to tyrannize with impunity. But there is a revolu- tion in our affairs which makes it prudent to be just. In our late awkward contest with Ireland about trade, had religion been thrown in, to fer- ment and imbitter the mass of discontents, the consequences might have been truly dreadful ; but, very happily, that cause of quarrel was pre- viously quieted by the wisdom of the acts I am I commending. Even in England, where I admit the danger Kee in" ^^°"^ ^^^ discontcnt of that persuasion valuable mefi to bc Icss than in Ireland ; yet, even ^ in England, j^^^,^^ ^^^ ^^^ listened to the counsels of fanaticism and folly, we might have wounded 'ourselves very deeply, and wounded ourselves in a very tender part. You are apprised that the Catholics of England consist mostly of your best manufacturei's. Had the Legislature chosen, in- stead of returning their declarations of duty with U correspondent good will, to drive them to despair, there is a country at their very door to which they would be invited ; a country in all respects as good as ours, and with the finest cities in the world ready built to receive them ; and thus the bigotry of a free country, and in an enlightened age, would have repeopled the cities of Flanders, which, in the darkness of two hundred years ago, had been desolated by the superstition of a cruel tyrant. Our manufactures were the growth of the perse- cutions in the Low Countries. What a specta- cle would it be to Europe to see us, at this time of day, balancing the account of tyranny with those very countries, and, by our persecutions, driving back trade and manufacture, as a sort of vagabonds, to their original settlement ! But I trust we shall be saved this last of disgraces. (4.) So far as to the effect of the act on the in- terests of this nation. With regard (4.) -Tustified by to the interests of mankind at la^rge, ImJreTn (j^ifg^a I am sure the benefit was very con- c''""*"^- siderable. Long before this act, indeed, the spirit of toleration began to gain ground in Europe. In Holland the third part of the people are Catho- lics ; they live at ease, and are a sound part of the state. In many parts of Germany, Protest- ants and Papists partake the same cities, the same councils, and even the same churches. The unbounded liberality of the King of Prussia's con- duct on this occasion is known to all the world, and it is of a piece with the other grand maxims of his reign. The magnanimity of the imperial court, breaking through the narrow principles of its predecessors, has indulged its Protestant sub- jects not only with property, wath worship, with liberal education, but with honors and trusts, both civil and military. A worthy Protestant gentle- man of this country now fills, and fills with cred- it, a high office in the Austrian Netherlands. Even the Lutheran obstinacy of Svv^eden has thawed at length, and opened a toleration to all religions. I know, myself, that in France the Protestants begin to be at rest. The army, which in that country is every thing, is open to them ; and some of the military rewards and decorations w^hich the laws deny, are supplied by others, to make the service acceptable and honorable. The fii*st minister of finance in that country [Necker] is a Protestant. Two years' war without a tax is among the first fruits of their liberality. Tarnished as the glory of this nation is, and as far as it has waded into the shades of an eclipse, some beams of its former illumination still play upon its surface, and what is done in England is still looked to as argument, and as example. It is certainly true, that no law of this country ever met with such universal ap- plause abroad, or was so likely to produce the perfection of that tolerating spirit, which, as I observed, has been long gaining ground in Eu- rope ; for abroad it was universally thought that we had done what, I am sorry to say, we had not ; they thought we had granted a full toleration. That opinion was, however, so far from hurting the Protestant cause, that I declare, with the most serious solemnity, my firm be'iof, that no 306 MR. BURKE PREVIOUS TO [1780. one thing done for these fifty years past was so likely to prove deeply beneficial to our religion at large as Sir George Savile's act. In its effects it was " an act for tolerating and protecting Prot- estantism throughout Europe ;" and I hope that those who were taking steps for the quiet and settlement of our Protestant brethren in other countries will, even yet, rather consider the steady equity of the greater and better part of the people of Great Britain, than the vanity and violence of a few. I perceive, gentlemen, by the manner of all The uestion ^bout mc, that you look with horror answered, Why on the wicked clamor which has been rrationmade" raised On this subject, and that, in- more complete? ^^^^^ ^^ ^^ apology for what WaS done, you rather demand from me an account why the execution of the scheme of toleration was not made more answerable to the large and liberal grounds on which it was taken up. The question is natural and proper ; and I re- member that a great and learned magistrate [Lord Thurlow], distinguished for his strong and systematic undei'standing, and who at that time was a member of the House of Commons, made the same objection to the proceeding. The statutes, as they now stand, are, without doubt, perfectly absurd ; but I beg leave to ex- plain the cause of this gross imperfection in the tolerating plan as well and as shortly as I am able. It was universally thought that the ses- sion ought not to pass over without doing some- thing in this business. To revise the whole body of the penal statutes was conceived to be an object too big for the time. The penal statute, therefore, which was chosen for repeal (chosen to show our disposition to conciliate, not to perfect a toleration) was this act of ludicrous cruelty, of which I have just given you the history. It is an act which, though not by a great deal so fierce and bloody as some of the rest, was infi- nitely more ready in the execution. It was the act which gave the greatest encouragement to those pests of society, mercenary informers, and interested disturbers of household peace ; and it was observed, with truth, that the prosecutions, either carried to conviction or compounded, for many years, had been all commenced upon that act. It was said, that while we were deliber- ating on a more perfect scheme, the spirit of the age would never come up to the execution of the statutes which remained, especially as more steps, and a co-operation of more minds and pow- ers, were required towaixl a mischievous use of them, than for the execution of the act to be re- pealed ; that it was better to unravel this texture from below than from above, beginning with the latest, which, in general practice, is the severest evil. It was alleged that this slow proceeding would be attended with the advantage of a pro- gressive experience, and that the people would grow reconciled to toleration, when they should find, by the effects, that justice was not so irrec- oncilable an enemy to convenience as they had imagined. These, gentlemen, were the reasons why we left this good work in the rude, unfinished state in which good works are commonly left, tlirough the tame circumspection with which a timid pru- dence so frequently enervates beneficence. In doing good, we are generally cold, and languid, and sluggish, and, of all things, afraid of being too much in the right. But the works of malice and injustice are quite in another style. They are finished with a bold, masterly hand ; touched, as they are, with the spirit of those vehement pas- sions that call foi'th all our energies whenever we oppress and persecute. Thus this matter was left for the time, with the full determination in Parliament not to suffer other and wor.se statutes to remain, for the pur- pose of counteracting the benefits proposed by the repeal of one penal law ; for nobody then dreamed of defending what was done as a ben- efit, on the ground of its being no benefit at all. We were not then ripe for so mean a subterfuge. I do not wish to go over the horrid scene that was afterward acted.^^ Would to Farther .action God it could be expunged forever Fhr'No'ptJery from the annals of this country ! but, '"'"'s. since it must subsist for our shame, let it subsist for our instruction. In the year 1780 there were found in this nation men deluded enough (for I give the whole to their delusion), on pretenses of zeal and piet}', without any sort of provoca- tion whatsoever, real or pretended, to make a desperate attempt, which would have consumed all the gloi-y and power of this country in the flames of London, and buried all law, order, and religion, under the ruins of the metropolis of the Protestant world. Whether all this mischief done, or in the direct train of doing, was in their original scheme, I can not say. I hope it was not ; but this would have been the unavoidable consequence of their proceedings, had not the flames they lighted up in their fury been extin- guished in their blood. All the time that this horrid scene was acting or avenging, as well as for some time before, and ever since, the wicked instigators of this unhappy multitude, guilty, with every aggravation, of all their crimes, and screened in a cowardly dark- ness from their punishment, continued, without interruption, pity, or remorse, to blow up the blind rage of the populace with a continued blast of pestilential libels, which infected and poisoned the very air we breathed in. The main drift of all the libels and all the riots was, to force Parliament (to Reasons fomot persuade us was hopeless) into an re-enacting these ^ ' . • 1 1- persecuting laws, act oi national perfidy which has as demanded by no example ; for, gentlemen, it is ^^ The powerful descriptions of Dickens in his Bar- naby Rudge have made the public familiar with the temble scenes enacted in London during the " No Popery" riots of 1780. Those who first framed the Protestant Association were actuated, no doubt, by a mistaken zeal for religion, but those who took up the cause afterward had far other designs. Dr. Johnson truly said : " Those who in age of infidelity exclaim, "Popery! Popery! would have cried fire j in the midst of the general deluge." 1780] THE BRISTOL ELECTION. 307 proper you should all know what infamy we es- caped by refusings that repeal, for a refusal of which, it seems, I, among others, stand some- where or other accused. When we took away, on the motives which I had the honor of stating to you, a few of the innumerable penalties upon an oppressed and injured people, the relief was not absolute, but given on a stipulation and com- pact between them and us ; for we bound down the Roman Catholics with the most solemn oaths to bear true allegiance to this government ; to abjure all sort of temporal power in any other ; and to renounce, under the same solemn obliga- tions, the doctrines of systematic perfidy with which they stood (I conceive very unjustly) charged. Now our modest petitioners came up to us, most humbly praying nothing more than that we should break our faith, without any one cause whatsoever of forfeiture assigned ; and when the subjects of this kingdom had on their part fully performed their engagement, we should refuse on our part the benefit we had stipulated on the performance of those very conditions that were prescribed by our own authority, and taken on the sanction of our public faith, that is to say, when we had inveigled them with fair prom- ises within our door, we were to shut it on them, and, adding mockery to outrage, to tell them " Now we have got you fast ; your consciences are bound to a power resolved on your destruc- tion. We have made you swear that your re- ligion obliges you to keep your faith. Fools, as 3'ou are ! we will now let you see that our relig- ion enjoins us to keep no faith with you." They who would advisedly call upon us to do such things must certainly have thought us not only a convention of treacherous tyrants, but a gang of the lowest and dirtiest wretches that ever dis- graced humanity. Had we done this, we should have indeed proved that there were so}7ie in the world whom no faith could bind ; and we should have convicted ourselves of that odious principle of which Papists stood accused by those very sav- ages, who wished us, on that accusation, to de- liver them over to their fury. In this audacious tumult, when our very name and character, as gentlemen, was to be canceled forever, along with the faith and honor of the na- tion, I, who had exerted myself very little on the quiet passing of the bill, thought it necessary then to come forward. I was not alone ; but though some distinguished members on all sides, and particularly on ours, added much to their high reputation by the part they took on that day (a part which will be remembered as long as honor, spirit, and eloquence have estimation in the world), I may and will value myself so far, that, yielding in abilities to many, I yielded in zeal to none. With warmth and with vigor, and animated with a just and natural indigna- tion, I called forth every faculty that I possessed, and I directed it in every way which 1 could pos- sibly employ it. I labored night and day. I la- bored in Pai'liament. I labored out of Parlia- ment. If, therefore, the resolution of the House of Commons, refusing to commit this act of un- matched turpitude, be a crime, I am guilty among the foremost; but indeed, whatever the faults of that House may have been, no one member was found hardy enough to propose so infamous a thing ; and, on full debate, we passed the resolu- tion against the petitions with as much unanim- ity as we had formerly passed the law of which these petitions demanded the repeal. There was a circumstance (justice will not sufier me to pass it over) which, if Exemplary de- any thinjj could enforce the reasons I portmeiitofthe , •' .= 1 1 /■ ,1 • -p 1 Roman Catho- have given, would lully justiiy the lies during the act of relief, and render a repeal, or any thing like a repeal, unnatural, impossible. It was the behavior of the persecuted Roman Catholics under the acts of violence and brutal insolence which they suffered. I suppose there are not in London less than four or five thousand of that persuasion from my country, who do a great deal of the most laborious works in the metropolis, and they chiefly inhabit those quar- ters which were the principal theater of the fury of the bigoted multitude. They are known to be men of strong arms and quick feelings, and more remarkable for a determined resolution than clear ideas or much foresight ; but though pro- voked by every thing that can stir the blood of men, their houses and chapels in flames, and with the most atrocious profanations of every thing which they hold sacred before their eyes, not a hand was moved to retaliate, or even to defend. Had a conflict once begun, the rage of their per- secutors would have redoubled. Thus, fury in- creasing by the reverberation of outrages, house being fired for house, and church for chapel, I am convinced that no power under heaven could have prevented a general conflagration, and at this day London would have been a tale ; but I am well informed, and the thing speaks it, that their clergy exerted their whole influence to keep their people in such a state of forbearance and (piiet, as, when I look back, fills me with astonishment; but not with astonishment only. Their merits on that oc- casion ought not to be forgotten ; nor will they, when Englishmen come to recollect themselves. I am sure it were far more proper to have called them forth and given them the thanks of both houses of Parliament, than to have sufl!ered those worthy clergymen and excellent citizens to be hunted into holes and corners, while we are mak- ing low-minded inquisitions into the number of their people ; as if a tolerating principle was never to prevail, unless we were very sure that only a few could possibly take advantage of it. But indeed we are not yet well recovered of our fright. Our reason, I trust, will return with our security, and this unfortunate temper will pass over like a cloud. '^ Gentlemen, I have now laid before you a few of the reasons for taking away the pen- objections to alties of the act of 1699, and for re- the repeal ex- fusing to establish them on the riotous requisition of 1780. Because I would not suf- ^- Tlape?,dElv ucKEp VE. i u f willing to re- scrvicc. But I wish to bc a mem ber ot main out. Parliament, to have my share of doing good, and resisting evil. It would therefore be absurd to renounce my objects in order to obtain my seat. I deceive myself, indeed, most grossly, if I had not much rather pass the remainder of my life hidden in the recesses of the deepest ob- scurity, feeding my mind even with the visions and imaginations of such things, than to be placed on the most splendid throne of the universe, tan- talized with the denial of the practice of all which can make the greatest situation any other than the greatest curse. Gentlemen, I have had my day. I can never sufficiently express my grat- itude to you for having set me in a place where- in I could lend the slightest help to great and laudable designs. If 1 have had my share in any measure giving quiet to private property, and private conscience ; if, by my vote, I have aided in securing to families the best possession, peace ; if I have joined in reconciling kings to their subjects, and subjects to their prince ; if I have assisted to loosen the foreign holdings of the cit- izen, and taught him to look for his protection to the laws of his country, and for his comfort to the good-will of his countrymen ; if I have thus taken my part with the best of men in the best of their actions, I can shut the book. I might wish to read a page or two more ; but this is enough for my measure. I have not lived in vain. And now, gentlemen, on this serious day, when I come, as it were, to make up my account with you, let me take to myself some degree of honest pride on the nature of the charges that are against me. I do not here stand before you accused of venality, or of neglect of duty. It is not said that, in the long period of my service, I have, in a single instance, sacrificed the slightest of your interests to my ambition, or to my fortune. It is not alleged that, to gratify any anger, or re- venge of my own, or of my party, I have had a share in wronging or oppressing any description of men, or any one man in any description. No ! The charges against me are all of one kind, that I have pushed the principles of general jus- tice and benevolence too far ; farther than a cau- tious policy would warrant, and farther than the opinions of many would go along with me. In every accident which may happen through life — in pain, in sorrow, in depression, and distress — I wall call to mind this accusation, and be comforted. Gentlemen, I submit the whole to your judg- ment. Mr. Mayor, I thank you for the trouble you have taken on this occasion. In your state of health, it is particularly obliging. If this com- pany should think it advisable for me to with- draw, I shall respectfully retire. If you think otherwise, I shall go directly to the council- house and to the 'change, and, without a mo- ment's delay, begin my canvass. At the close of this speech Mr. Burke was en- couraged by his friends to proceed with the can- vass ; but it was soon apparent that the oppo- sition he had to encounter could not be concil- iated or resisted. He therefore, on the second day of the election, declined the poll in the speech which follows : SPEECH OF MR. BURKE ON DECLINING THE ELECTION AT BRISTOL, DELIVERED SEPTEMBER 9, 1780 Gentlemen, — I decline the election. It has ever been my rule through life to observe a pro- ; portion between my efforts and my objects. I have never been remarkable for a bold, active, j and sanguine pursuit of advantages that are per- j sonal to myself. ' I have not canvassed the whole of this city in form ; but I have taken such a view of it as sat- isfies my own mind that your choice will not ul- timately fall upon me. Your city, gentlemen, is in a state of miserable distraction ; and I am resolved to withdraw whatever share my preten- I sions may have had in its unhappy divisions. I j have not been in haste. I have tried all prudent j means. I have waited for the effect of all con- I tingencies. If I were fond of a contest, by the partiality of my numerous friends (whom you | know to be among the most weighty and re- spectable people of the city) I have the means of a sharp one in my hands ; but I thought it far better, with my strength unspent, and my I'cpu- tation unimpaired, to do earl}'^ and from fore- sight that which I might be obliged to do from necessity at last. I am not in the least surprised, nor in the least angry at this view of things. I have read the book of life for a long time, and I have read other books a little. Nothing has happened to me but what has happened to men much better than me, and in times and in nations full as good as the age and country that we live in. To say that I am no way concerned would bc neither decent nor true. The representation of Bristol was an object on many accounts dear to me, and 1783.] MR. BURKE ON THE EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX. 311 I certainly should very far prefer it to any other in the kingdom. My habits are made to it ; and it is in general more unpleasant to be rejected after a long trial than not to be chosen at all. But, gentlemen, I will see nothing except your former kindness, and I will give way to no other sentiments than those of gratitude. From the bottom of my heart I thank you for what you have done for me. You have given me a long- term, which is now expired. I have performed the conditions, and enjoyed all the profits to the full ; and I now surrender your estate into your hands without being in a single tile or a single stone impaired or wasted by my use. I have served the public for fifteen years. I have served you, in particular, for six. What is past is well stored. It is safe, and out of the power of fortune. What is to come is in wiser hands than ours, and He in whose hands it is, best knows whether it is best for you and me that I should be in Parliament, or even in the world. Gentlemen, the melancholy event of yesterday reads to us an awful lesson against being too much troubled about any of the objects of ordi- nary ambition. The worthy gentleman who has been snatched from us at the moment of the elec- tion, and ia the middle of the contest, while his desires were as w-arm and his hopes as eager as ours, has feelingly told us what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue.^ It has been usual for a candidate who declines, to take his leave by a letter to the sheriffs ; but I received your trust in the face of day, and in the face of day I accept your dismission. I am not — I am not at all ashamed to look upon you, nor can my presence discompose the order of bu- siness here. I humbly and respectfully take my leave of the sheriffs, the candidates, and the elect- ors, wishing heartily that the choice may be for the best at a time which calls, if ever time did call, for service that is not nominal. It is no plaything you are about. I tremble when I con- sider the trust I have presumed to ask. I con- fided perhaps too much in my intentions. They were really fair and upright ; and I am bold to say that I ask no ill thing for you when, on part- ing from this place, I pray that whomever you choose to succeed me, he may resemble me ex- actly in all things except in my abilities to serve and my fortune to please you. SPEECH OF MR. BURKE ON THE EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. DECEMBER 1, 1783. INTRODUCTION. So enormous were the abases of the British power in India, that men of all parties demanded strong measures to secure an effectual remedy. Those embraced in the East India bill of Mr. Fox, as matured between him and Mr. Burke, were certainly of this character. All the concerns of the Company were taken into the hands of the English government. Seven commissioners, to be appointed for four years by Parliament, were intrusted with the civil and military government of the country ; while the commercial concerns of the Company were committed to the hands of nine assistant directors, to be chosen out of the proprietors of East India stock. A second bill provided for the correction of numerous abuses in the ad- ministration of Indian affairs. The first bill was brought into the House of Commons by Mr. Fox, on the 18th of November, 1783, and was strenuously opposed at every stage of its progress. The principal objections were, that it set aside the charter of the East India Company, threw too much patronage into the hands of the ministry, and might operate injuriously to the national credit. Mr. Fox's coalition with Lord North, which had brotiglit the ministry into power, was also a subject of the severest animadversion. When the question came up, on the 1st of December, for going into a committee on the bill, Mr. Powys, a former friend and adherent of Mr. Fox, opposed it with all his strength. He had great authority in the House, as a country gentleman rep- resenting an extensive county, and sustained by a reputation for strong sense and unimpeachable integ- rity. He denounced the measure in the strongest terms, as a violation of chartered rights, and as designed to make Mr. Fox minister for life, by giving him an amount of patronage which would render it impossible for the King to remove him. Mr. Wraxall, who was then a member of the House, and who was equally opposed with Mr. Powys to the passing of the bill, observes, in his Historical Memoirs, vol. iv., p. 566, " Burke, unable longer to ob- serve silence after such reflections, then rose ; and, in a dissertation rather than a speech, which lasted more than three hours, exhausted all the powers of his mighty mind in the justification of his friend's measure. The most ignorant member of the House, who had attended to the mass of information, his- torical, political, and financial, which fell from the lips of Burke on that occasion, must have departed rich in knowledge of Hindostan. It seemed impossible to crowd a greater variety of matter applicable to the t subject into a smaller compass ; and those who differed most widely from him in opinion did not render the less justice to his gigantic range of ideas, his lucid exposition of events, and the harmonic flow of his ^ Mr. Burke here refers to Mr. Coombe, one of his exhaustion of the contest, had died suddenly the competitors, who, overcome by the excitement and | evening before. 312 MR. BURKE ON THE [1783. periods. There were portions of his harangue in which he appeared to be animated by feelings and con- siderations the most benign, as well as elevated ; and the classic language in which he made Fox's pane- gyric, for having dared to venture on a measure so beset with dangers, but so pregnant, as he asserted, with benefits to mankind, could not be exceeded in beauty." In giving this speech, those parts are omitted which contain minute details of the abuses of power on the part of the Company's servants in India. Though essential to the argument as originally stated, they would only be tedious at the present day, and, indeed, can hardly be understood without an intimate ac- quaintance with the concerns of the East India Company. SPEECH, &c. Mr. Speaker, — I thank you for pointing to me ; I really wished much to engage your at- tention in an early stage of the debate. I have been long very deeply, though perhaps ineffect- ually, engaged in the preliminary inquiries which have continued without intermission for some years. Though I have felt, with some degree of sensibility, the natural and inevitable impres- sions of the several matters of fact, as they have been successively disclosed, I have not at any time attempted to trouble you on the merits of the subject, and very little on any of the points which incidentally arose in the course of our pro- ceedings. But I should be sorry to be found to- tally silent upon this day. Our inquiries are now come to their final issue. It is now to be determ- ined whether the three years of laborious par- liamentary research,^ whether the twenty years of patient Indian suffering, are to produce a sub- stantial reform in oitr Eastern administration ; or, whether our knowledge of the grievances has abated our zeal for the correction of them, and our very inquiry into the evil was only a pretext to elude the remedy which is demanded from us by humanity, by justice, and by every principle of true policy. Depend upon it, this business can not be indifferent to our fame. It will turn out a matter of great disgrace or great glory to the whole British nation. We are on a conspicuous stage, and the world marks our demeanor. I am therefore a little concerned to perceive „ , . , . ^ the spirit and temper in which the Mode m which , , , , n i the bill was op- debate has been all along pursued ^°^^ ■ upon one side of the House. The declamation of the gentlemen who oppose the bill has been abundant and vehement ; but they have been reserved, and even silent about the fitness or unfitness of the plan to attain the direct object it has in view. By some gentlemen it is taken up (by way of exercise, I presume) as a point of law on a question of private property and corpo- rate franchise ; by others it is regarded as the petty intrigue of a faction at court, and argued merely as it tends to set this man a little high- er, or that a little lower in situation and power. All the void has been filled up with invectives against coalition ; with allusions to the loss of America ; with the activity and inactivity of min- isters. The total silence of these gentlemen concerning the interest and well-being of the people of India, and concerning the intei-cst which this nation has in the commerce and rev- ' Mr. Burke had taken a very active part in these researches as a member of a committee of the House. enues of that country, is a strong indication of the value which they set upon these objects. It has been a little painful to me to observe the intrusion into this important debate of such company as quo warranto, and mandamus, and certiorari ^ as if we were on a trial about may- ors and aldermen, and capital burgesses ; or en- gaged in a suit concerning the borough of Pen- ryn, or Saltash, or St. Ives, or St. Maw^es. Gen- tlemen have argued with as much heat and pas- sion, as if the first things in the world wei-e at stake ; and their topics are such as belong only to matter of the lowest and meanest litigation. It is not right, it is not worthy of us, in this man- ner to depreciate the value, to degrade the majes- ty of this grave deliberation of policy and empire. For my part, I have thought myself bound, when a matter of this extraordinaiy weight came before me, not to consider (as some gentlemen are so fond of doing) whether the bill originated from a Secretary of State for the Home Depart- ment, or from a secretary for the foreign ; from a minister of influence or a minister of the peo- ple ; from Jacob or from Esau.^ I asked my- self, and I asked myself nothing else, what part it was fit for a member of Parliament, who has supplied a mediocrity of talents by the extreme of diligence, and who has thought himself oblig- ed, by the research of years, to wind hinnseif into the inmost recesses and labyrinths of the Indian detail, what part, I sa}'', it became such a member of Parliament to take, when a minister of state, in conformity to a recommendation from the Throne, has brought before us a system for the better government of the territory and com- merce of the East. In this light, and in this only, I will trouble you with my sentiments. It is not only agreed but demanded, by the right honorable gentleman [Mr. Pitt], Measure and by those who act with him, that a ''""^'^ ''°''' whole system ought to be produced ; that it ought not to be a half measure ; that it ought to be no palliative ; but a legislative provision, vigorous, substantial, and effective. I believe that no man who understands the subject can doubt for a moment that those must be the con- ditions of any thing deserving the name of a re- form in the Indian government; that any thing short of them would not only be delusive, but, in this matter, which admits no medium, noxious in the extreme. . _ _ i 2 Mr. Powys, who retained a lingering alFection for Mr. Fox, had ascribed the bill to the influence of Lord North, saying, " the voice is Jacob's, but the hands are the hands of Esau." 1783.] EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX. 313 To all the conditions pi'oposed by his adversa- ries the mover of the bill perfectly agrees ; and on his performance of them he rests his cause. On the other hand, not the least objection has been taken with regard to the efficiency, the vigor, or the completeness of the scheme. I am, therefore, warranted to assume, as a thing admitted, that the bills accomplish what both sides of the House demand as essential. The end is completely answered, so far as the direct and immediate object is concerned. But though there are no direct, yet there are various collateral objections made; objections from the effects which this plan of reform for In- dian administration may have on the privileges of great public bodies in England ; from its px'ob- able influence on the constitutional rights, or on the freedom and integrity of the several branch- es of the Legislature. Before I answer these objections, I must beg Answer to Icave to obscrvc, that if we are not able objections, ^q contrivc somc method of governing In- dia well, which will not of necessity become the means of governing Great Britain ill, a ground is laid for their eternal separation ; but none for sacrificing the people of that countiy to our con- stitution. I am, however, far from being per- suaded that any such incompatibility of interest does at all exist. On the contrary, I am certain that every means effectual to preserve India from oppression is a guard to preserve the British Con- stitution from its worst corruption. To show this, I will consider the objections, which I think are four : 1st. That the bill is an attack on the charter- ed rights of men. 2d]y. That it increases the influence of the Crown, 3dly. That it does not increase, but diminishes the influence of the Crowm, in order to promote the interests of certain ministers and their party. 4thly. That it deeply affects the national credit. I. As to the finst of these objections, I must Violation of o^scrvc that the phrase of " the char- thecompa- tcred rights of men''' is full of affecta- ny's Charter. . i i • i t tion, and very unusual m the discus- sion of privileges conferred by charters of the present description. But it is not difficult to dis- cover what end that ambiguous mode of expres- sion, so often reiterated, is meant to answer. The rights of men, that is to say, the natural rights of mankind, are indeed sacred things ; and if any public measure is proved mischievously to affect them, the objection ought to be fatal to that measure, even if no charter at all could be set up against it. If these natural rights are farther affirmed and declared by express cove- nants, if they are clearly defined and secured against chicane, against power, and authority, by written instruments and positive engagements, they are in a still better condition ; they partake not only of the sanctity of the object so secured, but of that solemn public faith itself, which se- cures an object of such importance. Indeed, this formal recognition, by the sovereign power, of an original right in the subject, can never be subverted but by rooting up the holding radical principles of government, and even of society itself. The charters which we call, by distinc- tion, "great," are public instruments of this na- ture ; I mean the charters of King John and King Henry the Third. The things secured by these instruments may, without any deceitful am- biguity, be very fitly called the chartered rights of men? These charters have made the very name of a charter dear to the heart of every Englishman. But, sir, there may be, and there ai'e charters, not only different in nature, but formed on princi- ples the very reverse of those of the great char- ter. Of this kind is the charter of the East In- dia Company. Magna Cliarta is a charter to restrain power, and to destroy monopoly. The East India charter is a charter to establish mo- nopoly, and to create power. Political power and commercial monopoly are not the rights of men ; and the rights to them derived from char- ters, it is fallacious and sophistical to call " the chartered rights of men." These chartered rights (to speak of such charters and of their effects in terms of the greatest possible modera- tion) do at least suspend the natural rights of mankind at large, and in their very frame and constitution are liable to fall into a direct viola- tion of them. It is a charter of this latter description (that is to say, a charter of power and monopoly) which is affected hy the bill before you. The bill, sir, does, without question, affect it ; it does affect it essentially and substantially ; but, having stated to you of what description the chartered rights are which this bill touches, I feel no difficulty at all in acknowledging the existence of those char- tered rights in their fullest extent. They belong to the Company in the surest manner, and they are secured to that body by every sort of public sanction. They are stamped by the faith of the King ; they are stamped by the faith of Parlia- ment ; they have been bought for money, for money honestly and fairly paid ; they have been bought for valuable consideration, over and over again. I therefore freely admit to the East India Company their claim to exclude their fellow- subjects from the commerce of half the globe. I admit their claim to administer an annual ter- ritorial revenue of seven millions sterling, to com- mand an army of sixty thousand men, and to dis- pose (under the control of a sovereign imperial discretion, and with the due observance of the natural and local law) of the lives and fortunes of thirty millions of their fellow-creatui-es. All . this they possess by charter and by acts of Par- liament (in my opiinion) without a shadow of con- troversy. Those who carry the rights and claims of the Company the farthest do not contend for more than this, and all tUis I freely grant ; but, grant- ^ This opening of the subject with a distinction thus clearly drawn and illustrated, is highly charac- teristic of Mr. Burke, and lays the foundation of his entire argument. 314 MR. BURKE ON THE [1783. ing all this, they must grant to me in my turn that That charter all political power which is set over thebe^'nt'^f men, and that all privilege claimed or the public, exercised in exclusion of them, being wholly artificial, and for so much a derogation from the natural equality of mankind at large, ought to be some way or other exercised ulti- mately for their benefit. If this is true with re- gard to every species of political dominion and every description of commercial privilege, none of which can be original, self-derived rights, or grants for the mere private benefit of the hold- ers, then such rights, or privileges, or whatever else you choose to call them, are all in the strict- est sense a tt-ust ; and it is of the very essence of every trust to be rendered accountable, and even totally to cease, when it substantially varies from the purposes for which alone it could have a lawful existence. This I conceive, sir, to be true of trusts of power vested in the highest hands, and of such as seem to hold of no human creature ;^ but about the application of this principle to subor- dinate derivative trusts, I do not see how a con- trover.sy can be maintained. To whom, then, would I make the East India Company account- able ■? why, to Parliament, to be sure ; to Par- liament, from whom their trust was derived ; to Parliament, which alone is capable of compre- hending the magnitude of its object and its abuse, and alone capable of an effectual legislative rem- edy. The very charter which is held out to ex- clude Parliament from correcting malversation with regard to the high trust vested in the Com- pany is the very thing which at once sives a title and imposes a duty on us to interfere with effect wherever power and authority originating from ourselves are perverted from their purposes, and become instruments of wrong and violence. If Parliament, sir, had nothing to do with this charter, we might have some sort of Epicurean excuse to stand aloof, indifferent spectators of what passes in the Company's name in India and in London ; but if we are the very cause of the evil, we are in a special manner engaged to the redress ; and for us passively to bear with op- pressions committed under the sanction of our own authority is, in truth and reason, for this House to be an active accomplice in the abuse. That the power notoriously, grossly abused has been bought from us, is very certain ; but this circumstance, which is urged against the bill, becomes an additional motive for our inter- ference, lest we .should be thought to have sold the blood of millions of men for the base consid- eration of money. We sold, I admit, all that wc had to sell, that is our authority, not our control. We had not a right to make a market of our du- ties. I ground myself, therefore, on this principle, that if the abuse is proved, the contract is broken, * Mr. Burke here alludes to regal authority, and hints at tlie ar2:uinent drawn Irom the exclusion of James II. at the Revolution of 1688, on which Mr. Fox insisted so powerfully in his speech the same evenin.ir. and we re-enter into all our rights, that is, into the exercise of all our duties. Our own is liable to authority is indeed as much a trust orig- jfthrtruat inally as the Company's authority is a be abused. trust derivatively ; and it is the use we make of the resumed power that must justify or con- demn us in the resumption of it. When we have perfected the plan laid before us by the right honorable mover, the world will then see what it is we destroy, and what it is we create. By that test we stand or fall, and by that test I trust that it will be found in the issue, that we are going to supersede a charter abused to the full extent of all the powers which it could abuse, and exei'cised in the plenitude of despot- ism, tyranny, and corruption ; and that, in one and the same plan, we provide a real chartered security for the rights of men cruelly violated under that charter. This bill, and those connected with it, are in- tended to form the Magna Charta of Hindostan.^ Whatever the treaty of Westphalia is to the lib- erty of the princes and free cities of the empirCj and to the three religions there professed ; what- ever the great charter, the statute of tallage, the petition of right, and the declaration of right, are to Great Britain, these bills are to the people of India. Of this benefit, I am certain, their con- dition is capable, and when I know that they are capable of more, my vote shall most assuredly be for our giving to the full extent of their capacity of receiving, and no charter of dominion shall stand as a bar in my way to their charter of safety and protection. The strong admission I have made of the Company's rights (I am conscious of it) binds me to do a great deal. I do not presume to condemn those who argue a priori against the propriety of leaving such extensive political pow- ers in the hands of a company of merchants. I know much is, and much more may be said against such a system ; but with my particular ideas and sentiments, I can not go that way to work.*^ I feel an insuperable reluctance in giv- ing my hand to destroy any established institu- tion of government upon a theory, however plau- sible it may be. My experience in life teaches me nothing clear upon the subject. I have known merchants with the sentiments and the abilities of great statesmen, and I have seen per- sons in the rank of statesmen, with the concep- tion and character of peddlers. Indeed, my ob- servation has furnished me with nothing that is to be found in any habits of life or education, 5 This is an instance of Mr. Burke's habit of rising from the particular case before Iiira, and connecting it with a higher range of collateral thought. It is in this way that he adds great dignity to his subject, and often enriches it with venerable associations. 6 We have here an instance of Mr. Burke's utter repugnance to argue any question on the ground of mere abstract right. Some might deny the binding force of a charter which gave such ample powers ; but his habits of mind led him to abide by all estab- lished institutions until driven from them by the most obvious necessity. 1783.] EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX. 315 which tends wholly to disqualify men for the functions of government, but that by which the power of exercising those functions is very fre- quently obtained, I mean a spirit and habits of low cabal and intrigue, which I have never, in one instance, seen united with a capacity for sound and manly policy. To justify us in taking the administration of their affairs out of the hands of the East justifies a India Company, on my principles, I revocation, ^ust scc scveral conditiotts. 1st. The object afi'ected by the abuse should be gi^eat and important. 2d. The abuse affecting this great object ought to be a great abuse. 3d. It .ought to be habitual, and not accidental. 4th. It ought to be utterly incurable in the body as it now stands constituted. All this ought to be made as visible to me as the light of the sun, before I should strike off an atom of their charter. A right honorable gentleman [Mr. Pitt] has said, and said, I think, but once, and that very slightly (whatever his original demand for a plan might seem to require), that "there are abuses in the Company's government." If that were all, the scheme of the mover of this bill, the scheme of his learned friend, and his own scheme of refor- mation (if he has any), are all equally needless. There are, and must be, abuses in all govern- ments. It amounts to no more than a nugatory proposition. But before I consider of what na- ture these abuses are of which the gentleman speaks so very lightly, permit me to i-ecall to your recollection the map of the country which this abased chartered right affects. This I shall do, that you may judge whether in that map I can discover any thing like the first of my con- ditions, that is, whether the object affected by the abuse of the East India Company's power be of importance sufficiently to justify the meas- ure and means of reform applied to it in this bill. (1.) With very few, and those inconsiderable „ . , ^ intervals, the British dominion, either Magnitude of . , J. . the ob eit ef ui the Company s name, or m the names of princes absolutely dependent upon the Company, extends from the mountains that separate India from Tartary to Cape Como- rin, that is, one-and-twenty degrees of latitude ! In the northern parts it is a solid mass of land, about eight hundred miles in length, and four or five hundred broad. As you go southward, it becomes narrower for a space. It afterward dilates ; but, narrower or broader, you possess the whole eastern and northeastern coast of that vast country, quite from the borders of Pegu. Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa, with Benares (now unfoi-tunately in our immediate possession), measure 1 61,978 square English miles ; a terri- tory considerably larger than the whole kingdom of France.''' Oude, with its dependent provin- ces, is 53,286 square miles, not a great deal less than England. The Carnatic, with Tanjore and the Circars, is 65,948 square miles, very con- ■^ France has since been materially enlarged, its extent being at present two hundred and four thou- sand square miles. siderably larger than England ; and the whole of the Com]pany's dominions, comprehending Bom- bay and Salsette, amounts to 281,412 square miles, which forms a territory larger than any European dominion, Russia and Turkey except- ed. Through all that vast extent of country there is not a man who eats a mouthful of rice but by permission of the East India Company. So far with regard to the extent. The popu- lation of this great empire is not easy „ , ,. 1 1 -ITT. 1 • Population. to be calculated. VVhen the countries of which it is composed came into our posses- sion, they were all eminently peopled and emi- nently productive, though at that time consid- erably declined from their ancient prosperity. But since they are come into our hands — ! However, if we take the period of our estimate immediately before the utter desolation of the Carnatic, and if we allow for the havoc which our government had even then made in these re- gions, we can not, in my opinion, rate the popu- lation at much less than thirty millions of souls ;* more than four times the number of persons in the island of Great Britain. My next inquiry to that of the number is the quality and description of the inhabit- character of ants. This multitude of men does not ^''« i'^^p'^- consist of an abject and barbarous populace, much less of gangs of savages, like the Guaranies and Chiquitos, who wander on the waste borders of the River of Amazon or the Plate, but a people for ages civilized and cultivated ; cultivated by all the arts of polished life, while we were yet in the woods. There have been (and still the skele- tons remain) princes once of great dignity, author- ity, and opulence. There are to be found the chiefs of tribes and nations. There is to be found an ancient and venerable priesthood, the depository of their laws, learning, and history, the guides of the people while living, and their consolation in death ; a nobility of great antiquity and renown ; a multitude of cities not exceeded in population and trade by those of the first class in Europe ; merchants and bankers, individual houses of whom have once vied in capital with the Bank of Eng- land, whose credit had often supported a totter- ing state, and preserved their governments in the midst of war and desolation ; millions of inge- nious manufacturers and mechanics ; millions of the most diligent, and not the least inteliigent, tillers of the earth. Here are to be found almost all the religions professed by men ; the Bramin- ical, the Mussulmen, the Eastern and the West- ern Christians. If I were to take the whole aggregate of our possessions there, I should compare it, as the nearest parallel I can find, with the empire of Germany. Our immediate possessions I should compare with the Austrian dominions, and they would not suffer in the comparison. The Nabob of Oude might stand for the King of Prussia ; the Nabob of Arcot I would compare, as superior in territory and equal in revenue, to the Elector ^ Now one hundred and fifty millions, great addi- tions having been made to the territory. 316 MR. BURKE ON THE [1783. of Saxony, Cheyte Sing, the Rajah of Benares, might well rank with the Prince of Hesse, at least ; and the Rajah of Tanjore (though hardly equal in extent of dominion, superior in revenue) to the Elector of Bavaria. The Polygars, and the northern Zemindars, and other great chiefs, might well class with the rest of the princes, dukes, counts, mai-quesses, and bishops in the empire, all of whom I mention to honor, and surely with- out disparagement to any or all of those most respectable princes and grandees.^ All this vast mass, composed of so many or- ders and classes of men, is again infinitely divers- ified by manners, by religion, by hereditary em- ployment, through all their possible combinations. This renders the handling of India a matter in a high degree critical and delicate. But oh ! it has been handled rudely indeed. Even some of the reformers seem to have forgot that they had any thing to do but to regulate the tenants of a manor, or the shop-keepers of the next county town. It is an empire of this extent, of this compli- cated nature, of this dignity and importance, that I have compared to Germany and the German government ; not for an exact resemblance, but as a sort of a middle term, by which India might be approximated to our undei'standings, and, if possible, to our feelings, in order to awaken something of sympathy for the unfortunate na- tives, of which I am afraid we are not perfectly susceptible while we look at this very remote ob- ject through a false and cloudy medium. (2.) IMy second condition, necessary to justify Greatness of Hie in touching the charter, is, whether the abuse. ^j^g Company's abuse of their trust, with regard to this great object, be an abuse of great atrocity. I shall beg your permission to consid- er their conduct in two lights : first, the political, and then the commei'cial. Their political conduct (for distinctness) I divide again into two heads : the external, in which I mean to comprehend their conduct in their federal capacity, as it re- lates to powers and states independent, or that not long since were such ; the other internal, namely, their conduct to the countries either im- mediately subject to the Company, or to those who, under the apparent government of native sovereigns, are in a state much lower, and much more miserable, than common subjection. The attention, sir, which I wish to preserve to method will not be considered as unnecessary or affected. ^° Nothing else can help me to selec- ^ This attempt to illustrate the relation of the states of India, by comparing them with those of Germany, is highly characteristic of Mr. Burke, whose mind was ever full of correspondences; but there is something rather fanciful in it, especially when carried out to so great a length. Indeed, Mr. Burke himself seems to have felt that the compari- son might appear a little ludicrous, for he adds, with a slight sneer at the counts, marquesses, and bish- ops, " all of whom I mention to honor.'' 1° This apology for the exactness of his method reminds us of the extraordinary care bestowed by Mr. Burke on the orderly arrangement of his ideas. He sometimes takes pains to conceal it, lest Ins speeches should seem too formal ; but every where tion, out of the infinite niass of materials which have passed under my eye, or can keep my mind steady to the great leading points I have in view. With regard, therefoi-e, to the abuse of the external federal trust, I engage m3-self to pouticai you to make good these three positions, at^u.es. First, I say, that from INIount Imaus (or what- ever else you call that large range of mountains that walls the northern frontier of India), where it touches us in the latitude of twenty-nine, to Cape Comorin, in the latitude of eight, there is not a single prince, state, or potentate, great or small, in India, with whom they have come into contact, whom they have not sold. I say sold.^ though sometimes they have not been able to deliver according to their bargain. Secondly, I say, that there is not a single treaty they have ever made which they have not broken. Third- ly, I say, that there is not a single prince or state, who ever put any trust in the Company, who is not utterly ruined ; and that none are in any degree secure or flourishing, but in the exact proportion to their settled distrust and irrecon- cilable enmity to this nation. These assertions are universal. I say, in the full sense, universal. They regard the external and political trust only ; but I shall produce others fully equivalent in the internal. For the present, I shall content myself with explaining my mean- ing ; and if I am called on for proof while these bills are depending (which I believe I shall not), I will put my finger on the appendices to the I'e- ports, or on papers of record in the House, or the committees, which I have distinctly present to my memory, and which I think I can lay before you at half an hom-'s warning. The first potentate sold by the Company for money was the Great Mogul, the de- saie of princes scendant of Tamerlane. This high *'«* ^^^'^e*- personage, as high as human veneration can look at, is, by every account, amiable in his manners, respectable for his piety according to his mode, and accomplished in all the Oriental literature. All this, and the title derived under his charter to all that we hold in India, could not save him from the general sale. Money is coined in his name ; in his name justice is administered ; he is prayed for in every temple through the coun- tries we possess — but he was sold ! It is impossible, Mr. Speaker, not to pause here for a moment, to reflect on the inconstancy of human greatness, and the stupendous revolu- tions that have happened in our age of wonders. Could it be believed, when I entered into exist- ence, or when you, a younger man, were born, that on this day, in this House, we should be cm- ployed in discussing the conduct of those British subjects who had disposed of the power and per- son of the Grand Mogul? This is no idle spec- ulation. Awful lessons are taught by it, and by other events, of which it is not yet too late to profit. , [Mr. Burke here goes on to state the terms on which the Great Mogul was bctraved we see traces of elaborate forecast in the disposition of his materials. 1783.] EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX. 317 into the hands of his chief minister Sujah Dow- lah, and adds :] The descendant of Tamerlane now stands in need ahnost of the common nec- essaries of life, and in this situation we do not al- low him, as bounty, the smallest portion of what we owe him in justice. The next sale was that of the whole nation of the Rohillas, which the grand salesman, without a pretense of quarrel, and contrary to his own declared sense of duty and rectitude, sold to the same Sujah ul Dowlah. Ho sold the people to utter extirpation for the sum of four hundred thousand pounds. Faithfully was the bargain performed on our side. Hafiz Rhamet, the most eminent of their chiefs, one of the bravest men of his time, and as famous throughout the East for the elegance of his literature, and the spirit of his poetical compositions (by which he supported the name of Hafiz), as for his courage, was in- vaded with an army of a hundred thousand men and an English brigade. This man, at the head of inferior forces, was slain, valiantly fighting for his country. His head was cut off", and deliv- ered, for money, to a barbarian. His wife and children, persons of that rank, were seen begging a handful of rice through the English camp. The whole nation, Mnth inconsiderable exceptions, was slaughtered or banished. The country was laid waste with fire and sword ; and that land, dis- tinguished above most others by the cheerful face of paternal government and protected la- bor, the chosen seat of cultivation and plenty, is now almost throughout a dreary desert, covered with rushes and briers, and jungles full of wild beasts. * * * * [Mr. Bm'ke next speaks of numerous other in- stances in which chiefs and countries had been sold by the Company's agents, and adds :] All these bargains and sales were regularly attended with the waste and havoc of the coun- try, always by the buyer, and sometimes by the object of the sale. This was explained to you by the honorable mover when he stated the mode of paying debts due from the country pow- ers to the Company. An honorable gentleman, who is not now in his place, objected to his jump- ing near two thousand miles for an example ; but the southern example is perfectly applicable to the northern claim, as the northern is to the southern ; for, throughout the whole space of these two thousand miles, take your stand where you will, the proceeding is perfectly uniform, and what is done in one part will apply exactly to the other. My second assertion is, that the Company Violation ncvcr has made a treaty which they oftreaties. j^g^yg jjoj- broken. This position is so connected with that of the sales of provinces and kingdoms, with the negotiation of universal dis- traction in every part of India, that a very mi- nute detail may well be spared on this point. [The details given by Mr. Burke under this head abundantly support his position, but are here omitted, as of no present interest to the reader.] My third assertion, relative to the abuse made of the right of war and peace, is, that ah who connd- there are none who have ever confid- ptj"ilave*be^n ed in us who have not been utterly ru- ruined. ined. There is proof more than enough in the condition of the Mogul ; in the slavery and indi- gence of the Nabob of Oude ; the exile of the Ra- jah of Benares ; the beggary of the Nabob of Ben- gal ; the undone and captive condition of the Ra- jah and kingdom of Tanjore; the destruction of the Polygars; and, lastly, in the destruction of the Nabob of Arcot himself, who, when his domin- ions were invaded, was found entirely destitute of troops, provisions, stores, and (as he asserts) money, being a million in debt to the Company, and four millions to others ; the many millions which he had extorted from so many extirpated princes and their desolated countries having, as he has frequently hinted, been expended for the ground-rent of his mansion-house in an alley in the suburbs of Madras. Compare the condition of all these princes with the power and authority of all the Mahratta states ; with the independence and dignity of the Soubah [Prince] of the Dec- can ; and the mighty strength, the resources, and the manly struggle of Hyder Ali ; and then the House will discover the effects, on every power in India, of an easy confidence, or of a rooted distrust in the faith of the Company. These are some of my reasons, grounded on the abuse of the external political trust of that bod}', for thinking myself not only justified, but bound to declare against those chartered rights which produce so many wrongs. I should deem myself the wickedest of men if any vote of mine could contribute to the continuance of so great an evil. Now, sir, according to the plan I proposed, I shall take notice of the Company's in- Abuse^inthe ternal government, as it is exercised internal gov. - , T \ . 1 eminent first on the dependent provmces, and then as it affects those under the direct and im- mediate authority of that body. And here, sir, before I enter into the spirit of their interior government, permit me to observe to you upon a few of the many lines of difference which are to be found between the vices of the Company's government, and those of the conquerors who preceded us in India, that we may be enabled a little the better to see our way in an attempt to the necessary reformation. The several irruptions of Arabs, Tartars, and Persians into India were, for the Eariy invaders greater part, ferocious, bloody, and iJ"^] wituThe wasteful in the extreme. ■^^ Our en- ^"s''*''- trance into the dominion of that country was, as generally, with small comparative eirusion of blood, being introduced by various frauds and delusions, and by taking advantage of the incu- rable, blind, and senseless animosity which the several country powers bear toward each other, rather than by open force. But the difllerence in favor of the first conquerors is this : the ^' This comparisou is in Mr. Burke's finest style, exhibiting not only admirable powers of description, but of philosophical observation as to the sources of national prosperity. 318 MR. BURKE ON THE [1783. Asiatic conquerors very soon abated of their fe- rocity, because they made the conquered coun- try their own. They rose or fell with the rise or fall of the territory they lived in. Fathers there deposited the hopes of their posterity ; and children there beheld the monuments of their fathers. Here their lot was finally cast ; and it is the natural wish of all that their lot should not be cast in a bad land. Poverty, sterility, and desolation are not a recreating prospect to the eye of man ; and there are very few who can bear to grow old among the curses of a whole people. If their passion or their avarice drove the Tartar hordes to acts of rapacity or tyranny, there was time enough, even in the short life of man, to bring round the ill effects of an abuse of power upon the power itself. If hoards were made by violence and tyranny, they were still domestic hoards ; and domestic profusion, or the rapine of a more powerful and prodigal hand, restored them to the people. With many disorders, and with few political checks upon power, nature had still fair play, the sources of acquisition were not dried up ; and therefore the trade, the manufactures, and the commerce of the country flourished. Even avarice and usury itself operated, both for the preservation and the employment of national weath. The husband- man and manufacturer paid heavy interest, but then they augmented the fund from whence they were again to borrow. Their resources were dearly bought, but they were sure : and the gen- eral stock of the community grew by the gener- al effort. But, under the English government, all this order is reversed. The Tartar invasion was mischievous, but it is our protection that destroys India. It was their enmity, but it is our friend- ship. Our conquest there, after twenty years, is as crude as it was the first day. The natives scarcely know w^hat it is to see the gray head of an Englishman. Young men (boys almost) govern there, without society, and without sym- path}'^ with the natives. They have no more social habits with the people than if they still resided in England, nor, indeed, any species of intercourse but that which is necessary to mak- ing a sudden fortune, with a view to a remote settlement. Animated with all the avarice of age, and all the impetuosity of youth, they roll in one after another, wave after wave ; and there is nothing before the eyes of the natives but an endless, hopeless prospect of new flights of birds of prey and passage, with appetites continually renewing for a food that is continually wasting.'- 12 There is here a mixture of incongruous images, which is not common with Mr. Burke. The English adventurers are in the same sentence waves of the sea, and yet birds of prey ! But, passing by this, we have at the close of the sentence a fault into which Mr. Burke does very often fall, that of running out his images into too many particulars. "New flights of birds of prey" was a striking metaphor to represent the successive arrivals of English ad- venturers. The extension of the idea to birds of "passage" was perhaps unfortunate, because it Every rupee of profit made by an Englishman is lost forever to India. With us are no retributo- ry superstitions, by which a foundation of charity compensates, through ages, to the poor, for the rapine and injustice of a day. With us, no pride erects stately monuments which repair the mis- chiefs which pride had produced, and which adorn a country out of its own spoils. England has erected no churches, no hospitals,^^ no pala- ces, no schools ; England has built no bridges, made no high-roads, cut no navigations, dug out no reservoirs. Every other conqueror of every other description has left some monument, either of state or beneficence, behind him. Were we to be driven out of India this day, nothing would remain to tell that it had been possessed, during the inglorious period of our dominion, by any thing better than the orang-outang or the tiger. There is nothing in the boys we send to India worse than the boys whom we are whipping at school, or that we see trailing a pike or bending over a desk at home. But as English youth in India drink the intoxicating draught of authority and dominion before their heads are able to bear it, and as they are full grown in fortune long be- fore they are ripe in principle, neither nature nor reason have any opportunity to exert themselves for remedy of the excesses of their premature power. The consequences of their conduct, which in good minds (and many of theirs are probably such) might produce penitence or amendment, are unable to pursue the rapidity of their flight. Their prey is lodged in En- gland ; and the cries of India are given to seas and winds, to be blown about, in every breaking up of the monsoon, over a remote and unhearing ocean. In India, all the vices operate by which sudden fortune is acquii-ed; in England are often displayed, by the same persons, the virtues which dispense hereditary wealth. Arrived in infi„pnce England, the destroyers of the nobility f>i. Kngiand. and gentry of a whole kingdom will find the best company of this nation at a board of ele- gance and hospitality. Here the manufacturer and husbandman will bless the just and punctual hand that in India has torn the cloth from the loom, or wrested the scanty portion of rice and salt from the peasant of Bengal, or wrung from him the very opium in which he forgot his op- pressions and his oppressor. They marry into your families ; they enter into your senate ; they ease your estates by loans ; they raise their value draws off the mind from the main object, to mark the difference between the two classes of birds. But Mr. Burke goes much farther. He introduces the image by speaking of " an endless, hopeless pros- pect'' of these flights; and then represents them as having "appelilcs" — these arc "continually rencv:- itiir" — the "food" of these "appetites" is next re- ferred to, and this food is then described as "con- tinually wasting.'' By these details, the mind is drawn off from the principal object to a mere pic- ture. Such images may dazzle, but they do not illustrate or enforce the leading thought, which is the appropriate object of figurative language. '^ The paltry foundation at Calcutta is scarcely worth naming as an exception. 1783.] EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX. 319 b}' demand ; they cherish and protect your rela- tions which lie heavy on your patronage ; and there is scarcely a house in the kingdom that does not feel some concern and interest that makes all reform of our Eastern government ap- pear officious and disgusting, and, on the whole, a most discouraging attempt. In such an at- tempt, you hurt those who are able to return kindness or to resent injury. If you succeed, you save those who can not so much as give you thanks. All these things show the difficulty of the work we have on hand, but they show its necessity too. Our Indian government is, in its best state, a grievance. It is necessary that the correctives should be uncommonly vigorous, and the work of men sanguine, warm, and even im- passioned in the cause. But it is an arduous thing to plead against abuses of a power which originates from your own country, and affects those whom we are used to consider as strangers. I shall certainly endeavor to modulate myself to this temper, though I am sensible that a cold style of desci'ibing actions which appear to me in a very affecting light, is equally contrary to the justice due to the people, and to all genuine human feelings about them. I ask pardon of truth and nature for this compliance ; but I shall be very sparing of epithets either to per- sons or things. It has been said (and, with re- gard to one of them, with truth) that Tacitus and Machiavel, by their cold way of relating enormous crimes, have in some sort appeared not to disapprove them : that they seem a sort uf professors of the art of tyranny, and that they corrupt the minds of their readers by not ex- pressing the detestation and horror that natu- rally belong to horrible and detestable proceed- ings. But we are in general, sir, so little ac- quainted with Indian details ; the instruments of oppression under which the people suffer are so hard to be understood : and even the very names of the sufferers are so uncouth and strange to our ears, that it is very difficult for our sympathy to fix upon these objects. I am sure that some of us have come down stairs from the committee-room with impressions on our minds which to us were the inevitable re- sults of our discoveries ; yet, if we should ven- ture to express ourselves in the proper language of our sentiments to other gentlemen not at all prepared to enter into the cause of them, noth- ing could appear more harsh and dissonant, more violent and unaccountable, than our language and behavior. All these circumstances ai'e not, I confess, very favorable to the idea of our at- tempting to govern India at all ; but there we are ; there we are placed by the Sovereign Dis- poser ; and we must do the best we can in our situation. The situation of man is the preceptor of his duty. | ITpon the plan which I laid down, and to which } I beg leave to return, I was considering the con- ] duct of the Company to those nations which are indirectly subject to their authority. [Mr. Burke ! here goes into very ample details of the injuries inflicted on states and monarchs connected with 1 the East India Company. Some of these will come up again in his speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, and in ]\Ir. Sheridan's speech on the treatment of the Begums or Princesses of Oude. Having made out his case by the enu- meration of these atrocities, he proceeds to his conclusion as follows :] As the Company has made this use of their trust, I should ill discharge mine if I refused to give my most cheerful vote for the redress of these abuses, by putting the affairs of so large and valuable a part of the intei'ests of this na- tion, and of mankind, into some steady hands, possessing the confidence and assured of the support of this House, until they can be restored to regularity, order, and consistency. I have touched the heads of some of the griev- ances of the people and the abuses of govern- ment, but I hope and trust you will give me credit when I faithfully assure you that I have not mentioned one fourth part of what has come to my knowledge in your committee ; and, far- ther, I have full reason to believe that not one fourth part of the abuses are come to my knowl- edge, by that or by any other means. Pray consider what I have said only as an index to direct you in your inquiries. If this, then, sir, has been the use made of the trust of political powers, internal and commercial external, given by you in the charter, oAire^cw' the next thing to be seen is the con- p^''^'- duct of the Company with regard to the com- mercial trust. And here I will make a fair offer : If it can be proved that they have acted wisely, prudently, and frugally, as merchants, I shall pass by the whole mass of their enormities as statesmen. That they have not done this, their present condition is proof sufficient. Their distresses are said to be owing to their wars. This is not wholly true ; but if it were, is not that readiness to engage in war which distin- guishes them, and for which the Committee of Secrecy has so branded their politics, founded on the falsest principles of mercantile speculation? The principle of buying cheap and selling dear is the first, the great foundation of mer- ^ •1 1 ,• ij TT 1 Tests of good cantile dealing.^"* Have they ever at- mercantile tended to this principle ? Nay, for ""^"^s*""®" ■ years have they not actually authorized in their servants a total indifference as to the prices they were to pay ? A great deal of strictness in driving bargains for whatever we contract is another of the prin- ciples of mercantile policy. Try the Company by that test ! Look at the contracts that are ^* There is great ingenuity in throwing the argu- ment to show the commercial incompetency and mismanagement of the Company into this form. The idea of tests was calculated to arrest attention. Those selected commend themselves to the good sense of all, as indispensable requisites in a good merchant. Curiosity is excited as Mr. Burke, in stating each test, goes on to apply it to the conduct of the Company. The inference is irresistible, theT/ are not Jit to he intrusted with such vast commercial interests. 320 MR. BURKE ON THE [1783. made for them. Is the Company so much as a good commissary for their own armies? I en- gage to select for you, out of the innumerable mass of their dealings, all conducted veiy nearly alike, one contract only, the excessive profits on which, during a short term, would pay the whole of their year's dividend. I shall undertake to show that, upon two others, the inordinate prof- its given, with the losses incurred in order to secure those profits, would pay a year's divi- dend more. It is a third property of trading men to see that the clerks do not divert the dealings of the master to their own benefit. It was the other day, only, when their governor and council taxed the Company's investment with a sum of fifty thousand pounds, as an inducement to persuade only seven members of their Board of Trade to give their honor that they would abstain from such profits upon that investment as must have violated their oaths if they had made at all ! It is a fourth quality of a mei'chant to be ex- act in his accounts. What will be thought when you have fully before you the mode of accounting made use of in the treasury of Bengal ? I hope you will have it soon. With regard to one of their agencies, when it came to the material part, the prime cost of the goods on which a commission of fifteen per cent, was allowed, to the astonishment of the factory to whom the commodities were sent, the accountant general reports that he did not think himself authorized to call for vouchers relative to this and other particulars, because the agent was upon his honor with regard to them ! A new principle of account upon honor seems to be regularly established in their dealings and their treasury, which in reality amounts to an entire annihila- tion of the principle of all accounts. It is a fifth property of a merchant who does not meditate a fraudulent bankruptcy to calcu- late his probable profits upon the money he takes up to vest in business. Did the Company, when they bought goods on bonds bearing eight per cent, interest, at ten and even twenty per cent, discount, even ask themselves a question con- cerning the possibility of advantage from deal- ing on these terms ? The last quality of a merchant I shall advert to is the taking care to be properly prepared, in cash or goods, in the ordinary course of sale, for the bills which are drawn on them. Now I ask whether they have ever calculated the clear produce of any given sales, to make them tally with the four millions of bills which are come and coming upon them, so as at the proper peri- ods to enable the one to liquidate the other ? No, they have not. They are now obliged to borrow money of their own servants to purchase their investment. The servants stipulate five per cent, on the capital they advance if their bills should UQt be paid at the time when they become due ; and the value of the rupee on which they charge this interest is taken at two shillings and a penny. Has the Company ever troubled themselves to inquire whether their j sales can bear the payment of that interest, and at that rate of exchange ? Have they once con- sidered the dilemma in which they are placed — the ruin of their credit in the East Indies if they refuse the bills — the ruin of their credit and ex- istence in England if they accept them ? In- deed, no trace of equitable government is found in their politics ; not one trace of commercial principle in their mercantile dealing ; and hence is the deepest and maturest wisdom of Parlia- ment demanded, and the best resources of this kingdom must be strained to restore them : that is, to restore the countries destroyed by the mis- conduct of the Company, and to restore the Com- pany itself, ruined by the consequences of their plans for destroying w^hat they were bound to preserve. (3.) I required, if you remember, at my out- set, a proof that these abuses were ha- jhe abuses bitual ; but surely this is not necessary ''^bituai, for me to consider as a separate head, because I trust I have made it evident beyond a doubt, in considering the abuses themselves, that they are regular, permanent, and systematical. (4.) I now come to my last condition, without which, for one, I will never readily lend And incu- my hand to the destruction of any estab- '■^'^'®- lished government, w^hich is, that in its present state the government of the East India Com- pany is absolutely incorrigible. Of this great truth I think there can be little doubt, after all that has appeared in this House. It is so very clear, that I must consider the leav- ing any power in their hands, and the determined resolution to continue and countenance every mode and every degree of peculation, oppression, and tyranny, to be one and the same thing. I look upon that body incorrigible, from the tullest consideration both of their uniform conduct, ana their present real and virtual constitution. If they had not constantly been apprised of all the enormities committed in India under Tiie abuses their authority ; if this state of things tSt "r had been as much a discovery to them dressed. as it was to many of us, we might flatter our- selves that the detection of the abuses would lead to their reformation. I will go farther : if the court of directors had not uniformly condemned every act which this House or any of its commit- tees had condemned ; if the language in which they expressed their disapprobation against enor- mities and their authors had not been much more vehement and indignant than any ever used in this House, I should entertain some hopes. If they had not, on the other hand, as uniformly commended all their servants who had done their duty and obeyed their orders, as they had heavily censured those who rebelled, I might say these people have been in error, and when they are sensible of it they will mend. But when I reflect on the uniformity of their support to the objects of their uniform censure, and the state of insig- nificance and disgrace to which all of those have been reduced whom they approved, and that even utter ruin and premature death have been among the fruits of their favor, I must be convinced that. 1783,] EAST INDIA BILL OF MR. FOX. 321 in this case as in all others, h3'pocrisy is the only vice that never can be cured. Attend, I pray you, to the situation and pros- perity of Benfield,'"'' Hastin • aged. It was openly managed by the His activity m p t J n .' Mr. Pitt's favor dircct agcut aud attorney of Benfield. during the elec- " t t • • tionori7S4,and it was managed upon Indian prmci- ples, and for an Indian interest. This was the golden cup of abominations ; this the chalice of fornications of rapine, usury, and op- pression, which was held out by the gorgeous Eastern harlot ; which so many of the people, so many of the nobles of this land, had drained to the very dregs. Do you think that no reck- oning was to follow this lewd debauch ? that no payment was to be demanded for this riot of public drunkenness and national prostitution? Here ! you have it here before you. The prin- cipal of the grand election manager must be in- demnified ; accordingly, the claims of Benfield and his crew must be put above all inquiry ! For several years, Benfield appeared as the chief proprietor, as well as the chief agent, di- rector, and controller of this system of debt. The worthy chairman of the Compa- Amnuntof Ben- •' . c ^ • • ^ field's interest in ny has Stated the claims oi this single gentleman on the Nabob of Arcot as amounting to five hundred thousand pounds. Possibly, at the time of the chairman's statement, they might have been as high. Eight hundred thousand pounds had been mentioned some time before ; and, according to the practice of shifting the names of creditors in these transactions, and reducing or raising the debt itself at pleasure, I think it not impcssible that at one period the name of Benfield might have stood before those frightful figures. But my best information goes to fix his share no higher than four hundred thousand pounds. By the scheme of the pres- ent ministry for adding to the principal twelve per cent, from the year 1777 to the year 1781, four hundred thousand pounds, that smallest of the sums ever mentioned for Mr. Benfield, will form a capital of c£592,000 at six per cent. Thus, besides the arrears of three years, amount- ing to c£ 106,500 (which, as fast as received, may be legally lent out at twelve per cent.), Benfield has received, by the ministerial grant before you, an annuity of 6^3 5, 520 a year, charged on the public revenues. Our mirror of ministers of finance did not think this enough for the services of such a friend as Benfield. He found that Lord Macartney, in or- der to frighten the court of Directors from the object of obliging the Nabob to give soucar se- curity for his debt, assured them that, if they should take that step, Benfield would infallibly be the soucar, and would thereby become the entire master of the Carnatic:' What Lord Ma- cartney thought sufficient to deter the very agents and partakers with Benfield in his iniqui- ties was the inducement to the two right hon- orable gentlemen to order this very soucar se- curity to be given, and to recall Benfield to the city of Madras, from the sort of decent exile into which he had been releijated by Lord Macart- ney. You must, therefore, consider Benfield as soucar security for c£480,000 a year, which, at twenty-four per cent, (supposing him contented with that profit), will, with the interest of his old debt, produce an annual income of d6l49,520 a year. Hei'e is a specimen of the ne^v and pure aris- tocracy created by the right honorable gentle- man [Mr. Pitt], as the support of the Crown and Constitution, against the old, corrupt, refractory, natural interests of this kingdom ; and this is the grand counterpoise against all odious coali- tions of these interests.^^ A single Benfield out- weighs them all. A criminal, who long since ought to have fattened the region kites with his offal, is, by his Majesty's ministers, enthroned in the government of a great kingdom, and en- feoffed with an estate which, in the comparison, effaces the splendor of all the nobility of Europe. To bring a little more distinctly into view the true secret of this dark transaction, I beg you particularly to advert to the circumstances which I am going to place before you. The general corps of creditors, as well as Mr. Benfield himself, not looking well Temporary with- into futurity, nor presaging the min- Jrawaiof Ben- .' ' r , • field's name trora ister of this day, thought it not ex- the list of credit- pedient for their common interest that such a name as his should stand at the bead of their list. It was therefore agreed among them that Mr. Benfield should disappear by mak- ing over his debt to Messrs. Taylor, Majendie, *^ This sneer refers to the attacks made by Mr. Pitt on Mr. Fox's coalition with Lord North. 1785] NABOB OF ARGOT'S DEBTS. 359 and Call, and should, in return, be secured by their bond. The debt thus exonerated of so great a weight of its odium, and otherwise reduced from its alarming bulk, the agents thought they might venture to print a list of the creditors. This was done for the first time in the year 1783, during the Duke of Portland's administration. In this list the name of Benfield was not to be seen. To this strong negative testimony was added the farther testimony of the Nabob of Arcot. That prince (or, rather, Mr. Benfield for him) writes to the court of Directors a letter full of com- plaints and accusations against Lord Macartney, conveyed in such terms as were natural for one of Mr. Benfield's habits and education to employ. Among the rest, he is made to complain of his Lordship's endeavoring to prevent an intercoui'se of politeness and sentiment between him [the Nabob] and Mr. Benfield ; and, to aggravate the affront, he expressly declares Mr. Benfield's vis- its to be only on account of respect and of grat- itude, as no pecu7iiary transactions subsisted be- tween them ! Such, for a considerable space of time, was the Suit of Benfield outward form of the loan of 1777, in ;i,e my'ster^'lo which lix. Bcnficld had no sort of •'o''^ concern. At length intelligence ar- rived at INIadras that this debt, which had always been renounced by the court of Directors, was rather like to become the subject of something more like a criminal inquiry than of any patron- age or sanction from Parliament. Every ship brought accounts, one stronger than the other, of the prevalence of the determined enemies of the Indian system. The public revenues be- came an object desperate to the hopes of Mr. Benfield ; he therefore resolved to fall upon his associates, and, in violation of that faith which subsists among those who have abandoned all other, commences a suit in the Mayor's Court against Taylor, Majendie, and Call for the bond given to him, when he agreed to disappear for his own benefit as well as that of the common concern. The assignees of his debt, who little expected the springing of this mine even from such an engineer as Mr. Benfield, after recov- ering their first alarm, thought it best to take ground on the real state of the transaction. They divulged the whole mystery, and were prepared to plead that they had never received from Mr. Benfield any other consideration for the bond than a transfer, in trust for himself, of his demand on the Nabob of Arcot. A univers- al indignation arose against the perfidy of Mr. Benfield's proceedings. The event of the suit was looked upon as so certain, that Benfield was compelled to retreat as precipitately as he had advanced boldly ; he gave up his bond, and was reinstated in his original demand, to wait the for- tune of other claimants. At that time, and at Madras, this hope was dull indeed ; but at home another scene was preparing. It was long before any public account of this discovery at Madras had arrived in England that the present minister and his Board of Control thought fit to determine on the debt of 1777. The recorded proceedings at this „ . ,, * " Benfield permit- time knew nothing of any debt to '"d to return to Benfield. There was his own testi- mony ; there was the testimony of the list ; there was the testimony of the Nabob of Arcot against it; yet such was the ministers' feeling of the true secret of this transaction, that they thought prop- er, in the teeth of all these testimonies, to give him license to return to Madras ! Here the min- isters were under some embarrassment. Con- founded between their resolution of rewarding the good services of Benfield's friends and associates in England, and the shame of sending that notori- ous incendiary to the court of the Nabob of Ar- cot, to renew his intrigues against the British government, at the time they authorize his re- turn, they forbid him, under the severest penal- ties, from any conversation with the Nabob or his ministei-s ; that is, they forbid his communi- cation w^ith the very person on account of his dealings with whom they permit his return to that city ! To overtop this contradiction, there is not a word restraining him from the freest in- tercourse with the Nabob's second son, the real author of all that is done in the Nabob's name, who, in conjunction with this very Benfield, has acquired an absolute dominion over that unhappy man, is able to persuade him to put his signature to whatever paper they please, and often without any communication of the contents. This man- agement was detailed to them at full length by Lord Macartney, and they can not pretend igno- rance of it. I believe, after this exposure of facts, no man can entertain a doubt of the collusion Tids proves of ministers with the corrupt interest tercour^e'be- of the delinquents in India. When- ^^^I^Vy'Ld ever those in authority provide for the Benfield. interest of any person, on the I'cal but concealed state of his affairs, w'ithout regard to his avowed, public, and ostensible pretenses, it must be pre- sumed that they are in confederacy with him, because they act for him on the same fraudulent principles on which he acts for himself. It is plain that the ministers were fully apprised of Benfield's real situation, which he had used means to conceal while concealment answered his purposes. They wei-e, or the person on whom they relied was, of the cabinet council of Benfield, in the very depth of all his mysteries. An honest magistrate compels men to abide by one story. An equitable judge would not hear of the claim of a man who had himself thought proper to renounce it. With such a judge his shuffling and prevarication would have damned his claims ; such a judge never would have known, but in oi'der to animadvert upon, pro- ceedings of that character. I have thus laid before you, Mr. Speaker, I think with sufficient clearness, the connection of the ministers with Mr. Atkinson at the general election ; I have laid open to you the connection of Atkinson with Benfield ; I have shown Ben- field's employment of his wealth, in creating a parliamentary interest, to procure a ministerial 360 MR. BURKE ON THE [1785. protection ; I have set before your eyes his large concern in the debt, his practices to hide that concern from the pubHc eye, and the lib- eral protection which he has received from the minister. If this chain of circumstances do not lead you necessarily to conclude that the minis- inference from ter has paid to the avarice of Ben- «"mote"for field thc scrvices done by Benfiekl's the payment of connectious to his ambition, I do not the Nabob of , . , r> i c Arcot's debts, know any thmg short oi the conies- sion of the party that can satisfy you of his guilt. Clandestine and collusive practice can only be traced by combination and comparison of cir- cumstances. To reject such combination and comparison is to reject the only means of de- tecting fraud ; it is, indeed, to give it a patent and free license to cheat with impunity. I confine myself to the connection of ministers, mediately or immediately, with only two persons concerned in this debt. How many others, who support their power and greatness within and without doors, are concerned originally, or by transfers of these debts, must be left to general opinion. I refer to the reports of the select com- mittee for the proceedings of some of the agents in these affairs, and their attempts, at least, to furnish ministers with the means of buying Gen- eral Courts, and even whole Parliaments, in the gross. I know that the ministers will think it little Ministers not Icss than acquittal, that they are not actinf from^ charged with having taken to thera- tives"but tTie selves somc part of the money of which love of power, they havc made so liberal a donation to their partisans, though the charge may be in- disputably fixed upon the corruption of their pol- itics. For my part, I follow their crimes to that point to which legal presumptions and natural in- dications lead me, without considering what spe- cies of evil motive tends most to aggravate or to extenuate the guilt of their conduct ; but if I am to speak my private sentiments, I think that in a thousand cases for one it would be far less mis- chievous to the public, and full as little dishon- orable to themselves, to be polluted with direct bribery, than thus to become a standing auxiliary to the oppression, usury, and peculation of mul- titudes, in order to obtain a corrupt support to their power. It is by bribing, not so often by being bribed, that wicked politicians bring ruin on mankind. Avarice is a rival to the pursuits of many. It finds a multitude of checks, and many opposers, in every walk of life. But the objects of ambition are for the few; and every person who aims at indirect profit, and therefore wants other protection than innocence and law, instead of its rival, becomes its instrument. There is a natural allegiance and fealty due to this domineering, paramount evil, from all the vassal vices, which acknowledge its superiority, and readily militate under its banners ; and it is under that discipline alone that avarice is able to spread, to any considerable extent, or to ren- der itself a general public mischief. It is, there- fore, no apology for ministers that they have not "been bought by the East India delinquents, but that they have only formed an alliance with them for screening each other from justice, according to the exigence of their several necessities. That thc}^ have done so is evident ; and the junction of the power of office in England with the abuse of authority in the East has not only prevented even the appearance of redress to the grievances of India, but I wish it may not be found to have dulled, if not extinguished, the honor, the candor, the generosity, the good nature, which used for- merly to characterize the people of England. I confess I wish that some more feeling than I have yet observed for the sufferings of our fel- low-creatures and fellow-subjects in that op- pressed part of the world had manifested itself in any one quarter of the kingdom, or in any one large description of men. That these oppressions exist is a fact no more denied, than it is resented as it ought „ ., ' . S3 _ Hence the op- to be. Much evil has been done in pressionsofthe India under the British authority. iooked°and neg- What has been done to redress it? '^*^'*'^' We are no longer surprised at an)'' thing. We are above the unlearned and vulgar passion of admiration.^^ But it will astonish posterity when they read our opinions in our actions, that, after years of inquiry, we have found out that the sole grievance of India consisted in this, that the servants of the Company there had not profited enough of their opportunities, nor drained it suf- ficiently of its treasures ; when they shall hear that the very first and only important act of a commission, specially named by act of Parlia- ment, is to charge upon an undone country, in favor of a handful of men in the humblest ranks of the public service, the enormous sum of per- haps four millions of sterling money ! It is difficult for the most wise and upright government to correct the abuses of remote del- egated power, productive of unmeasured wealth, and protected by the boldness and strength of the same ill-got riches. These abuses, full of their own wild native vigor, will grow and flour- ish under mere neglect. But where the supreme authority, not content with winking at the ra- pacity of its inferior instruments, is so shameless and corrupt, as openly to give bounties and pre- miums for disobedience to its laws ; when it will not trust to the activity of avarice in the pursuit of its own gains ; when it secures public robbery by all the careful jealousy and attention with which it ought to protect property from such violence ; the commonwealth then is become to- tally perverted from its purposes; neither God nor man will long endure it ; nor will it long endure itself. In that case, there is an unnat- ural infection, a pestilential taint fermenting in the constitution of society, which fever and con- vulsions of some kind or other must throw off; or in which the vital powers, worsted in an un- *^ Nil admirari prope res est una, Namici, Sola qua possit facere at servare beatum. Horace, Epist. vi. Not to admire is all the art I know, To make men happy, and to keep them so. 1785.] NABOB OF ARCOT-S DEBTS. 361 equal struggle, are pushed back upon them- selves, and, by a reversal of their whole func- tions, fester to gangrene — to death ; and instead of what was but just now the delight and boast of the creation, there will be oast out in the face of the sun a bloated, putrid, noisome carcass, full of stench and poison, an offense, a horror, a les- son to the world. In my opinion, we ought not to wait for the fruitless instruction of calamity to inquire into the abuses which bring upon us ruin in the worst of its forms, in the loss of our fame and virtue. Mr. Dundas' ^^^^ ^^^® right lionorablo gentleman pretense that \^li-, Duudasl savs, in auswcr to all the subject IS "■ p i c i toodchcaceto the powcrlul arguments oi my honor- be taken up. ^^^j^ ^^,.^^j ^^j^ ^^^-j^ u ^j^^^ ^j^j^ ^^^^^^■^_ ry is of a delicate nature, and that the state will suffer detriment by the exposure of this transac- tion." But it is exposed. It is perfectly known in every member, in every particle, and in every way, except that which may lead to a remedy. He knows that the papers of correspondence are printed, and that they are in every hand. He and delicacy are a rare and singular coa- lition. He thinks that to divulge our Indian poli- tics may be highly dangerous. He ! the mov- er ! the chairman ! the reporter of the Commit- tee of Secrecy ! he that brought forth in the ut- most detail, in several vast, printed folios, the most recondite parts of the politics, the military, the revenues of the British empire in India ! With six great chopping bastards [Reports of the Committee of Secrecy], each as lusty as an infant Hercules, this delicate creature blushes at the sight of his new bridegroom, assumes a vir- gin delicacy ; or, to use a more fit, as well as a more poetic comparison, the person so squeam- ish, so timid, so trembling, lest the winds of heaven should visit too roughly, is expanded to broad sunshine, exposed like the sow of imperial augury, lying in the mud with all the prodigies of her fertility about her, as evidence of her deli- cate amours : Triginta capitura fcEtus enixa jacebit, Alba, solo recubans, albi circum ubera nati.*' *^ Mr. Burke here accommodates to his purpose a passage of Virgil's .ffineid, book iii., p. 391, in which the prophet Helenas gives a sign to iEneas indica- tive of the spot where he should build a city, and cease from his labors. Cum tibi soUcito secretb ad fluminis undam.. Littoreis ingens inventa sub ilicibus sus Trigcnia capitum fcetus enixa jacebit, Alba, solo recubaiLS, albi circum nbcra nati ; Is locus urbis erit, requies ea certa laborum. Dryden has rendered the lines somewhat loosely, in the following manner : When in the shady shelter of a wood. And near the margin of a gentle flood, Thou shalt behold a sow upon the ground. With thirty sucking young encompass' d round, The dam and offspring white as fallen snow, \ These on thy city shall their name bestow, > And there shall end thy labor and thy woe. J No one will dispute the ingenuity of Mr. Burke in turning these lines to his purpose ; but it will be a wonder to most men, that he, who wrote the de- concerns of however While discovery of the misgovernment of oth- ers led to his own power, it was wise to inquire ; it was safe to publish ; there was then no deli- cacy ; there was then no danger. But when his object is obtained, and in his imitation he has outdone the crimes that he had reprobated in volumes of reports, and in sheets of bills of pains and penalties, then concealment becomes pru- dence, and it concerns the safety of the state that we should not know, in a mode of parliamentary cognizance, what all the world knows but too well ; that is, in what manner he chooses to dis- pose of the public revenues to the creatures of his politics. The debate has been long, and as much so on my part, at least, as on the part perorat of those who have spoken before mc. j',Jj^^' But long as it is, the more material perplexed or re- u IP r 1 1 • 1 1 11 I pulsive,cannev- naii OI the subject has hardly been er cease to in- touched on; that is, the corrupt and andsaSoft^e destructive system to which this debt '''"P"'^- has been rendered subservient, and which seems to be pursued with at least as much vigor and regularity as ever. If I considered your ease or my own, rather than the weight and importance of this question, I ought to make some apology to you, perhaps some apology to myself, for hav- ing detained your attention so long. I know on what ground I tread. This subject, at one time taken up with so much fervor and zeal, is no longer a favorite in this House. The House it- self has undergone a great and signal revolution. To some the subject is strange and uncouth ; to several harsh and distasteful ; to the relics of the last Parliament it is a matter of fear and appre- hension. It is natural for those who have seen their friends sink in the tornado which raged during the late .shift of the monsoon, and have hardly escaped on the planks of the general wreck, it is but too natural for them, as soon as they make the rocks and quicksands of their former disasters, to put about their new-built barks, and, as much as possible, to keep aloof from this perilous lee-shore. But let us do what we please to put India from our thoughts, we can do nothing to sepa- rate it from our public interest and our national reputation. Our attempts to banish this importu- nate duty will only make it return upon us again and again, and every time in a shape more un- pleasant than the former. A government has been fabricated for that great province ; the right honoral)le gentleman says, that therefore you ought not to examine into its conduct. Heavens ! what an argument is this ! We are not to ex- amine into the conduct of the direction, because it is an old government ; we are not to examine into this Board of Control, because it is a new one ; then we are only to examine into the con- duct of those who have no conduct to account for. Unfortunately, the basis of this new gov- ernment has been laid on old, condemned delin- quents, and its superstructure is raised out of scription of the dueen of France, could ever have soiled his pages with such a passage as the one above. 362 MR. BURKE. [1785. prosecutors turned into protectors. The event has been such as might be expected. But if it had been otherwise constituted ; had it been constituted even as I M'ished, and as the mover of this question had planned, the better part of the proposed establishment was in the publicity of its proceedings ; in its perpetual responsibility to Parliament. Without this check, what is our government at home ; even awed, as every Eu- ropean government is, by an audience formed of the other states of Europe, by the applause or condemnation of the discerning and critical com- pany before which it acts ? But if the scene on the other side of the globe, which tempts, in- vites, almost compels to tyranny and rapine, be not inspected with the eye of a severe and unre- mitting vigilance, shame and destruction must ensue. For one, the w^orst event of this day, though it may deject, shall not break or subdue me. The call upon us is authoritative. Let who will shrink back, I shall be found at my post. Baffled, discountenanced, subdued, discred- ited, as the cause of justice and humanity is, it will be only the dearer to me. Whoever, there- fore, shall at any time bring before you any thing toward the relief of our distressed fellow- citizens in India, and toward a subversion of the present most corrupt and oppressive system for its government, in me shall find a weak, I am afraid, but a steady, earnest, and faithful assistant. The motion for inquiry was voted down. Mr. Pitt was now at the height of his popularity, and had an overwhelmmg majority at his command, ready to sustain him in all his measures. The consequences were very serious to the finances of the country. Many years were necessarily occupied in paying so large a debt. In 1814 Mr. Hume publicly stated that, according to the best information he could obtain, the amount paid (interest included) was nearly five millions of pounds; nor was this all. Mr. Hume adds, " the knowledge of the fact that Mr. Dundas had in that manner admitted, without any kind of inquiry, the whole claims of the Consolidated Debt of 1777, served as a strong inducement to others to get from the Nabob obligations or bonds of any description, in hopes that some future good- natured president of the Board of Control would do the same for them. We accordingly find that an enormous debt of near thirty millions sterling was very -soon formed after that act of Mr. Dun- das, and urgent applications were soon again made to have the claims paid in the same man- ner." It now became necessary to make a thor- ough inquiry. A Board of Commissioners was ap- pointed to examine into these new claims. After an investigation of many years, only c£ 1,346,796 were allowed as good, thus showing that less than one part in twenty of all these claims could be regarded as true and lawful debts. It is the opinion of w^ell-informed men that the claims of Benfield and his associates, if fairly investigated, would have been reduced in very near the same proportion. But has Mr. Burke made out his case as to the motives of Mr. Pitt ? Has he proved that these claims were allowed without inquiry, as a " rec- ompense" to Benfield and the other creditors for their parliamentary influence ? This question will be differently answered by diflferent persons, according to their estimate of Mr. Pitt's charac- ter. Mill, in his British India, speaking of Mr. Burke's charge, says, " In support of it, he ad- duces as great a body of proof as it is almost ever possible to bring to a fact of such a de- scription." He goes on to examine Mr. Dun- das' defense, that the Nabob and others were al- low^ed "to object" to these claims, and adds, " That this was a blind is . abundantly clear, though it is possible that it stood as much be- tween his ow^n e3'es and the light, as he was desirous of putting it between the light and eyes of other people." There was also another " blind," mentioned by Wraxall, viz., that these claims had, to some extent, changed hands, and that the innocent would suffer with the guilty, if any of them were disallowed. It is easy to see how strongly Mr. Pitt was tempted, at this critical moment of his life, to attach undue im- portance to such considerations. It was impos- sible to go back and lay bare all the frauds and crimes of the English residents in India. To prevent them hereafter was the great object. Once firmly seated in power, he was resolved to do it : and when he was brought off in tri- umph at the polls through the agency (to a con- siderable extent) of men like Benfield, in con- nection with the immense East India interest throughout the country, it was natural for him to feel that he must not be too scrupulous in re- spect to the past, but must rather aim in future at the prevention of all such evils. It is thus that the eri'ors of political men spring from min- gled motives ; and while we can not doubt that Mr. Pitt was more or less influenced in this case, as in that of Mr. Hastings' impeachment, by his "avarice of power," we should be slow to admit that his conduct implies that dereliction of principle imputed to him by Mr. Burke. EXTRACTS. Peroration of the Opening Speech at the Trial of Warren Hastings. In the name of the Commons of England, I charge all this villainy upon Warren Hastings. in this last moment of my application to you. My Lords, what is it that we want here to a great act of national justice ? Do we want a cause, my Lords ? You have the cause of op- pres.sed princes, of undone women of the first rank, of desolated provinces, and of wasted king- doms. EXTRACTS. Do you want a criminal, my Lords ? When was there so much iniquity ever laid to the charge of any one ? No, my Lords, you must not look to punish any other such delinquent from India. Warren Hastings has not left sub- stance enough in India to nourish such another delinquent. My Lords, is it a prosecutor you want ? You have before you the Commons of Great Britain as prosecutors ; and I believe, my Lords, that the sun, in his beneficent progress round the world, does not behold a more glorious sight than that of men, separated from a remote peo- ple by the material bounds and barriers of na- ture, united by the bond of a social and moral community — all the Commons of England re- senting, as their own, the indignities and cruel- ties that are offered to all the people of India. Do we want a tribunal ? My Lords, no ex- ample of antiquity, nothing in the modern world, nothing in the range of human imagination, can supply us with a tribunal like this. My Lords, here we see virtually, in the mind's eye, that sa- cred majesty of the Crown, under whose author- ity you sit, and whose power you exercise. We see in that invisible authority, what we all feel in reality and life, the beneficent powers and pro- tecting justice of his Majesty. We have here the heir-apparent to the Crown, such as the fond wish- es of the people of England wish an heir-apparent of the Crown to be. We have here all the branch- es of the royal family, in a situation between maj- esty and subjection, between the Sovereign and the subject — offering a pledge, in that situation, for the support of the rights of the Crown and the liberties of the people, both which extremities they touch. My Lords, we have a great hered- itary peerage here ; those who have their own honor, the honor of their ancestors, and of their posterity, to guard, and who will justify, as they have always justified, that provision in the Con- stitution by which justice is made an hereditary office. My Lords, we have here a new nobility, who have risen, and exalted themselves, by va- rious merits, by great military services, which have extended the fame of this country from the rising to the setting sun. We have those, who, by various civil merits and various civil talents, have been exalted to a situation which they well deserve, and in which they will justify the favor of their Sovereign and the good opinion of their fellow-subjects, and make them rejoice to see those virtuous characters, that were the other day upon a level with them, now exalted above them in rank, but feeling with them in sympathy what they felt in common with them before. We have persons exalted from the practice of the law, from the place in which they administered high, though subordinate justice, to a seat here, to enlighten with their knowledge, and to strength- en with their votes, those principles which have distinguished the courts in which they have pre- sided. My Lords, you have here, also, the lights of our religion; you have the bishops of England. My Lords, you have that true image of the primitive Church in its ancient form, in its ancient ordi- nances, purified from the superstitions and the vices which a long succession of ages will bring upon the best institutions. You have the repre- sentatives of that religion which says that their God is love, that the very vital spirit of their in- stitution is charity — a religion which so much hates oppression, that when the God whom we adore appeared in human form, he did not appear in a form of greatness and majesty, but in sym- pathy with the lowest of the people, and thereby made it a firm and ruling principle that their welfare was the object of all government, since the person, who was the Master of Nature, chose to appear himself in a subordinate situation. These are the considerations which influence them, which animate them, and will animate them, against all oppression ; knowing that He who is called first among them, and first among us all, both of the flock that is fed and of those who feed it, made himself " the servant of all." My Lords, these are the securities which we have in all the constituent parts of the body of this House. We know them, we reckon, we rest upon them, and commit safely the interests of India and of humanity into your hands. There- fore, it is with confidence, that, ordered by the Commons, I impeach Warren Hastings, Esquire, of high crimes and misdemeanors. I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain, in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of all the Commons of Great Britain, whose national character he has dishonored. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he has subvei-ted, whose property he has destroyed, whose country he has laid waste and desolate. I impeach him in the name, and by virtue, of those eternal laws of justice which he has vio- lated. I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both sexes, in every age, rank, situation, and condition of life. French Revolution : Errors at its Coi\i- MENCEMENT. You began ill, because you began by despising every thing that belonged to you. You set up your trade without a capital. If the last gener- ations of your country appeared without much luster in your eyes, you might have passed them by, and derived your claims from a more early race of ancestors. Under a pious predilection for those ancestors, your imaginations would have realized in them a standard of virtue and wisdom, beyond the vulgar practice of the hour, and you would have risen with the example to 1 The extracts which follow under this head are taken from Mr. Burke's Reflections on the Revo- lution in France, and his Letters on the Regicide Peace. 364 MR. BURKE. whose imitation you aspired. Respecting your forefatliers, you would have been taught to re- spect yourselves. You would not have chosen to consider the French as a people of yesterday, as a nation of low-born, servile wretches, until the emancipating year of 1789. In order to furnish, at the expense of your honor, an excuse to your apologists here for several enormities of yours, you would not have been content to be rep- resented as a gang of Maroon slaves, suddenly broke loose from the house of bondage, and there- fore to be pavdoned for your abuse of the liberty to which you were not accustomed, and were ill fitted. Would it not, my worthy friend, have been wiser to have you thought, what I, for one, always thought you, a generous and gallant na- tion, long misled, to your disadvantage, by your high and romantic sentiments of fidelity, honor, and loyalty ; that events had been unfavorable to you, but that you were not enslaved through any illiberal or servile disposition ; that, in your most devoted submission, you were actuated by a principle of public spirit, and that it was your country you worshiped, in the person of your king ? Had you made it to be understood that, in the delusion of this amiable error, you had gone farther than your wise ancestors ; that you were resolved to resume your ancient privileges, while you preserved the spirit of your ancient and your recent loyalty and honor ; oi-, if diffident of yourselves, and not clearly discerning the almost obliterated Constitution of your ancestors, you had looked to your neighbors in this land, who had kept alive the ancient principles and models of the old common law" of Europe, meliorated and adapted to its present state — by following wise examples you would have given new examples of wisdom to the world. You would have rendered the cause of liberty venerable in the eyes of every worthy mind in every nation. You would have shamed despotism from the earth, by showing that freedom was not only reconcilable, but as, when well disciplined, it is, auxiliary to law. You would have had an unoppressive, but a product- ive revenue. You would have had a flourishing commerce to feed it. You would have had a free Constitution, a potent monarchy, a disciplined ar- my, a reformed and venerated clergy, a mitigated, but spirited nobility, to lead your virtue, not to overlay it ; you would have had a liberal order of commons, to emulate and to recruit that no- bility ; you would have had a protected, satisfied, laborious, and obedient people, taught to seek and to recognize the happiness that is to be found by virtue in all conditions ; in which consists the true moral equality of mankind, and not in that mon- strous fiction, which, by inspiring false ideas and vain expectations into men destined to travel in the obscure walk of laborious life, serves only to aggravate and imbitter that real inequality which it never can remove, and which the order of civil life establishes as much for the benefit of those whom it must leave in a humble state, as those whom it is able to exalt to a condition more splendid, but not more happy. You had a smooth and easy career of felicity and glory laid open to you, beyond any thing recorded in the history of the world ; but you have shown that difficulty is good for man. Compute your gains ; see what is got by those extravagant and presumptuous specula- tions which have taught your leaders to despise all their predecessors, and all their contempora- ries, and even to despise themselves, until the moment in which they became truly despicable. By following those false lights, France has bought undisguised calamities at a higher price than any nation has purchased the most unequivocal bless- ings ! France has bought poverty by crime ! France has not sacrificed her virtue to her in- terest, but she has abandoned her interest, that she might prostitute her virtue. All other na- tions have begun the fabric of a new govern- ment, or the reformation of an old, by establish- ing originally, or by enforcing with greater ex- actness, some rites or other of religion. All other people have laid the foundations of civil freedom in severer manners, and a system of a more austere and masculine morality. France, when she let loose the reins of regal authority, doubled the license of a ferocious dissoluteness in manners, and of an insolent irreligion in opin- ions and practices, and has extended through all ranks of life, as if she were communicating some privilege, or laying open some secluded benefit, all the unhappy corruptions that usually were the disease of wealth and power. This is one of the new principles of equality in France. France, by the perfidy of her leaders, has ut- terly disgraced the tone of lenient council in the cabinets of princes, and disarmed it of its most potent topics. She has sanctified the dark, sus- picious maxims of tyrannous distrust, and taught kings to tremble at (what will hereafter be called) the delusive plausibilities of moral politicians. Sovereigns will consider those who advise them to place an unlimited confidence in their people, as subverters of their thrones ; as traitors who aim at their destruction, by leading their easy good nature, under specious pretenses, to admit combinations of bold and faithless men into a participation of their power. This alone (if there were nothing else) is an irreparable ca- lamity to you and to mankind. Remember that your Parliament of Paris told your king that, in calling the states together, he had noth- ing to fear but the pi'odigal excess of their zeal in providing for the support of the throne. It is right that these men should hide their heads. It is right that they should bear their part in the ruin which their counsel has brought on their Sovereign and their country. Such sanguine declarations tend to lull authority asleep ; to encourage it rashly to engage in perilous ad- ventures of untried policy, to neglect those pro- visions, preparations, and precautions which dis- 1 tinguish benevolence from imbecility, and with- out which no man can answer for the salutary efTcet of any abstract plan of government or of freedom. For want of these, they have seen the medicine of the state corrupted into its poison. They have seen the French rebel against a mild EXTRACTS. 365 and lawful monarch, with more fury, outrage, and insult, than ever any people has been known to rise against the most illegal usurper or the most sanguinary tyrant. Their resistance was made to concession ; their revolt was from pro- tection ; their blow was aimed at a hand holding out graces, favors, and immunities. This was unnatural. The rest is in order. They have found their punishment in their suc- cess. Laws overturned ; tribunals subverted ; industry without vigor ; commerce expiring ; the revenue unpaid, yet the people impover- ished ; a church pillaged, and a state not re- lieved ; civil and military anarchy made the constitution of the kingdom ; every thing human and divine sacrificed to the idol of public credit, and national bankruptcy the consequence ; and, to crown all, the paper securities of new, preca- rious, tottering power, the discredited paper se- curities of impoverished fraud, and beggared rapine, held out as a currency for the support of an empire, in lieu of the two great recognized species that represent the lasting conventional credit of mankind, which disappeared and hid themselves in the earth from v.'hence they came, when the principle of property, whose creatures and representatives they are, was systematically subverted. Were all these dreadful things necessary ? Were they the inevitable results of the despe- rate struggle of determined patriots, compelled to wade thi'ough blood and tumult to the quiet shore of a tranquil and prosperous liberty ? No ! nothing like it. The fresh ruins of France, which shock our feelings wherever we can turn our eyes, are not the devastation of civil war ; they are the sad but instructive monuments of rash and igno- rant counsel in time of pi'ofound peace. They are the display of inconsiderate and presumptuous, be- cause unresisted and irresistible authority. The persons who have thus squandered away the pre- cious treasure of their crimes, the persons who have made this prodigal and wild waste of pub- lic evils (the last stake reserved for the ultimate ransom of the state), have met in their progress with little, or rather with no opposition at all. Their whole march was more like a triumphal procession than the progress of a w^ar. Their pioneers have gone before them, and demolished and laid every thing level at their feet. Not one drop of their blood have they shed in the cause of the country they have ruined. They have made no sacrifice to their projects of greater consequence than their shoe-buckles, w^hile they were imprisoning their king, murdering their fel- low-citizens, and bathing in tears, and plunging in poverty and distress, thousands of worthy men and worthy families. Their cruelty has not even been the base result of fear. It has been the ef- fect of their sense of perfect safety in authorizing treasons, robberies, rapes, assassinations, slaugh- ters, and burnings, throughout their harassed land ; but the cause of all was plain from the beginning. Seizure of the King and Queen of France. History will record, that on the morning of the 6th of October, 1789, the King and Queen of France, after a day of confusion, alarm, dis- may, and slaughter, lay down, under the pledged security of public faith, to indulge nature in a few hours of respite and troubled melancholy repose. From this sleep the Queen was first startled by the voice of the sentinel at her door, who cried out to her to save herself by flight — that this was the last proof of fidelity he could give — that they were upon him, and he was dead. Instantly he was cut down. A band of cruel ruffians and assassins, reeking with his blood, rushed into the chamber of the Queen, and pierced, with a hundred strokes of bayonets and poniai'ds, the bed from whence this perse- cuted woman had but just time to fly almost na- ked, and, through ways unknown to the murder- ers, had escaped to seek refuge at the feet of a King and husband not secure of his own life for a moment. This King, to say no more of him, and this Queen, and their infant children (who once would have been the pride and hope of a great and generous people) were then forced to abandon the sanctuary of the most splendid palace in the world, which they left swimming in blood, pol- luted by massacre, and strewed with scattered limbs and mutilated carcases. Thence they were conducted into the capital of their king- dom. Two had been selected from the unpro- voked, unresisted, promiscuous slaughter, which was made of the gentlemen of birth and family who composed the King's body-guard. These two gentlemen, wath all the parade of an execu- tion of justice, were cinielly and publicly dragged to the block, and beheaded in the great court of the palace. Their heads were stuck upon spears, and led the procession ; while the royal captives who followed in the train were slowly moved along, amid the horrid yells, and thrilling screams, and frantic dances, and infamous con- tumelies, and all the unutterable abominations of the furies of hell, in the abused shape of the vilest of women. After they had been made to taste, drop by drop, more than the bitterness of death, in the slow torture of a journey of twelve miles, protracted to six houi's, they were, under a guard composed of those very soldiers who had thus conducted them through this famous triumph, lodged in one of the old palaces of Paris, now converted into a Bastiie for kings. The Queen of France and the Spirit of Chivalry. I hear, and I rejoice to hear, that the great lady, the other object of the triumph, has borne that day (one is interested that beings made for suffering should suffer well), and that she bears all the succeeding days — that she bears the im- prisonment of her husband, and her own captiv- ity, and the exile of her friends, and the insult- ing adulation of addresses, and the whole weiuhl 366 MR. BURKE. of her accumulated wrongs, with a serene pa- tience, in a manner suited to her rank and race, and becoming the oflspring of a sovereign dis- tinguished for her piety and her courage ; that, like her, she has lofty sentiments ; that she feels with the dignity of a Roman matron ; that in the last extremity she will save herself from the last disgrace ; and that, if she must fall, she will fall b}^ no ignoble hand. It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles ; and surely never lighted on this orb. which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. 1 saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in, glittering like the morning star, full of life, and splendor, and joy. Oh ! what a i-evolution ! and what a heart must I have, to contemplate, without motion, that elevation and that fall ! Little did I dream, when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp anti- dote against disgrace concealed in that bosom ;^ little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gal- lant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cav- aliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her w^ith insult.^ But the age of chivalry is gone ; that of sophisters, econ- omists, and calculators has succeeded ; and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever. Nev- er, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude it- self, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The un- bought grace of life, the cheap defense of na- tions, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise is gone ! It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound, w^hich inspired courage while it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil by losing all its grossness."* 2 The "sharp antidote against disgrace" here mentioned Avas a das:ger, which, it was then re- ported, the duecn carried in her bosom, with a view to end her life if any indignities should be offered her. See London Chris. Obs., vol. vi., p. 67. The report, however, proved to be incorrect. ^ This image may have been suggested by the fol- lowing lines of Milton's Paradise Lost, book i., line GG4, which are correspondent in thought, though not coincident in expression : He spake ; and, to confirm his words, out flew MillloHfi ofjlnming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty cherubim. * It is hardly necessary to i-emark on the wide extent of reading and reflection involved in these three sentences. The whole history of the Middle Ages must have flashed across the mind of Mr. Burke as he wrote — the division of Europe into feudal dependencies, creating a "cheap defense of nations," in bodies of armed inon always ready at a moment's call, without expense to the sovereign This mixed S3-stem of opinion and sentiment had its origin in the ancient chivalry ; and the principle, though varied in its appearance by the varying state of human affairs, subsisted and in- fluenced through a long succession of genera- tions, even to the time we live in. If it should ever be totally extinguished, the loss, I fear, will be great. It is this which has given its charac- ter to modern Europe. It is this which has dis- tinguished it under all its forms of government, and distinguished it to its advantage from the states of Asia, and, possibly, from those states which flourished in the most brilliant periods of the antique world. It was this which, without confounding ranks, had produced a noble equal- ity, and handed it down through all the grada- tions of social life. It was this opinion which mitigated kings into companions, and raised pri- vate n>en to be fellows with kings. Without force or opposition, it subdued the fierceness of pride and power ; it obliged sovereigns to sub- — the various orders of knights devoted to the serv- ice of the Monarch, and the honor and protection of the Fair, producing " that generous loyalty to rank and sex. that proud submission, that dignified obe- dience," which formed so peculiarly the spirit of chivalry. Individual instances would, no doubt, be present to his imagination, of men like Bayard, and hundreds of others, whose whole life was made up of "high thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy." It is here that we find the true type of Mr. Burke's genius, rather than in the brilliant imagery with which the paragraph commences. When Mr. Burke speaks of vice as having "lost half its evil by losing all its grossness," he obvious- ly refers not to the personal guilt of the man, but to the injurious effects he produces on society. Even in this sense, he would hardl}' have laid down so sweep- ing a proposition, except from the influence of one-sid- ed views in a moment of excited feeling and imagin- ation. Vice, in the higher classes, when connected with grace and refinement of manners, is certainly less offensive to taste, but it is more insidious and se- ductive. It is, in addition to this, a mere system of hypocrisy, for vice is degrading in its nature ; and the covering of polish and refinement thrown over it is intended simply to deceive. Genuine faith and moral princii)le must die out under such a system; and we see how it was that French society became reduced to that terrible condition described by Mr. Gouverneur Morris, in a passage already quoted for another purpose. " There is one fatal principle which pervades all ranks ; it is a perfect indiffer- ence to the violation of engagements. Inconstancy is so mingled in the blood, marrow, and very es- sence of this people, that, when a man of high rank and importance laughs to-day at what he seriously asserted yesterday, it is considered the natural or- der of things." How could it be otherwise, among a people who had taken it as a maxim that " man- ners are morals ?" Such a maxim Mr. Burke would have rejected with horror ; but his own remark is capable of being so understood, or, at least, so ap- plied, as to give a seeming countenance to this cor- rupt sentiment. History, on which he so much re- lied, aftbrds the completest testimony, that the ruin of states which have attained to a liigh degree of civilization has almost uniformly resulted from the polished corruption of the higher classes, and not from the "grossness" of the lower. EXTRACTS. 367 mit to the soft collar of social esteem ; compelled stera authorit}' to submit to elegance ; and gave a domination vanquisher of laws, to be subdued by manners. Political Influence of Established Opin- ions. When ancient opinions and rules of life are taken away, the loss can not possibly be esti- mated. From that moment we have no com- pass to govern us ; nor can we know distinctly to what port we steer. Europe, undoubtedly, taken in a mass, was in a flourishing condition the day on which your revolution was complet- ed. How much of that prosperous state was owing to the spirit of our old manners and opin- ions is not easy to say ; but as such causes can not be indifferent in their operation, we must presume that, on the whole, their operation was beneficial. We are but too apt to consider things in the state in which w^e find them, without sufficiently adverting to the causes by which they have been produced, and, possibly, may be upheld. Noth- ing is more certain, than that our manners, our civilization, and all the good things which are connected with manners and with civilization, have, in this European world of ours, depended for ages upon two principles, and were indeed the result of both combined ; I mean the spirit of a gentleman, and the spirit of religion. The nobility and the clergy, the one by profession, the other by patronage, kept learning in exist- ence even in the midst of arms and confusions, and while governments were rather in their causes than formed. Learning paid back what it received to nobility and to priesthood ; and paid it with usury, by enlarging their ideas, and by furnishing their, minds. Happy if they had all continued to know their indissoluble union, and their proper place ! Happy if learning, not de- bauched by ambition, had been satisfied to con- tinue the instructor, and not aspired to be the master ! Along wnth its natural protectors and guardians, learning will be cast into the mire, and trodden down under the hoofs of a swinish multitude.'' If, as I suspect, modern letters owe more than they are always willing to own to ancient man- ners, so do other interests which we value fully as much as they are worth. Even commerce, and trade, and manufacture, the gods of our ^ See the fate of Bailly and Condorcet, supposed to be here particularly alluded to. Compare the circumstances of the trial and execution of the for- mer with this prediction. Mr. Burke has been accused, without the slight- est reason, of here applying the phrase "swinish multitude" to the lower class of society in general, as a distinctive appellation. The language was ob- viously suggested by the scriptural direction, " Cast not you pearls before swine." Bailly and Condor- cet did this, and experienced the natural consequen- ces ; and Mr. Burke says that such will always be the case, that "learning will be trodden under the hoofs of a (not the) swinish multitude." economical politicians, are themselves, perhaps, but creatures ; are themselves but effects, which, as first causes, we choose to worship. They cer- tainly grew under the same shade in which learning flourished. They too may decay with their natural protecting principles. With you, for the present at least, they all threaten to dis- appear together. Where trade and manufac- tures ai-e wanting to a people, and the spirit of nobility and religion remains, sentiment supplies, and not always ill-supplies their place : but if commerce and, the arts should be lost in an ex- periment to try how well a state may stand with- out the.se old fundamental principles, what sort of a thing must be a nation of gross, stupid, fe- rocious, and, at the same time, poor and sordid barbarians, destitute of religion, honor, or manly pride, possessing nothing at present, and hoping for nothing hereafter ? Views of the English Nation. When I assert any thing as concerning the people of England I speak from observation, not from authority ; but I speak from the experience I have had in a pretty extensive and mixed com- munication with the inhabitants of this kingdom, of all descriptions and ranks, and after a course of attentive observation, begun in early life, and continued for near forty years. I have often been astonished, considering that w^e are divided from you but by a slender dike of about twenty-four miles, and that the mutual intercourse between the two countries has lately been very great, to find how little you seem to know of us. I sus- pect that this is owing to your forming a judg- ment of this nation from certain publications, which do very erroneously, if they do at all, rep- resent the opinions and dispositions generally prevalent in England. The vanity, restlessness, petulence, and spirit of intrigue of several petty cabals, who attempt to hide their total want of consequence in bustle, and noise, and puffing, and mutual quotation of each other, makes you imagine that our contemptuous neglect of their abilities is a general mark of acquiescence in their opinions. No such thing, I assure you. Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring \x\i\\ their importunate chink, while thousands of great cattle, reposed beneath the shadow of the British oak, chew the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that those who make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field ; that, of course, they are many in number • or that, after all, they are other than the little, shriveled, meager, hopping, though loud and troublesome insects of the hour. I almost venture to affirm, that not one in a hundred among us participates in the "triumph" of the revolution society. If the King and Queen of France and their children were to fall into our hands by the chance of war, in the most acrimo- nious of all hostilities (I deprecate such an event, I deprecate such hostility), they would be treat- ed with another sort of triumphal entry into Lon don. We formerly have had a king of Franco MR. BURKE. in that situation ; you have read how he was treated by the victor in the field ; and in what manner he was afterward received in England. Four hundred years have gone over us ; but I believe we are not materially changed since that period. Thanks to our sullen resistance to inno- vation : thanks to the cold sluggishness of our national character, we still bear the stamp of our forefathers. We have not (as I conceive) lost the generosity and dignity of thinking of the fourteenth century ; nor, as yet, have we subtil- ized ourselves into savages. We are not the converts of Rousseau ; we are not the disciples of Voltaire ; Helvetius has made no progress among us. Atheists are not our preachers ; mad- men are not our lawgivers. We knov>^ that we have made no discoveries ; and we think that no discoveries are to be made in morality ; nor many in the great principles of government, nor in the ideas of liberty, which were understood long before we were born, altogether as well as they will be after the grave has heaped its mold upon our presumption, and the silent tomb shall have imposed its law on our pert loquacity. In England we have not yet been completely emboweled of our natural entrails ; we still feel within us, and we cherish and cultivate those inbred sentiments which are the faithful guard- ians, the active monitors of our duty, the true supporters of all liberal and manly morals. We have not been drawn and trussed in order that we may be filled, like stuffed birds in a museum, with chaff", and rags, and paltry blurred shreds of paper about the rights of man. We preserve the whole of our feelings, still native and entire, unsophisticated by pedantry and infidelity. We have real hearts of flesh and blood beating in our bosoms. We fear God ; we look up with awe to kings ; with affection to Parliaments ; with duty to magistrates ; with reverence to priests ; and with respect to nobility. Why ? Because, wiien such ideas are brought before our minds, it is natural to be so affected ; be- cause all other feelings are false and spurious, and tend to corrupt our minds, to vitiate our pri- mary morals, to render us unfit for rat:onal lib- erty ; and by teaching us a servile, licentious, and abandoned insolence, to be our low sport for a few holidays, to make us perfectly fit for, and justly deserving of slavery through the whole course of our lives. You see, sir, that in this enlightened age I am bold enough to confess that we are generally men of untaught feelings ; that instead of cast- ing away all our old prejudices, we cheri.sh them to a very considerable degree, and, to take more shame to ourselves, we cherish them because they are prejudices ; and the longer they have lasted, and the more generally they have pre- vailed, the more we cherish them. We are afraid to put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason ; because we sus- pect that the stock in each man is small, and that the individuals would do better to avail themselves of the general bank and capital of nations and of ages. Many of our men of spec- ulation, instead of exploding general prejudices, employ their sagacity to discover the latent wis- dom which prevails in them. If they find what they seek, and they seldom fail, they think it more wise to continue the prejudice, with the reason involved, than to cast away the coat of prejudice, and to leave nothing but the naked reason ; because prejudice, with its reason, has a motive to give action to that reason, and an affection which will give it permanence. Preju- dice is of ready application in the emergency ; it previously engages the mind in a steady course of wisdom and virtue, and does not leave the man, hesitating in the moment of decision, skep- tical, puzzled, and unresolved. Prejudice ren- ders a man's virtue his habit, and not a series of unconnected acts. Through just prejudice^ his duty becomes a part of his nature. Theory of the English Constitution. You will observe that, from Magna Charta to the Declaration of Right, it has been the uniform policy of our Constitution to claim and assert our liberties, as an entailed inheritance derived to us from our forefathers, and to be transmitted to our posterity, as an estate specially belonging to the people of this kingdom, without any refer- ence whatever to any other more general or prior right. By this means our Constitution preserves a unity in so great a diversity of its parts. We have an inheritable Crown, an inheritable peer- age, and a House of Commons and a people in- heriting privileges, franchises, and liberties, from a long line of ancestors. The policy appears to me to be the result of profound reflection, or, rather, the happy effect of following nature, which is wisdom without reflection, and above it. A spirit of innovation is generally the result of a selfish temper and confined views. People will not look forward to posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors. Besides, the people of England well know that the idea of inheritance furnishes a sure principle of conservation, and a sure prin- ciple of ti-ansmission, without at all excluding a principle of improvement. It leaves acquisition free ; but it secures what it acquires. What- ever advantages are obtained by a state pro- ceeding on these maxims are locked fast as in a sort of family settlement ; grasped as in a kind of mortmain, forever. By a constitutional poli- cy, working after the pattern of nature, we re- ceive, we hold, we transmit, our government and our privileges, in the same manner in which we enjoy and transmit our property and our lives. The institutions of policy, the goods of fortune, the gifts of Providence, are handed down, to us and from us, in the same course and order. Our political system is placed in a just correspond- ence and symmetry with the order of the world, and with the mode of existence decreed to a per- manent body composed of transitory parts, where- in, by the disposition of a stupendous wisdom, molding together the great mysterious incorpo- ration of the human race, the whole, at one time. EXTRACTS. is never old, or middle-aged, or young, but, in a condition of unchangeable constancy, moves on through the varied tenor of perpetual decay, fall, renovation, and progression. Thus, by preserv- ing the method of nature in the conduct of the state, in what we improve, we are never wholly new ; in what we retain, we are never wholly obsolete. By adhering in this manner, and on those principles, to our forefathers, we are guid- ed not by the superstition of antiquarians, but by the spirit of philosophic analogy. In this choice of inheritance we have given to our frame of pol- ity the image of a relation in blood ; binding up the Constitution of our country with our dearest domestic ties ; adopting our fundamental laws into the bosom of our family afTections ; keeping inseparable, and cherishing with the warmth of all their combined and mutually reflected chari- ties, our state, our hearths, our sepulchres, and our altars. Through the same plan of a conformity to na- ture in our artificial institutions, and by calling in the aid of her unerring and powerful instincts, to fortify the fallible and feeble contrivances of our reason, we have derived several other, and those no small benefits, from considering our lib- erties in the light of an inheritance. Always acting as if in the presence of canonized fore- fathers, the spirit of freedom, leading in itself to misrule and excess, is tempered with an awful gravity. This idea of a liberal descent inspires us with a sense of habitual, native dignity, which prevents that upstart insolence almost inevitably adhering to and disgracing those who are the first acquirers of any distinction. By this means our liberty becomes a noble freedom. It carries an imposing and majestic aspect. It has a pedigree and illustrating ancestors. It has its bearings and its ensigns armorial. It has its gallery of por- traits, its monumental inscriptions, its records, evidences, and titles. We procure reverence to our civil institutions, on the principle upon which nature teaches us to revere individual men ; on account of their age, and on account of those from whom they are descended. All your soph- isters can not produce any thing better adapted to presei've a rational and manly freedom than the course that we have pursued, who have chosen our nature rather than cur speculations, our breasts rather than our inventions, for the great conservatories and magazines of our rights and privileges. Degrading Influence of Low Views in Politics. When men of rank sacrifice all ideas of dig- nity to an ambition without a distinct object, and work with low instruments and for low ends, the whole composition becomes low and base. Does not something like this now appear in France? Does it not produce something igno- ble and inglorious ? a kind of meanness in all the prevalent policy ? a tendency in all that is done to lower, along with individuals, all the dignity and importance of the state ? Other revolutions A A have been conducted by persons, who, while they attempted or effected changes in the common- wealth, sanctified their ambition by advancing the dignity of the people whose peace they troubled. They had long views. They aimed at the rule, not at the destruction of their coun- try. They were men of great civil and great military talents, and if the terror, the ornament of their age. They were not like Jew brokers contending with each other who could best rem- edy with fraudulent circulation and depreciated paper the wretchedness and ruin brought on their country by their degenerate councils. The com- pliment made to one of the great bad men of the old stamp (Cromwell) by his kinsman, a favorite poet of that time, shows what it was he proposed, and what, indeed, to a great degree, he accom- plished in the success of his ambition. "Still as you rise, the state exalted too, Finds no distemper while 'tis changed by you ; Changed like the world's great scene, when, with- out noise, The rising sun night's vulgar lights destroys." These disturbers were not so much like men usurping power, as asserting their natural place in society. Their rising was to illuminate and beautify the world. Their conquest over their competitors was by outshining them. The hand that, like a destroying angel, smote the country, communicated to it the force and energy under which it suffered. I do not say (God forbid) 1 do not say that the virtues of such men were to be taken as a balance to their crimes, but they were some corrective to their effects. Such was, as I said, our Cromwell. Such were your whole race of Guises, Condes, and Colignis. Such the Richelieus, who in more quiet times acted in the spirit of a civil war. Such, as bet- ter men, and in a less dubious cause, were your Henry the Fourth and your Sully, though nursed in civil confusions, and not wholly without some of their taint. It is a thing to be wondered at to see how very soon France, when she had a moment to respire, recovered and emerged from the longest and most dreadful civil war that ever was known in any nation. Why ? be- cause, among all their massacres, they had not slain the mind in their country. A conscious dignity, a noble pride, a generous sense of glory and emulation, was not extinguished. On the contrary, it was kindled and inflamed. The ox-- gans, also, of the state, however shattered, exist- ed. All the prizes of honor and virtue, all the rewards, all the distinctions remained. But your present confusion, like a palsy, has attacked the fountain of life itself. Every person in your country, in a situation to be actuated by a prin- ciple of honor, is disgraced and degraded, and can entertain no sensation of life except in a mortified and humiliated indignation. True Theory of the Rights of Man. Far am I from denying in theory ; full as far is my heart from withholding in practice (if I were of power to give or to withhold) the rea. 370 MR. BURKE. rights of men. In denying their false claims of right, I do not mean to injure those which are real, and are such as their pretended rights would totally destroy. If civil society be made for the advantage of man, all the advantages for which it is made become his right. It is an in- stitution of beneficence ; and law itself is only beneficence acting by a rule. Men have a right to live by that rule ; they have a right to do jus- tice, as between their fellows, whether their fel- lows are in politic function or in ordinary oc- cupation. They have a right to the fruits of their industry, and to the means of making their industry fruitful. They have a right to the ac- quisitions of their parents ; to the nourishment and improvement of their offspring ; to instruc- tion in life, and to consolation in death. What- ever each man can separately do, without tres- passing upon others, he has a right to do for himself; and he has a right to a fair portion of all which society, with all its combinations of skill and force, can do in his favor. In this part- nership all men have equal rights, but not to equal things. He that has but live shillings in the partnership has as good a right to it as he that has five hundred pounds has to his larger proportion ; but he has not a right to an equal dividend in the product of the joint stock : and as to the share of power, authority, and direc- tion which each individual ought to have in the management of the state, that I must deny to be among the direct, original rights of man in civil society ; for I have in my contemplation the civil, social man, and no other. It is a thing to be settled by convention. If civil society be the offspring of convention, that convention must be its law. That conven- tion must limit and modify all the descriptions of constitution which are formed under it. Ev- ery sort of legislative, judicial, or executory power, are its creatures. They can have no being in any other state of things ; and how can any man claim, under the conventions of civil society, rights which do not so much as suppose its existence ? rights which are absolutely re- pugnant to it? One of the first motives to civil society, and which becomes one of its funda- mental rules, is, that no man should be judge in his own cause. By this each person has at once divested himself of the first fundamental riirht of uncovenanted man ; that is, to judge for himself, and to assert his own cause. He abdicates all right to be his own governor. He inclusively, in a great measure, abandons the right of self- defense, the first law of nature. Men can not enjoy the rights of an uncivil and of a civil state together. That he may obtain ju.stice, he gives up his right of determining what it is in points the most essential to him. That he may secure some liberty, he makes a surrender in trust of the whole of it. Government is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do exist in total inde- pendence of it, and exist in much greater clear- ness, and in a much greater degree of abstract perfection ; but their abstract perfection is their practical defect. By having a right to every thing they want every thing. Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to provide for hu- man wants. Men have a right that these wants should be provided for by this wisdom. Among these wants is to be reckoned the want, out of civil society, of a sufficient restraint upon their passions. Society requires not only that the passions of individuals should be subjected, but that even in the mass and body, as well as in the individuals, the inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted, their will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection. This can only be done by a power out of themselves, and not, in the exercise of its function, subject to that will and to those passions which it is its office to bridle and subdue. In this sense, the restraints on men, as well as their liberties, are to be reckoned among their rights: but as the liberties and the restrictions vary with times and circumstances, and admit of infinite modifica- tions, they can not be settled upon any abstract rule, and nothing is so foolish as to discuss them upon that principle. The moment you abate any thing from the full rights of men each to govern himself and suffer any artificial, positive limitation upon those rights, from that moment the whole organization of gov- ernment becomes a consideration of convenience. This it is which makes the Constitution of a state, and the due distribution of its powers, a matter of the most delicate and complicated skill. It re- quires a deep knowledge of human nature and human necessities, and of the things which fa- cilitate or obstruct the various ends which are to be pursued by the mechanism of civil insti- tutions. The state is to have recruits to its strength, and remedies to its distempers. What is the use of discussing a man's abstract right to food or medicine? The question is upon the method of procuring and administering them. In that deliberation I shall always advise to <-all in the aid of the former and the physician rather than the professor of metaphysics. The science of constructing a cotrmionwonlih. or renovating it, or reforming it, is. like every other experimental science, not to be taught n priori. Nor is it a short experience thiit can instruct us in that practical science, because the real effects of moral causes are not aKvay>= im- mediate, but that which in the first instance is prejudicial may be excellent in its remoter oper- ation, and its excellence may arise even from the ill effects it produces in the beginning. The reverse also happens; and very plausible schemes, with very pleasing commencements, have nften shameful and lamentable conclusions. In states there are often some obscure and almost latent causes, things which appear at first view of little moment, on which a very great part of its pros- perity or adversity may most essentially depend. The science of government being, therefore, so practical in itself, and intended for such pracftical purposes — a matter which requires experience, and even more experience than any person can gain in his whole life, however sagacious and EXTRACTS. 371 observing he may be — it is with infinite caution that any man oiinht to venture upon pulling down an edifice which has answered in any tol- erable degree, for ages, the common purposes of society, or on building it up again, without hav- ing models and patterns of approved utility be- fore his eyes. True Statesmanship. The true lawgiver ought to have a heart full of sensibility. He ought to love and respect his kind, and to fear himself. It may be allowed to his temperament to catch his ultimate object wnth an intuitive glance, but his movements to- ward it ought to be deliberate. Political ar- rangement, as it is a work for social ends, is to be only wrought by social means. There mind must conspire with mind. Time is required to produce that union of minds which alone can produce all the good we aim at. Our patience will achieve more than our force. If I might ventui-e to appeal to what is so much out of fashion in Paris, I mean to experience, I should teil you that in ray course I have known, and, according to m}'' measure, have co-operated with great men ; and I have never yet seen any plan which has not been mended by the observations of those who were much inferior in understanding to the person who took the lead in the business. By a slow but w-ell-sustained progress the effect of each step is watched ; the good or ill success of the first gives light to us in the second ; and so, from light to light, we are conducted with safety through the whole series. We see that the parts of the system do not clash. The evils latent in the most promising contriv- ances are provided for as the}' arise. One ad- vantage is as little as possible sacrificed to anoth- er. We compensate, we reconcile, we balance. We are enabled to unite into a consistent whole the various anomalies and contending principles that are found in the minds and affiiirs of men. From hence arises not an excellence in simplic- ity, but one far superior, an excellence in com- position. Where the great interests of mankind are concerned through a long succession of gen- erations, that succession ought to be admitted into some share in the councils which are so deeply to affect them. If justice requires this, the work itself requires the aid of more minds than one age can furnish. It is from this view of things that the best legislators have been often satisfied with the establishment of some sure, solid, and ruling principle in government ; a power like that which some of the philosophers have called a plastic nature ; and having fixed the pi-inciple, they have left it afterward to its own operation. The State consecrated in the Hearts of THE People. To avoid, therefore, the evils of inconstancy and versatility, ten thousand times w-orse than those of obstinacy and the blindest prejudice, we have consecrated the state, that no man should approach to look into its defects or corru]itions but with due caution ; that he should never dream of beginning its reformation by its sub- version ; that he should approach to the faults of the state as to the wounds of a father, with pious awe and trembling solicitude. By this wise prejudice we are taught to look with hor- ror on those children of their country who are prompt rashly to hack that aged parent in pieces, and put him into the kettle of magicians, in hopes that, by their poisonous weeds and wild incantations, they may regenerate the paternal constitution, and renovate their lather's life. Society is, indeed, a contract. Subordinate contracts for objects of mere occasional interest may be dissolved at pleasure ; but the state ought not to be considered as nothing better than a jiart- nership agreement in a trade of pepper and coffee, calico or tobacco, or some other such low concern, to be taken up for a little temporary interest, and to be dissolved by the fancy of the parties. It is to be looked on with other reverence, because it is not a partnership in things subservient only to the gross animal existence of a temporary and perishable nature. It is a partnership in all sci- ence ; a partnership in all art ; a partnership in every virtue, and in all perfection. As the end.s of such a partnership can not be obtained in many generations, it becomes a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born. Each contract of each particular state is but a clause in the great primeval contract of eternal society, linking the lower with the higher natures, connecting the visible and invisible world, according to a fixed compact sanctioned by the inviolable oath which holds all physical and all moral natures each in their appointed place. This law is not subject to the will of those who, by an obligation above them, and infinitely superior, are bound to sub- mit their will to that law. The municipal cor- porations of that universal kingdom are not mor- ally at liberty at their pleasure, and on their spec- ulations of a contingent improvement, wholly to separate and tear asunder the bands of their sub- ordinate community, and to dissolve it into an un- social, uncivil, unconnected chaos of elemonlary principles. It is the first and supreme necessity only, a necessity that is not chosen, but chooses 5 a necessity paramount to deliberation, that ad- mits no discussion and demands no evidence, which alone can justify a resort to anarchy. This necessity is no exception to the rule, be- cause this necessity itself is a part, too, of that moral and physical disposition of things to which man must i)e obedient by consent of force ; but if that which is only submission to necessity should be made the olyect of choice, the law is broken, nature is disobeyed, and the rebellious are outlawed, cast forth, and exiled from this world of reason, and order, and peace, and vir- tue, and fruitful penitence, into the emtagonist world of madness, discord, vice, confusion, and unavailinjr sorrow. 372 MR. BURKE. These, my dear sir, are, were, and I think long will be, the sentiments of not the least learned and reflecting part of this kingdom. They who are included in this description form their opin- ions on such grounds as such persons ought to form them. The less inquiring receive them from an authority which those whom Providence dooms to live on trust need not be ashamed to rely on. These two sorts of men move in the same direction, though in a different place. They both move with the order of the universe. They all know or feel this great ancient truth : " Quod illi principi et prsepotenti Deo qui om- nem hunc mundum regit, nihil eorum quae qui- dem fiant in terris acceptius quam concilia et caetus hominum jure sociati quae civitates appel- lantur."^ They take this tenet of the head and heart not from the great name which it imme- diately bears, nor from the greater from whence it is derived, but from that which alone can give true weight and sanction to any learned opinion, the common nature and common relation of men. Persuaded that all things ought to be done with reference, and referring all to the point of refer- ence to which all should be directed, they think themselves bound, not only as individuals, in the sanctuary of the heart, or as congregated in that personal capacity, to renew the memory of their high origin and cast, but also in their corporate character, to perform their national homage to the Institutor, and Author and Protector of civil society ; without which civil society man could not by any possibility arrive at the perfection of which his nature is capable, nor even make a re- mote and faint approach to it. They conceive that He who gave our nature to be perfected by our virtue, willed also the necessary means of its perfection. He willed, therefore, the state. He willed its connection with the source and orig- inal archetype of all perfection. They who are convinced of this His will, which is the law of laws, and the sovereign of sovereigns, can not think it reprehensible that this our corporate fealty and homage, that this our recognition of a seigniory paramount, I had almost said this ob- lation of the state itself, as a worthy offering on the high altar of universal praise, should be per- formed as all public solemn acts are performed, in buildings, in music, in decorations, in speech, in the dignity of persons, according to the cus- toms of mankind, taught by their nature ! that is, with modest splendor, with unassuming state, with mild majesty, and sober pomp. For those purposes they think some part of the wealth of the country is as usefully employed as it can be in fomenting the luxury of individuals. It is the public ornament. It is the public consolation. It nourishes the public hope. The poorest man finds his own importance and dignity in it, while the wealth and pride of individuals at every mo- ment makes the man of humble rank and fortune sensible of his inferiority, and degrades and vili- * That nothing is more acceptable to the All-pow- erful Being who rules the world than those councils of men under the authority of law, which bear the name of states. — Somnium Scipionis, sect. iii. fies his condition. It is for the man in humble life, and to raise his nature, and to put him in mind of a state in which the privileges of opu- lence will cease, when he will be equal by na- ture, and may be more than equal by virtue, that this portion of the general wealth of his country is employed and sanctified. The English people are also satisfied that to the great the consolations of religion are as nec- essary as its instructions. They, too, are among the unhappy. They feel personal pain and do- mestic sorrow. In these they have no privi- lege, but are subject to pay their full contingent to the contributions levied on mortality. They want this sovereign balm under their gnawing cares and anxieties, which, being less conversant about the limited wants of animal life, range with- out limit, and are diversified by infinite combina- tions in the wild and unbounded regions of im- agination. Some charitable dole is wanting to these, our often very unhappy brethren, to fill the gloomy void that reigns in minds which have nothing on earth to hope or fear ; something to relieve in the killing languor and over-labored lassitude of those who have nothing to do; something to excite an appetite to existence in the palled satiety which attends on all pleasures which may be bought, where nature is not left to her own process, where even desire is antici- pated, and even fruition defeated by meditated schemes and contrivances of delight, and no in- terval, no obstacle is interposed between the wish and the accomplishment. The Revolutionary Government of France. Out of the tomb of the murdered monarchy in France has arisen a vast, tremendous, unformed specter, in a far more terrific guise than any which ever yet have overpowered the imagina- tion and subdued the fortitude of man. Going straightforward to its end, unappalled by peril, unchecked by remorse, despising all common maxims and all common means, that hideous phantom overpowered those who could not be- lieve it was possible she could at all exist. * ^ The republic of regicide, with an annihilated revenue, with defaced manufactures, with a ru- ined commerce, with an uncultivated and half- depopulated country, with a discontented, dis- tressed, enslaved, and famished people, passing with a rapid, eccentric, incalculable course, from the wildest anarchy to the sternest despot- ism, has actually conquered the finest parts of Europe, has distressed, disunited, deranged, and broke to pieces all the rest. What now stands as government in France is struck at a heat. The design is wicked, im- moral, impious, oppressive, but it is spirited and daring ; it is sy.stematic ; it is simple in its prin- ciple ; it has vmity and consistency in perfection. In that country, entirely to cut off a branch of commerce, to extinguish a manufacture, to de- stroy the circulation of money, to violate credit, to suspend the course of agriculture, even to burn a city or to lay waste a province of their EXTRACTS. 373 \ own, does not cost them a moment's anxiet}-. To them, the will, the wish, the want, the lib- erty, the toil, the blood of individuals is as noth- ing. Individuality is left out of their scheme of government. The state is all in all. Every thing is referred to the production of force ; aft- erward, every thing is trusted to the use of it. It is military in its principle, in its maxims, in its spirit, and in all its movements. The state has dominion and conquest for its sole objects ; dominion over minds by proselytism, over bodies by arms. Thus constituted, with an immense body of nat- ural means, which are lessened in their amount only to be increased in their efTect, France has, since the accomplishment of the revolution, a complete unity in its direction. It has destroyed every resource of the state which depends upon opinion and the good wnll of individuals. The riches of convention disappear. The advant- ages of nature in some measure remain ; even these, I admit, are astonishingly lessened ; the command over what remains is complete and absolute. They have found the short cut to the productions of nature, w^hile others in pur- suit of them are obliged to wnnd through the labyrinth of a very intricate state of society. They seize upon the fruit of the labor ; they seize upon the laborer himself. Were France but half of what it is in population, in compactness, in applicability of its force, situated as it is, and being what it is, it would be too strong for most of the states of Europe, constituted as they are, and proceeding as they proceed. Would it be wnse to estimate what the world of Europe, as well as the world of Asia, had to dread from Genghis Khan, upon a contemplation of the re- sources of the cold and barren spot in the remot- est Tartary from whence first issued that scourge of the human race ? Ought we to judge from the excise and stamp duties of the rocks, or from the paper circulation of the sands of Arabia, the power by which Mohammed and his tribes laid hold at once on the two most powerful empires of the world, beat one of them totally to the ground, broke to pieces the other, and, in not much longer space of time than I have lived, overturned governments, laws, manners, relig- ion, and extended an empire from the Indus to the Pyrenees ? Material resources never have supplied, nor ever can supply the w^ant of unity in design and constancy in pursuit ; but unity in design, and * perseverance and boldness in pursuit, have nev- er wanted resources, and never will. We have not considered as we ought the dreadful energy of a state in which the property has nothing to do with the government. Reflect, again and again, on a government in which the property is in complete subjection, and where nothing rules but the mind of desperate men. The con- dition of a commonwealth not governed by its property was a combination of things which the learned and ingenious speculator Harrington, who has tossed about society into all forms, never could imagine to be possible. We have seen it ; and if the world will shut their eyes to this state of things they will feel it more. The rulers there have found their resources in crimes. The discovery is dreadful ; the mine cxhaustless. They have every thing to gain, and they have nothing to lose. They have a boundless inheritance in hope ; and there is no medium for them between the highest elevation and death wuth infamy. Their Treatment of Embassadors from For- eign Powers. To those who do not love to contemplate the fall of human greatness, I do not know a more mortifying spectacle than to see the assembled majesty of the crowned heads of Europe w^aiting as patient suitors in the ante-chamber of regi- cide. They wait, it seems, until the sanguinary tyrant Carnot shall have snorted away the fumes of the indigested blood of his sovereign. Then, when sunk on the down of usurped pomp, he shall have sufficiently indulged his meditation w^ith what monarch he shall next glut his raven- ing maw, he may condescend to signify that it is his pleasure to be awake ; and that he is at leisure to receive the proposals of his high and mighty clients for the terms on which he may respite the execution of the sentence he has pass- ed upon them. At the opening of those doors, what a sight it mu.st be to behold the plenipo- tentiaries of royal impotence, in the precedency which they will intrigue to obtain, and which will be granted to them according to the seniority of their degradation, sneaking into the regicide presence, and with the relics of the smile, w^hich they had dressed up for the levee of their mas- ters, still flickering on their curled lips, present- ing the faded remains of their courtly graces to meet the scornful, ferocious, sardonic grin of a bloody rufiian, who, w^hile he is receiving their homage, is measuring them with his eye, and fit- ting to their size the slider of his guillotine ! Illustration from a Case supposed in En- gland. To illustrate my opinions on this subject, let us suppose a case, which, after what has happen- ed, w^e can not think absolutely impossible, though the augury is to be abominated, and the event deprecated with our most ardent prayers. Let us suppose, then, that our gracious Sovereign was sacrilegiously murdered ; his exemplary Queen, at the head of the matronage of this land, murdered in the same manner ; that those prin- cesses, whose beauty and modest elegance are the ornaments of the country, and who are the leaders and patterns of the ingenuous youth of their sex, were put to a cruel and ignominious death, with hundreds of others, mothers and daughters, ladies of the first distinction ; that the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, prin- ces the hope and pride of the nation, with all their brethren, were forced to fly from the knives of assassins — that the whole body of our excel- 374 Mil. BURKE. lent clerjiy were cither ma.ssacred or robbed of all, and transported — the Christian religion, in all its denominations, forbidden and persecuted — the law, totally, fundamentally, and in all its parts, destroyed — the judges put to death by rev- olutiuiiary tribunals — the peers and commons robbed to the last acre of their estates ; mas- sa< red if they stayed, or obliged to seek life in flight, in exile, and in beggary — that the whole Luided property should share the very same fate — that every military and naval officer of honor and rank, almost to a man, should be placed in tlie same description of confiscation and exile — that the principal merchants and bankers should be drawn out, as from a hen-coop, for slaughter j — that the citizens of oar greatest and most Nour- ishing cities, when the hand and the machinery of the hangman were not found sufficient, should have been collected in the public squares, and massacred by thousands with cannon ; if three hundred thousand others should have been doom- ed to a situation worse than death in noisome and pestilential prisons — in such a case, is it in the faction of robbers I am to look for my coun- try ? Would this be the England that you and I, and even strangers admired, honored, loved, and cherished ? VVould not the exiles of England alone be my government and my fellow-citizens'? Would not their places of refuge be my tempo- rary country ? Would not all my duties and all my affections be there, and there only ? Should I consider myself as a traitor to my country, and deserving of death, if I knocked at the door and heart of every potentate in Christendom to suc- cor my friends, and to avenge them on their en- emies ? Could I, in any way, show myself more a patriot ? What should I think of those poten- tates who insulted their suffering brethren ; who treated them as vagrants, or, at least, as mendi- cants ; and could find no allies, no friends, but in regicide murderers and robbers? What ought I to think and feel if, being geographers instead of kings, they recognized the desolated cities, the wasted fields, and the rivers polluted with blood, of this geometrical measurement, as the honora- ble member of Europe called England ? In that condition, what should we think of Sweden, Den- mark, or Holland, or whatever power afforded us a churlish and treacherous hospitality, if they should invite us to join the standard of our King, our laws, and our religion ; if they should give us a direct promise of protection ; if, after all thi.s, taking advantage of our deplorable situation, which left us no choice, they were to treat us as the lowest and vilest of all mercenaries ? If they were to send us far from the aid of our King and our suffering country, to scpiandcr us away in the most pestilential climates for a venal enlarge- ment of their own territories, for the purpose of trucking them, when obtained, with those very robbers and murderers they had called upon us to oppose with our blood ? What would be our sentiments, if, in that miserable service, we were not to be considered either as English, or as Swcde-s, Dutch, Danes, but as outcasts of the hu- man race ? While we were fighting those bat- tles of their interest, and as their soldiers, how should we feel if we were to be excluded from all their cartels ? How must we feel if the pride and flower of the English nobilitj' and acntrv, who might escape the pestilential clime and the devouring sword, should, if taken prisoners, be delivered over as rebel subjects, to be condemned as rebels, as traitors, as the vilest of all crimin- als, by tribunals formed of Maroon negro slaves, covered over with the blood of their masters, who were made free, and organized into judges for their robberies and murders ? What should we feel \mder this inhuman, insulting, and bar- barous protection of Muscovites, Swedes, or Hol- landers ? Should we not obtest Heaven, and whatever justice there is yet on earth ? Op- pression makes wise men mad: but the distem- per is still the madness of the wise, which is bet- ter than the sobriety of fools. Their cry is the voice of sacred misery, exalted, not into vvild raving, but into the sanctified frenzy of proph- ecy and inspiration — in that bitterness of .soul, in that indignation of suffering virtue, in that ex- altation of despair, would not persecuted En- glish loyalty cry out with an awful warning voice, and denounce the destruction that wai*,s on monarchs, who consider fidelity to them as the most degrading of all vices ; who suflfer it to be punished as the most abominable of all crimes; and who have no respect but for reb- els, traitors, regicides, and furious negro slaves, whose crimes have broke their chains? Would not this warm language of high indignation have more of sound reason in it, more of real affection, more of true attachment, than all the lullabies of flatterers, who would hush monarchs to sleep in the arms of death ? Conduct ExrECXED from Mr. Pjtt when THE French broke off Negotiations for Peace in 1797. After such an elaborate display had been made of the injustice and insolence of an enemy, who seems to have been irritated by every one of iho means which had been commonly used with ef- fect to soothe the rage of intemperate power, the natural result would be, that the scabbard, in which we in vain attempted to plunge our sword, should have been thrown away with scorn. It would have been natural, that, rising in the full- ness of their might, insulted majesty, despised dignity, violated justice, rejected supplication, patience goaded into fury, would have poured out all the length of the reins upon all the wrath which they had so long restrained.''' It might ^ This passage was probably suggested by Vir- gil's description of Neptune, as seated in bis chariot, and controlling bis impatient steeds (book v., line 818), till willing at last to give full course to their swiftness, manibusque omnes efFundit habenas. He pours forth all the reins from out his hands. In like manner, the attributes here personified, "insulted majesty," "despised dignity," &c., '-pour out all the length of the reins upon all the wrath EXTRACTS. 375 have been expected, that, emulous of the glory of the j'outhful hero [the Austrian Archduke Charles] in alliance with him, touched by the example of what one man, well formed and well placed, may do in the most desperate state of atliiirs, convinced there is a courage of the cab- inet full as powerful, and far less vulgar than that of the field, our minister would have changed the whole line of that unprosperous prudence, which hitherto had produced all the efiects of the blind- est temerity. If he found his situation full of danger (and I do not deny that it is perilous in the extreme), he must feel that it is also full of glory ; and that he is placed on a stage, than which no muse of fire that had ascended the highest heaven of invention could imagine any thing more awful and august.^ It was hoped that, in the swelling .scene in which he moved, with some of the first potentates of Europe for his fellow-actors, and with so many of the rest for the anxious spectators of a part, which, as he plays it, determines forever their destiny and his own, like Ulysses, in the unraveling point of the epic story, he would have thrown oif his pa- tience and his rags together ; and, stripped of unworthy di-sguises, he would have stood forth in the form and in the attitude of a hero.^ On that day, it was thought he would have assumed the port of Mars ; that he would bid to be brought which they had so long restrained." We have few iinag-es in our language of equal force and beauty. ^ See the prologue to Shakspeare's Henry V.: Oh for a Muse of Fire that would ascend The highest heaven of invention ! ' The scene referred to is that near the close of the twenty-first book of the Odyssey, where Ulysses, who had appeared disguised as a beggar among the suitors of Penelope, finding that none of them could bend his bow, takes it in hand himself amid the jeers of all, strings it with the ease of a lyre, and sends the arrow whizzing through the rings which had been suspended as a mark. But when the wary hero wise Had made his hand familiar with the bow, Poising it, and examining — at once — As when, in harp and song adept, a bard Strings a new lyre, extending, first, the chords, He knits them to the frame, at either end, "With promptest ease ; with such Ulysses strung His own huge bow, and with his right hand trill'd The nerve, which, in its quick vibration, sang As with a swallow's voice. Then anguish turn'd The suitors pale ; and in that moment Jove Gave him his rolling thunder for a sign. Such most propitious notice from the son Of wily Saturn, bearing with delight, He seized a shaft which at the table side Lay ready drawn ; but in his quiver's womb The rest yet slept, though destined soon to steep Their points in Grecian blood. He lodged the reed Full on the bow-string, drew the parted head Home to his breast, and aiming as he sat. At once dismissed it. Through the num'rous rings Swift flew the gliding steel, and, issuing, sped Beyond them. — Coicpcr. He then pours out the arrows at his feet, and turns bis bow on the suitors till they are all de- stroyed. forth from their hideous kennel (where his scru- pulous tenderness had too long immured them) those impatient dogs of war, whose fierce re- gards afi'right even the minister of vengeance that feeds them ; that he would let them loose, in famine, fever, plagues, and death upon a guilty race, to whose frame, and to all whose habit, order, peace, religion, and virtue are alien and abhorrent. '° It was expected that he would at last have thought of active and eflfectual war .; that he would no longer amuse the British lion in the chase of mice and rats ; that he would no longer employ the whole naval power of Great Britain, once the terror of the world, to prey upon the miserable remains of a peddling com- merce, which the enemy did not regard, and from which none could profit. It was expected that he would have reasserted whatever remained to him of his allies, and endeavored to recover those whom their fears had .'ed astray ; that he would have rekindled the martial ardor of his citizens ; that he would have held out to them the example of their ancestry, the assertor of Europe, and the scourge of French ambition; that he would have reminded them of a posterity which, if this nefarious robbery, under the fraud- ulent name and false color of a government, should in full power be seated in the heart of Europe, must forever be consigned to vice, im- piety, barbarism, and the most ignominious slav- ery of body and mind. In so holy a cause it was presumed that he would (as in the begin- ning of the war he did) have opened all the tem- ples ; and with prayer, with fasting, and with supplication (better directed than to the grim Moloch of regicide in France), have called upon us to raise that united cry, which has so often stormed Heaven, and with a pious violence forced down blessings upon a repentant people. It was hoped that, when he had invoked upon his endeavors the favorable regard of the Pro- tector of the human race, it would be seen that his menaces to the enemy and his pi-ayers to the Almighty were not followed, but accompa- nied, with correspondent action. It was hoped that his shrilling trumpet should be heard, not to announce a show, but to sound a charge. Duties of the Higher Cla.sses in carrying ON THE War. In the nature of things it is not with their per- sons that the higher classes principally pay their contingent to the demands of war. There is an- other and not less important part which rests with almost exclusive weight upon them. They fur- nish the means " How war may best upheld, Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, In all her equipage." — Milton's Par. Lost. Not that they are exempt from contributino-, Then should the warlike Harry like himself, Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels, Leasht in like hounds should /awme, sword, and Crouch for employment. ^ [fire, 376 MR. BURKE. also, by their personal service in the fleets and armies of their country. They do contribute, and in their full and fair proportion, according to the relative proportion of their numbers in the community. They contribute all the mind that actuates the whole machine. The forti- tude required of them is ver}'^ different from the unthinking alacrity of the common soldier, or common sailor, in the face of danger and death ; it is not a passion, it is not an impulse, it is not a sentiment ; it is a cool, steady, deliberate prin- ciple, always present, always equable; having no connection with anger; tempering honor with prudence ; incited, invigorated, and sus- tained by a generous love of fame ; informed, moderated, and directed by an enlarged knowl- edge of its own great public ends ; flowing in one blended stream from the opposite sources of the heart and the head ; carrying in itself its own commission, and proving its title to every other command, by the first and most difficult command, that of the bosom in which it resides ; it is a fortitude which unites with the courage of the field the more exalted and refined courage of the council ; which knows as well to retreat as to advance ; which can conquer as well by delay as by the rapidity of a march or the im- petuosity of an attack ; which can be, with Fa- bius, the black cloud that lowers on the tops of the mountains, or with Scipio, the thunderbolt of war ; which, undismayed by false shame, can patiently endure the severest ti'ial that a gallant spirit can undergo, in the taunts and provocations of the enemy, the suspicions, the cold respect, and "mouth honor" of those from whom it should meet a cheerful obedience ; which, undisturbed by false humanity, can calmly assume that most awful moral responsibility of deciding when vic- tory may be too dearly purchased by the loss of a single life, and when the safety and glory of their country may demand the certain sacrifice of thousands. Sentiments beco:ming the Crisis. Nor ai-e sentiments of elevation in themselves turgid and unnatural. Nature is never more truly herself than in her grandest form. The Apollo of Belvidere (if the universal robber has 3'et left him at Belvidere) is as much in nature as any figure from the pencil of Rembrandt, or any clown in the rustic revels of Teniers. In- deed, it is when a great nation is in great diffi- culties that minds must exalt themselves to the occasion, or all is lost. Strong passion, under the direction of a feeble reason, feeds a low fe- ver, which serves only to destroy the body that entertains it. But vehement passion does not always indicate an infirm judgment. It often accompanies, and actuates, and is even auxiliary to a powerful understanding ; and when they both conspii-e and act harmoniously, their force is great to destroy disorder w^ithin, and to repel injury from abroad. If ever there was a time that calls on us for no vulgar conception of things, and for exertions in no vulgar strain, it is the awful hour that Providence has now appointed to this nation. Every little measui-e is a great error ; and every great error will bring on no small ruin. Nothing can be directed above the mark that we must aim at ; every thing below it is absolutely thrown away. tP TV -3v" •'v T? Who knows whether indignation may not suc- ceed to terror, and the revival of high sentiment, spurning away the delusion of a safety purchased at the expense of glory, may not yet drive us to that generous despair, which has often subdued distempers in the state, for which no remedy could be found in the wisest councils ? MISCELLANEOUS. William III. forming the Grand Alliance against Louis XIV. The steps which were taken to compose, to reconcile, to unite, and to discipline all Europe against the growth of France, certainly furnish to a statesman the finest and most interesting part in the history of that great period. It form- ed the master-piece of King William's policy, dexterity, and perseverance. Full of the idea of preserving, not only a local civil liberty unit- ed with order, to our country, but to embody it in the political liberty, the order, and the inde- pendence of nations united under a natural head, the King called upon his Parliament to put itself into a posture "fo preserve to England the weight and influence it at present had on the councils and affairs abroad. It will be requisite Eu- rope should see you will not be wanting to your- selves." Baffled as that monarch was, and almost heart- broken at the disappointment he met with in the mode he first proposed for that great end, he held on his course. He was faithful to his ob- ject ; and in councils, as in arms, over and over again repulsed, over and over again he returned to the charge. All the mortifications he had suflfered from the last Parliament, and the great- er he had to apprehend from that newly chosen, were not capable of relaxing the vigor of his mind. He was in Holland when he combined the vast plan of his foreign negotiations. When he came to open his design to his ministers in England, even the sober firmness of Somers, the undaunted resolution of Shrewsbury, and the ad- venturous spirit of Montague and Orford, were staggered. They were not yet mounted to the elevation of the King. The cabinet (then the regency) met on the subject at Tunbridge Wells the 28th of August, 1698; and there, Lord Som- ers holding the pen, after expressing doubts on the state of the continent, w^hich they ultimately refer to the King, as best informed, they give him a most discouraging portrait of the spirit of this nation. "So far as relates to England," say these ministers, "it would be want of duty EXTRACTS. 377 not to give your majesty this clear account, that there is a deadness and want of spirit in the na- tion universally, so as not to be at all disposed to entering into a new war. That they seem to be tired out with taxes to a degree beyond what was discerned, till it appeared upon occa- sion of the late elections. This is the truth of the fact upon which your majesty will determine what resolution ought to be taken." His majesty did determine, and did take and pursue his resolution. In all the tottering imbe- cility of a new government, and with Parliament totally unmanageable, he persevered. He per- severed to expel the fears of his people by his fortitude — to steady their fickleness by his con- stancy — to expand their narrow prudence by his enlarged wisdom — to sink their factious temper in his public spirit. In spite of his people, he resolved to make them great and glorious ; to make England, inclined to shrink into her narrow self, the arbitress of Europe, the tutelary angel of the human race. In spite of the ministers, who staggered under the weight that his mind imposed upon theirs, unsupported as they felt themselves by the popular spirit, he infused into them his own soul ; he renewed in them their ancient heart; he rallied them in the same cause. It required some time to accomplish this work. The people were first gained, and through them their distracted representatives. Under the in- fluence of King William, Holland had rejected the allurements of every seduction, and had re- sisted the terrors of every menace. With Han- nibal at her gates, she had nobly and magnani- mously refused all separate treaty, or any thing which might for a moment appear to divide her affection or her interest, or even to distinguish her in identity from England. The English House of Commons was more reserved. The principle of the Grand Alliance was not directly recognized in the resolution of the Commons, nor the war announced, though \ they were well aware the alliance was formed for the war. However, compelled by the return- ing sense of the people, they went so far as to fix the three great immovable pillars of the safety and greatness of England, as they were then, as they are now, and as they must ever be to the end of time. They asserted in general terms the necessity of supporting Holland ; of keeping united with our allies ; and maintaining the liberty of Europe ; though they restricted their vote to the succors stipulated by actual treaty. But now they were fairly embarked, they were obliged to go with the course of the vessel ; and the whole nation, split before into an hundred adverse factions, with a king at its head , evidently declining to his tomb, the whole nation — Lords, Commons, and people — proceeded as one body, informed by one soul. Under the Brit- ish union, the union of Europe was consolidated ; and it long held together with a degree of cohe- sion, firmness, and fidelity, not known before or since in any political combination of that extent. Just as the last hand was given to this im- mense and complicated machine, the master- workman died ; but the work was formed on true mechanical principles ; and it was as truly wrought. It went by the impulse it had receiv- ed from the first mover. The man was dead 5 but the Grand Alliance survived, in which King William lived and reigned. That heartless and dispirited people, whom Lord Somers had repre- sented, about two years before, as dead in ener- gy and operation, continued that war, to which it was supposed they were unequal in mind and in means, for near thirteen years. The Duke of Bedford's hold on his Prop- erty.^ The Crown has considered me after long serv- ice, the Crown has paid the Duke of Bedford by advance. He has had a long credit for any services which he may perform hereafter. He is secure, and long may he be secure, in his ad- vance, whether he performs any services or not. But let him take care how he endangers the safety of that Constitution which secures his own utility or his own insignificance ; or how he dis- courages those who take up even puny arms to defend an order of things, which, like the sun of heaven, shines alike on the useful and the worth- less. His grants are ingrafted on the public law of Europe, covered with the awful hoar of innumerable ages. They are guarded by the sacred rules of prescription, found in that full treasury of jurisprudence from which the jejune- ness and penury of our municipal law has, by degrees, been enriched and strengthened. This prescription I had my share (a very full share) in bringing to its perfection.^ The Duke of Bed- ford will stand as long as prescriptive law en- dures ; as long as the great stable laws of prop- erty, common to us with all civilized nations^ are kept in their integrity, and without the small- est intermixture of laws, maxims, principles, or precedents of the grand revolution. They are secure against all changes but one. The whole revolutionary system, institutes, digest, code, novels, text, gloss, comment, are not only not the same, but they are the very reverse, and the reverse, fundamentally, of all the laws on which civil life has hitherto been upheld in all the gov- ernments of the world. The learned pi-ofessors of the rights of man regarded prescription, not as a title to bar all claim, set up against all possession — but they look on prescription as it- self a bar against the possessor and proprietor. They hold an immemorial possession to be no more than a long-continued, and therefore an ag- gravated injustice. Such are their ideas, such their religion; and such their law. But as to our country and our race, as long as the well-compacted structure of our church and state, the sanctuary, the holy of ^ This passage is taken from a letter to a Noble Lord, which was called forth by an insulting attack from the Duke of Bedford when Mr. Burke receiv- ed his pension. 2 Sir George Savile's Act, called the Nullum Tern, pits Act. 378 MR. BURKE. holies of that ancient law, defended by reverence, defended by power, a fortress at once and a tem- ple,^ .shall stand inviolate on the brow of the British Sion — as loner as the British monarchy, not more limited than fenced by the orders of the state, shall, like the proud Keep of Windsor, rising- in the majesty of proportion, and girt with the doable belt of its kindred and coeval towers, as long as this awful structure shall oversee and guard the subjected land — so long the mounds and dikes of the low, fat, Bedford level will have nothing to fear from the pick-axes of all the lev- elers of France. As long as our sovereign lord the King, and his faithful subjects, the lords and commons of this realm — the triple cord, which no man can break; the solemn, sworn, constitu- tional frank-pledge of this nation ; the firm guar- antees of each other's being and each other's rights ; the joint and several .securities, each in its place and order, for every kind and every quality of property and of dignity. As long as these endure, so long the Duke of Bedford is safe ; and we are all safe together — the high from the blights of envy and the spoliations of rapacity ; the low from the iron hand of oppres- sion and the insolent spurn of contempt. Amen ! and so be it, and so it will be, Dum domiis ^neae Capitoli immobile saxum Accolet; imperiumque pater Romauus habebit.* Mr. Burke ox the Death of his Son. Had it pleased God to continue to me the hopes of succession, I should have been, accord- ing to my mediocrity, and the mediocrity of the age I live in, a sort of founder of a family ; 1 should have left a son, who, in all the points in which personal merit can be viewed, in science, in erudition, in genius, in taste, in honor, in gen- erosity, in humanity, in every liberal sentiment, and every liberal accomplishment, would not have shown himself inferior to the Duke of Bed- ford, or to any of those whom he traces in his line. His grace very soon would have v^^anted all plausibility in his attack upon that provision which belonged more to mine than to me. He would soon have supplied every deficiency, and symmetrized every disproportion. It would not have been for that successor to resort to any stagnant wasting reservoir of merit in me, or in any ancestry. He had in himself a salient, liv- ing spring of generous and manly action. Ev- ery day he lived he would have repurchased the bounty of the Crown, and ten times more, if ten times more he had received. He was inadc a public creature, and had no enjoyment whatever but in the performance of some duty. At this exigent moment, the loss of a finished man is not easily supplied. But a Dispo.ser whose power we are little able to resist, and whose wisdom it behooves us not at all to dispute, has ordained it in another man- ner, and (whatever my querulous weakness might suggest) a far better. The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stripped of all my honors ; I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth ! There, and prostrate there, I most un- feignedly recognize the divine justice, and in some degree submit to it. ^ Tcmpliim in modum arcis. Tacitus of the tem- ple of Jerusalem. * While on tlie Capitol's unshaken rock, The ^iieau race shall dwell, and Father Jove Kule o'er the Empire. Virgil's jEneid, book ix., lino 448. i Character of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Last night (February 23, 1792), in the sixty- ninth year of his age, died, at his house in Lei- cester Fields, Sir Joshua Reynolds. His illness was long, but borne with a mild and cheerful fortitude, without the least mixture of any thing irritable or querulous, agreeably to the placid and even tenor of his whole life. He had from the beginning of his malady a distinct view of his dissolution, which he contemplated with that entire composure, that nothing but the innocence, integrity, and usefulness of his life, and an unaffected submission to the will of Prov- idence, could bestow. In this situation he had every consolation from family tenderness, which his own kindness to his family had indeed well deserved. Sir Joshua Reynolds was, on very many ac- counts, one of the most memorable men of his time. He was the fii'st Englishman who added the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country. In taste, in grace, in facility, in happy invention, and in the richness and harmo- ny of coloring, he was equal to the greatest mas- ters of the most renowned ages. In portrait he went beyond them ; for he communicated to that description of the art, in which English art- ists are the most engaged, a variety, a fancy, and a dignity derived from the higher branches, which even those who profes.sed them in a supe- rior manner did not always preserve when they delineated individual nature. His portraits re- mind the spectator of the invention of historj' and the amenity of landscape. In painting por- traits, he appeared not to be raised upon that platform, but to descend upon it from a higher sphere. His paintings illustrate his lessons, and his lessons seem to be derived from his paintings. He possessed the theory as perfectly as the practice of his art. To be such a painter, he was a profound and penetrating philosopher. In full happiness of foreign and domestic fame, admired by the expert in art and by the learned in science, courted by the great, caressed by sovereign powers, and celebrated by distinguish- ed poets, his native humility, modest}', and can- dor never forsook him, even on surprise or prov- ocation ; nor was the least degree of arrogance or assumption visible to the most scrutinizing eye, in any part of his conduct or discourse. His talents of every kind — powerful from na- ture, and not meanly cultivated by letters — his socii\l virtues in all the relations and all the hab- EXTRACTS. 379 itudes of life, rendered him the center of a very great and unparalleled variety of agreeable so- cieties, which will be dissipated by his death. He had too much merit not to excite some jeal- ousy, too much innocence to provoke any enmi- ty. The loss of no man of his time can be felt with more sincere, general, and unmixed sorrow. Hail and Farewell ! DETACHED SENTIMENTS AND MAXIMS. Never was there a jar or discord between gen- uine sentiment and sound policy. Never, no, never, did nature say one thing and wisdom say another. The meditations of the closet have infected senates with a subtle frenzy, and inflamed arm- ies with the brands of the furies. We are alarmed into reflection ; our minds are purified by terror and pity ; our weak, un- thinking pride is humbled under the dispensa- tions of a mysterious wisdom. The road to eminence and powtr, from obscure condition, ought not to be made too easy, nor a thing too much of course. The temple of honor ought to be seated on an eminence. If it be opened through virtue, let it be remembered that virtue is never tried but by some difficulty and some struggle. Public virtue, being of a nature magnificent and splendid, instituted for great things, and con- versant about great concerns, requires abundant scope and room, and can not spread and grow under confinement, and in circumstances strait- ened, narrow, and sordid. All persons possessing any portion of power ought to be strongly and awfully impressed with an idea that they act in trust, and that they are to account for their conduct in that trust to the one great master, author, and founder of society. They who administer in the government of men, in which they stand in the person of God himself, should have high and worthy notions of their function and destination. Their hope should be full of immortality. It is with the greatest difficulty that I attempt to separate policy from justice. Justice is itself the great standing policy of civil society^ and any eminent departure from it, under any circum- stances, lies under the suspicion of being no poli- cy at all. In all mutations (if mutations must be), the circumstance which will serve most to blunt the edge of their mischief, and to promote what good may be in them, is, that they should find us with our minds tenacious of justice., and tender of property. A man, full of warm, speculative benevolence, may wish society otherwise constituted than he finds it ; but a good patriot, and a true politician, always considers how he shall make the most of ^ A few of these sentences have been very slight- ly modified or abridged, in order to give them the character of distinct propositions, bat in no way af- fectins: the sense. the existing materials of his country. A dispo- sition io preserve., and an ability to improve., taken togetHer, would be my standard of a statesman. Every thing else is vulgar in the conception, perilous in the execution. It is one of the excellencies of a method, in which time is among the assistants, that its op- eration is slow, and, in some cases, almost im- perceptible. It can not be too often repeated, line upon line, precept upon precept, until it comes into the currency of a proverb, to innovate is not to reform. It is the degenerate fondness for taking short cuts^ and little fallacious facilities, that has in so many parts of the world created governments with arbitrary powers. Rage and frenzy will pull down more in half an hour, than prudence, deliberation, and fore- sight can build up in a hundred years. I shall always consider that liberty as very equivocal in her appearance, wdiich has not wis- dom and justice for her companions, and does not lead prosperity and plenty in her train. What is liberty without wisdom and without virtue ? It is the greatest of all possible evils ; for it is folly, vice, and madness, without tuition or restraint. The strong struggle in every individual tu pre- serve possession of what he has found to belong to him and to distinguish him, is one of the secu- rities against injustice and despotism implanted in our nature. It operates as an instinct to se- cure property, and to preserve communities in a settled state. What is there to shock in this ? Nobility is a graceful ornament to the civil order. It is the Corinthian capital of polished society. It is a sour, malignant, envious disposition, without taste for the reality, or for any image or representation of virtue, that sees with joy the unmerited fall of what had long flourished in splendor and in honor. The perennial existence of bodies corporate and their fortunes, are things particularly suited to a man who has long views ; who meditates designs that require time in fashioning, and which propose duration when they are accomplished. None can aspire to act greatly, but those who are of force greatly to suffer. Strong instances of self-denial operate power- fully on our minds; and a man who has no wants has obtained great freedom and firmness, and even dignitv. — 380 MR. BURKE. Difficulty is a severe insti-uctor, set over us by the supreme ordinance of a parental guardian and legislator, who knows us better than we know ourselves, as he loves us better too. Pater ipse colendi Haud facilem esse viam voluit.2 He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. It has been the glory of the great masters in all the arts to confront and to overcome ; and when they have overcome the first difficulty, to turn it into an instrument for new conquests over new difficulties. Hypocrisy delights in the most sublime specu- lations ; for, never intending to go beyond spec- ulation, it costs nothing to have it magnificent. Men who are too much confined to profes- sional and faculty habits, and, as it were, invet- erate in the recurrent emploj^ment of that nar- row circle, are rather disabled than qualified for whatever depends on the knowledge of mankind, on experience in mixed affairs, on a comprehen- sive, connected view of the various complicated external and internal interests which go to the formation of that multifarious thing called a state. ^ Turbulent, discontented men of quality, in proportion as they are puflTed up with personal pride and arrogance, generally despise their own order. The great must submit to the dominion of prudence and of virtue, or none will long submit to the dominion of the great. Living law, full of reason, and of equity and justice (as it is, or it should not exist), ought to be severe and awful too ; or the words of men- ace, whether written on the parchment roll of England, or cut into the brazen tablet of Rome, will excite nothing but contempt. Men and states, to be secure, must be respect- ed. Power, and eminence, and consideration, are things not to be begged. They must be commanded ; and those who supplicate for mercy from others, can never hope for justice through themselves. The blood of man should never be shed but to redeem the blood of man. It is well shed for our family, for our friends, for our God, for our country, for our kind. The rest is vanity; the rest is crime. In a conflict between nations, that state which is resolved to hazard its existence rather than to abandon its objects, must have an infinite advant- age over that which is resolved to yield rather than to carry its resistance beyond a certain point. 2 The Father of our race himself decrees That culture shall be hard. Virgil's Georgics, i., 121. 3 See, also, on this subject, the sketch of Mr. George Grenville's character, page 251. It is often impossible, in political inquiries, to find any proportion between the apparent force of any moral causes we may assign, and their known operation. Some states, at the very mo- ment when they seemed plunged in unfathoma- ble abysses of disgrace and disaster, have sudden- ly emerged ; they have begun a new course and opened a new reckoning ; and even in the depths of their calamity, and on the very ruins of the country, have laid the foundations of a towering and durable greatness. There is a courageous wisdom : there is also a false, reptile prudence, the result, not of caution, but of fear. The eye of the mind is dazzled and vanquished. An abject distrust of ourselves, an extravagant admiration of the enemy, present us with no hope but in a compromise with his pride, by a submission to his will. Parsimony is not economy. Expense, and great expense, may be an essential part in true economy, which is a distributive virtue, and con- sists not in saving, but in selection. Parsimony requires no providence, no sagacity, no powers of combination, no comparison, no judgment. Mere instinct, and that not an instinct of the noblest kind, may produce this false economy in perfection. The other economy has larger views. It demands a discriminating judgment, and a firm, sagacious mind. If wealth is the obedient and laborious slave of virtue and of public honor, then wealth is in its place, and has its use. If we command our wealth, we shall be rich and free ; if our wealth commands us, we are poor indeed. No sound ought to be heard in the church but the healing voice of Christian charity. Those who quit their proper character to assume what does not belong to them, are, for the greater part, ignorant both of the character they leave and of the character they assume. They have nothing of politics but the passions they excite. Surely the church is a place where one day's truce ought to be allowed to the dissensions and animosities of mankind. Steady, independent minds, when they have an object of so serious a concern to mankind as gov- ernment under their contemplation, will disdain to assume the part of satirists and declaimers. Those persons who creep into the hearts of most people, who are chosen as the companions of their softer hour's, and their reliefs from care and anxiety, are never persons of shining quali- ties or strong virtues. It is rather the soft green of the soul on which we rest our eyes that are fatigued with beholding more glaring objects. When pleasure is over, we relapse into indif- ference, or, rather, we fall into a soft tranquillity, which is tinged with the agreeable color of the for- mer sensation. Nothing tends so much to the corruption of sci- ence as to suflfer it to stagnate : these loaters must he troubled bfore they can exert their virtues. EXTRACTS. 381 It is better to cherish virtue and humanity by leaving much to free will, even vv^ith some loss to the object, than to attempt to make men mere machines and instruments of a political benevo- lence. The world, on the whole, will gain by a liberty without which virtue can not exist. The dignity of every occupation wholly de- pends upon the quantity and the kind of virtue that may be exerted in it The degree of estimation in which any pro- fession is held becomes the standard of the esti- mation in which the professors hold themselves. It is generally in the season of prosperity that men discover their real temper, principles, and designs. Nothing but the possession of some power can, with any certainty, discover what at the bot- tom is the true character of any man. All men that are ruined, are ruined on the side of their natural propensities. Good men do not suspect that their destruc- tion is attempted through their virtues. True humility is the low, but deep and firm foundation of all real virtue. While shame keeps its watch, virtue is not wholly extinguished in the heart, nor will mod- eration be utterly exiled from the minds of ty- rants. The punishment of real tyrants is a noble and awful act of justice ; and it has with truth been said to be consolatory to the human mind. The arguments of tyranny are as contempti- ble as its force is dreadful. Wisdom is not the most severe corrector of folly. The love of lucre, though sometimes carried to a ridiculous, sometimes to a vicious excess, is the grand cause of prosperity to all states. Good order is the foundation of all good things. Whoever uses instruments, in finding helps, finds also impediments. It is ordained, in the eternal constitution of things, that men of intemperate minds can not be free. Their passions forge their fetters. Some persons, by hating vices too much, come to love men too little. There are some follies which baffle argument, which go beyond ridicule, and which excite no feeling in us but disgust. Men are as much blinded by the extremes of misery as by the extremes of prosperity. Des- perate situations produce desperate councils and desperate measures. They who always labor can have no true judgment. They never give themselves time to cool. They can never plan the future by the past. Men who have an interest to pursue are ex- tremely sagacious in discovering the true seat of power. In all bodies, those who will lead must also, in a considerable degree, follow. The virtues and vices of men in large towns are sociable ; they are always in garrison ; and they come embodied and half disciplined into the hands of those who mean to form them for civil or military action. The elevation of mind, to be derived from fear, will never make a nation glorious. The vice of the ancient democracies, and one cause of their ruin, was, that they ruled by occa- sional decrees (psephismata), which broke in upon the tenor and consistency of the laws. Those who execute public pecuniary trusts, ought, of all men, to be the most strictly held to their duty. Nothing turns out to be so oppressive and un- just as a feeble government. HENRY GRATTAN. Henry Grattan was born at Dublin on the third day of July, 1746. His father was an eminent barrister, and acted for many years as recorder of that city, which he also represented for a time in the Parliament of Ireland. In the year 1763, young Grattan entered Trinity College, Dublin, where he was distinguished for the brilliancy of his imagination and the impetuosity of his feelings. Having graduated in 1767, with an honorable reputation, he repaired to London, and became a member of the Middle Temple. His mind, however, was at first too exclu- sively occupied with literary pursuits to allow of his devoting much time to the study of the law. Politics next engaged his attention. The eloquence of Lord Chatham drew him as an eager listener to the debates in Parliament, and acted with such fas- cination upon his mind as seemed completely to form his destiny. Every thing was forgotten in the one great object of cultivating his powers as a public speaker. To emulate and express, though in the peculiar forms of his own genius, the lofty concep- tions of the great English orator, was from this time the object of his continual study and most fervent aspirations. In 1772 he returned to Ireland, where he Avas admitted to the bar ; and in 1775 he became a member of the Irish Parliament, under the auspices of Lord Charlemont. He, of course, joined the ranks of Opposition, and united at once with Mr. Flood and the leading patriots of the day, in their endeavors to extort from the English minister the grant of free trade for Ireland. The peculiar circumstances of the country fa- vored their design. The corps of Irish Volunteers had sprung into existence upon the alarm of invasion from France, and was marshaled throughout the country, to the number of nearly fifty thousand, for the defense of the island. With a semblance of some connection with the government, it was really an army unauthorized by the laws, and commanded by officers of their own choosing. Such a force could obvi- ously be turned, at any moment, against the English ; and, seizing on the advantage thus gained, Mr. Grattan, in 1779, made a motion, which was afterward changed into a direct resolution, that " nothing but a free trade could save the country from ruin." It was passed with enthusiasm by the great body of the House ; and the nation, with arms in their hands, echoed the resolution as the watch-Avord of their liberties. Lord North and his government were at once terrified into submission. They had tampered with the subject, exciting hopes and expectations only to disap- point them, until a rebellion in Ireland was about to be added to a rebellion in America. In the emphatic words of Mr. Burke, " a sudden light broke in upon us all. It broke in, not through well-contrived and \\x41-disposed windows, but through flaws and breaches — through the yawning cliasms of our ruin." Every thing they asked was freely granted ; and Ireland, as the English minister imagined, was pro- pitiated. But Mr. Grattan had already fixed his eye on a higher object — the complete inde- pendence of the Irish Parliament. By an act of the sixth year of George the First, it was declared that Ireland was a subordinate and dependent kingdom ; that the Kings, Lords, and Commons of England had power to make laws to bind Ireland ; that tlie Irish House of Lords had no jurisdiction, and that all proceedings before that court were void. This arbitrary act Mr. Grattan now determined to set aside. He HENRY GRATTAN. 383 availed himself of tlie enthusiasm which pervaded the nation, and, reminding- them that the concessions just made might be recalled at any moment, if England contin- ued to bind Ireland by her enactments, he urged them to a Declaration of Right, denying the claim of the British Parliament to make laws for Ireland. His friends endeavored to dissuade him from bringing the subject before the Irish Parliament ; but the voice of the nation was with him, and on the 19th of April, 1780, he made his memorable motion for a Declaration of Irish Right. His speech on that occasion, which is the first in this selection, " was the most splendid piece of eloquence that had ever been heard in Ireland." As a specimen of condensed and fervent argu- mentation, it indicates a high order of talent ; while in brilliancy of style, pungency of application, and impassioned vehemence of spirit, it has rarely, if ever, been sur- passed. The conclusion, especially, is one of the most magnificent passages in our eloquence. Mr. Grattan's motion did not then pass, but he was hailed throughout Ireland as the destined deliverer of his country. No Irishman had ever enjoyed such unbounded popularity. He animated his countrymen with the hope of ultimate success ; he in- spired them with his own imaginative and romantic spirit, and awakened among them a feeling of nationality such as had never before existed. He taught them to cherish Irish affections, Irish manners, Irish art, Irish literature ; and endeavored, in short, to make them a distinct people from the English in every respect but one, that of being governed by the same sovereign. Nothing could be more gratifying to the enthusiastic spirit of that ardent and impulsive race ; and though it was im- possible that such a plan should succeed, he certainly stamped his own character, in no ordinary degree, on the mind of the nation. That peculiar kind of eloquence, especially, which prevails among his countrymen, though springing, undoubtedly, from the peculiarities of national temperament, was rendered doubly popular by the brilliant success of Mr. Grattan, who presents the moist perfect exhibition of the highly-colored and impassioned style of speaking in which the Irish delight, with but few of its faults, or, rather, for the most part, with faults in the opposite direction. With this ascendency over the minds of the people, Mr. Grattan spent nearly two years in preparing for the next decisive step. The Volunteers held their famous meet- ing at Dungannon in February, 1782, and passed unanimously a resolution drawn up by Mr. Grattan, that " a claim of any body of men, other than the Khig, Lords, and CoriuTions of Ireland, to make laws to bind this kingdom, is unconstitutional, illegal, and a grievance." This resolution was virtually a declaration of Mar in case the act of Parliament complained of, was not repealed. It was adopted throughout the country, not merely by shouting thousands at mass meetings, but by armed reg- iments of citizens and owners of the soil, and by grand juries at judicial assizes. The administration of Lord North was now tottering to its fall. The avowed fi-iends of Ireland, Lord Rockingham, Lord Sbelburne, and Mr. Fox, took his place in March, 1782 ; and Mr. Grattan determined at once to try the sincerity of their feelings. He therefore gave notice that, on the 16th of the ensuing April, he should repeat his motion, in the Irish House of Commons, for a Declaration of Irish Right. It was a trying moment for the new Whig administration. To concede at such a time, when the Irish stood with arms in their hands, was to lay England at their feet. Mr. Fox, therefore, seconded by Burke, Sheridan, Sir Philip Francis, Colonel Barre, and other distinguished Irishmen, pleaded for delay. Lord Charlemont brought the message to the bedside of Mr. Grattan, who was confined by a severe illness, and received for reply, " No time ! No time ! The Irish leaders are pledged to the people ; they can not postpone the question ; it is 'pvhlic iiroiierty'' When the day arrived, Mr. Grattan, to the surprise of all who knew his debilitated state, made his appearance in the House, and delivered a speech, the second one in these extracts, 384 HENRY GRATTAN. which won universal admiration for its boldness, sublimity, and compass of thought. Lord Charlemont remarked afterward, in speaking of this eflbrt, and of Mr. Grattan's weakness of health when he came forward, that " if ever spirit could be said to act independent of body, it was on that occasion." It was in vain for the friends of the minister to resist. The resolutions were carried almost by acclamation. Mr. Fox, when he heard the result, decided instantly to yield, declaring that he would rather see Ireland wholly separated from the crown of England than held in subjection by force. He, therefore, soon after brought in a bill for repealing the act of the sixth of George First. As an expression of their gratitude for these services, the Parliament of Ireland voted the sum of £100,000 to purchase Mr. G rattan an estate. His feelings led him, at first, to decline the grant ; but, as his patrimony was inadequate to his sup- port in the new position he occupied, he was induced, by the interposition of his friends, to accept one half the amount. Mr. Flood had been greatly chagrined at the ascendency gained by Mr. Grattan, and he now endeavored to depreciate his efforts by contending that the " simple re- peal" of the act of the sixth of George First was of no real avail ; that the English Parliament must pass a distinct act, renouncing all claim to make law for Ireland. Every one now sees that the pretense was a ridiculous one ; but he succeeded in confusing and agitating the minds of the people on this point, until he robbed Mr. Grattan, to a considerable extent, of the honor of his victory. He came out, at last, into open hostility, stigmatizing him as " a mendicant ■^Oiixioi, subsisting on the public accounts — who, bought by his country for a sum of money, had sold his country for prompt payment." Mr. Grattan instantly replied in a withering piece of invective, to be found below, depicting the character and political life of his opponent, and ingeniously darkening every shade that rested on his reputation. As most of the extracts in this selection are taken from the early speeches of Mr. Grattan, it will be unnecessary any farther to trace his history. Suffice it to say, that, although he lost his popularity at times, through the influence of circumstances or the arts of his enemies, he devoted himself throughout life to the defense of his country's interests. He was vehemently opposed to the union with England ; but his countrymen were so much divided that it was impossible for any one to prevent it. At a later period (1805), he became a member of the Parliament of Great Britain, where he uniformly maintained those principles of toleration and popular government which he had supported in Ireland. He was an ardent champion of Catholic Eman- cipation, and may be said to have died in the cause. He had undertaken, in 1820, to present the Catholic Petition, and support it in Parliament, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his medical attendants, who declared it would be at the hazard of his life. "I should be happy," said he, "to die in the discharge of my duty." Exhausted by the journey, he did die almost immediately after his arrival in Lon- don, May 14th, 1820, at the age of seventy, and was buried, with the hfghest honors of the nation, in Westminster Abbey. His character was irreproachable ; and Sir James Mackintosh remarked, in speaking of his death in the House of Commons, " He was as eminent in his observance of all the duties of private life, as he was heroic in the discharge of his public ones." " I never knew a man," said Wilberforce, " whose patriotism and love for his country seemed so completely to extinguish all private interests, and to induce him to look invariably and exclusively to the public good." The personal appearance and delivery of Mr. Grattan are brought vividly before us in one of the lively sketches of Charles Philhps. " He was short in stature, and unprepossessing in appearance. His arms were disproportionately long. His walk was a stride. "With a person swinging like a pendulum, and an abstracted air, he HENRY GRATTAN. 385 seemed always in thought, and each thought provoked an attendant gesticulation. How strange it is, that a mind so replete with grace, and symmetry, and power, and splendor, should have been allotted such a dwelling for its residence ! Yet so it was ; and so, also, was it one of his highest attributes that his genius, by its ' excessive light,' blinded his hearers to his physical imperfections. It was the victory of mind over matter." " The chief difficulty in this great speaker's way was the first five minutes. During his exordium laughter was imminent. He bent his body almost to the ground, swung his arms over his head, up, and down, and around him, and added to the gro- tesqueness of his manner a hesitating tone and drawling emphasis. Still, there was an earnestness about him that at first besought, and, as he warmed, enforced, nay, commanded attention." The speeches of Mr. Grattan afford unequivocal proof, not only of a powerful intellect, but of high and original genius. There was nothing commonplace in his thoughts, his images, or his sentiments. Every thing came fresh from his mind, with the vividness of a new creation. His most striking characteristic was, con- densation' and rapidity of thought. " Semper instans sibi," pressing continually upon himself, he never dwelt upon an idea, however important ; he rarely presented it under more than one aspect ; he hardly cA'er stopped to fill out the intermediate steps of his argument. His forte was reasoning, but it was " logic on fire ;" and he seemed ever to delight in flashing his ideas on the mind with a sudden, startling- abruptness. Hence, a distinguished writer has spoken of his eloquence as a " com- bination oi cloud, tvhirUvhid, and^ame" — a striking representation of the occasional obscurity and the rapid force and brilliancy of his style. But his incessant effort to be strong made him sometimes unnatural. He seems to be continually straining after effect. He wanted that calmness and self-possession which mark the highest order of minds, and show their consciousness of great strength. "Wlien he had mas- tered his subject, his subject mastered him. His great efforts have too much the air of harangues. They sound more like the battle speeches of Tacitus than the orations of Demosthenes. His style was elaborated with great care. It abounds in metaphors, which are always striking, and often grand. It is full of antithesis and epigrammatic turns, which give it uncommon point and brilliancy, but have too often an appearance of labor and affectation. His language is select. His periods are easy and fluent — made up of short clauses, with but few or brief qualifications, all uniting in the expres- sion of some one leading thought. His rhythmus is often uncommonly fine. In the peroration of liis great speech of April 19th, 17S0, we have one of the best specimens in our language of that admirable adaptation of the sound to the sense which distin- guished the ancient orators. Though Mr. Grattan is not a safe model in every respect, there are certain pur- poses for which his speeches may be studied with great advantage. Nothing can be better suited to break up a dull monotony of style — to give raciness and point — to teach a young speaker the value of that terse and expressive language which is, to the orator especially, the finest instrument of thought. Bb SPEECH OF MR. GRATTAN IN THE IRISH HOUSE OF CO.ALMONS IN MOVING A DECLARATION OF IRISH RIGHT, DELIVERED APRIL 19, 1780. INTRODUCTION. Ireland had been treated by the English, for three centuries, like a conquered nation. A Parliament had indeed been granted her, but a well-known statute, called Poynings' Act, had so abridged the rights of that Parliament, as to render it almost entirely dependent on the English Crown. By the provisions of this act, which was passed in 1494, through the agency of Sir Edward Poynings, then Lord Deputy of Ireland, no session of the Irish Parliament could be held without a license previously obtained from the King of England in council, on the recommendation of the Deputy and his council in Ireland. Thus, the EngHsh government had power to prevent the Irish Parliament from ever assembling, except for pur- poses which the King saw reason to approve. At a later period, there was indeed a relaxation of the severity of this act, but the restraints still imposed were borne reluctantly by the Irish, and gave rise at times to violent struggles. Under such an administration, the commercial and manufacturing interests of Ireland were wholly sacrificed to those of the English; the exportation of woolen goods, and of most other articles of English manufacture, and also the direct import of foreign articles, being denied the Irish. These restrictions had been removed in part, as already stated, on the ground of "expediency," by an act of the British Parliament, passed December 13, 1779, under the terror of the Irish Volunteers; and Mr. Grattan, with the same instrument of compulsion in his hands, now moved the Irish Parliament to a Declaration of Right, which should deny the authority of England to make laws for Ireland — an au- thority asserted by an act of the British Parliament, passed in the sixth year of George I. SPEECH, &c. I have entreated an attendance on this day. that you might, in the most public manner, deny the claim of the British Parliament to make law for Ireland, and with one voice lift up your hands against it. If I had lived when the ninth of William took Duty of resist- away the woolen manufacture, or i"f moment""" whcn the sixth of George the First possible. took away your Constitution, I should have made a covenant with my own conscience, to seize the first reasonable moment of rescuing my country from the ignominy of such acts of power ; or, if I had a son, I should have admin- istered to him an oath that he would consider himself as a person separate and set apart for the discharge of so important a duty. Upon the same principle am I now come to move a Declaration of Right, the first moment occurring in my time, in which such a declara- tion could be made with any chance of success, and without an aggravation of oppression. Sir, it must appear to every person that, not- The commer- withstanding the import of sugar, and eionriToTsat- cxport of woolcns,* thc pcoplc of this iBfactory. country are not satisfied ; something remains — the greater work is behind — the pub- lic heart is not well at ease. To promulgate our satisfaction, to stop the throats of millions with the votes of Parliament, to preach homilies to the Volunteers, to utter invectives against the peo- ple under the pretense of afiectionate advice, is an attempt, weak, suspicious and inflammatory. ^ These were a part of the concession made by Lord North. You can not dictate to those whose sense you are instructed to represent. Your ancestors, who sat within these walls, lost to Ireland trade and liberty. You, by the assistance of the people, have recovered trade. You owe the kingdom a constitution ; she calls I upon you to restore it. I The ground of public discontent seems to be, i "We have gotten commerce, but not freedom." j The same power which took away the export j of woolen and the export of glass, may take them I away again. The repeal is partial, and the ground of repeal is a principle of expediency. Sir, expedient is a word of appropriated and tyrannical import — expedient is a word case of ire- selected to express the reservation of 'f"^ '*"'' °^ authority, while the exercise is mitigat- compared. od — expedient is the ill-omened expression in the repeal of the American Stamp Act. En- gland thought it " expedient" to repeal that law. Happy had it been for mankind if, when she withdrew the exercise, she had not reserved the right. To that reservation she owes the loss of her American empire, at the expense of millions; and America the seeking of liberty through a scene of bloodshed. The repeal of the Woolen Act, similarly circumstanced, pointed against the principle of our liberty, may be a subject for il- luminations to a populace, or a preten.se for apos- tacy to a courtier, but can not be a subject of settled satisfaction to a free born, an intelligent and an injured community. It is, therefore, they [the people of Ireland] consider the free trade as a trade de facto, not de jure — a license to trade under the Parliament 1780.] MR. GRATTAN ON MOVING A DECLARATION OF IRISH RIGHT. 387 of England, not a free trade under the charter of Ireland — a tribute to her strength, to Free trade not _ _ . granted to Ire- maintain which she must continue m land as a right. n ^ • i i a State ot armed preparation, dread- ing the approach of a general peace, and attrib- uting all she holds dear to the calamitous condi- tion of the British interest in every quarter of the globe. This dissatisfaction, founded upon a consideration of the liberty we have lost, is in- creased when they consider the opportunity they are losing ; for, if this nation, after the death- wound given to her freedom, had fallen on her knees in anguish, and besought the Almighty to frame an occasion in which a weak and injured people might recover their rights, prayer could not have asked, nor God have formed, a moment more opportune for the restoration of liberty, than this in which I have the honor to address you. England now smarts under the lesson of the The situation American war. The doctrine of im- of England en- perial lefjislaturc she feels to be per- ablesthe Irish ^. . ° , , ^ todeniand nicious — the rcvcnucs and monopo- eir rig ts. jj^^ anncxcd to it she found to be un- tenable. Her enemies are a host pouring upon her from all quarters of the earth — her armies are dispersed — the sea is not her's — she has no minister, no ally, no admiral, none in whom she long confides, and no general whom she has not disgraced. The balance of her fate is in the hands of Ireland. You are not only her last connection — you are the only nation in Europe that is not her enemy. Besides, there does, of late, a certain damp and supineness overcast her arms and councils, miraculous as that vigor which has lately inspirited yours. With you every thing is the reverse. Never was there a Parliament in Ireland so possessed of the confidence of the people. You are now the greatest political as- sembly in the world. You are at the head of an immense army ; nor do we only possess an unconquerable force, but a certain unquenchable fire, which has touched all ranks of men like a visitation. Turn to the growth and spring of your country, and behold and admire it ! Where do you find a nation who, upon what- spiritofthe ever concerns the rights of mankind, Irish nation, gxprcsscs hcrsclf with more truth or force, perspicuity or justice — not in the set phrases of the scholiast ; not the tame unreality of the courtier ; not the vulgar raving of the rab- ble ; but the genuine speech of liberty, and the unsophisticated oratory of a free nation. See her military ardor, expressed not in forty thou- sand men conducted by instinct, as they were raised by inspiration, but manifested in the zeal and promptitude of every young member of the growing community. Let corruption tremble ! Let the enemy, foreign or domestic, tremble ! but let the friends of liberty rejoice at these means of safety and this hour of redemption — an enlightened sense of public right, a young ap- petite for freedom, a solid strength, and a rapid fire, which not only put a Declaration of Right within your power, but put it out of your power to decline one ! Eighteen counties are at your bar. There they stand, with the compact of Henry, with the charter of John, and with all the passions of the people ! " Our lives are at your service ; but our liberties — we received them from God, we will not resign them to man!" Speaking to you thus, if you repulse these petitioners, you abdicate the oflace of Par- liament, you forfeit the rights of the kingdom, you repudiate the instructions of your constitu- ent, you belie the sense of your country, you palsy the enthusiasm of the people, and you re- ject that good which not a minister — not a Lord North — not a Lord Buckinghamshire — not a Lord Hillsborough, but a certain providential conjuncture, or, rather, the hand of God, seems to extend to you. I read Lord North's propositions, and I wish to be .satisfied, but I am controlled by a paper (for I will not call it a law) ; it is the sixth of George First. [Here the clerk, at Mr. Grat- tan's i-equest, read from the Act of the sixth of George I., " that the kingdom of Ireland hath been, is, and of I'ight ought to be, subordinate to and dependent upon the Imperial Crown of Great Britain, as being inseparably united to and annexed thereunto ; and that the King's Majes- ty, by and with the consent of the Lords spirit- ual and temporal, and the Commons of Great Britain in Parliament assembled, hath, and of right ought to have, full power and authority to make laws and statutes of sufficient force and validity to bind the kingdom and the people of Ireland.] I will ask the gentlemen of the long robe, is this the law ? I ask them whether it is This act is not the practice ? I appeal to the judges «"f°'^«d. of the land, whether they are not in a course of declaring that the Parliament of England nam- ing Ireland, binds her ? I appeal to the magis- trates of Ireland whether they do not, from time to time, execute certain acts of the British Par- liament ? I appeal to the officers of the army, whether they do not confine and execute their fellow-subjects by virtue of the Mutiny Act of England ? And I appeal to this House whether a country so circumstanced is free ? Where is the freedom of trade ? Where is the security of property ? Where the liberty of the people '? I here, in this Declaratory Act, see my country proclaimed a slave ! I see every man in this House enrolled a bondsman ! I see the judges of the realm, the oracles of the law, borne down by an unauthorized power ! I see the magis- trates prostrate ; and I see Parliament witness to these infringements, and silent ! I therefore say, with the voice of three millions of people, that, notwithstanding the import of sugar, and export of woolen and kerseys, beetle-wood and prunellas, nothing is safe, satisfactory, or honor- able ; nothing, except a Declaration of Right ! What ! Are you, with three millions ^^^ Dedara- of men at your back, with charters in tion therefore one hand and arms in the other, afraid to say, We are a free people ? Are you — the greatest House of Commons that ever sat in Ire- land, that want but this one act to equal that English House of Commons which passed the 388 MR. GRATTAN ON MOVING [1780. Petition of Right, or that other, which passed the Declaration — are you, are you afraid to tell the British Parliament that you are a free peo- ple ? Are the cities and the instructing coun- ties, who have breathed a spirit that would have done honor to old Rome, when Rome did honor to mankind — are they to be free by connivance ? Are the militaiy associations — those bodies whose origin, progress, and deportment have transcended, equaled, at least, any thing in mod- ern or ancient story, in the vast line of North- ern array — are they to be free by connivance ? What man will settle among you ? Who will leave a land of liberty and a settled government for a kingdom, controlled by the Parliament of another country ; whose liberty is a thing by stealth ; whose trade a thing by permission ; whose judges deny her charters ; whose Parlia- ment leaves every thing at random ; where the hope of freedom depends on the chance that the jury shall despise the judge stating a British act, or a rabble stop the magistrate in the exe- cution of it, rescue your abdicated privileges by anarchy and confusion, and save the Constitu- tion by trampling on the government ? But I shall be told that these are groundless Notiiin less jealousics, and that the principal cities, can satisfy and morc than one half the counties of le peop e. ^^^ kingdom, are misguided men, rais- ing those groundless jealousies. Sir, they may say so, and they may hope to dazzle with illu- minations, and they may sicken with addresses, but the public imagination will never rest, nor will her heart be well at ease ; never, so long as the Parliament of England claims or exer- cises legislation over this country. So long as this shall be the case that very free trade (oth- erwise a perpetual attachment) will be the cause of new discontent. It will create a pride and wealth, to make you feel your indignities ; it will furnish you with strength to bite your chain ; the liberty withheld poisons the good communicated. The British minister mistakes the Irish charac- ter. Had he intended to make Ireland a slave, he should have kept her a beggar. There is no middle policy. Win her heart by a restoration of her right, or cut off the nation's right hand ; greatly emancipate, or fundamentally destroy ! We may talk plausibly to England ; but so long as she exercises a power to bind this country, so long are the nations in a state of war. The claims of the one go against the liberty of the other, and the sentiments of the latter go to op- pose those claims to the last drop of her blood. The English Opposition, therefore, are right; mere trade will not .satisfy Ireland. They judge of us by other great nations ; by the English nation, whose whole political life has ])ecn a struggle for liberty. They judge of us with a true knowledge and just deference for our char- acter, that a country enlightened as Ireland, armed as Ireland, and injured as Ireland, will be satisfied with nothing less than liberty. I ad- mire that public-spirited merchant^ who spread 3 Alderman Horan, who offered goods for entry at consternation at the Custom-house, and, despis- ing the example which great men afforded, ten- dered for entry prohibited manufactures, and sought, at his private risk, the liberty of his country. With him, I am convinced, it is nec- essary to agitate the question of right. In vain will you endeavor to keep it back ; the passion is too natural, the sentiment too irresistible ; the question comes on of its own vitality. You must reinstate the laws. There is no objection to this resolution except fears. I have examined your fears ; , I pronounce them to be frivolous. If fear for conse- England is a tyrant, it is you have 'i"^"'^®*- made her so. It is the slave that makes the ty- rant, and then murmurs at the master wiiom he himself has constituted. I do allow, on the sub- ject of commerce, England was jealous in the extreme ; and I do say, it was commercial jeal- ousy ; it was the spirit of monopoly. The wool- en trade and the Act of Navigation had made her tenacious of a comprehensive legislative author- ity, and, having now ceded that monopoly, there is nothing in the way of our liberty except our own corruption and pusillanimity. Nothing can prevent your being free, except yourselves ; it is not in the disposition of England, it is not in the interest of England, it is not in her force. What ! can eight millions of Englishmen, opposed to twenty millions of French, seven millions of Spanish, to three millions of Americans, reject the alliance of three millions in Ireland ? Can eight millions of British men, thus outnumbered by foes, take upon their shoulders the expense of an expedition to enslave Ireland ? Will Great Britain, a wise and magnanimous country, thus tutored by experience and wasted by war, the French navy riding her channel, send an army to Ireland to levy no tax, to enforce no law, to an- swer no end whatever, except to spoliate the char- ters of Ireland, and enforce a barren oppression ? What ! has England lost thirteen provinces ? has she reconciled herself to this England offered loss, and will she not be reconciled ^"^e'^'ngto''' to the liberty of Ireland ? Take no- America, tice, that the very Constitution which I move you to declare. Great Britain herself offered to America : it is a very instructive proceeding in the British history. In 1778 a commission went out with powers to cede to the thirteen prov- inces of America totally and radically the legis- lative authority claimed over her by the British Parliament ;'' and the commissioners, pursuant to their powers, did offer to all, or any of the American states, the total surrender of the leg- islative authority of the British Parliament. I will read you their letter to the Congress. [Here the letter was read, surrendering the power, as aforesaid]. What! has England of- the Irish Custom-hoii.se, which had been prohibited by an English act of ParHament, for the purpose of trying the validity of the Act of the sixth of George the First. * This is the commission referred to in such se- vere terms by Mr. Burke in a speech delivered at Bristol. See page 297. 1780.] A DECLARATION OF IRISH RIGHT. 389 fered this to the resistance of America, and will she refuse this to the loyalty of Ireland ? But, though you do not hazard disturbance by agree- ing to this resolution, you do most exceedingly hazard tranquillity by rejecting it. Do not im- agine that the question will be over when this motion shall be negatived. No ! it will recur in a vast variety of shapes and diversity of places. Your constituents have instructed you, in great numbers, with a powerful uniformity of senti- ment, and in a style not the less awful because full of respect. They will find resources in their own virtue, if they have found none in yours. Public pride and conscious liberty, wounded by repulse, will find ways and means of vindication. You are in that situation in which every man, every hour of the day, may shake the pillars of the state. Every court may swarm with ques- tions of right, every quay and wharf with pro- hibited geods. What shall the judges, what the commissioners, do upon such occasion ? Shall they comply with the laws of Ireland against the claims of England, and stand firm where you have trembled? Shall they, on the other hand, not comply ; and shall they persist to act against the law ? Will you punish them, will you proceed against them, for not showing a spirit superior to your own ? On the other hand, will you not punish them ? Will you leave your liberties to be trampled on by those men? Will you bring them and yourselves, all constituted orders, ex- ecutive power, judicial power, parliamentary au- thority, into a state of odium, impotence, and con- tempt ; transferring the task of defending public right into the hands of the populace, and leaving it to the judges to break the laws, and to the people to assert them ? Such would be the con- sequence of false moderation, of irritating timid- ity, of inflammatory palliations, of the weak and corrupt hope of compromising with the court be- fore you have emancipated the country. I have answered the only semblance of a solid reason aijainst the motion. I will now Less import- ^ ant objection try to rcmovc some lesser pretenses, some minor impediments ; for instance : first, that we have a resolution of the same kind already in our jom-nals. But how often was the Great Charter confirmed ? Not more frequently than your rights have been violated. Is one sol- itary resolution, declaratory of your rights, suf- ficient for a country, whose history, from the be- ginning unto the end, has been a course of vio- lation ? The fact is, every new breach is a reason for a new repair; every new infringement should be a new declaration, lest charters should be overwhelmed by precedents, and a nation's rights lost in oblivion, and the people themselves lose the memory of their own freedom. I shall hear of ingratitude, and name the ar- gument to despise it. I know the men who use it are not grateful. They arc insatiate ; they are public extortioners, who would stop the tide of public prosperity, and turn it to the channel of their own wretched emolument. I know of no species of gratitude which should prevent my country from being free ; no gratitude which should oblige Ireland to be the slave of England. In cases of robbery or usurpation, nothing is an object of gratitude, except the thing stolen, the charter spoliated. A nation's liberty can not. like her money, be rated and parceled out in gratitude. No man can be grateful or liberal of his conscience, nor woman of her honor, nor nation of her liberty. There are certain inim- partable, inherent, invaluable properties not to be alienated from the person, whether body pol- itic or body natural. With the same contempt do I treat that charge which says that Ireland is insatiable ; seeing that Ireland asks nothing but that which Great Britain has robbed her of — her rights and privileges. To say that Ire- land is not to be satisfied vrith liberty, because she is not satisfied with slavery, is folly. I laugh at that man who supposes that Ireland will not be content with a free trade and a free Constitution ; and would any man advise her to be content with less ? I shall be told that we hazard the modification of the law of Poynings, and the Judges Bill, and the Habeas Corpus Bill, and the Nullum Tem- pus Bill ; but I ask, have you been for years beg- ging for these little things, and have you not yet been able to obtain them ? And have you been contending against a little body of eighty men, in Privy Council assembled, convocating them- selves into the image of a Pai'liament, and min- istering your high office ; and have you been contending against one man, an humble individ- ual, to you a leviathan — the English Attorney General, exercising Irish legislation in his own person, and making your parliamentary deliber- ations a blank, by altering your bills or suppress- ing them ; have you not been able to quell this little monster ? Do you wish to know the rea- son ? I will tell you ; because you have not been a Parliament, nor your country a people. Do you wish to know the remedy ? Be a. Par- liament, become a nation, and those things will follow^ in the train of your consequence. I shall be told that tithes are shaken, being vested by force of English acts. But in answer to that, I observe, time may be a title, but an English Act of Parliament certainly can not. It is an authority which, if a judge would charge, no jury would find, and which all the electors of Ireland have already disclaimed — disclaimed unequivocally, cordially, and universally. Sir, this is a good argument for an act of title, but no argument against a Declaration of Right. My friend, who sits above me, has a bill of con- firmation.'' We do not come unprepared to Par- liament. I am not come to shake property, but to confirm property, and to restore freedom. The nation begins to foi'm — we are moldering into a people ; freedom asserted, property secured, and the army, a mercenary band, likely to be de- pendent on your Parliament, restrained by law. ° A bill to be immediately introduced on passing the Declaration, by which all laws of the English Parliament affecting property were to be confirmed by the Irish Parliament. 390 MR. GRATTAN ON MOVING A DECLARATION, ETC [1780. Never was such a revolution accomplished in so short a time, jxid with such public tranquillity. In what situation would those men, who call them- selves friends of constitution and of government, have left you ? They would have left you with- out a title (as they stole it) to your estates, with- out an assertion of your Constitution, or a law for your army ; and this state of private and pub- lic insecurity, this anarchy, raging in the king- dom for eighteen months, these mock-moderators would have had the presumption to call peace. The King has no other title to his Crown than Appeaitothe that which you have to your liberty. uie'ilevoru- ^°^^^ ^'"® fo^nt^ed, the throne and your tioiiofiesa fi-eedom, upon the right vested in the subject to resist by arms, notwithstanding their oaths of allegiance, any authority attempting to impose acts of power as laws ; whether that au- thority be one man or a host, the second James or the British Parliament, every argument for the house of Hanover is equally an argument for the liberties of Ireland. The Act of Settle- ment^ is an act of rebellion, or the sixth of George the First an act of usurpation. I do not refer to doubtful history, but to living record, to common charters, to the interpretation England has put on those charters (an interpretation made, not b)' words onl}', but crowned by arms), to the rev- olution she has formed upon them, to the King she has established, and, above all, to the oath of allegiance solemnly plighted to the house of Stuart, and afterward set aside in the instance of a grave and moral people, absolved by virtue of those very charters ; and as any thing less than liberty is inadequate to Ireland, so is it dan- gerous to Great Britain. We are too near the British nation ; we are too conversant with her history ; we are too much fired by her example to be any thing less than equals ; any thing less, we should be her bitterest enemies. An enemy to that power which smote us with her mace, and to that Constitution from whose blessings we were excluded, to be ground, as we have been, by the British nation, bound by her Parliament, plundered by her Crown, threatened by her ene- mies, and insulted with her protection, while we returned thanks for her condescension, is a sys- tem of meanness and misery which has expired in our determination and in her magnanimity. That there are precedents against us, I allow ; _ . . acts of power I would call them, not Precedents '^ ' notofbind- precedents: and I answer the English mg force. *^, ,. ' , , , ,, " pleadmg such precedents, as they an- swered their Kings when they urged precedents against the liberty of England. Such things are the tyranny of one side, the weakness of the oth- er, and the law of neither. We will not be bound by them ; or rather, in the words of the Decla- ration of Right, no doing, judgment, or proceed- ing to the contrary shall be brought into prece- dent or example. Do not, then, tolerate a pow- er, the power of the British government, over ^ This was an act of the British Parliament set- tling the line of succession to the British Crown on the descendants of the Princess Sophia of Hanover, to the exclusion of the Stuarts. this land, which has no foundation in necessity, or utility, or empire, or the laws of England, or the laws of Ireland, or the laws of nature, or the laws of God. Do not suffer that power, which banished your manufacturers, dishonored your peerage, and stopped the growth of your people. Do not, I say, be bribed by an export of woolen, or an import of sugar, and suffer that power, which has thus withered the land, to have exist- ence in your pusillanimity. Do not send the people to their own resolves for liberty, passing by the tribunals of justice, and the high court of Parliament ; neither imagine that, by any forma- tion of apology, you can palliate such a commis- sion to your hearts, still less to your children, who will sting you in your grave for interposing between them and their Maker, and robbing them of an immense occasion, and losing an op- portunity which you did not create and can nev- er restore. Hereafter, when these things shall be his- tory, your age of thraldom, your sud- , •" -^ ==. .' V , Peroration. den resurrection, commercial redress, and miraculous armament,'^ shall the historian stop at liberty, and observe, that here the prin- cipal men among us were found wanting, were awed by a weak ministry, bribed by an empty treasury ; and when liberty was within their grasp, and her temple opened its folding doors, fell down, and were prostituted at the threshold V I might, as a constituent, come to your bar and demand my liberty. I do call upon you by the laws of the land, and their violation ; by the instructions of eighteen counties ; by the arms, inspiration, and providence of the present mo- ment — tell us the rule by which we shall go : assert the law of Ireland ; declare the liberty of the land ! I will not be answered by a public lie, in the shape of an amendment : nor, speak- ing for the subjects' freedom, am I to hear of faction. I wish for nothing but to breathe in this our island, in common with my fellow-sub- jects, the air of liberty. I have no ambition, un- less it be to break your chain and contemplate your glory. I never will be satisfied so long as the meanest cottager in Ireland has a link of the British chain clanking to his rags. He may be naked, he shall not be in irons. And I do see the time at hand ; the spirit is gone forth ; the Declaration of Right is planted ; and though great men should fall off, yet the cause shall live; and though he who utters this should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlast the humble organ who conveys it, and the breath of liberty, like the word of the holy man, will not die with the prophet, but survive him.^ '' Referring to the rapid formation of the volun- teer corps. 8 The reader will be interested to observe the rhythmua of the last three paragraphs ; so slow and dignified in its movement; so weighty as it fulls on the ear; so perfectly adapted to the sentiments ex- pressed in tliis magnificent passage. The etl'ect will be heightened by comparing it with tlie rapid and iambic movement of the passage containing Mr. Erskine's description of the Indian chief, page (596. 1782.] MR. GRATTAN'S SECOND MOTION, ETC. 391 Mr. Grattan then moved the Declaration of Right; but the power of the English govern- ment was too great in the Irish House of Com- mons, and he was voted down. He renewed the motion two years after, in connection with the speech which follows. SPEECH OF MR. GRATTAN IN THE IRISH HOUSE OF COMMONS ON MAKING HIS SECOND MOTION FOR A DECLARATION OF IRISH RIGHT, DELIVERED APRIL 16, 1782. INTHODUCTION. During the two years which had elapsed since the preceding speech, great changes had taken place, both in England and in Ireland, which made the passing of the Declaration certain, if strongly insisted upon by the people. Mr. Grattan, therefore, in moving it a second time, uses not so much the language of argu- ment or persuasion, as of assured triumph. He speaks of it in his first sentence as if already carried. I am now to address a free people. Ages have passed away, and this is the first The object ^ . , . / i j i_ j- ^• already se- momcut m which jou could DC distin- '="'^'^- guished by that appellation. I have spoken on the subject of your liberty so often, that I have nothing to add, and have only to ad- mire by what Heaven-directed steps you have proceeded, until the whole faculty of the nation is braced up to the act of her own deliverance. I found Ireland on her knees. I watched over her with an eternal solicitude, and have traced her progress from injuries to arms, and from arms to liberty. Spirit of Swift — spirit of Moi- yneux^ — your genius has prevailed — Ireland is now a nation — in that new character I hail her ; and, bowing to her august presence, I say, Eato perpetua !^ She is no longer a wretched colony, returning Comparison thauks to her Governor for his rapine, wuhofte'l and to her King for his oppression; countries. j,qj. jg gj^g ^q^ g, frctful, Squabbling sectary, perplexing her little wits, and firing her furious statutes with bigotry, sophistry, disabili- ties, and death, to transmit to posterity insignifi- cance and war. Look to the rest of Europe. Holland lives on the memory of past achieve- ments. Sweden has lost her liberty. England has sullied her great name by an attempt to en- slave her colonies ! You are the only people — you, of the nations in Europe, are now the only people — who excite admiration ; and in your present conduct, you not only exceed the present generation, but you equal the past. I am not afraid to turn back and look antiquity in the face. The Revolution, that great event — whether you call it ancient or modern, I know not — was tar- nished with bigotry. The great deliverer — for such I must ever call the Prince of Nassau — was blemished by oppression. He assented to — ^ This speech and the preceding are from a copy corrected by Mr. Grattan, and published in 1821. 2 William Molyneux, the mathematician and as- tronomer, was originally bred to the law, and, being deeply interested for his countrymen, he wrote his celebrated work on the rights of the Irish Parlia- ment, the first and ablest work ever produced on the subject. He was born in 1656, and died in 1698. 3 Let her endure forever. SPEECH/ &c. he was forced to assent to acts which deprived the Catholics of religious, and all the Irish of civil and commercial rights, though the Irish were the only subjects in these islands who had fought in his defense. But you have sought liberty on her own principles. See the Presby- terians of Bangor petition for the Catholics of the South ! You, with difficulties innumerable, with dangers not a few, have done what your ancestors wished, but could not accomplish ; and what your posterity may preserve, but will never equal. You have molded the jarring elements of your country into a nation, and have rivaled those great and ancient states whom you were taught to admire, and among whom you are now to be recorded. In this proceeding you had not the advantages which were common to other great Her inferior countries — no monuments, no trophies, advantages. none of those outward and visible signs of great- ness, such as inspire mankind, and connect the ambition of the age which is coming on with the example of that which is going off, and forms the descent and concatenation of glory. No ! You have not had any great act recorded among all your misfortunes ; nor have you one public tomb to assemble the crowd, and speak to the living the language of integrity and free- dom. Your historians did not supply the want of monuments. On the contrary, those narrators of your misfortunes w^ho should have felt for your wrongs, and have punished your oppressors with oppression's natural scourge, the moral indigna- tion of history, compromised with public villainy, and trembled ; they recited your violence, they suppressed your provocation, and wrote in the chain that entrammeled their country. I am come to break that chain ; and I congratulate my country, who, without any of the advantages I .speak of, going forth, as it were, with nothing but a stone and a sling, and what oppression could not take away, the favor of Heaven, ac- complished her own redemption, and left you nothing to add, and every thing to admire. You want no trophy now — the records of Parliament are the evidence of your glory. I beg to observe, that the deliverance of Ire- land has proceeded from her own right hand 392 MR. GRATTAN'S SECOND MOTION [1782. I rejoice at it; for, had the great acquisition „ , ,. of your freedom proceeded from the Her deliver- •' ,> t-. , i . ance achieved bounty of England, that great work ^ '^^^ ' would have been defective — would have been defective both in renown and secu- rity. It was necessary that the soul of the country should have been exalted by the act of her own redemption, and that England should withdraw her claim by operation of treaty, and not of mere grace and condescension. A gratu- itous act of Parliament, however express, would have been revocable ; but the repeal of her claim, under operation of treaty, is not. In that case, the Legislature is put in covenant, and bound by the law of nations, the only law that can legally bind Parliament. Never did this country stand so high. England and Ireland treat ex cequo. Ireland transmits to the King her claim of right, and requires of the Parlia- ment of England the repeal of her claim of power, which repeal the English Parliament is to make under the force of a treaty, which de- pends on the law of nations — a law which can not be repealed by the Parliament of England. I rejoice that the people are a party to this treaty, because they are bound to preserve it. There is not a man of forty shillings freehold that is not associated in this our claim of right, and bound to die in its defense — cities, coun- ties, associations, Protestants, and Catholics. It seems as if the people had joined in one great sacrament. A flame has descended from heav- en on the intellect of Ireland, and plays round her head with a concentrated glory. There are some who think, and a few who Defense of dcclare, that the associations to which teer a"'"o"" I ^cfer are illegal. Come, then, let us ciations. tj-y the charge. And first, I ask, what were the grievances ? An army imposed on us by another country — that army rendered perpet- ual — the Privy Council of both countries made a part of our Legislature — our Legislature depriv- ed of its originating and propounding power — another country exercising over us supreme leo-- islative authority — that country disposing of our property by its judgments, and prohibiting our ti-ade by its statutes ! These were not grievanc- es, but spoliations ; they left you nothing. When you contended against them, you contended for the whole of your condition. When the minis- ter asks by what right, we refer him to our Maker. We sought our privileges by the right which we have to defend our property against a robber, our life against a murderer, our country against an invader, whether coming with civil or military force, a foreign army, or a foreign Legislature. This is a case that wants no prec- edent. The revolution wanted no precedent ; for such things arrive to reform a course of bad precedents, and, instead of being founded on precedent, become such. The gazing world, whom they came to save, begins by doubt and concludes by worship. Let other nations be deceived by the sophistry of courts — Ireland has studied politics in the lair of oppression : and, taught by suffering, comprehends the right of subjects and the duty of kings. Let other nations imagine that subjects are made for the 3Ionarch; but we conceive that kings, and Par- liaments like kings, ai'e made for the subject. The House of Commons, honoAble and right honorable as it may be ; the Lords, noble and illustrious as we pronounce them, are not origin- al, but derivative. Session after session they move their periodical orbit about the source of their being — the nation. Even the King — ]Maj- esty — must fulfill her due and tributary course round that great luminary; and, created by its beam and upheld by its attraction, must incline to that light or go out of the system. Ministers — we mean the ministers who have been dismissed ;^ I rely on the good in- ^rsument r^ tentions of the present — former minis- ^oned on the r . opposers of ters, I say, have put questions to us. the ceciara- We beg to put questions to them. They desired to know by what authority this nation had acted. This nation desires to know by what authority they acted. By what author- ity did government enforce the articles of war ? By what authority does government establish the post-office? By what authority are our mer- chants bound by the East India Company's charter? By what authority has Ireland one hundred years been deprived of her export trade ? By what authority are her peers de- prived of their judicature ? By what authority has that judicature been transferred to the peers of Great Britain, and our property, in its last re- sort, referred to the decision of a non-resident, unauthorized, illegal, and unconstitutional tribu- nal? Will ministers say it was the authority of the British Parliament? On what ground, then, do they place the question between the government on one side, and the people on the other? The government, according to their own statement, has been occupied to supersede the lawgiver of the country, and the people to restore him. His Majesty's late ministers thought they had quelled the country when they bought the newspapers, and they represented us as wild men, and our cause as visionary ; and they pen- sioned a set of wretches to abuse both ; but we took little account of them or their proceedings, and we waited, and we watched, and we moved, as it were, on our native hills, with the minor remains of our parliamentary army, until that minority became Ireland ! Let those ministers now go home, and congratulate their king on the delivei-ance of his people. Did you imagine that those little parties, whom, three years ago, you beheld in awkward squads parading the streets, would arrive to such distinction and ef- fect? What was the cause? For it was not the sword of the volunteer, nor his muster, nor his spirit, nor his promptitude to put down acci- dental disturbance, public discord, nor his own unblamed and distinguished deportment : this was much; but there was more than this. The * Lord North and his associates are here referred to. The "present" ministers were Lord Rockingham, Lord Shelbnrne, Mr. Fox, &c., composing the Whig administration, wliich followed that of Lord North. 1782.1 ON A DECLARATION OF IRISH RIGHT. 393 upper orders, the property and the abilities of the country, formed with the Volunteer ; and the volunteer had sense enough to obey them. This united the Protestant with the Catholic, and the landed proprietor with the people. There was still more than this — there was a continence which confined the corps to limited and legiti- mate objects. There was a principle which preserved the corps from adultery with French politics. There was a good taste which guard- ed the corps from the affectation of such folly. This, all this, made them bold ; for it kept them innocent, it kept them rational. No vulgar rant against England, no mysterious admiration of France, no crime to conceal, no folly to blush for, they were what they professed to be ; and that was nothing less than society asserting her liberty according to the frame of the British Constitution — her inheritance to be enjoyed in perpetual connection with the British empire. I do not mean to say that there were not divers violent and unseemly resolutions. The immensi- ty of the means was inseparable from the ex- cess. Such are the great works of nature — such is the sea ; but, like the sea, the waste and ex- cess were lost in the immensity of its blessings, benefits, and advantage ; and now, having given a Parliament to the people, the Volunteers will, I doubt not, leave the people to Parliament, and thus close, pacifically and majestically, a great work, which will place them above censure and above panegyric. Those associations, like other institutions, will perish ; they will perish with the occasion that gave them being •, and the gratitude of their country will write their epitaph : "This phenomenon, the departed Volunteer, justified by the occasion, with some alloy of public evil, did more public good to Ireland than all her institutions. He restored the liberties of his country ; and thus, from his grave, he an- swers his enemies." Connected by freedom, as well as by allegi- Engiandand ^"^^6, the two uatious, Great Britain irefaiid now and Ireland, form a constitutional con- confederate. - , ' . lederacy as well as an empire. The Crown is one link, the Constitution another; and, in my mind, the latter link is the most powerful. You can get a king any where ; but England is the only country with whom you can get and participate a free Constitution. This makes En- gland your natural connection, and her king your natural as well as your legal sovereign. This is a connection, not as Lord Coke has idly said, not as Judge Blackstone has foolishly said, not as other judges have ignorantly said, by con- quests ; but, as Molyneux has said, and as I now say, by compact — that compact is a free Consti- Essentiai prin- ^^^^'ow. Suffer mc uow to State some ^cipiesofthe of the things essential to that free Constitution. They are as follows : The independency of the Irish Parliament — the exclusion of the British Parliament from any authority in this realm — the restoration of the Irish judicature, and the exclusion of that of Great Britain. As to the perpetual Mutiny Bill, it must be more than limited — it must be effaced. That bill must fall, or the Constitution can not stand. That bill was originally limited by this House to two years, and it returned from En- gland without the clause of limitation. What ! a bill making the army independent of Parlia- ment, and perpetual ? I protested against it then ; I have struggled with it since ; and I am now come to destroy this great enemy of my country. The perpetual Mutiny Bill must van- ish out of the statute book. The excellent tract of Molyneux was burned — it was not answered, and its flame illumined posterity. This evil paper shall be burned ; but burned like a felon, that its execution may be a peace-offering to the people, and that a Declaration of Right may be planted on its guilty ashes. A new Mutiny Bill must be formed, after the manner of England, and a Declaration of Right flaming in its pre- amble. As to the legislative powers of the Pri- vy Council, I conceive them to be utterly inad- missible, against the Constitution, against the privileges of Parliament, and against the dignity of the realm. Do not imagine such power to be a theoretical evil ; it is, in a very high de- gree, a practical evil. I have here an inventory of bills, altered and injured by the interference of the Privy Councils — Money Bills originated by them — Protests by the Crown, in support of those Money Bills — prorogation following those Protests. I have a Mutiny Bill of 1780, altered by the Council and made perpetual — a bill in 1778, where the Council struck out the clause repealing the Test Act — a Militia Bill, where the Council struck out the compulsory clause, requiring the Crown to proceed to form a mili- tia, and left it optional to his majesty's ministers whether there should be a militia in Ireland. I have the Money Bill of 1775, when the Council struck out the clause enabling his majesty to take a part of our troops for general service, and left it to the minister to withdraw the forces against act of Parliament. I have to state the altered Money Bill of 1771 ; the altered Money Bill of 1775; the altered Money Bill of 1780. The day would expire before I could recount their ill doings. I will never consent to have men — God knows whom — ecclesiastics, &c., &c.; men unknown to the constitution of Parliament, and only known to the minister who has breath- ed into their nostrils an unconstitutional exist- ence — steal to their dark divan, which they call the Council, to do mischief, and make nonsense of bills which their Lordships, the House of Lords, or we, the House of Commons, have thought good and meet for the people. No ! These men have no legislative qualifications ; they shall have no legislative power. 1st. The repeal of the perpetual Mutiny Bill, and the dependency of the Irish army on the Irish Parliament; 2d. The abolition of the legislative power of the Council; 3d. The abrogation of the claim of England to make law for Ireland ; the exclusion of the En- glish House of Peers, and of the English King's Bench from any judicial authority in this realm ; the restoration ©f the Irish Peers to their final judicature ; the independency of the Irish Par- 394 MR. GRATTAN'S INVECTIVE [1783. liament in its sole and exclusive Legislature- these are my terms. Mr. Grattan now moved the Declaration of Right, which was carried almost without a dis- senting voice ; and a bill soon after passed the British Parliament, ratifying the decision by re- pealing the obnoxious act of George I. The Parliament of Ireland was at last inde- pendent ; but the beneficial results, so glowingly depicted by Mr. Grattan, were never realized ; all were sacrificed and lost through a spirit of selfishness and faction. The Protestants of Ire- land were divided into two parties, the Aristoc- racy and the Patriots. The former were exclu- sive, selfish, and arrogant ; the latter were eager for reform, but too violent and reckless in the measures they employed to obtain it. The Par- liament of Ireland was a borough Parliament, the members of the House of Commons being, in no proper sense, representatives of the people, but put in their places by a comparatively small number of individuals belonging to the higher classes. These classes, while they were among the foremost to demand that " England should not give law to Ireland,'' were equally determ- ined that the Irish Parliament, in making laws, should do it for the peculiar benefit of the Aris- tocracy, and the support of their hereditary in- fluence. The Patriots, on the other hand, de- manded Parliamentary Reform, and clamored for universal suffi-age. To enforce their claims, they assembled a Convention of the Volunteers at Dublin in 1783, with a view to influence, and perhaps overawe the Parliament. Their suc- cess would have been certain if they had gone one step farther, and proposed to impart the privileges they enjoyed to the Roman Catholics, by making them voters. But this the Protest- ants of neither party were willing to do. The Romanists comprised three quarters of the pop- ulation ; very few of them could read or write ; and both parties — the Patriots as well as the Aristocracy — equally shrunk from the experi- ment of universal suflrage among this class of their fellow-citizens. Under these circumstan- ces, the call for Parliamentary Reform was very faintly echoed by the great body of the people. The Convention of Volunteers had none of that power which they had previously exerted on the question of Parliamentary Independence. A bill was brought into the House of Commons by Mr. Flood for extending the right of suffrage, but it was voted down in the most decisive manner. The bitterest animosities now prevailed, and new subjects of contention arose from time to time. Associations were formed, at a later pe- riod, under the name of United Irishmen, de- signed to promote the cause of liberty. Rash men, in many instances, gained the ascendency : an insurrection was planned, and in part com- menced ; and measures of great severity were resorted to by the British government to restore order. The more sober part of the community became weary of these contentions, and some began to look to a union with England as the only safeguard of their persons and property. The British ministry had the strongest motives to urge on this measure in order to prevent fu- ture troubles; and in the year 1800, to a great extent by the use of bribes, the union was ef- fected, and from this time the Parliament of Ire- land became extinct. INVECTIVE OF MR. GRATTAN AGAINST MR. FLOOD, DELIVERED OCTOBER 28, 1783. It has been said by Mr. Flood, that " the pen would fall from the hand, and the fetus of the mind would die unborn,"' if men had not a privi- lege to maintain a right in the Parliament of En- gland to make law for Ireland. The affectation of zeal, and a burst of forced and metaphorical conceits, aided by the arts of the press, gave an alarm which, I hope, was momentary, and which only exposed the artifice of those who were wick- ed, and the haste of those who were deceived. But it is not the slander of an evil tongue that can defame me. I maintain my reputation in public and in private life. No man who has not a bad character can ever say that I deceived ; no country can call me cheat. But I will sup- pose such a public character. I will suppose such a man to have existence. I will begin with his character in its political cradle, and I will follow him to the last state of political dis- solution. I will suppose him, in the first stage of his life, to have been intemperate ; in the second, to have been corrupt ; and in the last, seditious ; that after an envenomed attack on the persons and measures of a succession of viceroys, and after much declamation against their illegal- ities and their profusion, he took office, and be- came a supporter of government when the pro- fusion of ministers had greatly increased, and their crimes multiplied beyond example ; when your money bills were altered without reserve by the Council ; when an embargo was laid on your export trade, and a war declared against the liberties of America. At such a critical moment, I will suppose this gentleman to be corrupted by a great sinecure office to muzzle his declamation, to swallow his invectives, to give his assent and vote to the ministers, and to become a supporter of government, its measures, its embargo, and its American war. I will sup. pose that he was suspected by the government that had bought him, and in consequence there- of, that he thought proper to resort to the acts of a trimmer, the last sad refuge of disappointed am- 1783.] AGAINST MR. FLOOD. 395 bition ; that, with respect to the Constitution of his country, that part, for instance, which regard- ed the Mutiny Bill, when a clause of reference was introduced, whereby the articles of war, which were, or hereafter might be, passed in England, should be current in Ireland without the interference of her Parliament — when such a clause was in view, I will suppose this gentle- man to have absconded. Again, when the bill was made perpetual, I will suppose him again to have absconded ; but a year and a half after the bill had passed, then I will suppose this gen- tleman to have come forward, and to say that your Constitution had been destroyed by the Per- petual Bill. With regard to that part of the Con- stitution that i-elates to the law of Poynings, I will suppose the gentleman to have made many a long, very long disquisition before he took office, but, after he received office, to have been as silent on that subject as before he had been loquacious. That, when money bills, under color of that law, were altered, year after year, as in 1775 and 1776, and when the bills so altered were re- sumed and passed, I will suppose that gentleman to have absconded or acquiesced, and to have sup- ported the minister who made the alteration ; but when he was dismissed from office, and a mem- ber introduced a bill to remedy this evil, I will ; suppose that this gentleman inveighed against t the mischief, against the remedy, and against the person of the introducer, who did that duty , which he himself for seven years had abandoned, i With respect to that part of the Constitution which is connected with the repeal of the 6th of George the First, when the inadequacy of the repeal was debating in the House, I will sup- pose this gentleman to make no kind of objec- tion : that he never named, at that time, the word renunciation ; and that, on the division on that subject, he absconded ; but when the office he had lost was given to another man, that he came forward, and exclaimed against the meas- ure ; nay, that he went into the public streets to canvass for sedition ; that he became a rambling incendiary, and endeavored to excite a mutiny in the Volunteers against an adjustment between Great Britain and Ireland, of liberty and repose, wiiich he had not the virtue to make, and against an administration who had the virtue to free the country without buying the members. With respect to commerce, I will suppose this gentleman to have supported an embargo which lay on the country for three years, and almost destroyed it ; and when an address in 1 778, to j open her trade, was propounded, to remain silent 1 and inactive. And WMth respect to that other I part of her trade, wHiich regarded the duty on sugar, when the merchants were examined in j 1778, on the inadequate protecting duty, when j the inadequate duty was voted, when the act was recommitted, when another duty w^as pro- posed, when the bill returned with the inade- I quate duty substituted, when the altered bill was ' adopted, on every one of tho.sc questions I will suppose the gentleman to abscond ; but a year and a half after the mischief was done, he out of office, I will suppose him to come forth, and to tell his country that her trade had been de- stroyed by an inadequate duty on English sugar, as her Constitution had been ruined by a Per- petual Mutiny Bill ! In relation to three fourths of our fellow-subjects, the Catholics, when a bill was introduced to grant them rights of property and religion, I will suppose this gentleman to have come forth to give his negative to their pretensions. In the same manner, I will sup- pose him to have opposed the institution of the Volunteers, to which we ow^e so much, and that he went to a meeting in his own county to pre- vent their establishment ; that he himself kept out of their associations ; that he was almost the only man in this House that was not in uni- form, and that he never w^as a Volunteer until he ceased to be a placeman, and until he became an incendiary. With regard to the liberties of America, which were inseparable from ours, I will suppose this gentleman to have been an enemy, decided and unreserved ; that he voted against her liberty, and voted, moreover, for an address to send four thou- sand Irish troops to cut the throats of the Amer- icans ; that he called these butchers " armed negotiators," and stood w^ith a metaphor in his mouth, and a bribe in his pocket, a champion against the rights of America, the only hope of Ireland, and the only refuge of the liberties of mankind. Thus defective in every relationship, whether to Constitution, commerce, or toleration, I will suppose this man to have added much pri- vate improbity to public crimes ; that his prob- ity was like his patriotism, and his honor on a level with his oath. He loves to deliver pane- gyrics on himself. I will interrupt him, and say, " Sir, you are much mistaken if you think that your talents have been as great as your life has been reprehensible. You began your parliamentary career with an acrimony and per- sonality which could have been justified only by a supposition of virtue. After a rank and clam- orous opposition you became, on a sudden, silent; you w'ere silent for seven years ; you were silent on the greatest questions ; and you were silent for money In 1773, while a negotiation w^as pending to sell your talents and your turbulence, you absconded from your duty in Parliament ; you forsook your law of Poynings ; you forsook the questions of economy, and abandoned all the old themes of your former declamation. You were not at that period to be found in the House. You were seen, like a guilty spirit, haunting the lobby of the House of Commons, watching the mo- ment in which the question should be put, that you might vanish. You were descried with a crim- inal anxiety, retiring from the scenes of your past glory; or you were perceived coasting the upper benches of this House like a bird of prey, with an evil aspect and a sepulchral note, meditating to pounce on its quarry. These w^ays — they were not the ways of honor — you practiced pending a negotiation which was to end either in your sale or your sedition. The former tak- ing place, you supported the rankest measures 396 MR. GRATTAN'S INVECTIVE [1800. that ever came before Parliament ; the embargo of 1776, for instance. '0, fatal embargo, that breach of law, and ruin of commerce !' You sup- ported the unparalleled profusion and jobbing of Lord Harcourt's scandalous ministry — the ad- dress to support the American war — the other address to send four thousand men, which you had yourself declai'cd to be necessary for the de- fense of Ireland, to fight against the liberties of America, to which you had declared yourself a friend. You, sir, who delight to utter execra- tions against the American commissioners of 1778, on account of their hostility to America — you, sir, who manufacture stage thunder against Mr. Eden for his anti-American principles — you, sir, whom it pleases to chant a hymn to the immortal Hampden — you, sir, approved of the tyranny exercised against America; and you, sir, voted four thousand Irish troops to cut the throats of the Americans fighting for their free- dom, fighting for your freedom, fighting for the great principle, liberty ! But you found, at last (and this should be an eternal lesson to men of your craft and cunning), that the King had only dishonored you ; the court had bought, but would not trust you ; and, having voted for the w^orst measures, you remained, for seven years, the creature oi salary^ without the confidence of government. Mortified at the discovery, and stung by disappointment, you betake yourself to the sad expedients of duplicity. You try the sorry game of a trimmer in your progress to the acts of an incendiary. You give no honest support either to the government or the people. You, at the most critical period of their exist- ence, take no part; you sign no non-consump- tion agreement ; you are no Volunteer ; you op- pose no Perpetual Mutiny Bill ; no altered Sugar Bill ; you declare that you lament that the Dec- laration of Right should have been brought for- ward ; and obsei'viMg, with regard to both prince and people, the most impartial treachery and de- sertion, you justify the suspicion of your Sover- eign, by betraying the government, as you had sold the people, until, at last, by this hollow con- duct, and for some other steps, the result of mor- tified ambition, being dismissed, and another per- son put in your place, you fly to the ranks of the Volunteers and canvass for mutiny : you announce that the country was ruined by other men during that period in which she had been sold by you. Your logic is, that the repeal of a declaratory law is not the repeal of a law at all, and the effect of that logic is, an English act affecting to eman- cipate Ireland, by exercising over her the legis- lative authority of the British Parliament. Such has been your conduct ; and at such conduct every order of your fellow-subjects have a right to exclaim ! The merchant may say to you—' the constitutionalist may say to you — the Amer- ican may say to you — and I, / now say, and say to your beard, sir — you are not an honest man /" INVECTIVE OF MR. GRATTAN AGAINST MR. CORRY, DELIVERED DURING THE DEBATE ON THE UNION OF IRELAND TO ENGLAND, FEBRUARY 14, 1800. Has the gentleman done ? Has he completely done ? He was unparliamentary from the begin- ning to the end of his speech. Thei-e was scarce a word that he uttered that was not a violation of the privileges of the House ; but I did not call him to order. Why? Because the limited talents of some men render it impossible for them to be se- vere without being unparliamentary ; but before I sit down I shall show him how to be severe and parliamentary at the same time. On any other occasion I should think myself justifiable in treat- ing with silent contempt any thing which might fall from that honorable member ; but there are times when the insignificance of the accuser is lost in the magnitude of the accusation. I know the difficulty the honorable gentleman labored under when he attacked me, conscious that, on a comparative view of our characters, public and private, there is nothing he could say which would injure me. The public would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made by an honest man. The right honorable gentleman has called me "an unimpeached traitor." I ask, why not "traitor," unqualified by any epithet? I will tell him ; it was because he dare not. It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not courage to give the blow. I will not call him a villain, because it would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy counselor, I will not call him fool, because he happens to be Chancellor of the Exchequer ; but I say he is one who has abused the privilege of Par- liament and the freedom of debate, to the utter- ing language which, if spoken out of the House, I should answer only with a blow. I care not how high his situation, how low his character, how contemptible his speech ; whether a privy coun- selor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow. He has charged me with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly false. Docs the honorable gentleman rely on the report of the House of Lords for the foundation of his assertion ? If he does, I can prove to the committee there was a physical im- possibility of that report being true ; but I scorn to answer any man for my conduct, whether he be a political coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power by a false glare of courage or not. I scorn to answer any wizard of the Castle, throwing himself into fantastical airs ; 1800.] AGAINST MR. CORRY. 397 but if an honoi*able and independent man were to make a charge against me, I wQuld say, " You charge me with having an intercourse with reb- els, and you found your charge upon what is said to have appeared before a committee of the Lords. Sir, the report of that committee is totally and egregiously irregular." I will read a letter from Mr. Nelson, who had been examined before that committee ; it states that what the report represents him as having spoken is not what he said. [Mr. Grattan hei-e read the letter from Mr. Nelson, denying that he had any connection with Mr. Grattan, as charged in the report ; and concluded by saying, '■^ never was misrepresenta- tion more vile than that put into my mouth by the report. ^^] From the situation that I held, and from the connections I had in the city of Dublin, it was necessary for me to hold intercourse with vari- ous descriptions of persons. The right honora- ble member might as well have been charged with a participation in the guilt of those traitors ; for he had communicated with some of those very persons on the subject of parliamentary reform. The Irish government, too, were in communica- tion with some of them. The right honorable member has told me I de- serted a profession where wealth and station were the reward of industry and talent. If I mistake not, that gentleman endeavored to obtain those rewards by the same means ; but he soon desert- ed the occupation of a barrister for those of a par- asite and pander. He fled from the labor of study to flatter at the table of the great. He found the Lords' parlor abetter sphere for his exertions than the hall of the Four Courts ; the house of a great man a more convenient way to power and to place ; and that it was easier for a statesman of middling talents to sell his friends than a lawyer of no talents to sell his clients. For myself, whatever corporate or other bod- ies have said or done to me, I, from the bottom of my heart, forgive them. I feel I have done too much for my country to be vexed at them. 1 would rather that they should not feel or ac- knowledge what I have done for them, and call me traitor, than have reason to say I sold them. I will always defend myself against the assassin ; hut with large bodies it is diflerent. To the people I will bow ; they may be my enemy — I never shall be theirs. At the emancipation of Ireland, in 1782, I took a leading part in the foundation of that Constitution which is now endeavored to be de- stroyed. Of that Constitution I was the author ; in that Constitution I glory ; and for it the hon- orable gentleman should bestow praise, not in- vent calumny. Notwithstanding my weak state of body, I come to give my last testimony against this Union, so fatal to the liberties and interest of my country. I come to make common cause with these honorable and virtuous gentlemen around me ; to try and save the Constitution ; or if not save the Constitution, at least to save cur characters, and remove from our graves the foul disgrace of standing apart while a deadly blow is aimed at the independence of our coun- try. The right honorable gentleman says I fled from the country, after exciting rebellion; and that I have returned to raise another. No such thing. The charge is false. The civil war had not commenced when I left the kingdom ; and J could not have returned without taking a part. On the one side thei-e was the camp of the rebel ; on the other, the camp of the minister, a greater traitor than that rebel. The strong-hold of the Constitution was nowhere to be found. I agree that the rebel who rises against the government should have suffered ; but I missed on the scaf- fold the right honorable gentleman. Two des- perate parties were in arms against the Consti- tution. The right honorable gentleman be- longed to one of those parties, and deserved death. I could not join the rebel — I could not join the government. I could not join torture — I could not join half-hanging — I could not join free quarter. I could take part with neither. I was, therefore, absent from a scene where I could not be active without self-reproach, nor indiffer- ent with safety. Many honorable gentlemen thought differently from me, I respect their opinions ; but I keep my own ; and I think now, as I thought than, that the treason of the minister against the liberties of the people was infinitely worse than the rebellion of the people against the minister. I have returned, not, as the right honorable member has said, to raise another storm — I have returned to discharge an honorable debt of grat- itude to my country, that conferred a great re- ward for past services, which, I am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have re- turned to protect that Constitution of which I was the parent and the founder, from the assas- sination of such men as the honorable gentleman and his unworthy associates. They are cor- rupt — they are seditious — and they, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against their coun- try. I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public under the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand, ready for impeachment or k'ial : I dare accusation. I defy the honorable gentleman ; I defy the government ; I defy the whole phalanx. Let them come forth. I tell the ministers I will neither give them quarter nor take it. I am here to lay the shattered re- mains of my constitution on the floor of this House, in defense of the liberties of my country. # * ^ # # # My guilt or innocence have little to do with the question here. I rose with the rising for- tunes of my country — I am willing to die with her expiring liberties. To the voice of the peo- ple I will bow, but never shall I submit to the calumnies of an individual hired to betray them and slander me. The indisposition of my body has left me, perhaps, no means but that of lying down with fallen Ireland, and recording upon her tomb my dying testimony against the flagitious corruption that has murdered her independence. 398 MR. GRATTAN ON THE CHARACTER OF LORD CHATHAM. The right honorable gentleman has said that this was not my place — that, instead of having a voice iu the councils of my country, I should now stand a culprit at her bar — at the bar of a court of criminal judicature, to answer for my treasons. The Irish people have not so read my history ; but let that pass ; if I am what he said I am, the people ax-e not therefore to forfeit their Constitu- tion. In point of argument, therefore, the attack is bad — in point of taste or feeling, if he had either, it is worse — in point of fact, it is false, utterly and absolutely false — as rancorous a falsehood as the most malignant motives could suggest to the prompt sympathy of a shameless and a venal defense. The right honorable gen- tleman has suggested examples which I should have shunned, and examples which I should have followed. I shall never follow his, and I have ever avoided it. I shall never be ambitious to purchase public scorn by private infamy — the lighter characters of the model have as little chance of weaning me from the habits of a life spent, if not exhausted, in the cause of my na- tive land. Am I to renounce those habits now forever, and at the beck of whom ? I should rather say of what — half a minister — half a mon- key — a 'prentice politician, and a master cox- comb. He has told you that what he said of me here, he would say any where. I believe he would say thus of me in any place where he thought himself safe in saying it. Nothing can limit his calumnies but his fears — in Parliament he has calumniated me to-night, in the King's courts he would calumniate me to-morrow ; but had he said or dared to insinuate one half as much elsewhere, the indignant spirit of an hon- est man would have answered the vile and venal slanderer with — a blow. CHAEACTER OF LORD CHATHAM. The Secretary stood alone. Modern degen- eracy had not reached him. Original and unac- commodating, the features of his character had the hardihood of antiquity. His august mind overawed Majesty ; and one of his Sovereigns [George III.] thought royalty so impaired in his presence, that he conspired to remove him, in order to be relieved from his superiority.^ No state chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, no idle contest for ministerial victories, sunk him to the vulgar level of the great ; but, overbearing, pei'suasive, and impracticable, his object was England — his ambition was fame. Without dividing, he destroyed party ; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France sunk beneath him ; with one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded in the other the democracy of England. The sight of his mind was infinite, and his schemes were to afTect, not England, not the present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the means by which these schemes were accom- plished, always seasonable, always adequate, the suggestions of an understanding animated by ar- dor, and enlightened by prophecy. The ordinary feelings which make life amiable and indolent — those sensations which soften and allure, and vulgarize, were unknown to him. No domestic difficulties, no domestic weakness, reached him ; but, aloof from the sordid occur- rences of life, and unsullied by its intercourse, he came occasionally into our system to counsel and decide. See page 63. A character so exalted, so strenuous, so vari- ous, so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age, and the Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she found defects in this statesman, and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victo- ries — but the history of his country and the ca- lamities of the enemy answered and refuted her. Nor were his political abilities his only talents ; his eloquence was an era in the Senate. Pecul- iar and spontaneous, familiarly expressing gigan- tic sentiments and instinctive wisdom — not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the splendid con- flagration of Tully, it resembled, sometimes the thunder, and sometimes the music of the spheres. Like Murray [Lord Mansfield], he did not con- duct the understanding through the painful sub- tilty of argumentation ; nor was he, like Town- send,"^ forever on the rack of exertion, but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point by the flashings of his mind, which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was in this man some- thing that could create, subvert, or reform ; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence to sum- mon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and rule the wildness of free minds with unbounded authority ; something that could establish or overwhelm empire, and strike a blow in the world that should resound through its history. 2 Mr. Charles Townsend. See his character in Burke's speech on American Taxation. MR. SHERIDAN. Richard Brinsley Sheridan was born at Dublin in September, 1751. His fa- ther, Thomas Sheridan, author of the first attempt at a Pronouncing Dictionary of our language, was a distinguished teacher of elocution, and during most of his life was connected with the stage. This fact very naturally turned the attention of young Sheridan, even from his boyhood, to theatrical composition ; and, being driven to strenuous exertion in consequence of an early marriage, he became a dramatic writer at the age of twenty-four. His first production was The Rivals, which, by the live- liness of its plot and the exquisite humor of its dialogue, placed him at once in the first rank of comic writers. His next work was the opera of The Duenna, which was performed seventy-five times during the season in which it was first produced, and yielded him a very large profit. In the year 1776, in conjunction with two friends, he purchased Garrick's half of the Drury Lane Theater ; and becoming pro- prietor of the other half at the end of two years, he gave his father the appointment of manager. He now produced his School for Scandal, which has been regarded by many as the best comedy in our language. This was followed by The Critic, which was equally admirable as a farce ; and here ended, in 1779, his "legitimate offerings on the shrine of the Dramatic Muse." He still, however, retained his proprietorship in Drury Lane, which would have furnished an ample support for any one but a person of his expensive and reckless habits. Mr. Sheridan had cherished from early life a very lively interest in politics ; and now that his thirst for dramatic fame was satiated, his ambition rose higher, and led him to seek for new distinction in the fields of oratory. He had already made the acquaintance of Lord John Townsend, Mr. Windham, and other distinguished mem- ber's of the Whig party, and was desirous of forming a political connection with Mr. Fox. To promote this object, Townsend made a dinner-party early in 1780, at which he brought them together. Speaking of the subject afterward, he said, " I told Fox that all the notions he might have conceived of Sheridan's talents and genius from the ' Rivals,' &c., would fall infinitely short of the admiration of his astonishing powers which I was sure he would entertain at the first intervicAV. Fox told me, after breaking up from dinner, that he had always thought Hare, after my uncle, Charles Townsend, the wittiest man he had ever met with, but that Sheridan surpassed them both, infinitely." Sheridan, on his side, formed the strongest attach- ment for Mr. Fox as a man and a political leader, and was soon after placed on terms of equal intimacy with Mr. Burke. He was admitted to Brooks's Club-house, the head-quarters of the Whigs, ^ and soon after became a member for Stafibrd, at an expense of £2000. Mr. Sheridan's maiden speech was delivered on the 20th of November, 1760. The House listened to him with marked attention, but his appearance did not entirely satisfy the expectations of his friends. Woodfall, the reporter, used to relate that ^ The following lines of Tick ell give the character of Brooks: And know, I've bought the best Champagne from Brooks ; From liberal Brooks, whose speculative skill Is hasty credit and a distant bill ; Who, nursed in clubs, disdains a vulgar trade, Exults to trust, and blushes to be paid. Nothing could be more convenient for a man of Sheridan's habits than so indulgent a creditor. 400 MR. SHERIDAN. Sheridan came up to him in the gallery, when the speech was ended, and asked him, with much anxiety, what he thought of his first attempt. " I am sorry to say," replied Woodfall, " that I don't think this is your line — you had better have stuck to your former pursuits." Sheridan rested his head on his hand for some minutes, and then exclaimed, with vehemence, " It is in me, and it shall come out of me!'' He now devoted himself with the utmost assiduity, quickened by a sense of shame, to the cultivation of his powers as a speaker ; and having great ingenuity, ready wit, perfect self-possession, and a boldness amounting almost to effrontery, he made him- self at last a most dexterous and effective debater. During the short administration of the Marquess of Rockingham, in 1782, Mr. Sheridan came into office as Under Secretary of State ; but on the decease of Rock- ingham, he resigned in common with Fox, Burke, and others, when Lord Shelburne was made prime minister in preference to Mr. Fox. Mr. William Pitt now came into the ministry, at the age of twenty-three, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and undertook, soon after, to put down Mr. Sheridan by a contemptuous allusion to his theatrical pursuits. " No man," said he " admires more than I do the abilities of that right honorable gentleman — the elegant sallies of his thought, the gay effusions of his fancy, his dramatic turns, and his epigrammatic point. If they were reserved for the iwoi^er stage, they would no doubt receive the plaudits of the audience ; and it would be the fortmie of the right honorable gentleman, " sui plausu gaudere the- atri."'^ Mr. Sheridan replied to this insolent language, with admirable adroitness, in the following words : "On the particular sort of personality which the right hon- orable gentleman has thought proper to make use of, I need not comment. The pro- priety, the taste, and the gentlemanly point of it must be obvious to this House. But let me assure the right honorable gentleman that I do now, and will, at any time he chooses to repeat this sort of allusion, meet it with the most perfect good humor. Nay, I will say more. Flattered and encouraged by the right honorable gentleman's panegyric on my talents, if I ever engage again in the composition he alludes to, I may be tempted to an act of presumption, and attempt an improvement on one of Ben Jonson's best characters, that of the Angry Boy, in the Alchymist." The effect was irresistible. The House was convulsed with laughter ; and Mr. Pitt came veiy near having the title of the Angry Boy fastened on him for the remainder of his life. When the administration of Lord Shelburne gave way to the Coalition Ministry of Mr. Fox and Lord North, in 1783, Sheridan was again brought into office as Sec- retary of the Treasury. The defeat of Mr. Fox's East India Bill threw him out of power at the close of the same year ; and from that time, for more than twenty-two years, he was a strenuous and active opponent of Mr. Pitt. In the year 1767, Mr. Burke, who had devoted ten years to the investigation of English atrocities in India, called forth the entire strength of the Whig party for the impeachment of WaiTcn Hastings. To Mr. Sheridan he assigned the management of the charge relating to the Begums or princesses of Oude. It was a subject pecul- iarly suited to his genius ; and, aided by an intimate knowledge of the facts, which was supplied him by the researches of Burke, he brought forward the charge in the House of Commons, on the 7th of February, 1787. His speech on this occasion was so imperfectly reported that it may be said to be wholly lost. It was, however, according to the representation of all who heard it, an astonishing exhibition of elo- quence. The whole assembly, at the conclusion, broke forth into expressions of tu- multuous applause. Men of all parties vied with each other in their encomiums ; and Mr. Pitt concluded his remarks by saying that " an abler speech was perhaps never delivered" A motion was made to adjourn, that the House might have time to recover their calmness and " collect their reason," after the excitement they had 2 To exuU in the applause of his oxen theater. MR. SHERIDAN. 401 undergone ; and Mr. Stanhope, in seconding the motion, declared that he had come to the House prepossessed in favor of Mr. Hastings, but that nothing less than a mir- acle could now prevent him from voting for his impeachment. Twenty years after, Mr. Fox and Mr. Windham, two of the severest judges in England, spoke of this speech with undiminished admiration. The former declared it to be the best speech ever made in the House of Commons. The latter said that " the speech deserved all its fame, and was, in spite of some faults of taste, such as were seldom wanting in the literary or in the parliamentary performances of Sheridan, the greatest that had been delivered within the memory of man. "^ When the Commons voted to impeach Mr. Hastings, Sheridan was chosen one of the managers, and had assigned to him the charge relating to the Begums of Oude. He was thus called upon to reproduce, as far as possible, his splendid oration of the preceding year, in presence of an assembly still more dignified and august, and under circumstances calculated to inflame all his ambition as an orator and a man. The expectation of the public was wrought up to the highest pitch. During the four days on which he spoke, the hall was crowded to suifocation ; and such was the eagerness to obtain seats, that fifty guineas were in some instances paid for a single ticket. These circumstances, undoubtedly, operated to the injury of Mr. Sheridan. They aggravated those " faults of taste" which were spoken of by Mr. Windham. They led him into many extravagances of language and sentiment ; and though all who heard it agreed in pronouncing it a speech of astonishing power, it must have been far inferior in true eloquence to his great original effort in the House of Com- mons. His success in these two speeches was celebrated by Byron in the following lines, which are, however, much more applicable to Burke than to Sheridan : When the loud ciy of trampled Hiudostaii Arose to Heaven, in her appeal to man, His was the thunder — his the avenging rod— The wrath — the delegated voice of God, Which shook the nations through his lips, and blazed, Till vanquished senates trembled as they praised. Contrary to what might have been expected, Mr. Sheridan never attempted, in after life, that lofty strain of eloquence which gained him such rapturous applause on this occasion. " Good sense and wit were the great weapons of his oratory — shrewdness in detecting the weak points of an adversary, and infinite powers of rail- lery in exposing them." This is exactly the kind of speaking which has always been ^ It was natural, in respect to such a speech, that some erroneous or exaggerated statements should have been given to the public. There is an anecdote related by Bissett, in his Reign of George HI., which must be regarded in this light, Bissett says, " The late Mr. Logan, well known for his literary efforts, and author of a masterly defense of Mr. Hastings, went that day to the House, prepossessed for the accused and against the accuser. At the expiration of the first hour, he said to a friend, ' All this is declamatory assertion without proof;' when the second was finished, ' This is a wonderful oration ;' at the close of the third, ' Mr. Hastings has acted unjustifiably ;' the fourth, * Mr. Hastings is a most atrocious criminal;' and at last, ' Of all monsters of iniquity, the most enormous is Warren Hastings !' " Now the natural and almost necessary impression made by this stoiy is, that Mr. Logan, previous to hearing this speech, had written his "masterly defense of Mr. Hastings;" and that, being thus "prepossessed" and committed in favor of the accused, he experienced the remarkable change of views and feelings here described. But the fact is, his defense of Hastings was written after the speech in question was delivered ; and Mr. Logan therein charged the Commons with having acted, in their impeachment of Hastings, " from motives of personal animosity — not from regard to public justice." It is incredible that a man of Mr. Logan's character — a distinguished clergyman of the Church of Scotland— should have written such a pamphlet, or brought such a charge, only a few months after he had expressed the views of Mr. Hastings ascribed to him above. This anecdote must, therefore, have related to some other person who was confounded with Mr. Logan, and may be numbered with the many uncertainties which are current under the name of Literaiy Histoiy.' C C 402 MR. SHERIDAN. most popular in the House of Commons. It made Mr. Sheridan much more formida- ble to Mr. Pitt, during his long and difficult administration, than many in the Oppo- sition ranks of far greater information and reasoning ahihties. Notwithstanding his habitual indolence, and the round of conviviality in which he was constantly en- gaged, Sheridan contrived to pick up enough knowledge of the leading topics in de- bate to make him a severe critic on the measures of Mr. Pitt. If authorities or re- search were necessary, he would frankly say to his friends who desired his aid, " You know I am an ignoramus — here I am — instruct me, and I'll do my best." And such was the quickness and penetration of his intellect, that he was able, with sur- prising facility, to make himself master of the information thus collected for his use, and to pour it out with a freshness and vivacity which were so much the greater because his mind was left free and unencumbered by the effort to obtain it. A curious instance is mentioned of his boldness on such occasions, when his materials happened to fail him. In 1794, when he came to reply to the argument of Mr. Hastings' counsel on the Begum charge, his friend, Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor, un- dertook to read for him any papers which it might be necessary to bring forward in the course of his speech. One morning, when a certain paper was called for, Mr. Taylor asked him for the bag containing his documents. Sheridan rephed, in a whisper, that he had neither bag nor papers — that they must contrive, by dexterity and boldness, to get on without them. The Lord Chancellor, in a few moments, called again for the minutes of evidence. Taylor pretended to send for the bag, and Sheridan proceeded with the utmost confidence, as if nothing had happened. "Within a few minutes the " jj<2j;ers" were again demanded, when Mr. Fox ran up to Taylor, and inquired anxiously for the bag. " The man has no bag," says Taylor, in a whisper, to the utter discomfiture of Mr. Fox. Sheridan, in the mean time, went on — taking the facts for granted — in his boldest strain. When stopped by the court, and reproved for his negligence in not bringing forward the evidence, he as- sumed an indignant tone, and told the Chancellor that, " as a manager of the im- peachment in behalf of the Commons, he should conduct the case as he thought fit , that it was his most ardent desire to be perfectly correct in what he stated ; and that, should he fall into error, the printed ^minutes of the evidence would correct him !" With all this apparent negligence, however, the papers of Mr. Sheridan, after his death, disclosed one remarkable fact, that his ipit was most of it studied out before- hand. His commonplace book was found to be full of humorous thoughts and sport- ive turns, put down usually in a crude state just as they occurred to his mind, and afterward wrought into form for future use. To this collection we may trace a large part of those playful allusions, keen retorts, sly insinuations, and brilliant sallies — the jest, the frolic, and the fun — which flash out upon us in his speeches in a man- ner so easy, natural, and yet unexpected, that no one could suspect them of being any thing but the spontaneous suggestions of the moment. His biographer has truly said that, in this respect, " It was the fate of Mr. Sheridan throughout life — and in a great degree, perhaps his policy — to gain credit for excessive indolence and carelessness, while few persons, with so much natural brilliancy of talents, ever employed more art and circumspection in their display." Mr. Sheridan usually took part in every important debate in Parliament, and gained much applause, in 1803, by a speech of uncommon eloquence, in which he endeav- ored to unite all parties for the defense of the country, when threatened with inva- sion by France. In the course of this speech, he turned the ridicule of the House upon Mr. Addington, the prime minister, in a way which was not soon forgotten. Mr. Addington was one of those " respectable" half-way men with whom it is diffi- cult to find fault, and yet whom nobody confides in or loves. He was the son of an eminent physician, and there was something in his air and manner which savored MR. SHERIDAN. 403 of tlie profession, and had given him, to a limited extent, the appellation of " The Doctor." Mr. Sheridan, in the course of his speech, adverting to the personal dislike of many to Mr. Addington, quoted the lines of Martial : Nou amo te, Sabine, nee possum dicere quare ; Hoc tautum possum dicere, non amo te; and added the English parody : I do not like you, Doctor Fell ; The reason why I can not tell ; But this, I'm sure, I know full well, I do not like you, Doctor Fell. His waggish emphasis on the word doctor, and his suhsequent repetition of it in the course of his speech, called forth peals of laughter ; and thenceforth the minister was generally known by the name of the Doctor} The Opposition papers took up the title, and twisted and tortured it into every form of attack, till Mr. Addington was borne down and driven from office by mere ridicule— ^a Vv^eapon which is often more fatal than argument to men of moderate abilities in high political stations.) Mr. Sheridan had always lived beyond his means, and was utterly ruined in 1809, by the burning of the Drury Lane Theater, which comprised all his property. He was also betrayed by his convivial habits into gross intemperance. Wine being no longer of sufficient strength to quicken his faculties for conversation or debate, stronger liquors were substituted. A person sitting one evening in a cofiee-house, near St. Stephen's Chapel, saw, to his surprise, a gentleman with papers before him, after taking tea, pour the contents of a decanter of brandy into a tumbler, and drink it off without dilution. He then gathered up his papers and went out. Shortly after, the spectator, on entering the gallery of the House of Commons, heard the brandy-drink- er, to his astonishment, deliver a long and brilliant speech. It was Mr. Sheridan I The natural consequences of such a life were not slow in overtaking him : he soon became bankrupt in character and health, as well as in fortune. The relief which he occasionally obtained from his friends served only to protract his misery. He was harassed with Avrits and executions, at the moment when he was sinking under disease ; and a sheriff's oificer, but for the intervention of his physician, would have carried him in his blanket to prison. A powerful writer in the Morning Post now called the attention of the public to his wretched condition. '* Oh I delay not to draw aside the curtain within which that proud spirit hides its sufferings. Prefer ministering in the chambers of sickness to mustering at ' the splendid sorrows which adorn the hearse' — I say, life and succor against Westminster Abbey and a funeral I" Men of all ranks were roused. His chamber was crowded with sympathizing friends, but it was too late. He died on the 7th of July, 1816, at the age of sixty-four, a melancholy example of brilliant talents sacrificed to a love of display and convivial indulgence. He was buried with great pomp in the only spot of the Poet's Corner which remained unoccupied. His pall was borne by royal and noble dukes, by earls and marquesses, and his funeral procession was composed of the most distinguished nobility and gentry of the kingdom.^ * The Scottish members having deserted Mr. Addington in some debate about this time, Mr. Sheridan convulsed the House by suddenly exclaiming, in the words of the messenger to Mac- beth, Doctor, "the Thanes fly from thee!" 5 Mr. Moore, in the following lines, gave vent to his feelings at the conduct of those who deserted Sheridan in his poverty, but crowded around his death-bed and flocked to his funeral with all the tokens of their early respect and affection : How proud they can press to the funeral array Of him whom they shunn'd in his sickness and sorrow — How bailiffs may seize his last blanket to-day, Whose pall shall be held up by nobles to-morrow ! 404 MR. SHERIDAN. Wraxall, in his Posthumous Memoirs, vol. i., 36-8, gives the following description of Mr. Sheridan's person and manner of speaking in his best days, before intemper- ance had begun its ravages on his body or mind. " His countenance and features had in them something peculiarly pleasing, indicative at once of intellect, humor, and gayety. All these characteristics played about his lips when speaking, and oper- ated with inconceivable attraction ; for they anticipated, as it were, to the eye the eltect produced by his oratory on the ear ; thus opening for him a sure way to the heart or the understanding. Even the tones of his voice, which were singularly mellifluous, aided the general eflect of his eloquence ; nor was it accompanied by Burke's unpleasant Irish accent. Pitt's enunciation was unquestionably more impos- ing, dignified, and sonorous ; Fox displayed more argument, as well as vehemence ; Burke possessed more fancy and enthusiasm ; but Sheridan won his way by a sort of fascination." "He "possessed a ductility and versatility of talents which no public man in our time has equaled ; and these intellectual endowments were sustained by a suavity of temper that seemed to set at defiance all attempts to ruffle or discompose it. Playing with his irritable or angry antagonist, Sheridan exposed him by sallies of wit, or attacked him with classic elegance of satire ; performing this arduous task in the face of a crowded assembly, without losing for an instant either his presence of mind, his facility of expression, or his good humor. He wounded deepest, indeed, when he smiled, and convulsed his hearers with laughter while the object of his ridicule or animadversion was twisting under the lash. Pitt and Dundas, who presented the fairest marks for his attack, found, by experience, that though they might repel, they could not confound, and still less could they silence or vanquish him. In every attempt that they made, by introducing personalities, or illiberal reflections on his private life and literary or dramatic occupations, to disconcert him, he turned their weapons on themselves. Nor did he, while thus chastising his adversary, alter a muscle of his own countenance ; which, as well as his gestures, seemed to partici- pate, and display the unalterable serenity of his intellectual formation. Uarely did he elevate his voice, and never except in subservience to the dictates of his judgment, Avith the view to produce a corresponding eflect on his audience. Yet he was always heard, generally listened to with eagerness, and could obtain a hearing at almost any hour. Burke, who wanted Sheridan's nice tact and his amenity of manner, was continually coughed doAvn, and on those occasions he lost his temper. Even Fox often tired the House by the repetitions which he introduced into his speeches. Sher- idan never abused their patience. "Whenever he rose, they anticipated a rich repast of wit without acrimony, seasoned by allusions and citations the most delicate, yet obvious in their application." Still, it should be remembered that such desertion is the inevitable fate of degrading vice, and especially of the beastly intemperance to which Sheridan had so long been abandoned. Large con- tributions had previously been made for his relief, but his improvidence knew no bounds; and he had for some time reduced himself to such a state that few of his old acquaintances could visit him without pain, or (it may be added) without the deepest mortification to himself, though they might wish, after his death, to do honor to his memory as a man of genius. SPEECH OF MR. SHERIDAN ON SUMMING UP THE EVIDENCE ON THE SECOND, OR BEGUM CHARGE AGAINST WARREN HASTINGS, DELIVERED BEFORE THE HOUSE OF LORDS, SITTING AS A HIGH COURT OF PARLIAMENT, JUNE, 1788. INTRODUCTION. The Begums, or pi-incexses referred to in this speech, were the mother and widow of the celebrated Sujah Dowlah, Nabob of Oude, a kingdom on the upper waters of the Ganges. At his death, he be- queathed for their support large yearly revenues from the government lands, caWedjagkires,^ in addition to the treasures he had accumulated during his reign. He left his throne to Asoph Dowlah, a son by the younger Begum, who proved to be a man of weak intellect and debauched habits, and who soon became a mere vassal of the East India Company, under the government of Mr. Hastings. To secure his subjec- tion, and guard against invasion from the neighboring states, Mr. Hastings compelled him to take large numbers of British troops into his pay, thus relieving the Company of enormous expense, and subjecting the natives to the severest exactions from men ostensibly placed among them for their protection. Single officers of the British army were known to have accumulated fortunes of several hundred thousand pounds during a few years service in Oude. Nearly the whole kingdom was thus reduced from a state of the highest prosperity, to beggary and ruin. The young Nabob was unable to make his regular pay- ments of tribute, until, at the close of 1780, a debt of =£1,400,000 stood against him on the Company's books. Mr. Hastings was, at this time, in the most pressing want of money. He had powerful enemies at Cal- cutta; his continuance in office depended on his being able to relieve the Company at once from its finan cial difficulties ; and to do this effectually was the object of his memorable journey into upper India, in July, 1780. He looked to two sources of supply, Benares and Oude ; and from one or both of these, ho was detenniued to extort the means of relief from all his embarrassments. In respect to Benares, Mr. Mill states, in his British India, that Cheyte Sing, the Rajah of that kingdom, had paid his tribute " with an exactness rarely exemplified in the history of the tributary princes of Hindostan." But the same system had been adopted with him, as with the Nabob of Oude; and when he at last declared his inabil- ity to pay, Mr. Hastings threw him into prison dui'ing the journey mentioned above, deprived him of his throne, and stripped him of all his treasures. They proved, however, to be only £200,000, a sum far short of what Mr. Hastings expected, for he had always supposed the Rajah to be possessed of immense hoards of wealth. Disappointed in his first object, the Governor General now turned his attention to Oude. He knew the young Nabob would be ready, on almost any tenns, to purchase deliverance from the troops which were quartered on his kingdom. He accordingly appointed a meeting with him at Chunar, a fortress of Benares, September 19th, 1781. Here the Nabob secretly offered him a bribe of £100,000. Mr. Hastings took it ; whether with the intention to keep it as his own or pay it over to the Company, does not cer- tainly appear. The transaction, however, soon became public, and the money was finally paid over, but not without a letter from Mr. Hastings to the Board of Directors, intimating in the most significant terms his anxiety to retain the money. On this point, Mr. Sheridan touches with great force in the progress of his speech. But Asoph Dowlah was not to escape so easily. A much larger sura than £100,000 was needed, and he was at length driven to an arrangement by which it was agreed, in the words of Mr. Mill, "that his Highness should be relieved from the expense, which he was unable to bear, of the English troops and gentleinen; and he, on his part, engaged to strip the Begums of both their treasures and their jaghires, delivering to the Governor General the proceeds." — Brit. India, iv., 375. In other words, he was to rob his mother and his grandmother, not only of all their property, but of the yearly income left by his father for their support. But it was easier for the Nabob to promise than to perform. Such were the struggles of nature and reUgion in his breast, that for three months he hesitated and delayed, while Mr. Hastings, who was in the utmost need of money, was urging him to the performance. Finally, Mr. Middletou, the Resident at Oude, was ordered to cut the matter short — "to supersede the authority of the Nabob, and perform the necessary measures by the operation of English troops," if there was any further delay. Under this threat, Asoph resumed the jaghires; but declared, in so doing, that it was "an act of compulsion." • The treasures were next to be seized. They were stored in the Zenana or Harem at Fyzabad, where the princesses resided; a sacred inclosure, guarded with superstitious veneration by the religion of the Hin- doos, against access of all except its own inmates. A body of English troops, under the guidance of Mr. Middleton, marched to Fyzabad, on the 8th of January, 1782, and demanded the treasures. They were The lands thus farmed were also called jaghires, and those who farmed them jaghiredars. 406 MR. SHERIDAN AGAINST [1788. refused, and the town and castie were immediately taken by storm. The Zenana was now in the power of the English ; but Mr. Middletou shrmik from an act of profanation which would probably have created a general revolt throughout Oude, and endeavored to break the spirit of the Begums by other means. He threw into prison their two ministers of state, aged men of the highest distinction ; abridged them of their food, till they were on the borders of starvation ; tortured them with the lash ; deprived the in- mates of the Zenana of their ordinary supply of provisions, till they were on the point of perishing of want; and thus succeeded in extorting property to the amount of £600,000, leaving these wretched worn eu nothing for their support or comfort, not even their common household utensils. Such was the charge which Mr. Sheridan was now to lay before the House of Lords, on the fourteenth day of the trial, Mr. Fox having previously submitted that which related to the treatment of Cheyte Sing. The facts in this case were not denied by Mr. Hastings as to any of the important particulars. His de- fense was this: (1.) That the property did not belong to the Begums. (2.) That their plunder was de- manded by state necessity. (3.) That they had rebelled against him by attempting to assist Cheyte Sing, when deposed; by inducing the jaghiredars, or farmers of t\\Q jagliires, to resist their I'esumption ; and by promoting insurrections in Oude. To get affidavits on these points, Mr. Hastings had sent his friend, Sir Elijah Impey, Chief Justice of Bengal, some hundreds of miles into Oude. (4.) That he was not re- sponsible for the cruelties practiced on the Begums and their ministers, because he had given no direct order on that subject. Such was Mr. Hastings' defense before the House of Commons ; and hence Mr. Sheridan shaped his speech before the House of Lords to meet these points. After disclaiming, in his exordium, those vindictive feelings so loudly charged upon the managers by Mr. Hastings' friends : I. He proves by the testimony of Lord Comwallis the wretched condition to which Oude was reduced; charges all its calamities on the misgovernment and violence of Mr. Hastings ; and shows that it was nevertheless extremely difficult, at such a distance, to produce the full evidence which might be desired of what every one knew to be the fact. IL He then dwells at large on the evidence. (1.) That affiarded by Mr. Hastings himself, in the con- tradictory nature of his various defenses before the House of Commons. (2.) That which went to show the character and station of the Begums, and their perfect right to the property they held. The latter is proved by the explicit decision of the Council at Calcutta, sanctioned by Mr. Hastings himself, after deliberate inquiry ; and also by the guarantees of the Company, founded on that decision. IIL He briefly touches on the plea of State Necessity, and rejects it with indignation, as wholly in- applicable to a case like this. IV. He takes up the treaty at Chunar for plundering the Begums, and the pretexts by which it had been justified. Here he comments with great severity on the conduct of Impey in taking the affidavits, and his appearance before the Lords as a witness — goes at great length in an examination of the affi- davits — shows by a comparison of dates and by other circumstances, that the whole of this defense VTas an after-thought, resorted to by Mr. Hastings, subsequent to the treaty, to excuse his conduct — and that there were causes enough for the commotions in Oude, arising out of the oppression of the English, with- out any intervention of the Begums. V. He describes the scenes connected with the resumption of the jaghircs, and the cruelties inflicted upon the Begums and their ministers to extort the treasures. VI. He charges all these crimes and cruelties upon Mr. Hastings, as committed by his authorized agents, and rendered necessary by his express instructions. This speech, considered as a comment on evidence, is one of great ability, notwithstanding the imperfect manner in which it is reported. It was a task for which Mr. Sheridan's mind was pecuharly fitted. His keen sagacity, ready wit, and thorough knowledge of the human heart, had here the widest scope for their exercise. He shows uncommon tact in sifting testimony, detecting motives, and exposing the sub- terfuges, contradictions, and falsehoods of Mr. Hastings and his friends. Intermingled with the examin- ation of the evidence, there is a great deal of keen satire and bitter sarcasm, which must have told pow- erfully on the audieuce, especially when set off by that easy, pointed, and humorous style of delivery, in which Mr. Sheridan so greatly excelled. When he rises into a higher strain, as in examining Mr. Hast- ings' plea of "state necessity," or describing the desperation of the natives, throwing themselves on the swords of the soldiery, under the cruel exactions of Major Hanney, he is truly and powerfully eloquent. His attempts to be pathetic or sentimental, as in his famous description of Filial Piety, are an utter fail- ure. It is this passage, in connection with his constant tendency to strain after eflect, which has led some, at the present day, to underrate the talents of Mr. Sheridan, and treat him as a mere ranter. His biographer, Mr. Moore, suggests that many of the blemishes in his printed speeches may be ascribed to the bad taste of his reporter, who makes even Mr. Fox talk, at times, in very lofty and extravagant lan- guage. Tins may to a certain extent be true, but we can not doubt that the "faults of taste" spoken of by Mr. Windham lay in this direction. Sheridan looked upon the audience in Westminster Hall with the eye of an actor. He saw the admirable opportunity which it afforded him for scenic effect ; and he obviously resorted to clap-trap in many passages, which he contrived to make most of his audience feel were his best ones, when they were really his worst. Still, these form only a small part of the speech, and there are many passages to which we can not deny the praise of high and genuine eloquence. 1788.] WARREN HASTINGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 407 SPEECH, &c. My Lords, — I shall not waste your Lordships" tirae nor my own, by any preliminary observa- tions on the importance of the subject before you, or on the propriety of our bringing it in this solemn manner to a final decision. My honor- able friend [Mr. Burke], the principal mover of the impeachment, has already executed the task in a way the most masterly and impressive. He, whose indignant and enterprising genius, roused by the calls of public justice, has, with unprece- dented labor, perseverance, and eloquence, excit- ed one branch of the Legislature to the vindica- tion of our national character, and through whose means the House of Commons now makes this embodied stand in favor of man against man's iniquity, need hardly be followed on the general grounds of the prosecution. Confiding in the dignity, the liberality, and in- The prosecu- telligencc of the tribunal before which tecTb^viniiict" I "o\v have the honor to appear in my ive feelings, delegated capacity of a manager, I do not, indeed, conceive it necessary to engage your Lordships' attention for a single moment with any introductory animadversions. But there is one point which here presents itself that it be- comes me not to overlook. Insinuations have been thrown out that my honorable colleagues and myself" are actuated by motives of malignity against the unfortunate prisoner at the bar. An imputation of so serious a nature can not be per- mitted to pass altogether without comment ; though it comes in so loose a shape, in such whispers and oblique hints as to prove to a certainty that it was made in the consciousness, and, therefore, with the circumspection of false- hood. I can, my Lords, most confidently aver, that a prosecution more disinterested in all its motives and ends ; more free from personal malice or personal interest ; more perfectly public, and more purely animated by the simple and un- mixed spirit of justice, never was brought in any counti'y, at any time, by any body of men, against any individual. What possible resent- ment can we entertain against the unfortunate prisoner ? What possible interest can we have in his conviction ? What possible object of a personal nature can we accomplish by his ruin ? For myself, my Lords, I make this solemn assev- eration, that I discharge my breast of all malice, hatred, and ill will against the prisoner, if at any time indignation at his crimes has planted in it these passions ; and I believe, ray Lords, that I may with equal truth answer for every one of my colleagues. We are, my Lords, anxious, in stating the crimes with which he is charged, to keep out of recollection the person of the unfortunate pris- oner. In prosecuting him to conviction, we are impelled only by a sincere abhorrence of his guilt, and a sanguine hope of remedying future delinquency. We can have no private incentive to the part we have taken. We are actuated singly by the zeal we feel for the public welfare, and by an honest solicitude for the honor of our country, and the happiness of those who are un- der its dominion and protection. With such views, we really, my Lords, lose sight of Mr. Hastings, who, however great in some other respects, is too insignificant to be blended with these important circumstances. The unfortunate prisoner is, at best, to my mind, no mighty object. Amid the series of mischiefs and enormities to my sense seeming to surround him, what is he but a petty nucleus, involved in its lamincB^ scarcely' seen or heard of? This prosecution, my Lords, was not, as is al- leged, " begot in prejudice, and nursed in error." It originated in the clearest conviction of the wrongs which the natives of Hindostan have en- dured by the maladministration of those in whose hands this country had placed extensive powers ; which ought to have been exercised for the ben- efit of the governed, but which was used by the prisoner for the shameful purpose of oppression. I repeat with emphasis, my Lords, that nothing personal or malicious has induced us to institute this prosecution. It is absurd to suppose it. We come to your Lordships' bar as the repre- sentatives of the Commons of England ; and, as acting in this public capacity, it might as truly be said that the Commons, in whose name the impeachment is brought before your Lordships, were actuated by enmity to the prisoner, as that we, their deputed organs, have any private spleen to gratify in discharging the duty imposed upon us by our principals. Your Lordships will also recollect and dis- criminate between impeachment for Does not en- capital offenses and impeachment for ganger Mr. , .-', . 1 • 1 T Ha.stings'ljfe. high crmies and misdemeanors. In an impeachment of the former kind, when the life of an individual is to be forfeited on convic- tion, if malignity be indulged in giving a strong tincture and coloring to facts, the tenderness of man's nature will revolt at it ; for, however strongly indignant we may be at the perpetra- tion of offenses of a gross quality, there is a feel- ing that will protect an accused person from the influence of malignity in such a situation ; but where no traces of this malice are discoverable, wiiere no thirst for blood is seen, where, seeking for exemplary more than sanguinary justice, an impeachment is brought for high crimes and misdemeanors, malice will not be imputed to the prosecutors if, in illustration of the crimes al- leged, they should adduce every possible circum- stance in support of their allegations. Why will it not ? Because their ends have ntong abhorrent to human tenderness. Because, in such a case as the present, for instance, ajl that is aimed at in convicting the prisoner is a tem- porary seclusion fi'om the society of his coun- trymen, whose name he has tarnished by his crimes, and a deduction from the enormous spoils which he has accumulated by his greedy rapacity. ^. _ '-- ' I. The only matter which I shall, ijjftliis stage ,^'1 408 MR. SHERIDAN AGAINST [17S8. of my inquiiy, lay before your Lordships, in order Wretched con- ^o givc you ail imprcssioH of the in- ditioii ofoude, fluence of the crimes on the prisoner and Mr. Hast- . , • , , ings' responsi- ovcr the country in which they were bihty therefor, committed, is to refer to some pas- sages in a letter of the Earl of Cornwallis.^ You see, my Lords, that the British govern- ment, which ought to have been a blessing to the powers in India connected with it, has proved a scourge to the natives, and the cause of desolation to their most flourishing provinces. Behold, my Lords, this frightful picture of the consequences of a government of violence and oppression ! Surely the condition of wretched- ness to which this once happy and independent prince is reduced by our cruelty, and the ruin which in some way has been brought upon his country, call loudly upon your Lordships to in- terpose, and to rescue the national honor and reputation from the infamy to which both will be exposed, if no investigation be made into the cau.ses of their calamities, and no punishment in- flicted on the authors of them. By policy as well as justice, you are vehemently urged to vindicate the English character in the East; for, my Lords, it is manifest that the native powers have so little reliance on our faith, that the preservation of our possessions in that division of the world can only be effected by convincing the princes that a religious adherence to its en- gagements with them shall hereafter distinguish our India orovernment.^ 1 Here Mr. Sheridan read the letter of Lord Corn- wallis, then Governor General of India, which stated that he had been received by the Nabob Vizier [Asoph Dowlah] with every mark of friendship and respect ; but that the attentions of the court of Luck- now [the capital of Oude] did not prevent his seeing the desolation that overspread the face of the coun- try, the sight of which had shocked his very soul ; that he spoke to tlie Nabob on the subject, and earnestly recommended to him to adopt some system of gov- ernment which miglit restore the prosperity of his kingdom and make his people happy ; that the de- graded prince replied to his Lordship, " that as long as the demands of the English government upon the revenue of Oude should remain unlimited, he, the Nabob, could have no interest in establishing econ- omy, and that, while they continued to interfere in the internal regulations of the country, it would be in vain for him to attempt any salutary reform ; for that his subjects knew he was only a cipher in his own dominions, and therefore laughed at and de- spised liis authority aud that of his subjects. The reveitue of Oude, before its connection with the English, exceeded three millions of pounds ster- ling a year, and was levied without any deterioration of the country. Within a very few years the coun- try was reduced, by the exactions of the Company and its agents, in connection with the misgovern- ment of the Nabob, to the condition described above by Lord Cornwallis. 2 To prove the necessity of bringing such a con- viction to the mind of every native prince, Mr. Sher- idan read a letter to Lord Cornwallis from Captain Kirkpatrick, who was resident at the court of the great Mahratta chief, Madajee Scindia. This .let- ter stated that the new system of moderation intro- duced by his Lordship was certainly the only one To these letters what answer shall we return ? Let it not, my Lords, be by words, Nothing but the which will not find credit with the [Tgumrc?/ natives, who have been so often de- fije,"pe o'rthe" ceived by our professions, but by natives. deeds which will assure them that we are at length truly in earnest. It is only by punishing those who have been guilty of the delinquencies which have ruined the country, and by showing that future criminals will not be encouraged or countenanced by the ruling powers at home, that we can possibly gain confidence with the people of India. This alone will revive their respect for us, and secure our authority over them. This alone will restore to us the alienated at- tachment of the much-injured Nabob, silence his clamors, heal his grievances, and remove his dis- trust. This alone will make him feel that he may cherish his people, cultivate his lands, and extend the mild hand of parental care over a fer- tile and industrious kingdom, without dreading that prosperity will entail upon him new rapine and extortion. This alone will inspire the Na- bob with confidence in the English government, and the subjects of Oude with confidence in the Nabob. This alone will give to the soil of that delightful country the advantages which it de- rived from a beneficent Providence, and make it again w^hat it was w^hen invaded by an English spoiler, the garden of India. It is in the hope, my Lords, of accomplishing these salutary ends, of restoring character to En- gland and happiness to India, that we have come to the bar of this exalted tribunal. In looking round for an object fit to be held out to an oppressed people, and to the ^^ Hastin-s world as an example of national just- t'le real crim- ice, we are forced to fix our eyes on Mr. Hastings. It is he, my Lords, who has de- graded our fame, and blasted our fortunes in the East, It is he who has tyrannized with relent- less sevei'ity over the devoted natives of those re- gions. It is he who must atone, as a victim, for the multiplied calamities he has produced ! But though, my Lords, I designate the pris- oner as a proper subject of exemplary Not to he con punishment, let it not be presumed ^mTJam^T that I wish to turn the sword of just- evidence. ice against him merely because some example is required. Such a wish is as remote from my heart as it is from equity and law. Were I not persuaded that it is impossible I should fail to render the evidence of his crimes as conclusive as the effects of his conduct are confessedly afflict- ing, I should blush at having selected him as an to give stability to the British empire in India ; but also observed that, as the princes of that country bad so frequently had cause to lament the infidelity of engagements, it would require time, and repeated proofs of good faith, to convince them of the honesty of the professions thus held out to them ; that ambi- tion, or a desire of conquest, should no longer be en- couraged by British councils, and that a most scru- pulous adherence to all treaties and engagements should bo the basis of our future political transac- tion.?. 1788] WARREN HASTINGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 409 object of retributive justice. If I invoke this heavy penalty on Mr. Hastings, it is because I honestly believe him to be a flagitious delinquent, and by far the most so of all those who have con- tributed to ruin the natives of India and disgrace the inhabitants of Britain. But while I call for justice upon the prisoner, I sincerely desire to render him justice. It would indeed distress me, could I imagine that the weight and consequence of the House of Commons, who are a party in this prosecution, could operate in the slightest degree to his prejudice ; but I entertain no such solicitude or apprehension. It is the glory of the Constitution under which we live, that no man can be punished without guilt, and this guilt must be publicl}^ demonstrated by a series of clear, legal, manifest evidence, so that noth- ing dark, nothing oblique, nothing authoritative, nothing insidious, shall work to the detriment of the subject. It is not the peering suspicion of apprehended guilt. It is not any popular ab- horrence of its wide-spread consequences. It is not the secret consciousness in the bosom of the judge which can excite the vengeance of the law, and authorize its infliction ! No ! In this good land, as high as it is happy, because as just as it is free, all is definite, equitable, and exact. The law^s must be satisfied before they are incurred 5 and ere a hair of the head can be plucked to the ground, legal guilt must be established by legal proof. But this cautious, circumspect, and guarded Peculiar diffi- pnociplc of English jurisprudence, cuity of Ob- which we all so much value and re- taining evi- T r 1 ^ ^ • 1 dence in this vcrc, 1 Iccl at prcscnt m some degree *^*^^' inconvenient, as it may prove an im- pediment to public justice ; for the managers of this impeachment labor under difficulties with regard to evidence that can scarcely occur in any oilrer prosecution. What ! my Lords, it may perhaps be asked, have none of the consid- erable persons who are sufferers by his crimes arrived to offer at your Lordships' bar their test- imony, mixed with their execrations against the prisoner N( -there are none. These suffer- ers are persons whose manners and prejudices keep them separate from all the world, and whose religion will not permit them to appear before 3'our Lordships. But are there no wit- nesses, unprejudiced spectators of these enormi- ties, x'cady to come forward, from the simple love of justice, and to give a faithful narrative of the transactions that passed under their eyes ? No — there are none. The witnesses whom we have been compelled to summon are, for the most part, the emissaries and agents employed, and involved in these transactions ; the wily accomplices of the prisoner's guilt, and the supple instruments of his oppressions. But are there collected no written documents or authentic papers, contain- ing a true and perfect account of his crimes ? No — there are none.^ The only papers we have ^ This is finely and truly put. The managers had the severest difficulties to encounter in respect to ev- idence. It would naturally be expected that some. procured are written by the party himself, or the participators in his proceedings, who studied, as it was their interest, though contrary to their dut}^, to conceal the criminality of their conduct, and, consequently, to disguise the truth. But though, my Lords, I dwell on the difficul- ties which the managers have to encounter with respect to the evidence in this impeachment, I do not solicit indulgence, or even mean to hint, that wiiat w^e have adduced is in any material degree defective. Weak no doubt it is in some parts, and deplorable, as undistinguished by any compunctious visitings of repenting accomplices. But there is enough, and enough in sure validity, notwithstanding every disadvantage and impedi- ment, to abash the front of guilt no longer hid, and to flash those convictions on the minds of your Lordships, which should be produced. II. I now proceed, my Lords, to re- Examination view the evidence. of evidence. (1.) The first article which I shall notice must, I think, be considered pretty Mr. Hastings' strong. It is the defense, or i-ather 'ni""=*istency the defenses^ of the prisoner before the House of Commons : for he has already made four : three of which he has since abandoned and en- deavored to discredit. I believe it is .a novelty in the history of criminal jurispi'udence, that a person accused should first set up a defense, and afterward strive to invalidate it. But this, cer- tainly, has been the course adapted by the pi'is- oner ; and I am the more surprised at it, as he has had the full benefit of the ablest counsel. Rescued from his own devious guidance, I could hardly have imagined that he would have acted so unwisely or indecently, as to evince his con- tempt of one House of Parliament by confessing the impositions w^hich he had practiced on the other. But by this exti-aordinary proceeding, he has given, unwarily, to your Lordships a pledge of his past truth, in the acknowledged falsehood of his present conduct. In every court of law in England, the confes- sion of a criminal, when not obtained by any at least, of the victims of Mr. Hastings' policy would appear in person to convict him of his crimes. Mr. Erskine, on the trial of Stockdale, refers to this fact in a passage of extraordinary dexterity and force. He contrasts the present case with that of Verres, in which hundreds flocked from Sicily to Rome, as witnesses against their oppressor ; but the princes of Hindostan, though suffering a thousandfold great- er oppressions, could not, for reasons hinted at by Mr. Sheridan, be brought from the other side of the globe to confront the author of their ruin. Nearly all the English residents in India sided with Hast- ings, either because they had shared in the robbery of India, or because they believed that his extor- tions and cruelties were the only means by which the British power could have been maintained in that country. These residents could not, therefore, be expected to come forward as witnesses against him. It was only, as Mr. Sheridan states, from his own papers, and the testimony of those who partic- ipated in his crimes, that evidence could be obtained ; and it was proper that the court should be apprised at the outset of the extreme difficulty under which the Managers labored in regard to evidence. 410 MR. SHERIDAN AGAINST [1788. promise of favor or lenity, or by violent threats, is always admitted as conclusive evidence against himself. And if such confession were made be- fore a grave and respectable assembly of per- sons competent to take cognizance of crimes, there is no doubt but that it would have due weight, because it is fair to presume that it must be voluntary, and not procured by any undue or improper means. The prisoner has, in his de- fense, admitted many facts ; and it is the inten- tion of the managers, accordingly, to urge in sup- port of the charges his admission of them. For, when he did it, he was speaking the language not of inconsiderate rashness and haste, but of deliberate consideration and reflection, as will appear to your Lordships by a passage which I shall cite from the introduction to the defense read by Mr. Hastings himself at the bar of the House of Commons. He employs the following- words : " Of the discouragement to which I al- lude, I shall mention but two points, and these it is incumbent upon me to mention, because they relate to effects which the justice of this honorable House may, and I trust will, avert. The first is an obligation to my being at all com- mitted in my defense ; since, in so wide a field for discussion, it would be impossible not to ad- mit some things of which an advantage might be taken to turn them into evidence against myself, whereas another might as well use as I could, or better, the same materials of my defense, without involving me in the same consequences. But I am sure the honorable House will yield me its protection against the cavils of unwar- ranted inference, and if truth can tend to convict me, I am content to be myself the channel to convey it. The other objection lies in my own breast. It was not till Monday last that I form- ed the resolution, and I knew not then whether I might not, in consequence, be laid under the obligation of preparing and completing in five days (and in effect so it proved) the refutation of charges which it has been the labor of my accuser, armed with all the powers of Parlia- ment, to compile during as many years of almost undisturbed leisure." Here, then, my Lords, the prisoner has, upon deliberation, committed his defense to paper ; and after having five days to consider whether he should present it or not, he actually delivers it himself to the House of Commons as one founded in truth, and triumphantly remarks, that " if truth could tend to convict him, he was willing to be himself the channel to convey it." But what is his language now that he has the advice of counsel?^ Why, that there is not a word of truth in what he delivered to the House * Mr. Hastings' counsel told him that he had com- mitted himself imprudently in some parts of the de- fense which he delivered in at the bar of the House of Commons. He, therefore, introduced his friend, Major Scott, to prove that the paper had been drawn up by Mr. Middlcton, Mr. Shore, and others— that Mr. Hastings had not even read it through, and ought not, therefore, to be held responsible for its contents. of Commons as truth ! He did not, it seems, himself prepare the defense which he read as his own before that body. He employed others to draw it up. Major Scott comes to your bar, and represents Mr. Hastings, as it were, con- tracting for a character, to be made ready to his hands. Knowing, no doubt, that the accusation of the Commons had been drawn up b}^ a com- mittee, he thought it necessary, as a point of punctilio, to answer it by a committee also. For himself, he had no knowledge of the facts! no recollection of the circumstances ! He commits his defense wholly to his friends ! He puts his m-emory in trust, and duly nominates and appoints commissioners to take charge of it ! One fur- nishes the raw material of fact, the second spins the argument, and the third twines up the con- clusion ; while Mr. Hastings, with a master's eye, is cheering them on, and overlooking the loom. To Major Scott he says, "you have my good faith in your hands — take care of my consisten- cy — manage yc\j veracity to the best advantage !" '"Mr. Middleton, you have my memory in com- mission!" "Mr. Shore, make me out a good fnancier!" "Remember, Mr. Impey, you have my humanity in your hands !"^ When this prod- uct of their skill was done, he brings it to the House of Commons, and says, " I was equal to the task. I knew^ the difficulties, but I scorned them : here is the truth, and if the truth tends to convict me, I am content myself to be the channel of it." His friends hold up their heads and say, "What noble magnanimity ! This must be the effect of real innocence!" But this journeyman's work, after all, is found to be defective. It is good enough for the House of Commons, but not for your Lordships. The prisoner now presents himself at your bar, and his only apprehension seems to arise from what had been thus done for him. He exclaims, " I am careless of what the managers say or do. Some of them have high passions, and others have bit- ter w^ords, but these I heed not. Save me from the peril of my own panegyric ; snatch me from my own friends. Do not believe a syllable of what I said before ! I can not submit now to be tried, as I imprudently challenged, by the ac- count which I have myself given of my own transactions!" Such is the language of the prisoner, by which it appears that truth is not natural to him, but that falsehood comes at his beck. Truth, indeed, it is said, lies deep, and requires time and labor to gain ; but falsehood J swims on the surface, and is always at hand. / It is in this way, my Lords, that the prisoner shows you how he sports with the dignity and feelings of the House by asserting that to be false, and not entitled *o credit this day, which, on a former, he had averred to be truth itself. Indeed, from this avowal and disavowal of de- * The keenness of this satire can be understood only by one who has entered fully into the charac- ter of the men here brought forward — the conven- ient elasticity of memory in Middleton, the aban- donment of Impey to every excess of cruelt}' which would promote the designs of Hastings, &c. 1788.] WARREN HASTINGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 411 fenses, and from the present defense differing from all the former which have been delivei-ed to your Lordships, it does seem that Mr. Hast- ings thinks he may pursue this course just as far as best suits his convenience or advantage. It is not at all improbable, if he should deem it expedient, that he will hei-eafter abandon the one now submitted to you, and excuse himself by saying, "It was not made by me, but by my counsel, and I hope, therefore, your Lordships will give no credit to it." But if he will abide by this, his last revised and amended defense, I will join issue with him upon it, and prove it to be in numerous places void of truth, and almost every part of it unfounded in argument as well as fact. (2.) I am now to advert more particularly to Character of the the evidcncc in support of the alle- t^idr'rT4.Ttothe gations of the charge on which the property. prisoucr is arraigned. We have al- ready shown, most satisfactorily, that the Be- gums of Oude were of high birth and distin- guished rank ; the elder, or grandmother of the reigning prince being the daughter of a person of ancient and illustrious lineage, and the youn- ger, or prince's mother, of descent scarcely less noble. We have also shown, with equal clear- ness, by the testimony of several witnesses, how sacred is the residence of women in India. To menace, therefore, the dwelling of these prin- cesses with violation, as the prisoner did, was a species of torture, the cruelty of which can only be conceived by those who are conversant with the peculiar customs and notions of the inhabit- ants of Hindostan. We have nothing in Europe, my Lords, which can sive us an idea of the manners of paid to the the East. Your Lord.ships can not highpr cl?""- Reverence laid es of females evcn Icam thc right nature of the peo- 111 India. Yt]e^s feelings and prejudices from any history of other jNIohammedan countries — not even from that of the Turks ; for they ai'e a mean and degraded race in comparison with many of these great families, who, inheriting from their Persian ancestors, pi'eserve a purer style of prejudice and a loftier superstition. Women there are not as in Turkey — they nei- ther go to the mosque nor to the bath. It is not the thin vail alone that hides them ; but, in the inmost recesses of their Zenana, they are kept from public view by those reverenced and protected walls, which, as Mr. Hastings and Sir Elijah Impey admit, are held sacred even by the ruffian hand of warfare, or the more uncourteous hand of the law. But, in this situation, they are not confined from a mean and selfish policy of man, or from a coarse and sensual jealousy. En- shrined, rather than immured, their habitation and retreat is a sanctuary, not a prison — their jeal- ousy is their own — a jealousy of their own hon- or, that leads them to regard liberty as a degra- dation, and the gaze of even admiring eyes as inexpiable pollution to the purity of their fame and the sanctity of iheir honor. Such being the general opinion (or prejudices, let them be called) of this country, your Lord- ships will find that whatever treasures were given or lodged in a Zenana of this description must, upon the evidence of the thing itself, be placed beyond the reach of resumption. To dispute with the counsel about the original right to those treasures — to talk of a title to them by the Mohammedan law ! Their title to them is the title of a saint to the relics upon an altar, placed there by Piety, guarded by holy Super- stition, and to be snatched from thence only by Sacrilege.'^ What, now, my Lords, do you think of the tyranny and savage apathy of a man who could act in open defiance of those prejudices which are so interwoven wtth the very existence of the females of the East, that they can be removed only by death ? What do your Lordships think of the atrocity of a man who could threaten to profane and violate the sanctuary of the prin- cesses of Oude, by declaring that he would storm it with his troops, and expel the inhabitants from it by force? There is, my Lords, displa3'ed in the whole of this black transaction a wantonness of cruelty and ruffian-like ferocity that, happily, are not often incident even to the most depraved and obdurate of our species.'' Had there been in the composition of the pris- oner's heart one generous propensity, or lenient disposition even slumbering and torpid, it must have been awakened and animated into kindness and mercy toward these singularly interesting females. Their character, and situation at the time, presented every circumstance to disarm hostility, and to kindle the glow of manly sym- pathy ; but no tender impression could be made on his soul, which is as hard as adamant, and as black as sin. Stable as the everlasting hills in its schemes and purposes of villainy, it has never once been shaken by the cries of affliction, the claims of charity, or the complaints of injustice. With steady and undeviating step he marches on to the consummation of the abominable projects of wickedness which ai'e engendered and con- trived in its gloonty recesses. What his soul prepares his hands are ever ready to execute. It is true, my Lords, that the prisoner is con- spicuously gifted with the energy of vice, and ^ Mr. Law, one of tlie counsel for Mr. Hastings, en- deavored, in liis reply, to throw ridicule on this met- aphor, by asking how the Begum could be considered a "saint," or how the camels, which formed part of the treasure, could be placed on an "altar." This called forth one of Mr. Sheridan's keen retorts. "This is the tirst time in my life," said he, " in which I ever heard of' special pleading' on a meta- phor, or a ' bill of indictment' against a trope ; but such is the turn of the learned counsel's mind, that; when he attempts to be luimorous, no jest can be found, and when serious, no fact is visible." '' Middleton, the instrument of Hastings in these cruelties, shows, in a letter of excuse to his master, how sacred the Zenana, or Harem, was considered among the Hindoos. " No man," he says, " can en- ter the walls of the Zenana — scarcely in the case of acting against an open enemy." It will be seen hereafter, how this threat was executed, and how Middleton himself shrunk from its literal perform- ance. 412 Mil. SHERIDAN AGAINST [1788. the firmness of indurated scnsibiiit}'. These are the qualities which he assiduously cultivates, and of which his friends vauntingly exult. They have, indeed, procured him his triumphs and his glories. Truly, my Lords, they have spread his fame, and erected the sombre pyramids of his renown. That the treasures, my Lords, of the Zenana, the object of the prisoner's rapacity, and the in- centive to his sacrilegious violation of this hal- lowed abode of the princesses of Oude, were their private j}yopcrli/, justly acquired, and legally secured, and not the money of the state, as is al- leged, has been clearly and incontestabl}' demon- strated. It must be recollected how conclusive was the testimony, both positive and circum- stantial, which we brought to support this point. Believing that it must have pressed itself upon your memories, I shall avoid here the tediousness of a detailed recapitulation. Permit me, how- ever, to call your attention to a very brief sum- mary of it. It is in complete evidence before you that Su- Pr<.ofti,at the J^H ul Dowlah, the husband of the treasures were elder [voungerl Bcgum, entertained^ the private , '■•' ° V ^ V i • •/■ property of the thc wamicst aliection lor his wile, egums. ^^^ ^y^^ liveliest solicitude for her happiness. Endeared to him by the double ties of conjugal attachment, and the grateful re- membrance of her exemplary conduct toward him in the season of his severest misfortunes and accumulated distress, he seems, indeed, to have viewed her with an extravagance of fondness bordering on enthusiasm. You know, my Lords, that when the Nabob [Sujah Dowlah] was re- duced, by the disastrous defeat which he sus- tained at Buxar, to the utmost extremity of ad- verse fortune, she, regardless of the danger and difficulties of the enterprise, fled to him, for the purpose of administering to his misery the solace of tenderness ; and, prompted by the noblest sen- timent, took along with her, for his relief, the jewels with which he had enriched her in his happier and more prosperous days. By the sale of these he raised a large sum of money, and re- trieved his fortunes. After this generous and truly exemplary conduct on her part, the devo- tion of the husband to the wife knew no bounds. Can any farther proof be required of it than the appointment of his son, by her [Asoph Dowlah, the reigning Nabob], as the successor to his throne ? With these dispositions, then, toward his wife, and from the manifest ascendency which she had acquired over him, is it, my Lords, I ask, an unwarrantable presumption that he did devise to her the treasures which she claimed ? On the question of the legal right which the Nabob had to make such a bequest I shall not now dwell ; it having been already shown, beyond disputa- tion, by the learned manager [Mr. Adam] who opened the charge, that, according to the theory ^ Mr. Sheridan here inadvertently puts " elder" for " younger," as is obvious from his subsequent statement. The elder Begum was Sujah Dowlah's mother, and grandmother of the reigning Nabob, Asoph Dowlah, as stated by Mr. Sheridan on a pre- ceding page. as well as the practice of the Mohammedan law, the reigning prince may alienate and dispose of either real or personal property. And it farther appears, my Lords, from the testimony which has been laid before you, that the younger Bcgum, or the Nabob's [Asoph Dowlah] mother, lent mon- ey to her son, amounting to twenty-six lacs of rupees, for which she received, as a pledge, his bonds. Here is the evidcntia rci that the money so lent was acknowledged to be hers ; for no one borrows his own money and binds himself to re- pay it ! But, my Lords, let ns look into the origin of this pretended claim to the Begum's origin of the treasures. We hear nothing of it w^^e public*'''' till the Nabob [Asoph] became em- f^p^ty- barrassed by the enormous expense of maintain- ing the militaiy establishments to which he was compelled by the prisoner. Then, as a dernier resort, the title to the treasures was set up, as the property of the Crown, which could not be willed away. This, truly, was the dawn of the claim. Not long afterward, we detect the open interference of Mr. Hastings in this fraudulent transaction. It was, indeed, hardl}- to be ex- pected that he would permit so favorable an oc- casion to escape of indulging his greedy rapac- ity. We find, accordingly, that Mr. Bristow, the resident at the court of Lucknow [the capital of Oude], duly received instructions to support, with all possible dexterity and intrigue, the pre- tensions of the Nabob. The result of the nego- tiation which in consequence took place, was, that the mother, as well to relieve the distresses of her son, as to secure a portion of her property, agreed finally to cancel his bond for the twenty- six lacs of rupees already lent, and to pay him thirty additional lacs, or c£ 300, 000, making in the whole c£ 560, 000 sterling. Part of this sum it was stipulated should be paid in goods con- tained in the Zenana, which, as they consisted of arms and other implements of war, the Nabob alleged to be the property of the state, and re- fused to receive in payment. The point, how- ever, being referred to the Board at Calcutta, Mr. Hastings then, it is important to remark, vindicated the right of the Begums to all the goods of the Zenana, and brought Decided by Mr. over a majority of the council to his "nl ufuie'El- opinion. The matter in dispute be- s""!^. ing thus adjusted, a treaty between the mother and son was formally entered into, and to which the English became parties, guaranteeing its faithful execution. In consideration of the money paid to him by the mother, the son agreed to re- lea.se all claim to the landed and remaining parts of the personal estate, left by his father ^^^ ronfirm- Sujah ul Dowlah to the princess his edtothemby widow. Whatever, therefore, might have been her title to this property before, her right, under this treaty and the guarantee, be- came as legal, as strong, and obligatory, as the laws of India, and the laws of nations, could pos- sibly make it. But, my Lords, notwithstanding the opinion which Mr. Hastings so strenuously supported in i WARREN HASTINGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 413 ouncil at Calcutta of the absolute right of Hastings' the princBss to all the property in the ]Ti\'eV(^ Zenana, yet when it became conven- ^unient. jgnt to his ncfarious purposes to dis- n\v- it, he, with an effrontery which has no ex- ample, declared that this recorded decision be- longed not to him, but to the majority of the council ! That, in short, being reduced to an in- efficient minority in the council, he did not con- sider himself as responsible for any of their acts, either of those he opposed or those he approved. My Lords, you are well acquainted with the na- ture of majorities and minorities ; but how shall I instance this new doctrine ? It is as if Mr. Burke, the great leader of this prosecution, should, some ten years hence, revile the mana- gers, and commend Mr. Hastings ! What, sir, might one of us exclaim to him, do you, who instigated the inquiry, who brought the charge against him, who impeached him, who convinced me, by your arguments, of his guilt, speak of Mr. Hastings in this plausive style ? Oh ! but sir, replies Mr. Burke, this was done in the House of Commons, where, at the time, I was one of an inefficient minority, and, consequently. I am not responsible for any measure, either those I op- posed or approved ! If, my Lords, at any future period, my honor- able friend should become so lost to truth, to honor, and consistenc}'', as to speak in this man- ner, what must be the public estimation of his character? Just such was the conduct of the prisoner in avowing that he did not consider himself responsible for the measures which he approved while controlled in the council by Gen- eral Clavering, Colonel Monson, and Mr. Fran- cis, the only halcyon season that India saw dur- ing his administration. But, my Lords, let it be observed that the claims of the Nabob to the treasures tense for thl of the Bejjums were, at this time, the wa.^*at'fimr only plea alleged for the seizure. passage of the These wcrc founded on a passafje of Koran. , Tr i • i • n the Koran, which is perpetually quot- ed, but never proved. Not a word was then mentioned of the strange rebellion which was afterwai-d conjured up, and of which the exist- ence and the notoriety w^ere equally a secret ! a disaffection which was at its height at the very moment when the Begums were dispens- ing their liberality to the Nabob, and exercising the greatest generosity to the English in dis- tress 1 a disturbance without its parallel in his- tory, which was raised by two women, carried on by eunuchs, and finally suppressed by an affi- davit / !^ No one, my Lords, can contemplate the seiz- Crueityofoom- urc of this treasure, with the attend- l'ob'"o°seize^the ^ut circumstanccs of aggravation, treasures. without being struck with horror at ^ The force of this sarcasm upon Mr. Impey and his affidavits will be better understood when the reader comes to Mr. Sheridan's examination of Hastings' second pretense for seizing the treasures, namely, that the Begums and their ministers had fomented a rebellion against the Nabob. the complicated wickedness of the transaction We have already seen the noblest heroism and magnanimity displayed by the mother Begum. It was she, my Lords, you will recollect, who extricated, by the most generous interposition, her husband Sujah Dowlah from the rigors of his fortune after the fatal battle of Buxar. She even saved her son, the reigning Nabob, from death, at the imminent hazard of her own life. She, also, as you know, gave to her son his throne. A son so preserved, and so befriended, Mr. Hastings did arm against his benefactress, and his mother. He invaded the rights of that prince, that he might compel him to violate the laws of nature, and the obligations of gratitude, by plundering his parent. Yes, my Lords, it was the prisoner who cruelly instigated the son against the mother. That mother, who had twice given life to her son, who had added to it a throne, was (incredible as it may appear), by the compulsion of that man at your bar, to whose guardianship she was bequeathed by a dying husband — by that man, who is wholly insensible to every obligation which sets bounds to his ra- pacity and his oppression, was she pillaged and undone ! But the son was not without his ex- cuse. In the moment of anguish, when bewail- ing his hapless condition, he exclaimed that it was the English who had driven him to the per- petration of such enormities. " It is they who have reduced me. They have converted me to their use. They have made me a slave, to com- pel me to become a monster." Let us now, my Lords, turn to the negotia- tions of Mr. Middleton with the Be- xi. .,„„,„»»» The guarantee gums in 1778, when the "discon- given to the tents of the superior Begum would estabiishlsher have induced her to leave the coun- '^'°'"' try, unless her authority was sanctioned and her property secured by the guarantee of the Com- pany. This guarantee the counsel of Mr. Hastings have thought it necessary to deny ; knowing that if the agreements with the elder Begum were proved, it would affix to their cli- ent the guilt of all the sufferings of the women of the Khord Mahal [dwelling of the female rela- 10 Early in 1778, the elder Begum became so much dissatisfied with her grandson's urgency for money, under the pressure of Mr. Hastings, that she medi- tated a withdrawal from his dominions, and a pil- grimage to Mecca. The English resident at Oude, Mr. Middleton, in common with the Nabob, was op- posed to her departure. She demanded, as the con- dition of remaining, that the Board at Calcutta should guarantee her property against the exactions of her grandson. This property, consisting chiefly of cer- tain ^'a^-Zu're.?, or grants of revenue, was given her by her son Sujah Dowlah, not merely for her own sup- port, but that of his numerous female relations, " the women of the Khord Mahal," spoken of below. Mr. Middleton represented to the Board at Calcutta that her claims were just. Whether a formal guarantee was given (as Mr. Sheridan attempts to show), is doubtful ; still, it is certain, as he proves, that the property of the Begum in her jaghircs was exempt ed from taxation by the Board, which was the fuU est admission of her riirhts. 414 MR. SHERIDAN AGAINST lives of the Nabob], the revenues for whose sup- port were secured by the same engagement. In treating this part of the subject, the principal difficulty arises from the uncertain evidence of Mr. Middleton, who, though concerned in the negotiation of four treaties, could not recollect affixing his signature to three out of that number ! It can, however, be shown, even by his evidence, that a treaty was signed in October, 1778, where- in the rights of the elder Begum were fully rec- ognized ; a provision secured for the women and children of the late Vizier in the Khord Mahal; and that these engagements received the fullest sanction of Mr. Hastings. These facts are, more- over, confirmed by the evidence of Mr. Purling, a gentleman who delivered himself fairly, and as having no foul secrets to conceal. Mr. Purling swears he transmitted copies of these engage- ments, in 1780, to Mr. Hastings at Calcutta; the answer returned w^as, "that, in arranging the taxes of the other districts, he should pass over the jaghires of the Begums." No notice was then taken of any impropriety in the transac- tions in 1778, nor any notice given of an intend- ed revocation of those engagements. In June, 1781, however, when General Clav- Meeting of Hast- cring and Colonel Monson were no bTalcimnt^''" ^ore, aud Mr. Francis had return- oV'liooooo wif ^^ ^° Europe, all the hoard and ar- made. ' year of coUcctcd evil burst out with- out restraint, and Mr. Hastings determined on his journey to the Upper Provinces. It was then, that, without adverting to intermediate transac- tions, he met with the Nabob A soph Dowlah at Chunar, and received from him the mysterious present of c€l 00,000. To form a proper idea of this transaction, it is only necessary to consid- er the respective situations of him who gave and of him who received this present. It was not given by the Nabob from the superflux of his w^ealth, nor in the abundance of his esteem for the man to whom it was presented. It was, on the contrary, a prodigal bounty, drawn from a country depopulated by the natural progress of British rapacity. It w^as after the country had felt still other calamities — it was after the angr}^ dispensations of Providence had, with a progress- ive severity of chastisement, visited the land w^ith a famine one year, and wuth a Colonel Hanney the next — it was after he, this Hanney, had re- turned to retrace the steps of his former ravages — it was after he and his voracious crew had come to plunder ruins which himself had made, and to glean from desolation the little that fam- ine had spared, or rapine overlooked ; then it was that this miserable bankrupt prince, marching through his country, besieged by the clamors of his starving subjects, who cried to him for pi'o- tection through their cages — meeting the curses of some of his subjects, and the prayers of oth- ers — with famine at his heels, and reproach fol- lowing him — then it was that this prince is rep- resented as exercising this act of prodigal boun- ty to the'^'crv man whom he here reproaches — to the very man whose policy had extinguished his power, and whose creatures had desolated his country. To talk of a fre«. ^ audacious and ridiculous to nan. tion. It was not a free-will gift, then ? Was it a bribe ? Or was it ^ I shall prove it was both — it was an act bribery and of rank extortion. The &. which marked this transaction is not the sm. est proof of its criminality. When Benaruu Pundit had, a short time before, made a present to the Company of a lac of rupees, Mr. Hast- ings, in his own language, deemed it " worthy the praise of being recorded." But in this in- stance, when ten times that sum was given, nei- ther Mr. Middleton nor the council were ac- quainted with the transaction, until Mr. Hast- ings, four months afterward, felt himself compell- ed to write an account of it to England ; and the intelligence returned thus circuitously to his friends in India ! It is peculiarly observable in this transaction, how much the distresses of the different parties were at variance. The first thing Mr. Hastings does is to leave Calcutta in order to go to the relief of the distressed Nabob. The second thing is to take one hundred thou- sand pounds fro7n that distressed Nabob, on ac- count of the distressed Company. The third thing is, to ask of the distressed Company this very same hundred thousand pounds on account of the distresses of Mr. Hastings ! There never were three distresses that seemed so little recon- cilable w4th one another. This money, the pris- oner alleges, w^as appropriated to the payment of the army. But here he is unguardedly con- tradicted by the testimony of his friend, Major Scott, who shows it was employed for no such purpose. My Lords, through all these windings of mysterious hypocrisy, and of artificial con- cealment, is it not easy to discern the sense of hidden guilt ?^^ III. Driven from every other hold, the prison- er is obliged to resort, as a justifica- piea of state tion of his enormities, to the stale pre- Necessity. text of State Necessity ! Of this last disguise, it is my duty to strip him. I will venture to say, my Lords, that no one instance of real ne cessity can be adduced. The necessity which the prisoner alleges listens to whispers for the purpose of crimination, and deals in rumor to prove its own existence. His a State Necessity ! No, my Lords, that imperial tyrant, State Ncces- 11 The officers of the East India Company were forbidden by its laws to receive presents ; but Mr. Hastings did accept the offered gift from Asoph Dowlah. " The Nabob," says Mr. Mill, " was totally unprovided with the money ; the gift could be ten- dered only in bills, which were drawn on one of the great bankers of the country. As the intention of concealing the transaction should not be imputed to Mr. Hastings unless as far as evidence appears, so in this case the disclosure can not be imputed as a virtue, since no prudent man would have risked the chance of discovery which the publicity of a bank- er's transactions implied. Mr. Hastings informed the Directors of what he had received, in a letter dated January 20, 1782, ayid in very 'plain terms re- quested their permission to make the money his otvn." — British India., iv., 409. 1788.] WARREN HASTINGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 415 sity, is yet a generous de.spot — bold in his de- meanor, rapid in his decisions, though terrible in his grasp. What he does, my Lords, he dares avow ; and avowing, scorns any other justifica- tion, than the high motives that placed the iron scepter in his hand. Even where its rigors are suffered, its apology is also known ; and men learn to consider it in its true light, as a power which turns occasionally aside from just govern- ment, when its exercise is calculated to prevent greater evils than it occasions. But a quibbling, prevaricating necessity, which tries to steal a pitiful justification from whispered accusations and fabricated rumors — no, my Lords, that is 710 State Necessity ! Tear off the mask, and you see coarse, vulgar avarice lurking under the dis- guise. The State Necessity of JNIr. Hastings is a juggle. It is a being that prowls in the dark. It is to be traced in the ravages which it com- mits, but never in benefits conferred or evils pre- vented. I can conceive justifiable occasions for the exercise even of outrage, where high public interests demand the sacrifice of private right. If any great man, in bearing the arms of his country — if an}^ admii'al, carrying the vengeance and the glory of Britain to distant coasts, should be driven to some rash acts of violence, in order, perhaps, to give food to those who are shedding their blood for their country — there is a State Necessity in such a case, gi-and, magnanimous, and all-commanding, which goes hand in hand with honor, if not with use ! If any great gen- eral, defending some fortress, barren, perhaps, itself, but a pledge of the pride and power of Britain — if such a man, fixed like an imperial eagle on the summit of his rock, should strip its sides of the verdure and foliage with which it might be clothed, while covered on the top with that cloud from which he was pouring down his thunders on the foe — would he be brought by the House of Commons to your bar?^-^ No, my Lords, never would his grateful and admiring countrymen think of questioning actions which, though accompanied by private wrong, yet were warranted by real neces.sity. But is the State Necessity which is pleaded by the prisoner, in defense of his conduct, of this description? I challenge him to produce a single instance in which any of his private acts were productive of public advantage, or averted impending evil. IV. We come now to the treaty of Chunar, Treaty of chu- which prcccdcd the acceptance of the ber/of life Be: bribe to which wc havc already allud- gums. ed. This transaction, my Lords, had its beginning in corruption, its continuance in fraud, and its end in violence. The first proposi- tion of the Nabob was, that our army should be removed and all the English be recalled from his dominions. He declared, to use his own lan- guage, that " the English are the bane and ruin of my affairs. Leave my country to myself, and all w^ill yet be I'ecovered." He was aware, my ^- This glowing picture was no doubt suggested by Sir Gilbert Elliot's noble defense of the Ilock of Gibraltar a few years before. Lords, that though their predecessors had ex- hausted his revenue ; though they had shaken the tree till nothing remained upon its leafless branches, yet that a new flight was upon the wing to watch the first buddings of its prosperi- ty, and to nip every promise of future luxuriance. To the demands of the Nabob, Mr. Hastings finally acceded. The bribe was the price of his acquiescence. But with the usual per- Bad faith of fidy of the prisoner, this condition of ^^'- Hastings, the treaty never was performed. You will rec- ollect, my Lords, that ]Mr. ]\Iiddleton was asked whether the orders which were pretended to be given for the removal of the English were, in any instance, carried into effect? To this ques- tion he refused at fir-st to answer, as tending to criminate himself. But when his objection was overruled, and it was decided that he should an- swer, so much was he agitated that he lost all memory. It turned out, however, by an amend- ed recollection, that he never received any direct order from Mr. Hastings. But, my Lords, who can believe that a direct order is necessary when Mr. Hastings wants the services of Mr. Middle- ton ? Rely upon it, a hint is sufllcient to this servile dependent and obsequious parasite. Mr. Hastings has only to turn his eije toward him — that eye at whose scowl princes turn pale — and his wishes are obeyed. But, my Lords, this is not the only instance in which the Nabob was duped by the bad faith of the prisoner. In the agreement relative to the resumption of the jaghircs, the prince had demanded and obtained leave to resume those of certain individuals ; but ]Mr. Hastings, knowing that there were some favorites of the Nabob whom he could not be brought to dispossess, defeated the pei-mission, without the least regard to the existing stipulations to the contrary, by making the order general. Such, my Lords, is the conduct of which Mr. Hastings is capable, not in the moment of cold or crafty policy, but in the hour of confidence, and during the effervescence of his gratitude for a favor received ! Thus did he betray the man to whose liberality he stood indebted. Even the gratitude, my Lords, of the prisoner seems perilous ; for we behold here the danger which actually awaited the return he made to an effusion of generosity ! The fact is, my Lords, as appears from the clearest evidence, that when Mr. Hast- „^. ,]^(^n<3s it ings left Calcutta he had two resources H- prf-endiag m view, Benares and Oude. The first gums had re- having failed him, in consequence of the unexpected insurrection which terminated, unhappily for him, in the capture of Bcdjigar, he turned his attention to Oude, previously, however, desolating the former pi'ovince, which he was un- able to pillage, destroying and cutting otfthe very sources of life. Thus frustrated in his original design, the genius of the prisoner, ever fertile in expedients, fixed itself on the treasures of Jjhe Begums, and now devised, as an apolog^fifcr the signal act of cruelty and rapacity which he was meditatinir, the memorable rebellion ; and, to 416 MR. SHERIDAN AGAINST [1788 substantiate the participation of these unfortu- nate princesses in it, he dispatched the Chief Justice of India to collect materials. ^^ The conduct of Sir Elijah Impey in this busi- „ , , . ness, with all deference to the pro- Mr. Impey Ins ' ^ . agent for collect- test which he has entered against ing evidence. ^^.^^ spokcn of in a place where he can not have the privilege of replying, I do not think ought to be passed over without ani- madversion. Not that I mean to say any thing harsh of this elevated character, who was select- ed to bear forth and to administer to India the blessings of English jurisprudence. I w^ill not question either his feebleness of memory, or dis- pute in any respect the convenient doctrine which he has set up in his vindication, "that what he ought to have done it is likely he actu- ally did perform." I have always thought, my Lords, that the appointment of the Chief Justice to so low and nefarious an office as that in which he was employed is one of the strongest aggra- vations of Mr. Hastings' guilt. That an officer, the purity and luster of whose character should be maintained even in the most domestic retire- ment; that he, who, if consulting the dignity of British justice, ought to have continued as sta- tionary as his court at Calcutta ; that such an exalted character, I repeat, as the Chief Justice of India, should have been forced on a circuit of five hundred miles for the purpose of transacting such a business, was a degradation without ex- ample, and a deviation from propriety which has no apology. But, my Lords, this is, in some de- gree, a question which is to be abstracted for the consideration of those who adorn and illumine the seats of justice in Britain, and the rectitude of whose deportment precludes the necessity of any farther observation on so opposite a conduct. The manner, my Lords, in which Sir Elijah His appearance If"pey delivered his evidence de- as witness be- sCrVCS, alsO, VOUr attention. He ad- fore the Lords. . ' ' •' ... mitted, you will recollect, that, m giv- ing it, he never answered without looking equally to the probability and the fact in question. Some- times he allowed cii'cumstances of which he said ^3 In regard to this pretended rebellion in favor of Cheyte Sing of Benares, Mr. Mill has the following re- marks as the result of subsequent impartial investi- gation. "The insurrection at Benares happened on the 16th of August, and the treaty was signed at Chu- nar on the 19th of September. The Begums, who had first to hear of the insurrection at Benares [some hundred miles off], and then spread disaffection throughout a great kingdom, had, therefore, little time for the contraction of guilt. And what was the proof upon the strength of which the Begums were selected for a singular and aggravated punishment ? No direct proof whatever. Hardly an attempt is made to prove any thing except a rumor. Mr. Hastings' friends are produced in great numbers to say that they heard a rmnor ! But before a just judgment can be pronounced, the party accused should be heard in defense. Was this justice af- forded to the Begums ? Not a tittle. Mr. Hastings pronoiu^ed judgment, and sent his instrument, the Nabolj^o inflict punishment, in the first place. Some time after this was done, he proceeded to collect ev- idence!" — British India, iv., 381-2. he had no recollection beyond the mere "probabil- ity" that they had taken place. By consulting in this manner what was " probable" and the contra- ry, he may certainly have corrected his memory at times. I am, at all events, content to accept of this mode of giving his testimony, provided that the converse of the proposition has also a place ; and that where a circumstance is improbable., a similar degree of credit may be subtracted from, the testimony of the witness. Five times in the House of Commons, and twice in this court, for instance, has Sir Elijah Impey borne testimony that a rebellion was raging at Fyzabad [the abode of the Begums], at the period of his jour- ney to Lucknow [the residence of the Nabob]. Yet, on the eighth examination, he contradicted all the former, and declared that what he meant was, that the rebellion had been raging, and the country was then in some degree restored to quiet. The reasons he assigned for the former errors were, that he had forgotten a letter re- ceived from Mr. Hastings, informing him that the rebellion was quelled, and that he had also forgotten his own proposition of traveling through Fyzabad to Lucknow ! With respect to the let- ter, nothing can be said, as it is not in evidence ; but the other observation can scarcely be admit- ted when it is recollected that, in the House of Commons, Sir Elijah Impey declared that it was his proposal to travel through Fyzabad, which had originally brought forth the intelligence that the way was obstructed by the rebellion, and that in consequence of it he altered his route and went by the way of lUahabad. But what is yet more singular is, that on his return he again would have come by the way of Fyzabad, if he had not been once more informed of the danger ; so that, had it not been for these friendly informations, the Chief Justice would have run plump into the very focus of the rebellion ! These, my Lords, are the pretexts by which the fiction of a rebellion was endeavored to be forced on the public credulity ; but the trick is now discovered, and the conti'iver and the exec- uter are alike exposed to the scorn and derision of the world. There are two circumstances here which are worthy of remark. The first is, that x^probabii- Sir Elijah Impey, when charged with 'ties in his ■^ t J ^ _ _ » testimony. SO dangerous a commission as that of procuring evidence to prove that the Begums had meditated the expulsion of the Nabob from the throne, and the English from Bengal, twice intended to pass through the city of their resi- dence. But, my Lords, this giddy chief justice disregards business. He wants to sec the coun- try ! Like some innocent school-boy, he takes the primrose path, and amuses himself as he goes ! He thinks not that his errand is in danger and death, and that his party of pleasure ends in load- ing others with irons. When at Lucknow, he never mentions the affidavits to the Nabob. No ! He is too polite. Nor, from the same courtesy, to Mr. Hastings. He is, indeed, a master of ceremonies in justice ! When examined, the witness sarcastically re- 1788.] WARREN HASTINGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 417 marked " that there must have been a sworn in- terpreter, from the looks of the manager." How I looked, Heaven knows ! but such a physiogno- mist there is no escaping. He sees a sworn in- terpreter in my looks ! He sees the manner of taking an oath in my looks ! He sees the Basin of the Ganges in ray looks ! As for himself, he looks only at the tops and bottoms of affidavits ! In seven years he takes care never to look at these swearings ; but when he does examine them, he knoivs less than before !'•* The other circumstance, my Lords, to which I have alluded, is, that it is fair to presume that Sir Elijah Impey was dissuaded by Mr. Hast- ings and Middleton from passing by the way of Fyzabad, as they well knew that if he approached the Begums he would be convinced by their re- ception of him as the friend of the Governor Gen- eral, that nothing could be more foreign fi'cm the truth than their suspected disaffection. Neither should it escape your notice, my Lords, that while he was taking evidence at Lucknow in the face of day, in support of the charge cf re- bellion against the princesses, the Chief Justice heard not a word either from the Nabob or his minister, though he frequently conversed with both, of an}' treasonable machinations or plot- tings ! Equally unaccountable does it appear, that Sir Elijah Impey, who advised the taking of these affidavits for the safety of the prisoner at your bar, did not read them at the time to see whether or not they were adequate to this pur- pose ! At length, it seems, he did read the affidavits, but not till after having declared on oath that he thought it unnecessary. To this he acknowl- edged he was induced " by having been misled by one of the managers on the part of the Covn- mons, who, by looking at a bock which he held in his hand, had entrapped him to own that a sworn interpreter was present when he received these affidavits, and that he was perfectly satis- fied with his conduct on the occasion." Now. my Lords, how I, by merely looking into a book, could intimate the presence of an inter- '* Au examinatiou of the Minutes of Evidence at the trial will show that Mr. Sheridan was fully just- ified in this severe treatment of Impey. The latter acknowledged that he went from Benares, where this business was concerted between him and Mr. Hastings, to Lucknow, the capital of Oude, for the express purpose of taking the affidavits, though his jurisdiction did not extend to the province of Oude. "What the affidavits contained," he says, "I did not know ; nor do I know at present, for I have never read them." He adds, that " he did not know wlccther the persons who swore to them had ever read them." At the time of taking the affidavits of the natives, not so much as a sworn interpreter was present, as he admitted, though he endeavored to turn oiF the matter with a jest on Mr. Sheridan's "looks." See Minutes of Evidence, page 622 to 651. Mr. Mill remarks on this point, " The exam- ination of Sir Elijah Impey, upon the subject of affi- davits, discloses a curious scene, in which it appears that one object alone was in view, namely, that of getting support to any allegations which Mr. Hast- ings had set up." — British India, iv., 383. Dd preter, and could also look the satisfaction con- ceived by tiie Chief Justice on the occasion, when it clearly appears by the evidence that there was 110 interpreter present, are points which I believe he alone can explain ! I will concede to the witness, as he seems de- sirous it should be done, that he did not strictly attend to form when taking these affidavits. I will admit that he merely directed the Bible to be offered to the whites, and the Koran to the blacks, and packed up their depositions in his wallet without any examination. Or, I will ad- mit that he glanced them over in India, having previously cut cff" all communication between his eye and his mind, so that nothing was transferred from the one to the other. Extraordinary as these ciix-umstances certainly are, I will, never- theless, admit them all ; or if it be preferred by the prisoner, I will admit that the affidavits were legally and properly taken ; for, in whatever light they may be received, I will prove that they are not sufficient to sustain a single allegation of criminality against those they were designed to inculpate. But it is to these documents, my Lords, such as they are, that the defense of the prisoner is principally confided ; and on the degree of re- spect which may be given to them by your Lord- ships does the event of this trial materially de- pend. Considered, therefore, in this view, I shall presently solicit your Lordships' atten- Antecedent tion, while I examine them at some presumptions 11 1-1 T-i 1 against the length, and with some care. But be- chargesiathe fore I enter into the analysis of the testimony, permit me to remind the court that the charge against the princesses of Oude, to substantiate which these affidavits wxre taken, consisted originally of two allegations. They were accused of a uniform spirit of hostility to the British government^ £is well as the overt act of rebellion. But, my Lords, the first part of the chai-ge the counsel for the prisoner has been compelled to abandon, not being able to get one fact out of the whole farrago of these depositions to support it. When the half of an accusation is thus desert- ed for the want of proof, is it not natural for us to suspect the whole ? I do not say that it ab- solutely shows the falsity of it, nor do I mean to employ such an argument ; but I maintain that it should influence the mind so far as to malce it curious and severely inquisitive into the other branch of the charge, and to render it distrust- ful of its ti-uth. But in this particular case the court have an additional motive for jealousy and suspicion. It will not escape the recollection of your Lord- ships, in weighing the validity of the allegation which now remains to be considered, namely, " that the Begums influenced the jaghiredars,'* and excited the discontents in Oude," what were the circumstances in which it arose, and by , whom it was preferred. You will bear in mind, ' ^^ Persons holding jaghires. 418 Mil. SHERIDAN AGAINST [1788 my Lords, that it ajipcars in evidence that Mr. [ Hai>tin • I f r-. Mr. Ha'lins*' ance to Cheyte Sing, Rajah ol Ben- diar^^s Hgainst the Bp£1iiiis. ares. ^ 2. That they encouraged and assi.sted the jng. hiredars to resist the resumption of the jaghires. And, 3. That they were the principal movers of all the commotions in Oude. These, my Lords, are the three allegations that the affidavits are to sustain, and which are accompanied with the general charge that the Begums were in rebellion. (1.) Of the rebellion here pretended, I can not, my Lords, find a trace. With the (i.) ch.-.r;;e care and indefatigable industry of an an- "' '^'^''''""'"• tiquary, hunting for some precious vestige wlii(;h is to decide the truth of his speculations, have I searched for the evidence of it. Though we have heard it spoken of with as much certainty as the one which happened in Scotland in the year 1745, not the slightest appearance of it can I di.scover. I am unable to ascertain either the time when, or the place where it raged. Xn army has been seen to collect; no battle to be fought: no blood to be spilt. It was a rebellion which had for its object the destruction of no human creature but those who planned it — it was a rebellion which, accordinii to Mr. Middle- ton's expression, no man. either horse or foot, ever marched to quell ! The Chief Justice was the only one who took the field against it. The force against wiiich it was raised instantly with- dreiv to give it elbow-room ; and evfMi then, it was a rebellion which perversely showed it>clf 420 MR. SHERIDAN AGAINST [1788. in acts of hospitaliiy to the Nabob whom it v/as to dethrone, and to the English whom it was to extirpate ! Beginning in nothings it continued without raging, and ended as it originated ! If, my Lords, rebellions of this mysterious nature can happen, it is time to look about us. ^Vho can say that one does not now exist which menaces our safety ? Perhaps at the very mo- ment I am speaking one ravages our city ! Per- haps it may be lying ;jcrrfi(e in a neighboring vil- lage ! Perhaps, like the ostentatious encamp- ment which has given celebrity to Brentford and Ealing, it may have fixed its quarters at Ham- mersmith or Islington, ready to pour down its violence at the approach of night ! But, my Lords, let us endeavor to fix the time when this horrid rebellion occurred. To the first of August, 1781, it is clear there w^as none. At this date letters were I'cceived from Colo- nel Morgan, the commanding officer of Oude, who is silent on the subject. On the 27th of Septem-ber, he gives an account of some insur- rections at Lucknow^ the seat of the court, but of none at Fyzabad, where the Begums resided. Nearly of the same date there is a letter from Major Hannay, then at the Rajah's court, in which the .state of his affairs are described, but no suspicion expressed of his being assisted by the Begums. At this time, therefore, there was certainly no rebellion or disaffection displayed. Nay, we find, on the contrary, the Nabob going to visit his mother, the very princess who is charged with revolting against his authority. But, my Lords, it is alleged that he was attended by two thou- sand horse, and the inference is drawn by the counsel of the prisoner that he took this military force to quell the insurrection; to confirm which they appealed to Mr. Middleton, who, being ask- ed whether these ti-oops were well appointed, caught in an instant a gleam of martial 7nemo- ry,^'^ and answered in the affirmative. Unfor- tunately, however, for the martial memory cf ]Mr. Middleton, it is stated by Captain Edwards, who was with the Nabob as his aid-de-camp, that there w^ere not more than five or six hundred horse, and these so bad and miserably equipped that they were unable to keep up with him, so that very few were near his person or within the reach of his command. That of these few, the most were mutinous from being ill paid, and were rather disposed to promote than put down any insurrection. But, my Lords, I will concede to the prisoner the full amount of military force for which he anxiously contends. I will allow the whole two thousand cavalry to enter in a gallop into the very city of Fyzabad. For, has not Captain Edwards proved that they were only the usual guard of the Nabob ? Has not, more- over, Mr. Middleton himself declared, rather in- discreetly, I confess, "that it is the constant custom of the princes of India to travel with a ^' This alludes to Mr. Middleton having declared, on a fonncr occasion, that he had no memory for military affairs. great equipage, and that it would be considered an unpardonable disrespect to the person visited were they to come unescorted." This, my Lords, is really the truth. The Indian princes never perform a journey without a splendid retinue. The habits of the East r(>quire ostentation and parade. They do not, as the princes of Europe — who, sometimes from one motive and some- times from another, at times from political views and at times from curiosity, travel, some to France to learn manners, and others to England to learn liberty — choose to be relieved from the pomps of state and the drudgery of equipage. But, my Lords, perhaps, in this instance, the Na- bob, wishing to adapt himself to the service on which he was going, did dispense with his usual style. Hearing of a rebellion without an army, he may have thought that it could only, with propriety, be attacked by a prince without a guard! It has also been contended, my Lords, in proof of this rebellion, that one thousand Nudgies were raised at Fyzabad and sent to the assistance of Cheyte Sing. It is deemed a matter of no consequence that the officer second in command to the Rajah [Cheyte Sing], has positively sworn that these troops came from Lucknow, and not from Fyza- bad.^^ This the prisoner wishes to have con- sidered as only the trifling mistake of the name of one capital for another. But he has found it more difficult to get over the fact which has been attested by the same witness, that the troops were of a different description from those in the service of the Begums, being matchlock^ and not swords men. It is, therefore, manifest that the troops M^ere not furnished by the prin- cesses, and it seems highly probable that they did come from Lucknow; not that they were sent by the Nabob, but by some of the powerful jaghircdars who have uniformly avowed an aver- sion to the English. It has been more than once mentioned, by some of the witnesses, my Lords, that Sabid Ally, the younger son of the Bow [younger] Begum, w^as deeply and criminally concerned in these trans- actions. Why was he, therefore, permitted to escape with impunity? To this question Sir Elijah Impey gave a very satisfactory answer, when he informed us that the young man was miserably poor, and a bankrupt. Here is a com- plete solution of the enigma. There never en- ters into the mind of Mr. Hastings a suspicion of treason where there is no treasure ! Sabid Ally found, therefore, protection in his poverty, and safety in his insolvency. My Lords, the political sagacity of Mr. Hastings exhibits the converse of the doctrine which the experience of history has established. Hitherto it has gen- erally been deemed that the possession of prop- erty attaches a person to the country which con- tains it, and makes him cautious how he hazards any enterprise which might be productive of in- 18 That is, tliey came from the residence of the Nabob, not of the Begums. 178S.J WAIUIEN HAyTJNGS ON THE BEGUM CHARGE. 421 novation, or draw upon him the suspicion or dis- pleasure of government ; and that, on the con- trar}^, the needy, having no permanent stake, are alwa3^s desperate, and easily seduced into com- motions which promise any change ; but, my Lords, the prisoner, inverting this doctrine, has, in the true spirit of rapacity and speculation which belongs to him, never failed to recognize loyalty in watit^ and to discern treason in wealth I Allow me now, my Lords, to lay before you Proofs of some of those proofs which we have fideiit^^"™'^ collected of the steady friendship and good dispositions of the Begums, to the English interests. I have in my hands a letter from one of them, which I will read, complain- ing of the cruel and unjust suspicions that were entertained of her fidelity. ^^ Your Lordships must perceive the extraordinary energy which the plain and simple language of truth gives to her representations. Her complaints are elo- quence ; her supplications, persuasion ; her re- monstrances, conviction. I call, moreover, the attention of the court to Case of Cap- the interference of the Bov/ [younger] tain Gordon. Beguni in behalf of Captain Gordon, b}^ which his life was saved, at a moment when, 19 The following is the letter: "The disturbances of Colonel Haniiay and Mr. Gordon were made a pretense for seizing my jaghire. The state of the matter is this : When Colonel Hannay was by Mr. Hastings ordered to march to Benares, during the troubles of Cheyte Sing, the Colonel, zoho had plun- dered the whole country, was incapable of proceed- ing, from the union of thousands of Zemindars, who had seized this favorable opportunity . They har- assed Mr. Gordon near Junivard, and the Zemin- dars of that place and Acherpore opposed bis march from thence, till be arrived near Saunda. As the Sauiida Nutta, from its overflowing, was difficult to cross without a boat, Mr. Gordon sent to the Fouz- dar (Governor) to supply him. He replied, that the boats were all in the river, but would assist him, ac- cording to orders, as soon as possible. Mr. Gordon's situation would not admit of his waiting; he forded the Nutta upon his elephant, and was hospitably received and entertained by the Fouzdar for six days. In the mean time, a letter was received by me from Colonel Hannay, desiring me to escort Mr. Gordon to Fyzabad. As my friendship for the En- glish was always sincere, I readily complied, and sent some companies of Nejeebs to escort Mr. Gor- don and all his effects to Fyzabad; where, having provided for bis entertainment, I effected his junc- tion with Colonel Hannay. Tlie letters of thanks re- ceived from both these gentlemen, upon this occa- sion, are still hi my possession, copies of which I gave in charge to Major Gilpin, to be delivered to Mr. Middleton, that be might forward them to the Governor General. To be brief, those who have loaded me with accusations are now clearly con- victed of falsehood; but is it not extraordinary that, notwithstanding the justness of my cause, nobody relieves my misfortunes ! My prayers have been constantly offered to Heaven for your arrival. Re- port has announced it, for which reason I have taken up the pen, and request you will not place implicit confidence in my accusers, but, weighing in the scale of justice their falsehood and my representations, you will exert your influence in putting a period to the misfortunes with which I am overwhelmed." if the princesses wished to strike a blow against the Engli.sh, they might have done it with suc- cess. This man, whose life was thus preserved, and who, in the first burst of the natural feelings of his heart, poured forth his grateful acknov/1- edgments of the obligation, afterward became the instrument of the destruction of his protectress. I will produce the letter wherein he thanks her for her interference, and confesses that he owes his life to her bounty .^° It has been asked, with an air of some tri- umph, why Captain Gordon was not called to the bar ? Why call him to the bar ? Would he not, as he has done in his affidavit, suppress the portion of testimony we require ? I trust that he may never be brought to swear in this case till he becomes sensible of his guilt, and feels an ardent, contrite zeal to do justice to his benefactress, and to render her the most ample atonement for the injuries which she has sus- tained by his ingratitude and wickedness. The conduct of Captain Gordon, in this instance, is so astonishingly depraved, that I confess I am in some degree disposed to incredulit3\ I can scarcely believe it possible that, after having re- peatedly acknowledged that he owed his life and liberty to her beneficent hand, he could so far forget these obligations as spontaneously, and of his own free will, to come forward, and expend a part of that breath which she had preserved, in an affidavit by which her ruin was to be effected ! M}^ knowledge of the human heart will hardly permit me to think that any rational being could deliberately commit an act of such wanton atroc- ity. I must imagine that there has been some scandalous deception ; that, led on by Mr. Mid- dleton, he made his deposition, ignorant to what purpose it would be applied. Every feeling of humanity recoils at the transaction viewed in any other light. It is incredible, that any intel- ligent person could be capable of standing up in the presence of God, and of exclaiming, " To yon, my benevolent friend, the breath I now draw, next to Heaven, I owe to you. My existence is an emanation from your bounty. I am indebted to you be3^ond all possibility of return, and there- fore my gratitude shall be your destruction .'" If, my Loi-ds, if I am right in my conjecture, that Captain Gordon v/as thus seduced into the overthrow of his benefactress, I hope he will pre- sent himself at your bar, and, by stating the im- position which was practiced upon him, vindicate his own character, and that of human nature, from this foul imputation. 20 Mr. Sheridan read the following letter of Colonel Gordon : " Begum Saib, of exalted dignity and gen- erosity, &c., whom God preserve." After presenting the usual compliments of servi- tude, &c., in the customary manner, my address is presented. " Your gracious letter, in answer to the petition of your servant from Goondab, exalted me. From the contents 1 became unspeakably impressed with the honor it conferred. May the Almighty pro- tect that royal purity, and bestow happiness, in- crease of wealth, and prosperity. The welfare of your servant is entirely owing to your favor and be- nevolence,