A LETTER, &c.

A SPEECH which has been printed in ſeveral of the Britiſh and New-York News-papers, as coming from your Lordſhip, in anſwer to one from the Duke of Richmond of the 10th of July laſt, con⯑tains expreſſions and opinions ſo new and ſingular, and ſo enveloped in myſterious reaſoning, that I addreſs this publication to you, for the purpoſe of giving them a free and candid examination. The ſpeech I allude to is in theſe words:

[2] ‘HIS Lordſhip ſaid, it had been men⯑tioned in another place, that he had been guilty of inconſiſtence. To clear himſelf of this, he aſſerted that he ſtill held the ſame principles in reſpect to American In⯑dependence, which he at firſt imbibed. He had been, and yet was of opinion, whenever the Parliament of Great Britain acknowledges that point, the ſun of En⯑gland's glory is ſet for ever. Such were the ſentiments he poſſeſſed on a former day, and ſuch the ſentiments he conti⯑nued to hold at this hour. It was the opinion of Lord Chatham, as well as many able ſtateſmen. Other noble Lords, how⯑ever, think differently; and as the majority of the Cabinet ſupport them, he acquieſced in the meaſure, diſſenting from the idea; and the point is ſettled for bringing the mat⯑ter into the full diſcuſſion of Parliament, where it will be candidly, fairly, and im⯑partially [3]debated. The independence of America would end in the ruin of En⯑gland; and that a peace patched up with France would give that proud enemy the means of yet trampling on this country. The ſun of England's glory he wiſhed not to ſee ſet for ever; he looked for a ſpark at leaſt to be left, which might in time light us up to a new day. But if Independence was to be granted, if Parliament deem⯑ed that meaſure prudent, he foreſaw in his own mind that England was undone. He wiſhed to God that he had been deputed to Congreſs, that he might plead the cauſe of that country as well as of this, and that he might exerciſe whatever powers he poſ⯑ſeſſed, as an orator, to ſave both from ruin, in a conviction to Congreſs, that, if their Independence was ſigned, their liberties were gone for ever.’

[4]PEACE, his Lordſhip added was a de⯑ſirable object, but it muſt be an honour⯑able peace, and not an humiliating one, dictated by France, or inſiſted on by Ame⯑rica. It was very true, this kingdom was not in a flouriſhing ſtate, it was impo⯑veriſhed by war. But if we were not rich, it was evident that France was poor. If we were ſtraitened in our finances, the enemy were exhauſted in their reſour⯑ces. This was a great empire; it a⯑bounded with brave men, who were able and willing to fight in a common cauſe; the language of humiliation ſhould not therefore be the language of Great Britain. His Lordſhip ſaid, that he was not aſhamed nor afraid of thoſe expreſſions going to America. There were numbers, great numbers there, who were of the ſame way of thinking, in reſpect to that country [5]being dependent on this, and who, with his Lordſhip, perceived ruin and Indepen⯑dence linked together.

THUS far the ſpeech; on which I remark, —That his Lordſhip is a total ſtranger to the mind and ſentiments of America; that he has wrapped himſelf up in fond deluſion that ſomething leſs than Independence may, under his Adminiſtration, be accepted; and he wiſhes himſelf ſent to Congreſs, to prove the moſt extraordinary of all doctrines, which is, that INDEPENDENCE, the ſublimeſt of all human conditions, is loſs of liberty.

IN anſwer to which we may ſay, that in order to know what the contrary word DE⯑PENDENCE means, we have only to look back to thoſe years of ſevere humiliation, when the mildeſt of all petitions could obtain no other notice than the haughtieſt of all in⯑ſults: [6]and when the baſe terms of uncon⯑ditional ſubmiſſion were demanded, or un⯑diſtinguiſhable deſtruction threatened. It is nothing to us that the Miniſtry have been changed, for they may be changed again. The guilt of Government is the crime of a whole country; and the nation that can, though but for a moment, think and act as England has done, can never afterwards be believed or truſted. There are caſes in which it is as impoſſible to reſtore character to life, as it is to recover the dead. It is a phoenix that can expire but once, and from whoſe aſhes there is no reſurrection. Some offences are of ſuch a ſlight compoſition, that they reach no further than the temper, and are created or cured by a thought. But the ſin of England has ſtruck the heart of America, and nature has not left it in our power to ſay we can forgive.

[7]YOUR Lordſhip wiſhes for an opportunity to plead before Congreſs the cauſe of England and America, and to ſave, as you ſay, both from ruin.

THAT the country, which, for more than ſeven years, has ſought our deſtruction, ſhould now cringe to ſolicit our protection, is adding the wretchedneſs of diſgrace to the miſery of diſappointment; and if England has the leaſt ſpark of ſuppoſed honour left, that ſpark muſt be darkened by aſking, and extinguiſhed by receiving, the ſmalleſt fa⯑vour from America: For the criminal who owes his life to the grace and mercy of the injured, is more executed by living than he who dies.

BUT a thouſand pleadings, even from your Lordſhip, can have no effect. Honor, in⯑tereſt, and every ſenſation of the heart would plead againſt you. We are a people who [8]think not as you think; and what is equally true, you cannot feel as we feel. The ſitua⯑tions of the two countries are exceedingly different. We have been the ſeat of war: You have ſeen nothing of it. The moſt wanton deſtruction has been committed in our ſight; the moſt inſolent barbarity has been acted on our feelings. We can look round and ſee the remains of burnt and de⯑ſtroyed houſes, once the fair fruit of hard induſtry, and now the ſtriking monuments of Britiſh brutality. We walk over the dead whom we loved, in every part of America, and remember by whom they fell. There is ſcarcely a village but brings to life ſome melancholy thought, and reminds us of what we have ſuffered, and of thoſe we have loſt by the brutiſhneſs of Britain. A thouſand images ariſe to us, which, from ſituation, you cannot ſee, and are accompa⯑nied [9]by as many ideas which you cannot know; and therefore your ſuppoſed ſyſtem of reaſoning would apply to nothing, and all your expectations die of themſelves.

THE queſtion, whether England ſhall ac⯑cede to the Independence of America, and which your Lordſhip ſays is to undergo a par⯑liamentary diſcuſſion, is ſo very ſimple, and compoſed of ſo few caſes, that it ſcarcely needs a debate.

IT is the only way out of an expenſive and ruinous war, which has now no object, and without which acknowledgement there can be no peace.

BUT your Lordſhip ſays, "The ſun of Great-Britain will ſet whenever ſhe acknow⯑ledges the Independence of America."— [10]Whereas the metaphor would have been ſtrictly juſt to have left the ſun wholly out of the figure, and have aſcribed her not ac⯑knowledging it to the influence of the moon.

BUT the expreſſion, if true, is the greateſt confeſſion of diſgrace that could be made, and furniſhes America with the higheſt no⯑tions of ſovereign independent importance. Mr. Wedderburne, about the year 1776, made uſe of an idea of much the ſame kind. — ‘Relinquiſh America! ſays he: What is it but to deſire a giant to ſhrink ſpontaneouſly into a dwarf.’

ALAS! are thoſe people who call them⯑ſelves Engliſhmen, of ſo little internal conſe⯑quence, that when America is gone, or ſhuts her eyes upon them, their ſun is ſet, they [11]can ſhine no more, but grope about in ob⯑ſcurity, and contract into inſignificant ani⯑mals? Was America, then, the giant of the empire, and England only her dwarf in waiting? Is the caſe ſo ſtrangely altered, that thoſe who once thought we could not live without them, now declare they cannot exiſt without us? Will they tell to the world, and that from their firſt Miniſter of State, that America is their all in all; that it is by her importance only they can live, and breathe, and have a being? Will they, who threatened to bring us to their feet, now caſt themſelves at ours, and own that without us they are not a nation? Are they become ſo unqualified to debate on Independence, that they have loſt all idea of it in themſelves, and are call⯑ing to the rocks and mountains of America to cover their inſignificance? Or, if America is loſt, is it manly to ſob over it like a child [12]for its rattle, and invite the laughter of the world, by declarations of diſgrace? Surely, the more conſiſtent conduct would be, to bear it without complaint; and to ſhew that England, without America, can preſerve her Independence, and a ſuitable rank with other European Powers. You were not contented while you had her, and to weep for her now is childiſh.

BUT Lord Shelburne thinks that ſome⯑thing may yet be done. What that ſome⯑thing is, or how it is to be accompliſhed, is a matter in obſcurity. By arms there is no hope. The experience of nearly eight years, with the expence of an hundred million pounds ſterling, and the loſs of two armies, muſt poſitively decide that point. Beſides, the Britiſh have loſt their intereſt in America with the diſaffected. Every part of it has [13]been tried. There is no new ſcene left for deluſion: and the thouſands who have been ruined by adhering to them, and have now to quit the ſettlements they had acquired, and be conveyed like tranſports to cultivate the deſarts of Auguſtine and Nova Scotia, has put an end to all further expections of aid.

IF you caſt your eyes on the people of England, what have they to conſole them⯑ſelves with for the millions expended; or what encouragement is there left to continue throwing good money after bad? America can carry on the war for ten years longer, and all the charges of government included, for leſs than you can defray the charges of war and government for one year. And I, who know both countries, know well, that the people of America can afford to pay their [14]ſhare of the expence much better than the people of England can. Beſides, it is their own eſtates and property, their own rights, liberties and government, they are defend⯑ing; and were they not to do it, they would deſerve to loſe all, and none would pity them. The fault would be their own, and their puniſhment juſt.

THE Britiſh army in America care not how long the war laſts. They enjoy an eaſy and indolent life. They fatten on the folly of one country and the ſpoils of aother; and, between their plunder and their pay, may go home rich. But the caſe is very different with the labouring farmer, the working tradeſman, and the neceſſitous poor in England, the ſweat of whoſe brow goes day after day to feed, in prodigality and ſloth, the army that is robbing both them and us. [15]Removed from the eye of the country that ſupports them, and diſtant from the govern⯑ment that employs them, they cut and carve for themſelves, and there is none to call them to account.

BUT England will be ruined, ſays Lord Shelburne, if America is independent.

THEN, I ſay, is England already ruined, for America is already independent: and if Lord Shelburne will not allow this, he im⯑mediately denies the fact which he infers. Beſides, to make England the mere creature of America, is paying too great a compliment to us, and too little to himſelf.

BUT the declaration is a rhapſody of in⯑conſiſtence. For to ſay, as Lord Shelburne has numberleſs times ſaid, that the war [16]againſt America is ruinous, and yet to con⯑tinue the proſecution of that ruinous war for the purpoſe of avoiding ruin, is a language which cannot be underſtood. Neither is it poſſible to ſee how the Independence of America is to accompliſh the ruin of En⯑gland after the war is over, and yet not effect it before. America cannot be more inde⯑pendent of her, nor a greater enemy to her, hereafter than ſhe is now; nor England derive leſs advantages from her than at preſent: Why then is ruin to follow in the beſt ſtate of the caſe, and not in the worſt? And if not in the worſt, why is it to follow at all?

THAT a nation is to be ruined by peace and commerce, and fourteen or fifteen mil⯑lions a-year leſs expences than before, is a new doctrine in politics. We have heard [17]much clamour of national ſavings and oeco⯑nomy; but ſurely the true oeconomy would be, to ſave the whole charege of a ſilly, fooliſh, and headſtrong war; becauſe, compared with this, all other retrenchments are baubles and trifles.

BUT is it poſſible that Lord Shelburne can be ſerious in ſuppoſing the leaſt advantage can be obtained by arms, or that any advantage can be equal to the expence, or the danger of attempting it? Will not the capture of one army after another ſatisfy him, but all muſt become priſoners? Muſt England ever be the ſport of hope, and the dupe of deluſion? Some⯑times our currency was to fail; another time our army was to diſband: then whole provinces were to revolt. Such a General ſaid this and that; another wrote ſo and ſo. Lord Chatham was of this opinion; and [18]Lord Somebody elſe of another. To-day 20,000 Ruſſians and 20 Ruſſian ſhips of the line were to come; to-morrow the Empreſs was abuſed without mercy or decency.— Then the Emperor of Germany was to be bribed with a million of money, and the King of Pruſſia was to do wonderful things. At one time it was, Lo here! and then it was, Lo there! Sometimes this Power, and ſome⯑times that Power, was to engage in the war, juſt as if the whole world was as mad and fooliſh as Britain. And thus, from year to year, has every ſtraw been catched at, and every Will-with-a-wiſp led them a new dance.

THIS year a ſtill newer folly is to take place. Lord Shelburne wiſhes to be ſent to Congreſs, and he think that ſomething may be done.

[19]ARE not the repeated declarations of Con⯑greſs, and which all America ſupports, that they will not even hear any propoſals what⯑ever, until the unconditional and unequi⯑vocal Independence of America is recogniſed; are not, I ſay, theſe declarations anſwer enough?

BUT for England to receive any thing from America now, after ſo many inſults, injuries, and outrages, acted towards us, would ſhew ſuch a ſpirit of meanneſs in her, that we could not but deſpiſe her for accept⯑ing it. And ſo far from Lord Shelburne coming here to ſolicit it, it would be the greateſt diſgrace we could do them to offer it. England would appear a wretch indeed, at this time of day, to aſk or owe any thing to the bounty of America. Has not the name of Engliſhman blots enough upon it, [20]without inventing more? Even Lucifer would ſcorn to reign in Heaven by per⯑miſſion, and yet an Engliſhman can creep for only an entrance into America. Or has a land of liberty ſo many charms, that to be a door-keeper in it is better than to be an Engliſh Miniſter of State?

BUT what can this expected ſomething be? or, if obtained, what can it amount to but new diſgraces, contentions, and quarrels? The people of America have for years accuſ⯑tomed themſelves to think and ſpeak ſo free⯑ly and contemptuouſly of Engliſh authority, and the inveteracy is ſo deeply rooted, that a perſon inveſted with any authority from that country, and attempting to exerciſe it here, would have the life of a toad under a har⯑row. They would look on him as an inter⯑loper, to whom their compaſſion permitted [21]a reſidence. He would be no more than the Mungo of the farce; and if he diſliked that, he muſt ſet off. It would be a ſtation of de⯑gradation, debaſed by our pity, and deſpiſed by our pride, and would place England in a more contemptible ſituation than any ſhe has yet ſuffered by the war. We have too high an opinion of ourſelves, ever to think of yielding again the leaſt obedience to out⯑landiſh authority; and for a thouſand rea⯑ſons, England would be the laſt country in the world to yield it to. She has been trea⯑cherous, and we know it. Her character is gone, and we have ſeen the funeral.

SURELY ſhe loves to fiſh in troubled wa⯑ters, and drink the cup of contention, or ſhe would not now think of mingling her affairs with thoſe of America. It would be like a fooliſh dotard taking to his arms the bride [22]that deſpiſes him, or who has placed on his head the enſigns of her diſguſt. It is kiſſing the hand that boxes his ears, and propoſing to renew the exchange. The though is as ſervile as the war was wicked, and ſhews the laſt ſcence of the drama as inconſiſtent as the firſt.

As America is gone, the only act of man⯑hood is to let her go. Your Lordſhip had no hand in the ſeparation, and you will gain no honour by temporiſing politicks. Be⯑ſides, there is ſomething ſo exceedingly whimſical, unſteady, and even inſincere in the preſent conduct of England, that ſhe ex⯑hibits herſelf in moſt diſhonourable colours.

ON the ſecond of Auguſt laſt General Carleton and Admiral Digby wrote to Ge⯑neral Waſhington in theſe words: ‘[23] THE reſolutions of the Houſe of Com⯑mons of the 27th of February laſt have been placed in your Excellency's hands, and intimations given at the ſame time, that further pacific meaſures were likely to follow. Since which, until the preſent time, we have had no direct communica⯑tions from England; but a mail is now arrived, which brings us very impor⯑tant information. We are acquainted, Sir, by authority, that negotiations for a gene⯑ral peace have already commenced at Paris, and that Mr. Grenville is inveſted with full powers to treat with all the parties at war, and is now at Paris in the execution of his commiſſion. And we are farther, Sir, made acquainted, that his Majeſty, in order to remove all obſtacles to that peace which he ſo ardently wiſhes to reſtore, has commanded his Miniſters to direct [24]Mr. Grenville, that the Independence of the Thirteen United Provinces ſhould be propoſed by him in the firſt inſtance, inſtead of making it a condition of a general treaty.’

Now, taking your preſent meaſures into view, and comparing them with the decla⯑ration in this Letter, pray what is the word of your King or his Miniſters, or the Parlia⯑ment, good for? Muſt we not look upon you as a confederated body of faithleſs, treache⯑rous men, whoſe aſſurances are fraud, and their language deceit? What opinion can we poſſibly form of you, but that you are a loſt, abandoned, profligate nation, who ſport even with your own character, and are to be held by nothing but the bayonet or the halter?

[25]To ſay, after this, that the ſun of Great Britain will be ſet whenever ſhe acknowledges the Independence of America, when the not doing it is the unqualified lie of Government, can be no other than the language of ridi⯑cule, the jargon of inconſiſtency. There were thouſands in America who predicted the deluſion, and looked upon it as a trick of trea⯑chery, to take us from our guard, and draw off our attention from the only ſyſtem of finance, by which we can be called, or de⯑ſerve to be called, a ſovereign, independent people. The fraud, on your part, might be worth attempting, but the ſacrifice to obtain it is too high.

THERE were others who credited the aſ⯑ſurance, becauſe they thought it impoſſible that men who had their characters to eſta⯑bliſh would begin it with a lie. The pro⯑ſecution [26]ſecution of the war by the former Miniſtry was ſavage and horrid; ſince which it has been mean, trickiſh, and deluſive. The one went greedily into the paſſion of revenge, the other into the ſubtleties of low contri⯑vance; till, between the crimes of both, there is ſcarcely left a man in America, be he Whig or Tory, who does not deſpiſe or deteſt the conduct of Britain.

THE management of Lord Shelburne, whatever may be his views, is a caution to us, and muſt be to the world, never to re⯑gard Britiſh aſſurances. A perfidy ſo no⯑torious cannot be hid. It ſtands even in the public papers of New-York, with the names of Carleton and Digby affixed to it. It is a proclamation that the King of England is not to be believed: that the ſpirit of lying is the governing principle of the Miniſtry. [27]It is holding up the character of the Houſe of Commons to public infamy, and warning all men not to credit them. Such is the conſe⯑quence which Lord Shelburne's manage⯑ment has brought upon his country.

AFTER the authoriſed declarations con⯑tained in Carleton and Digby's letter, you ought, from every motive of honour, policy, and prudence, to have fulfilled them, what⯑ever might have been the event. It was the leaſt atonement you could poſſibly make to America, and the greateſt kindneſs you could do to yourſelves; for you will ſave millions by a general peace, and you will loſe as many by continuing the war.

P. S. The manuſcript copy of this Letter is ſent your Lordſhip, by the way of our Head-Quarters, to New-York, incloſing a late pamphlet of mine, addreſſed to the Abbe Reynal, which will ſerve to give your Lord⯑ſhip ſome idea of the principles and ſenti⯑ments of America.