OBSERVATIONS ON A LATE STATE OF THE NATION.

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

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

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

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

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

The author has indeed ſo involved his ſubject that it is frequently far from being eaſy to comprehend his meaning. It is happy for the pub⯑lic that it is never difficult to fathom his deſign. The apparent inten⯑tion of this author is to draw the moſt aggravated, hideous and deformed picture of the ſtate of this country, which his querulous eloquence, aided by the arbitrary dominion he aſſumes over fact, is capable of exhibiting. Had he attributed our misfortunes to their true cauſe, the injudicious [4] tampering of bold, improvident, and viſionary miniſters at one period, or to their ſupine negligence and traiterous diſſentions at another, the com⯑plaint had been juſt, and might have been uſeful. But far the greater and much the worſt part of the ſtate which he exhibits is owing, accord⯑ing to his repreſentation, not to accidental and extrinſic miſchiefs at⯑tendant on the nation, but to its radical weakneſs, and conſtitutional diſtempers. All this however is not without purpoſe. The author is in hopes that when we are fallen into a fanatical terror for the na⯑tional ſalvation, we ſhall then be ready to throw ourſelves, in a ſort of precipitate truſt, ſome ſtrange diſpoſition of the mind jumbled up of preſumption and deſpair, into the hands of the moſt pretending and forward undertaker. One ſuch undertaker at leaſt he has in readineſs for our ſervice. But let me aſſure this generous perſon, that, however he may ſucceed in exciting our fears for the public danger, he will find it hard indeed to engage us to place any confidence in the ſyſtem he propoſes for its ſecurity.

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

Such is the author's ſcheme. Whether it will anſwer his purpoſe, I know not. But ſurely that purpoſe ought to be a wonderfully good one to warrant the methods he has taken to compaſs it. If the facts and reaſonings in this piece are admitted, it is all over with us. The conti⯑nuance of our tranquillity depends upon the compaſſion of our rivals. Unable to ſecure to ourſelves the advantages of peace, we are at the ſame time utterly unfit for war. It is impoſſible, if this ſtate of things be credited abroad, that we can have any alliance; all nations will ſly from ſo dangerous a connection, leſt, inſtead of being partakers of our ſtrength, they ſhould only become ſharers in our ruin. If it is believed at home, all that firmneſs of mind, and dignified national courage, which uſed to [5] be the great ſupport of this iſle againſt the powers of the world, muſt melt away, and fail within us.

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

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

‘Happily (the K.) was then adviſed by miniſters, who did not ſuffer themſelves to be dazzled by the glare of brilliant appearances; but, knowing them to be fallacious, they wiſely reſolved to profit of their ſplendour before our enemies ſhould alſo diſcover the impoſition.— The increaſe in the exports was found to have been occaſioned chiefly by the demands of our own fleets and armies, and, inſtead of bringing wealth to the nation, were to be paid for by oppreſſive taxes upon the people of England. While the Britiſh ſeamen were conſuming on board our men of war and privateers, ſoreign ſhips and foreign ſeamen were employed in the tranſportation of our merchandize; and the car⯑rying trade, ſo great a ſource of wealth and marine, was intirely engroſſed by the neutral nations. The number of Britiſh ſhips annually arriving in our ports was reduced to 1756 ſail, containing 92.559 tons, on a medium of the ſix years war, compared with the ſix years of peace pre⯑ceding it.—The conqueſt of the Havannah bad, indeed, ſtopped the remittance of ſpecie from Mexico to Spain; but it had not enabled [6] England to ſeize it: on the contrary, our merchants ſuffered by the detention of the galleons, as their correſpondents in Spain were diſabled from paying them for their goods ſent to America. The loſs of the trade to Old Spain was a farther bar to an influx of ſpecie; and the attempt upon Portugal had not only deprived us of an import of bullion from thence, but the payment of our troops employed in its defence was a freſh drain opened for the diminution of our circulating ſpecie.—The high premiums given for new loans had ſunk the price of the old ſtock near a third of its original value, ſo that the purchaſers had an obliga⯑tion from the ſtate to repay them with an addition of 33 per cent. to their capital. Every new loan required new taxes to be impoſed; new taxes muſt add to the price of our manufactures, and leſſen their conſumption among foreigners. The decay of our trade muſt neceſſarily occaſion a decreaſe of the public revenue; and a deficiency of our funds muſt either be made up by freſh taxes, which would only add to the calamity, or our national credit muſt be deſtroyed, by ſhewing the public creditors the inability of the nation to repay them their principal money.—Bounties had already been given for recruits which exceeded the year's wages of the plowman and reaper; and as theſe were exhauſted, and huſbandry ſtood ſtill for want of hands, the manu⯑facturers were next to be tempted to quit the anvil and the loom by higher offers.—France, bankrupt France, had no ſuch calamities impend⯑ing over her; her diſtreſſes were great, but they were immediate and tem⯑porary; her want of credit preſerved her from a great increaſe of debt, and the loſs of her ultra-marine dominions leſſened her expences. Her colonies had, indeed, put themſelves into the hands of the Engliſh; but the property of her ſubjects had been preſerved by capitulations, and a way opened for making her thoſe remittances, which the war had before ſuſpended, with as much ſecurity as in time of peace.— Her armies in Germany had been hitherto prevented from ſeizing upon Hanover; but they continued to encamp on the ſame ground on which the firſt battle was fought; and, as it muſt ever happen from the policy of that government, the laſt troops ſhe ſent into the field were always found to be the beſt, and her frequent loſſes only ſerved to fill her regiments with better ſoldiers. The conqueſt of Hanover became therefore every campaign more probable. It is to be noted, that the French troops received ſubſiſtence only, for the laſt three years of the war; and that although large arrears were due to them at its concluſion, the charge was the leſs during its con⯑tinuance ^b’

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

He tells the world, that if France carries on the war againſt us in Germany, every loſs ſhe ſuſtains contributes to the atchievement of her P. 9, 10. conqueſt. If her armies are three years unpaid, ſhe is the leſs exhauſted by expence. If her credit is deſtroyed, ſhe is the leſs oppreſſed with debt. If her troops are cut to pieces, they will by her policy (and a wonderful policy it is) be improved, and will be ſupplied with much better men. If the war is carried on in the colonies, he tells them that the loſs of her ultramarine dominions leſſens her expences, and encreaſes P. 1 her remittances:

If ſo, what is it we can do to hurt her?—It will be all an impoſition, all fallacious. Why the reſult muſt be—Occidit, occidit ſpes omnis & fortu⯑na noſtri nominis.

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

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

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

Firſt the author, in order to ſupport his favourite paradox, that our poſſeſſion of the French colonies was of no detriment to France, has thought proper to inform us that ‘they put themſelves into the hands of the Engliſh.’ He uſes the ſame aſſertion, in nearly the ſame words, in another place; "Her colonies had put themſelves into our hands." P. 6 Now, in juſtice not only to fact and common ſenſe, but to the incompara⯑ble valour and perſeverance of our military and naval forces thus un⯑handſomely traduced, I muſt tell this author, that the French colonies did not "put themſelves into the hands of the Engliſh." They were compelled to ſubmit; they were ſubdued by dint of Engliſh valour. Will the five years war carried on in Canada, in which fell one of the principal hopes of this nation; and all the battles loſt and gained during that anxious period, convince this author of his miſtake. Let him in⯑quire of Sir Jeffery Amherſt, under whoſe conduct that war was [9] carried on; of Sir Charles Saunders, whoſe ſteadineſs and preſence of mind ſaved our fleet, and were ſo eminently ſerviceable in the whole courſe of the ſiege of Quebec; of General Monkton, who was ſhot through the body there, whether France ‘put her colonies into the hands of the Engliſh?’

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

In the next place our author is pleaſed to conſider the conqueſt of theſe colonies in no other light than as a convenience for the remittances to P. 9 France, which he aſſerts that the war had before ſuſpended, but for which a way was opened (by our conqueſt) as ſecure as in time of peace. I charitably hope he knows nothing of the ſubject. I referred him lately to our commanders for the reſiſtance of the French colonies; I now wiſh he would apply to our cuſtom-houſe entries, and our merchants, for the advantages which we derived from them.

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

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

On this ſtate the reader will obſerve, that I take the imports from, and not the exports to, theſe conqueſts, as the meaſure of the advantages which we derived from them. I do ſo for reaſons which will be ſomewhat wor⯑thy the attention of ſuch readers as are fond of this ſpecies of inquiry. I ſay therefore I chooſe the import article, as the beſt, and indeed the only ſtandard we can have, of the value of the Weſt India trade. Our ex⯑port entry does not comprehend the greateſt trade we carry on with any of the Weſt India iſlands, the ſale of negroes; nor does it give any idea of two other advantages we draw from them; the remittances for money ſpent here, and the payment of part of the balance of the North American trade. It is therefore quite ridiculous, to ſtrike a balance merely on the face of an exceſs of imports and exports, in that commerce; though, in moſt foreign branches, it is, on the whole, the beſt method. If we ſhould take that ſtandard, it would appear, that the balance with our own iſlands is, annually, ſeveral hundred thouſand pounds againſt this country ^c. Such is its aſpect on the cuſtom-houſe entries; but we know the direct contrary to be the fact. We know that the Weſt Indians are always [11] indebted to our merchants, and that the value of every ſhilling of Weſt India produce is Engliſh property. So that our import from them, and not our export, ought always to be conſidered as their true value; and this corrective ought to be applied to all general balances of our trade, which are formed on the ordinary principles.

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

As to our trade at that time, he labours with all his might to repreſent it as abſolutely ruined, or on the very edge of ruin. Indeed, as uſual with him, he is often as equivocal in his expreſſion, as he is clear in his deſign. Sometimes he more than inſinuates a decay of our commerce in that war; ſometimes he admits an encreaſe of exports; but it is in order to depreciate the advantages we might appear to derive from that encreaſe, whenever it ſhould come to be proved againſt him. He tells you, P. 6 ‘that it was chiefly occaſioned by the demands of our own fleets and armies, and inſtead of bringing wealth to the nation, were to be paid for by oppreſſive taxes upon the people of England.’ Never was any thing more deſtitute of foundation. It might be proved with the greateſt eaſe, from the nature and quality of the goods exported, as well as from the ſituation of the places to which our merchandiſe was ſent, and which the war could no ways affect, that the ſupply of our fleets and armies could not have been the cauſe of this wonderful encreaſe of trade: its cauſe was evident to the whole world; the ruin of the trade of France, and our poſſeſſion of her colonies. What wonderful effects this cauſe [12] produced, the reader will ſee below ^d; and he will form on that account ſome judgment of the authors candour or information.

Admit however that a great part of our export, which is the remoteſt in the world from fact, was owing to our ſupply of our fleets and armies; was it not ſomething?—was it not peculiarly fortunate for a nation, that ſhe was able from her own boſom to contribute largely to the ſupply of her armies militating in ſo many diſtant countries? The author allows that France did not enjoy the ſame advantages. But it is remark⯑able throughout his whole book, that thoſe circumſtances which have ever been conſidered as great benefits, and deciſive proofs of national ſu⯑periority, are, when in our hands, taken either in diminution of ſome other apparent advantage, or even ſometimes as poſitive misfortunes. The opticks of that politician muſt be of a ſtrange conformation, who be⯑holds every thing in this diſtorted light.

So far as to our trade. With regard to our navigation, he is ſtill more uneaſy at our ſituation, and ſtill more fallacious in his ſtate of it. In his text, he affirms it "to have been entirely engroſſed by the neutral nations ^e." This he aſſerts roundly and boldly, and without the leaſt concern; al⯑though it coſt no more than a ſingle glance of the eye upon his own margin to ſee the full refutation of this aſſertion. His own account proves againſt him, that in the year 1761 the Britiſh ſhipping amounted to 527,557 tons—the foreign to no more than 180,102. The medium [13] of his ſix years Britiſh, 2,449,555 tons—foreign only, 906,690. This ſtate (his own) demonſtrates that the neutral nations did not entirely engroſs our navigation.

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

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

In the next place, his method of ſtating a medium of ſix years of war, and ſix years of peace, to decide this queſtion, is altogether unfair. To ſay, in derogation of the advantages of a war, that navigation is not equal to what it was in time of peace, is what hitherto has never been heard of. No war ever bore that teſt but the war which he ſo bitterly laments. One may lay it down as a maxim, that an average eſtimate of an object in a ſteady courſe of riſing or of falling, muſt in its nature be an unfair one; more particularly if the cauſe of the riſe or fall be viſible, and its continuance in any degree probable. Average eſtimates are never juſt but when the object fluctuates; and no reaſon can be aſſigned why it ſhould not continue ſtill to fluctuate. The author chuſes to allow nothing [14] at all for this: he has taken an average of ſix years of the war. He knew, for every body knows, that the firſt three years were on the whole rather unſucceſsful; and that, in conſequence of this ill ſucceſs, trade ſunk, and navigation declined with it; but that grand deluſion of the three laſt years turned the ſcale in our favour. At the beginning of that war (as in the commencement of every war), traders were ſtruck with a ſort of pa⯑nick. Many went out of the freighting buſineſs. But by degrees, as the war continued the terror wore off; the danger came to be bet⯑ter appreciated, and better provided againſt; our trade was car⯑ried on in large fleets, under regular conduct, and with great ſafety. The freighting buſineſs revived. The ſhips were fewer, but much larger; and though the number decreaſed, the tonnage was vaſtly aug⯑mented; inſomuch that in 1761 the Britiſh ſhipping had riſen by the author's own account to 527.557 tons.—In the laſt year he has given us of the peace it amounted to no more than 494.772; that is, in the laſt year of the war it was 32.785 tons more than in the correſpondent year of his peace average. No year of the peace exceeded it except one, and that but little.

The fair account of the matter is this. Our trade had, as we have juſt ſeen, encreaſed to ſo aſtoniſhing a degree in 1761, as to employ Britiſh and foreign ſhips to the amount of 707.659 tons, which is 139.500 more than we employed in the laſt year of the peace.—Thus our trade en⯑creaſed nearly a fifth; our Britiſh navigation had encreaſed likewiſe with this aſtoniſhing increaſe of trade, but was not able to keep pace with it; and we added about 60,000 ton more of foreign ſhipping than had been employed in the laſt year of peace.—Whatever happened to our ſhipping in the former years of the war, this would be no true ſtate of the caſe at the time of the treaty. If we had loſt ſomething in the beginning, we had then recovered, and more than recovered, all our loſſes. Here is the ſubject of the doleful complaints of the author, that the carrying trade was wholly engroſſed by the neutral nations.

I have done fairly, and even very moderately, in taking this year, and not his average, as the ſtandard of what might be expected in future, had the war continued. The author will be compelled to allow it, unleſs he undertakes to ſhew; firſt, that the poſſeſſion of Canada, Martinico, Guadaloupe, Granada, the Havannah, the Philippines, the whole Afri⯑can trade, the whole Eaſt India trade, and the whole Newfoundland fiſh⯑ery, had no certain inevitable tendency to increaſe the Britiſh ſhipping; unleſs, in the ſecond place, he can prove that thoſe trades were, or might by law or indulgence, be carried on in foreign veſſels: and unleſs, third⯑ly, he can demonſtate that the premium of inſurance on Britiſh ſhips was riſing as the war continued. He can prove not one of theſe points. [15] I will ſhew him a fact more, that is mortal to his aſſertions. It is the ſtate of our ſhipping in 1762. The author had his reaſons for ſtopping ſhort at the preceding year. It would have appeared, had he proceeded farther, that our tonnage was in a courſe of uniform augmentation, owing to the freights derived from our foreign conqueſts, and to the perfect ſe⯑curity of our navigation from our clear and decided ſuperiority at ſea. This, I ſay, would have appeared from the ſtate of the two years:

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

In vain does the author declaim on the high premiums given for the loans during that war. His long note ſwelled with calculations (even ſuppoſing the moſt inaccurate of all calculations to be juſt) on that P. 8 ſubject would be entirely thrown away, did it not ſerve to raiſe a won⯑derful opinion of his financial ſkill in thoſe who are not leſs ſurpriſed than edified, when, with a ſolemn face and myſterious air, they are told that two and two make four. For what elſe do we learn from this note? That the more expence that is incurred by a nation, the more money will be required to defray it; that, in proportion to the continuance of that expence, will be the continuance of borrowing; that the increaſe of bor⯑rowing and the increaſe of debt will go hand in hand; and laſtly, that the more money you want, the harder it will be to get it; and that the ſcarcity of the commodity will enhance the price. Who ever doubted the truth, or the inſignificance, of theſe propoſitions? what do they prove? that war is expenſive, and peace deſirable. They contain nothing more than a common-place againſt war; the eaſieſt of all topics. To bring them home to his purpoſe, he ought to have ſhewn, that our enemies had money upon better terms; which he has not ſhewn, neither can he. I ſhall ſpeak more fully to this point in another place. He ought to have ſhewn, that the money they raiſed, upon whatever terms, had procured them a more lucrative return. He knows that our expenditure purchaſed commerce and conqueſt; theirs acquired nothing but defeat and bankruptey.

[16] Thus the author has laid down his ideas on the ſubject of war. Next follow thoſe he entertains on that of peace. The treaty of Paris upon the whole has his approbation. Indeed, if his account of the war be juſt, he might have ſpared himſelf all further trouble. The reſt is drawn on as an inevitable concluſion. If the Houſe of Bourbon had the advantage, P. 12, 13 ſhe muſt give the law; and the peace, though it were much worſe than it is, had ſtill been a good one. But as the world is yet deluded on the ſtate of that war, other arguments are neceſſary; and the au⯑thor has in my opinion very ill ſupplied them. He tells of many things we have got, and of which he has made out a kind of bill. This matter may be brought within a very narrow compaſs, if we come to conſider the requiſites of a good peace under ſome plain diſ⯑tinct heads. I apprehend they may be reduced to theſe: 1. ſtability; 2. indemnification; 3. alliance.

As to the firſt, the author more than obſcurely hints in ſeveral places; that he thinks the peace not likely to laſt. However, he does furniſh a ſe⯑curity; a ſecurity, in any light, I fear, but inſufficient; on his hypotheſis ſurely a very odd one. ‘By ſtipulating for the entire poſſeſſion of the P. 17 continent, (ſays he) the reſtored French iſlands are become in ſome meaſure dependent on the Britiſh empire, and the good faith of France in obſerving the treaty is guaranted by the value at which ſhe eſtimates their poſſeſſion.’ This author ſoon grows weary of his principles. They ſeldom laſt him for two pages together. When the advan⯑tages of the war were to be depreciated, then the loſs of the ul⯑tramarine colonies lightened the expences of France, facilitated her remittances, and therefore her coloniſts put them into our hands. Ac⯑cording to this author's ſyſtem, the actual poſſeſſion of thoſe colo⯑nies ought to give us little or no advantage in the negotiation for peace; and yet the chance of poſſeſſing them on a future occaſion gives a perfect ſecurity for the preſervation of that peace. The conqueſt of the Havan⯑nah, if it did not ſerve Spain, rather diſtreſſed England, ſays our author ^f. P. 6 But the moleſtation which her galleons may ſuffer from our ſtation in Penſacola gives us advantages, for which we were not allowed to credit the nation for the Havannah itſelf; a place ſurely full as well ſituated for every external purpoſe as Penſacola, and of a little more internal benefit than ten thouſand Penſacolas.

[17] The author ſets very little by conqueſts; I ſuppoſe it is becauſe he P. 12, 13. makes them ſo very lightly. On this ſubject he ſpeaks with the greateſt certainty imaginable. We have, according to him, nothing to do, but to go and take poſſeſſion, whenever we think proper, of the French and Spaniſh ſettlements. It were better that he had examined a little what advantage the peace gave us towards the invaſion of theſe colonies, which we did not poſſeſs before the peace. It would not have been amiſs if he had conſulted the public experience, and our commanders, concern⯑ing the abſolute certainty of thoſe conqueſts on which he is pleaſed to found our ſecurity. And if, after all, he ſhould have diſcovered them to be ſo very ſure, and ſo very eaſy, he might, at leaſt, to preſerve con⯑ſiſtency, have looked a few pages back, and (no unpleaſing thing to him) liſtened to himſelf, where he ſays, ‘that the moſt ſucceſsful enterpriſe P. 6 could not compenſate to the nation for the waſte of its people, by carrying on war in unhealthy climates.’ A poſition which he repeats again, p. 9. So that, according to himſelf, his ſecurity is not worth the ſuit. According to fact, he has only a chance, God knows what a chance, of getting at it. And therefore, according to reaſon, the giving up the moſt valuable of all poſſeſſions, in hopes to conquer them back, under any advantage of ſituation, is the moſt ridiculous ſecurity that ever was imagined for the peace of a nation. It is true his friends did not give up Canada; they could not give up every thing; let us make the moſt of it. We have Canada, we know its value. We have not the French any longer to fight in North America; and, from this circum⯑ſtance, we derive conſiderable advantages. But here let me reſt a little. The author touches upon a ſtring, which ſounds under his fingers but a tre⯑mulous and melancholy note.—North America was once indeed a great ſtrength to this nation, in opportunity of ports, in ſhips, in proviſions, in men. We ſound her a ſound, an active, a vigorous member of the em⯑pire. I hope, by wiſe management, ſhe will again become ſo. But one of our capital preſent misfortunes is, her diſcontent and diſ⯑obedience. To which of the author's favourites this diſcontent is owing, we all know but too ſufficiently.—It would be a diſmal event, if this foundation of his ſecurity, and indeed of all our public ſtrength, ſhould, in reality, become our weakneſs: and if all the powers of this empire, which ought to fall with a compacted weight upon the head of our enemies, ſhould be diſſipated and diſtracted by a jealous vigilance, or by hoſtile attempts upon one another. Ten Canadas cannot reſtore that ſecurity for the peace, and for every thing valuable to this country, which we have loſt along with the affection and the obedience of our colonies. He is the wiſe miniſter, he is the true friend to Britain, who ſhall be able to reſtore it.

[18] To return to the ſecurity for the peace. The author tells us, that P. 12 the original great purpoſes of the war were more than accompliſhed by the treaty. Surely he has experience and reading enough to know that, in the courſe of a war, events may happen, that render its original very far from being its principal purpoſe. This original may dwindle by circumſtances ſo as to become not a purpoſe of the ſecond or even the third magnitude. I truſt this is ſo obvious, that it will not be neceſſary to put caſes for its illuſtration. In that war, as ſoon as Spain entered into the quarrel, the ſecurity of North-America was no longer the ſole nor the foremoſt object. The Family compact had been I know not how long before in agitation. But then it was that we ſaw produced into daylight and action the moſt odious and moſt formidable of all the conſpiracies againſt the liberties of Europe, that ever has been framed. The war with Spain was the firſt fruits of that league; and a ſecurity againſt that league ought to have been the fundamental point of a pacification with the powers who compoſe it. We had materials in our hands to have conſtructed that ſecurity in ſuch a manner as never to be ſhaken. But how did the virtuous and able men of our author labour for this great end? They took no one ſtep towards it. On the contrary they countenanced, and indeed, as far as it depended on them, recognized it in all its parts; for our plenipotentiary treated with thoſe who acted for the two crowns, as if they had been different miniſters of the ſame monarch. The Spaniſh miniſter received his inſtructions, not from Ma⯑drid, but from Verſailles.

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

In the ſame ſpirit they negotiated the terms of the peace. If it were thought adviſable not to take any poſitive ſecurity from Spain, the moſt ob⯑vious principles of policy dictated that the burthen of the ceſſions ought to fall upon France; and that every thing which was of grace and favour ſhould be given to Spain. Spain could not, on her part, have executed a capital article in the family compact, which obliged her to compenſate the loſſes of France. At leaſt ſhe could not do it in America; for ſhe was expreſsly precluded by the treaty of Utrecht from ceding any territory or giving any advantage in trade to that power. What did our miniſters? They took from Spain the territory of Florida, an object of no value except to ſhew [19] our diſpoſitions to be quite equal at leaſt towards both powers; and they enabled France to compenſate Spain by the gift of Louiſiana; loading us with all the harſhneſs, leaving the act of kindneſs with France, and opening thereby a door to the fulfilling of this the moſt conſolidating article of the family compact. Accordingly that dangerous league, thus abetted and authorized by the Engliſh miniſtry without an attempt to invalidate it in any way, or in any of its parts, exiſts to this hour; and has grown ſtronger and ſtronger, every hour of its exiſtence.

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

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

As to the third requiſite, alliance, there too the author is ſilent. What ſtrength of that kind did they acquire? They got no one new ally; they ſtript the enemy of not a ſingle old one. They diſguſted (how juſtly, or un⯑juſtly, matters not) every ally we had; and, from that time to this, we ſtand friendleſs in Europe. But of this naked condition of their country, I [20] know ſome people are not aſhamed. They have their ſyſtem of politics; our anceſtors grew great by another. In this manner theſe virtuous men concluded the peace; and their practice is only conſonant to their theory.

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

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

The intereſt of debt contracted during the war, is ſtated by the author at £. 2. 614. 892. The particulars appear in pages 14 and 15. Among them is ſtated the unfunded debt, £. 9. 975. 017 ſuppoſed to carry intereſt on a medium at 3 per cent. which amounts to £. 299. 250. We are re⯑ferred to the Conſiderations on the Trade and Finances of the Kingdom, p. 22, for the particulars of that unfunded debt. Turn to the work, and to the place referred to by the author himſelf, if you have a mind to ſee a clear detection of a capital fallacy of this article in his account. You will there ſee that this unfunded debt conſiſts of the nine following ar⯑ticles; the remaining ſubſidy to the duke of Brunſwick; the remaining [21] dedommagement to the landgrave of Heſſe; the German demands; the army and ordnance extraordinaries; the deficiencies of grants and funds; Mr. Touchit's claim; the debts due to Nova Scotia and Barbadoes; Ex⯑chequer bills; and Navy debt. The extreme fallacy of this ſtate cannot eſcape any reader who will be at the pains to compare the intereſt money, with which he affirms us to have been loaded, in his State of the Nation, with the items of the principal debt to which he refers in his Conſiderations. The reader muſt obſerve, that of this long liſt of nine articles, only two, the Exchequer bills, and part of the Navy debt, carried any intereſt at all. The firſt amounted to £. 1. 800. 000; and this undoubtedly carried inter⯑eſt. The whole navy debt indeed amounted to £. 4. 576. 915; but of this only a part carried intereſt. The author of the Conſiderations, &c. labours to prove this very point in p. 18; and Mr. G. has always defended himſelf upon the ſame ground, for the inſufficient proviſion he made for the diſ⯑charge of that debt. The reader may ſee their own authority for it ^h.

Mr. G. did in fact provide no more than £. 2. 150. 000 for the diſ⯑charge of theſe bills in two years. It is much to be wiſhed that theſe gentlemen would lay their heads together, that they would conſider well this matter, and agree upon ſomething. For when the ſcanty proviſion made for the unfunded debt is to be vindicated, then we are told it is a very ſmall part of that debt which carries intereſt. But when the public ſtate is to be repreſented in a miſerable condition, and the conſequences of the late war to be laid before us in dreadful colours, then we are to be told that the unfunded debt is within a trifle of ten millions, and ſo large a portion of it carries intereſt that we muſt not compute leſs than 3 per cent. upon the whole.

In the year 1764, parliament voted £. 650. 000 towards the diſcharge of the navy debt. This ſum could not be applied ſolely to the diſcharge of bills carrying intereſt: becauſe part of the debt due on ſeamens wages muſt have been paid, and ſome bills carried no intereſt at all. Notwith⯑ſtanding [22] this, we find by an account in the Journals of the H. of C. in the following ſeſſion, that the navy debt carying intereſt was on the 31ſt of December 1764 no more than £. 1.687.442. I am ſure therefore that I admit too much when I admit the navy debt carrying intereſt, after the creation of the navy annuities in the year 1763 to have been £. 2.200.000. Add the exchequer bills, and the whole unfunded debt carrying intereſt will be four millions inſtead of ten; and the annual intereſt paid for it at 4 per cent. will be £. 160.000 inſtead of £. 299.250. An error of no ſmall magnitude, and which could not have been owing to inadvertency.

The miſrepreſentation of the encreaſe of the peace eſtabliſhment is ſtill more extraordinary than that of the intereſt on the unfunded debt. The encreaſe is great undoubtedly. However, the author finds no fault with it, and urges it only as a matter of argument to ſupport the ſtrange chi⯑merical propoſals he is to make us in the cloſe of his work for the en⯑creaſe of revenue. The greater he made that eſtabliſhment, the ſtronger he expected to ſtand in argument: but, whatever he expected or propoſed, he ſhould have ſtated the matter fairly. He tells us that this eſtabliſhment is near £. 1.500.000 more than it was in 1752, 1753, and other years of peace. This he has done in his uſual manner, by aſſertion, without troubling himſelf either with proof or probability. For he has not given us any ſtate of the peace eſtabliſhment in the years 1753 and 1754, the time which he means to compare with the preſent. As I am obliged to force him to that preciſion, from which he always flies as from his moſt danger⯑ous enemy, I have been at the trouble to ſearch the Journals in the period between the two laſt wars: and I find that the peace eſtabliſhment, con⯑ſiſting of the navy, the ordnance, and the ſeveral incidental expences, amounted to £. 2.346.594. Now is this writer wild enough to imagine, that the peace eſtabliſhment of 1764 and the ſubſequent years, made up from the ſame articles, is £. 3.800.000 and upwards? His aſſertion how⯑ever goes to this. But I muſt take the liberty of correcting him in this groſs miſtake, and from an authority he cannot refuſe, from his favourite work, and ſtanding authority, the Conſiderations. We find there, in p. 43 ^l, [23] the peace eſtabliſhment of 1764 and 1765 ſtated at £. 3.609.700. This is near two hundred thouſand pounds leſs than that given in the State of the Nation. But even from this, in order to render the articles which compoſe the peace eſtabliſhment in the two periods correſpondent (for otherwiſe they cannot be compared), we muſt deduct firſt, his articles of the deficiency of land and malt, which amount to £. 300.000. They certainly are no part of the eſtabliſhment, nor are they included in that ſum, which I have ſtated above for the eſtabliſhment in the time of the former peace. If they were proper to be ſtated at all, they ought to be ſtated in both accounts. We muſt alſo deduct the deficiencies of funds £. 202.400. Theſe deficiencies are the difference between the intereſt charged on the public for monies borrowed, and the produce of the taxes laid for the diſcharge of that intereſt. Annual proviſion is indeed to be made for them by parliament: but in the enquiry before us, which is only what charge is brought on the public by intereſt paid or to be paid for money borrowed, the utmoſt that the author ſhould do is to bring into the account the full intereſt for all that money. This he has done in p. 15, and he repeats it in p. 18, the very page I am now examin⯑ing, £. 2.614.892. To comprehend afterwards in the peace eſtabliſh⯑ment the deficiency of the fund created for payment of that intereſt, would be laying twice to the account of the war part of the ſame ſum. Suppoſe ten millions, borrowed at 4 per cent. and the fund for payment of the intereſt to produce no more than £. 200.000. The whole annual charge on the public is £. 400.000. It can be no more. But to charge the intereſt in one part of the account, and then the deficiency in the other, would be charging £. 600.000. The deficiency of funds muſt therefore be alſo deducted from the peace eſtabliſhment in the Conſide⯑rations; and then the peace eſtabliſhment in that author will be reduced to the ſame articles with thoſe included in the ſum I have already men⯑tioned for the peace eſtabliſhment before the laſt war, in the year 1753, and 1754.

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

[24]Let us put the whole together. The author ſtates,

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

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

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

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

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

His whole repreſentation is founded on the ſuppoſed operation of our debt, upon our manufactures, and our trade. To this cauſe he attri⯑butes a certain ſuppoſed dearneſs of the neceſſaries of life, which muſt compel our manufacturers to emigrate to cheaper countries, particularly to France, and with them the manufacture. Thence conſumption de⯑clining, and with it revenue. He will not permit the real balance of our trade to be eſtimated ſo high as £. 2.500.000, and the intereſt of the debt to foreigners carries off £. 1.500.000 of that balance. That [26] France is not in the ſame condition. Then follow his wailings and lamentings, which he renews over and over, according to his cuſtom—a declining trade, and decreaſing ſpecie—on the point of becoming tri⯑butary to France—of loſing Ireland—of having the colonies torn away from us.

The firſt thing upon which I ſhall obſerve is, what he takes for granted as the cleareſt of all propoſitions, the emigration of our manufacturers to P. 30, 31, 32. France. I undertake to ſay that this aſſertion is totally groundleſs, and I challenge the author to bring any ſort of proof of it. If living is cheaper in France, that is, to be had for leſs ſpecie, wages are proportionably lower. No manufacturer, let the living be what it will, was ever known to fly for refuge, to low wages. Money is the firſt thing which attracts him. Accordingly our wages attract artificers from all parts of the world. From two ſhillings to one ſhilling, is a fall, in all mens imaginations, which no calculation upon a difference in the price of the neceſſaries of life can compenſate. But it will be hard to prove, that a French arti⯑ficer is better fed, cloathed, lodged, and warmed, than one in England; for that is the ſenſe, and the only ſenſe, of living cheaper. If, in truth and fact, our artificer fares as well in all theſe reſpects, as one in the ſame ſtate in France—how ſtands the matter in point of opinion and prejudice, the ſprings by which people in that claſs of life are chiefly actuated? The idea of our common people, concerning French living, is dreadful; altogether as dreadful as our author's can poſſibly be of the ſtate of his own country; a way of thinking that will hardly ever prevail on them to deſert to France ^h.

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

In this manner this capital branch of manufacture has encreaſed, un⯑der the encreaſe of taxes; and this not from a declining, but from a greatly flouriſhing period of commerce. I may ſay the ſame on the beſt authority of the fabrick of thin goods at Halifax; of the bays at Roch⯑dale; and of that infinite variety of admirable manufactures that grow and extend every year among the ſpirited, inventive, and enterprizing traders of Mancheſter.

A trade ſometimes ſeems to periſh when it only aſſumes a differ⯑ent form. Thus the coarſeſt woollens were formerly exported in great quantities to Ruſſia. The Ruſſians now ſupply themſelves with theſe goods. But the export thither of finer cloths has encreaſed in pro⯑portion, as the other has declined. Poſſibly ſome parts of the kingdom may have felt ſomething like a languor in buſineſs. Objects like trade and manufacture, which the very attempt to confine would certainly de⯑ſtroy, frequently change their place; and thereby, far from being loſt, are often highly improved. Thus ſome manufactures have decayed in the weſt and ſouth, which have made new and more vigorous ſhoots when tranſplanted into the north. And here it is impoſſible to paſs by, though the author has ſaid nothing upon it, the vaſt addition to the maſs of Britiſh trade, which has been made by the improvement of Scotland. What does he think of the commerce of the city of Glaſgow, and of the manufactures of Paiſley and all the adjacent county? Has this any thing like the deadly aſpect and facies Hippocratica which the falſe diagnoſtic of our ſtate phyſician has given to our trade in general? Has he not heard of the iron works of ſuch magnitude even in their cradle which are ſet up on [28] the Carron, which at the ſame time have drawn nothing from Sheffield, Birmingham, or Wolverhampton?

This might perhaps be enough to ſhew the entire falſity of the com⯑plaint concerning the decline of our manufactures. But every ſtep we advance, this matter clears up more and more; and the falſe terrors of the author are diſſipated, and fade away as the light appears. ‘The trade and manufactures of this country (ſays he) going to ruin, and a diminution of our revenue from conſumption muſt attend the loſs of ſo many ſeamen, and artificers.’ Nothing more true than the general obſervation: no⯑thing more falſe than its application to our circumſtances. Let the re⯑venue on conſumption ſpeak for itſelf:

Here is no diminution. Here is, on the contrary, an immenſe encreaſe. This is owing, I ſhall be told, to the new duties, which may encreaſe the total bulk; but at the ſame time may make ſome diminution of the pro⯑duce of the old. Were this the fact, it would be far from ſupporting the author's complaint. It might have proved that the burthen lay rather too heavy; but it would never prove that the revenue from conſumption was impaired, which was his buſineſs to do. But what is the real fact? Let us take, as the beſt inſtance for the purpoſe, the produce of the old hereditary and temporary exciſe granted in the reign of Charles the Se⯑cond, whoſe object is that of moſt of the new impoſitions, from two ave⯑rages, each of 8 years:

I have taken theſe averages as including in each, a war and a peace pe⯑riod; the firſt before the impoſition of the new duties, the other ſince thoſe impoſitions; and ſuch is the ſtate of the oldeſt branch of the reve⯑nue from conſumption. Beſides the acquiſition of ſo much new, this article, to ſpeak of no other, has rather encreaſed under the preſſure of all thoſe additional taxes to which the author is pleaſed to attribute its deſtruction. But as the author has made his grand effort againſt thoſe moderate, judicious, and neceſſary levies, which ſupport all the dig⯑nity, the credit, and the power of his country, the reader will excuſe a [29] little further detail on this ſubject; that we may ſee how little oppreſſive thoſe taxes are on the ſhoulders of the publick, with which he labours ſo earneſtly to load its imagination. For this purpoſe we take the ſtate of that ſpecific article upon which the two capital burthens of the war leaned the moſt immediately, by the additional duties on malt, and upon beer:

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

When a repreſentation is built on truth and nature, one member ſupports the other, and mutual lights are given and received from every part. Thus, as our manufacturers have not deſerted, nor the manufacture left us, nor the conſumption declined, nor the revenue ſunk, ſo neither has trade, [30] which is at once the reſult, meaſure, and cauſe of the whole, in the leaſt decayed, as our author has thought proper ſometimes to affirm, conſtantly to ſuppoſe, as if it were the moſt indiſputable of all propoſitions. The rea⯑dear will ſee below the comparative ſtate of our trade in three of the beſt years before our encreaſe of debt and taxes, and with it the three laſt years ſince the author's date of our ruin ^m.

In the laſt three years the whole of our exports was between 44 and 45 millions. In the three years preceding the war, it was no more than from 35 to 36 millions. The average balance of the former period was £. 3. 706. 000; of the latter, ſomething above four millions. It is true, that whilſt the impreſſions of the author's deſtructive war continued, our trade was greater than it is at preſent. One of the neceſſary conſequen⯑ces of the peace was, that France muſt gradually recover a part of thoſe markets of which ſhe had been originally in poſſeſſion. However, after all theſe deductions, ſtill the groſs trade in the worſt year of the preſent is better than in the beſt year of any former period of peace. A very great part of our taxes, is not the greateſt, has been impoſed ſince the begin⯑ning of this century. On the author's principles, this continual encreaſe of taxes muſt have ruined our trade, or at leaſt entirely checked its growth. But I have a manuſcript of Davenant, which contains an ab⯑ſtract of our trade for the years 1703 and 1704; by which it appears, [31] that the whole export from England did not then exceed £. 6. 552. 019. It is now conſiderably more than double that amount. Yet England was then a rich and flouriſhing nation.

The author endeavours to derogate from the balance in our favour as it ſtands on the Entries, and reduces it from 4 millions as it there appears to no more than £. 2. 500. 000. His obſervation on the looſeneſs and inaccura⯑cy of the export entries is juſt; and that the error is always an error of exceſs, I readily admit. But becauſe, as uſual, he has wholly omitted ſome very material facts, his concluſion is as erroneous as the entries he complains of.

On this point of the cuſtom-houſe entries I ſhall make a few obſerva⯑tions. 1ſt, The inaccuracy of theſe entries can extend only to FREE GOODS, that is, to ſuch Britiſh products and manufactures, as are exported without drawback and without bounty; which do not in general amount to more than two thirds at the very utmoſt of the whole export even of our home products. The valuable articles of corn, malt, leather, hops, beer, and many others, do not come under this objection of inaccuracy. The ar⯑ticle of CERTIFICATE GOODS re-exported, a vaſt branch of our commerce, admits of no error (except ſome ſmaller frauds which cannot be eſtimated), as they have all a drawback of duty, and the exporter muſt therefore cor⯑rectly ſpecify their quantity and kind. The author therefore is not war⯑ranted from the known error in ſome of the entries, to make a general defalcation from the whole balance in our favour. This error cannot affect more than half, if ſo much, of the export article. 2dly, In the ac⯑count made up at the inſpector general's office, they eſtimate only the original coſt of Britiſh products as they are here purchaſed; and on foreign goods, only the prices in the country from whence they are ſent. This was the method eſtabliſhed by Mr. Davenant; and, as far as it goes, it certainly is a good one. But the profits of the merchant at home, and of our factories abroad, are not taken into the account: which profit on ſuch an immenſe quantity of goods exported and re-exported cannot fail of being very great; five per cent. upon the whole, I ſhould think a very mode⯑rate allowance. 3dly, It does not comprehend the advantage ariſing from the employment of 600. 000 tons of ſhipping, which muſt be paid by the foreign conſumer, and which, in many bulky articles of commerce, is equal to the value of the commodity. This can ſcarcely be rated at leſs than a million annually. 4thly, The whole import from Ireland and America, and from the Weſt Indies, is ſet againſt us in the ordinary way of ſtriking a balance of imports and exports; whereas the import and ex⯑port are both our own. This is juſt as ridiculous, as to put againſt the general balance of the nation, how much more goods Cheſhire receives from London, than London from Cheſhire. The whole revolves and circu⯑lates through this kingdom, and is, ſo far as it regards our profit, in the nature [32] of home trade, as much as if the ſeveral countries of America and Ireland were all pieced to Cornwall. The courſe of exchange with all theſe places is fully ſufficient to demonſtrate that this kingdom has the whole advantage of their commerce. When the final profit upon a whole ſyſtem of trade reſts and centers in a certain place, a balance ſtruck in that place merely on the mutual ſale of commodities is quite fallacious. 5thly, The cuſtom-houſe entries furniſh a moſt defective, and indeed ridiculous idea, of the moſt va⯑luable branch of trade we have in the world, that with Newfoundland. Obſerve what you export thither; a little ſpirits, proviſion, fiſhing lines, and fiſhing hooks. Is this export the true idea of the Newfoundland trade in the light of a beneficial branch of commerce? nothing leſs. Examine our imports from thence; it ſeems, upon this vulgar idea of exports and im⯑ports, to turn the balance againſt you. But your exports to Newfound⯑land are your own goods. Your import is your own food; as much your own, as that you raiſe with your ploughs out of your own ſoil; and not your loſs, but your gain; your riches, not your poverty. But ſo fallacious is this way of judging, that neither the export nor import, nor both toge⯑ther, ſupply any idea approaching to adequate of that branch of buſineſs. The veſſels in that trade go ſtrait from Newfoundland to the foreign mar⯑ket; and the ſale there, not the import here, is the meaſure of its value. That trade which is one of your greateſt and beſt is hardly ſo much as ſeen in the cuſtom-houſe entries; and it is not of leſs annual value to this nation than £. 400. 000. 6thly, The quality of your imports muſt be conſider⯑ed as well as the quantity. To ſtate the whole of the foreign import as loſs, is exceedingly abſurd. All the iron, hemp, flax, cotton, Spaniſh wool, raw ſilk, woolen and linen yarn, which we import, are by no means to be conſidered, as the matter of a merely luxurious conſumption; which is the idea too generally and looſely annexed to our import article. Theſe above⯑mentioned are materials of induſtry, not of luxury, which are wrought up here, in many inſtances, to ten times, and more, of their original value. Even where they are not ſubſervient to our exports, they ſtill add to our in⯑ternal wealth, which conſiſts in the ſtock of uſeful commodities, as much as in gold and ſilver. In looking over the ſpecific articles of our export and import, I have often been aſtoniſhed for how ſmall a part of the ſupply of our conſumption, either luxurious or convenient, we are indebted to na⯑tions properly foreign to us.

Theſe conſiderations are entirely paſſed over by the author; they have been but too much neglected by moſt who have ſpeculated on this ſubject. But they ought never to be omitted by thoſe who mean to come to any thing like the true ſtate of the Britiſh trade. They compenſate, and they more than compenſate, every thing which the author can cut off with any appearance of reaſon for the over-entry of Britiſh goods; and they reſtore [33] to us that balance of four millions, which the author has thought proper on ſuch a very poor and limited comprehenſion of the object to reduce to £. 2. 500. 000.

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

It is in this ſpirit that ſome have looked upon thoſe accidents, that caſt an occaſional damp upon trade. Their imaginations entail theſe ac⯑cidents upon us in perpetuity. We have had ſome bad harveſts. This muſt very diſadvantageouſly affect the balance of trade, and the navigation of a people, ſo large a part of whoſe commerce is in grain. But, in knowing the cauſe, we are morally certain, that, according to the courſe of events, it cannot long ſubſiſt. In the three laſt years we have exported ſcarcely any grain; in good years that export hath been worth twelve hundred thouſand pounds and more; in the two laſt years, far from exporting, we have been obliged to import to the amount perhaps of our former ex⯑portation. So that in this article the balance muſt be £. 2. 000. 000 againſt us; that is, one million in the ceaſing of gain, the other in the increaſe of expenditure. But none of the author's promiſes or projects could have prevented this misfortune; and, thank God, we do not want him or them to relieve us from it; although, if his friends ſhould now come into power, I doubt not but they will be ready to take credit for any encreaſe of trade or exciſe, that may ariſe from the happy circum⯑ſtance of a good harveſt.

This connects with his loud laments and melancholy prognoſtications concerning the high price of the neceſſaries of life and the products of labour. With all his others I deny this fact; and I again call upon him to prove it. Take average and not accident, the grand and firſt neceſſary of life is cheap in this country; and that too as weighed, not againſt labour, which is its true counterpoiſe, but againſt money. Does he call the price of [34] wheat at this day, between 32 and 40 ſhillings per quarter in London, dear ⁿ? He muſt know that fuel (an object of the higheſt order in the neceſ⯑ſaries of life, and of the firſt neceſſity in almoſt every kind of manufacture) is in many of our provinces cheaper than in any part of the globe. Meat is on the whole not exceſſively dear, whatever its price may be at particular times and from particular accidents. If it has had any thing like an uniform riſe, this enhancement may eaſily be proved not to be owing to the encreaſe of taxes, but to uniform encreaſe of conſumption and of money. Diminiſh the latter, and meat in your markets will be ſufficiently cheap in account, but much dearer in effect; becauſe fewer will be in a condition to buy. Thus your apparent plenty will be real indigence. At preſent, even under temporary diſadvantages, the uſe of fleſh is greater here than any where elſe; it is continued without any in⯑terruption of Lents or meagre days; it is ſuſtained and growing even with the encreaſe of our taxes. But ſome have the art of converting even the ſigns of national proſperity into ſymptoms of decay and ruin. And our author, who ſo loudly diſclaims popularity, never fails to lay hold of the moſt vulgar popular prejudices and humours, in hopes to captivate the crowd. Even thoſe peeviſh diſpoſitions, which grow out of ſome tranſitory ſuffering, thoſe paſſing clouds which float in our changeable atmoſphere, are by him induſtriouſly figured into frightful ſhapes, in order firſt to terrify and then to govern the populace.

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

‘If our rival nations were in the ſame circumſtances with ourſelves, the augmentation of our Taxes would produce no ill conſequences: if we were obliged to raiſe our prices, they muſt, from the ſame cauſes, do the like, and could take no advantage by under-ſelling and under⯑working us. But the alarming conſideration to Great Britain is, that France is not in the ſame condition. Her diſtreſſes, during the war, were great, but they were immediate; her want of credit, as has been ſaid, compelled her to impoveriſh her people by raiſing the greateſt part of her ſupplies within the year; but the burdens ſhe impoſed on them were, in a great meaſure, temporary, and muſt be greatly diminiſhed by a [35] few years of peace. She could procure no conſiderable loans, there⯑fore ſhe has mortgaged no ſuch oppreſſive taxes as thoſe of Great Britain has impoſed in perpetuity for payment of intereſt. Peace muſt, therefore, ſoon re-eſtabliſh her commerce and manufactures, eſpecially as the comparative lightneſs of taxes, and the cheapneſs of living, in that country, muſt make France an aſylum for Britiſh manufactures and artificers.’ On this the author reſts the merits of his whole ſyſtem. And on this point I will join iſſue with him. If France is not at leaſt in the ſame condition, even in that very condition which the author falſely repreſents to be ours, if the very reverſe of his propoſition be not true, then I will admit his State of the Nation to be juſt; and all his inferences from that ſtate to be logical and concluſive. It is not ſurprizing, that the author ſhould hazard our opinion of his veracity. That is a virtue on which great ſtateſmen do not perhaps pique themſelves ſo much: but it is ſomewhat extraordinary, that he ſhould ſtake on a very poor calcu⯑lation of chances, all credit for care, for accuracy, and for knowledge of the ſubject of which he treats. He is raſh and inaccurate, becauſe he thinks he writes to a public ignorant and inattentive. But he may find himſelf in that reſpect, as in many others, greatly miſtaken.

In order to contraſt the light and vigorous condition of France with that of England, weak, and ſinking under her burthens, he ſtates in his 10th page, that France had raiſed £. 50. 314. 378 ſterling by taxes within the ſeveral years from the year 1756 to 1762 both incluſive. An Engliſhman muſt ſtand aghaſt at ſuch a repreſentation: To find France able to raiſe within the year ſums little inferior to all that we were able even to borrow on intereſt with all the reſources of the greateſt and moſt eſtabliſhed credit in the world! Europe was filled with aſtoniſhment when they ſaw Eng⯑land borrow in one year twelve millions. It was thought, and very juſtly, no ſmall proof of national ſtrength and financial ſkill to find a ſund for the payment of the intereſt upon this ſum. The intereſt of this, com⯑puted with the one per cent. annuities, amounted only to £. 600.000 a year. This, I ſay, was thought a ſurprizing effort even of credit. But this author talks, as of a thing not worth proving, and but juſt worth ob⯑ſerving, that France in one year raiſed ſixteen times that ſum without borrowing, and continued to raiſe ſums not far from equal to it for ſeve⯑ral years together? Suppoſe ſome Jacob Henriques had propoſed, in the year 1762, to prevent a perpetual charge on the nation by raiſing ten millions within the year. He would be conſidered not as a harſh financier who laid an heavy hand on the public; but as a poor viſionary, who had run mad on ſupplies and taxes. They who know that the whole land tax of England at 4s. in the pound, raiſes but two millions; will not eaſily apprehend that any ſuch ſums as the author has conjured [36] up can be raiſed even in the moſt opulent nations. France owed a large debt, and was incumbered with heavy eſtabliſhments, before that war. The author does not formally deny that ſhe borrowed ſomething in every year of its continuance; let him produce the funds for this aſtoniſhing annual addition to all her vaſt preceding taxes, an addition equal to the whole exciſe, cuſtoms, land and malt taxes of England taken together.

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

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

In ſpeaking of a foreign revenue, the very pretence to accuracy would be the moſt inaccurate thing in the world. Neither the author nor I can with certainty authenticate the information we communicate to the public, nor in an affair of eternal fluctuation arrive at perfect exactneſs. All we can do, and this we may be expected to do, is to avoid groſs errors and blunders of a capital nature. We cannot order the proper officer to lay the accounts before the houſe. But the reader muſt judge on the pro⯑bability of the accounts we lay before him. The author ſpeaks of France as raiſing her ſupplies for war by taxes within the year; and of her debt, as a thing ſcarcely worthy of notice. I affirm that ſhe borrowed large ſums in every year; and has thereby accumulated an immenſe debt. This debt continued after the war infinitely to embarraſs her affairs; and to find ſome means for its reduction was then and has ever ſince been the firſt object of her policy. But ſhe has ſo little ſucceeded in all her efforts, [37] that the perpetual debt of France is at this hour little ſhort of £. 100.000.000 ſterling; that ſhe ſtands charged with at leaſt 40.000.000 of Engliſh pounds of life-rents and tontines. The annuities paid at this day at the Hotel de Ville of Paris, which are by no means her ſole payments of that nature, amount to 139.000.000 of livres, that is, to 6.318.000 pounds; beſides Billets an porteur, and various detached and unfunded debts, to a great amount, and which bear an intereſt.

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

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

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

[38] There are three ſtandards to judge of the good condition of a nation with regard to its finances. 1ſt, The relief of the people. 2d, The equa⯑lity of ſupplies to eſtabliſhments. 3d, The ſtate of public credit. Try France on all theſe ſtandards.

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

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

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

This ſtate of the funds of France and England is ſufficient to convince even prejudice and obſtinacy, that if France and England are not in the ſame condition (as the author affirms they are not) the difference is [39] infinitely to the diſadvantage of France. This depreciation of their funds has not much the air of a nation lightening burthens and diſcharging debts.

Such is the true comparative ſtate of the two kingdoms in thoſe capi⯑tal points of view. Now as to the nature of the taxes which provide for this debt, as well as for their ordinary eſtabliſhments, the author has thought proper to affirm that ‘they are comparatively light;’ ‘that ſhe has mortgaged no ſuch oppreſſive taxes as ours:’ his effrontery on this head is intolerable. Does the author recollect a ſingle tax in England to which ſomething parallel in nature, and as heavy in burthen, does not exiſt in France? does he not know that the lands of the nobleſſe are ſtill under the load of the greater part of the old feudal charges, from which the gentry of England have been relieved for upwards of 100 years, and which were in kind, as well as burthen, much worſe than our mo⯑dern land tax? Beſides that all the gentry of France ſerve in the army on very ſlender pay, and to the utter ruin of their fortunes: All thoſe who are not noble have their lands heavily taxed. Does he not know that wine, brandy, ſoap, candles, leather, ſalt-petre, gunpowder, are taxed in France? has he not heard that government in France has made a monopoly of that great article of ſalt? that they compel the peo⯑ple to take a certain quantity of it, and at a certain rate, both rate and quantity fixed at the arbitrary pleaſure of the impoſer ^p? That they pay in France the Taille, an arbitrary impoſition on preſumed property? That a tax is laid in fact and name, on the ſame arbitrary ſtandard, upon the acquiſitions of their induſtry? and that in France a heavy capitation-tax is alſo paid, from the higheſt to the very pooreſt ſort of people? have we taxes of ſuch weight, or any thing at all of the compulſion, in the ar⯑ticle of ſalt? do we pay any taillage, any faculty-tax, any induſtry-tax? do we pay any capitation-tax whatſoever. I believe the people of Lon⯑don would fall into an agony to hear of ſuch taxes propoſed upon them as are paid in Paris. There is not a ſingle article of proviſion for man or beaſt, which enters that great city, and is not exciſed; corn, hay, meal, butchers meat, fiſh, ſowls, every thing. I do not here mean to cenſure the policy of taxes laid on the conſumption of great luxu⯑rious cities. I only ſtate the fact. We ſhould be with difficulty brought to hear of a tax of 50 s. upon every ox ſold in Smithfield. Yet this tax is paid in Paris. Wine, the lower ſort of wine, little better than Engliſh ſmall beer, pays 2d. a bottle. We indeed tax our beer: but the impoſition on ſmall beer is very far from heavy. In no part of [40] England are eatables of any kind the object of taxation. In almoſt every other country in Europe they are exciſed; more or leſs, in one place or in another. I have by me the ſtate of the revenues of many of the princi⯑pal nations on the continent; and on comparing them with ours, I think I am fairly warranted to aſſert, that England is the moſt lightly taxed of any of the great ſtates of Europe. They whoſe unnatural and ſullen joy ariſes from a contemplation of the diſtreſſes of their country will revolt at this poſition. But, if I am called upon, I will prove it beyond all poſſibi⯑lity of diſpute; even though this proof ſhould deprive theſe gentlemen of the ſingular ſatisfaction of conſidering their country as undone; and though the beſt civil government, the beſt conſtituted, and the beſt ma⯑naged revenue that ever the world beheld, ſhould be thoroughly vindi⯑cated from their perpetual clamours and complaints. As to our neigh⯑bour and rival France in addition to what I have here ſuggeſted, I ſay, and when the author chooſes formally to deny, I ſhall formally prove it, that her ſubjects pay more than England, on a computation of the wealth of both countries; that her taxes are more injudiciouſly and more op⯑preſſively impoſed; more vexatiouſly collected; come in a ſmaller pro⯑portion to the royal coffers, and are leſs applied by far to the public ſer⯑vice. I am not one of thoſe who chooſe to take the author's word for this happy and flouriſhing condition of the French finances, rather than at⯑tend to the changes, the violent puſhes, and the deſpair, of all her own financiers. Does he chooſe to be referred for the eaſy and happy condi⯑tion of the ſubject in France to the remonſtrances of their own parlia⯑ments, written with ſuch an eloquence, feeling, and energy, as I have not ſeen exceeded in any other writings? The author may ſay their complaints are exaggerated, and the effects of faction. I anſwer, that they are the repreſentations of numerous, grave, and moſt reſpectable bodies of men, upon the affairs of their own country. But, allowing that diſcontent and faction may pervert the judgment of ſuch venerable bodies in France, we have as good a right to ſuppoſe that the ſame cauſes may full as probably have produced from a private, however reſpectable perſon, that frightful, and, I truſt I have ſhewn, groundleſs repreſentation of our own affairs in England.

The author is ſo conſcious of the dangerous effects of that repreſenta⯑tion, that he thinks it neceſſary, and very neceſſary it is, to guard againſt them. He aſſures us ‘that he has not made that diſplay of the difficul⯑ties of his country, to expoſe her counſels to the ridicule of other ſtates, or to provoke a vanquiſhed enemy to inſult her; nor to excite the peo⯑ples rage againſt their governors, or ſink them into a deſpondency of the public welfare.’ I readily admit this apology for his intentions. God forbid I ſhould think any man capable of entertaining ſo execrable and [41] ſenſeleſs a deſign. The true cauſe of his drawing ſo ſhocking a picture is no more than this; and it ought rather to claim our pity than excite our indignation. He finds himſelf out of power; and this condition is into⯑lerable to him. The ſame ſun which gilds all nature, and exhilarates the whole creation, does not ſhine upon diſappointed ambition. It is ſome⯑thing that rays out of darkneſs, and inſpires nothing but gloom and me⯑lancholy. Men in this deplorable ſtate of mind find a comfort in ſpread⯑ing the contagion of their ſpleen. They find an advantage too; for it is a general popular error to imagine the loudeſt complainers for the public, to be the moſt anxious for its welfare. If ſuch perſons can anſwer the ends of relief and profit to themſelves, they are apt to be careleſs enough about either the means or the conſequences.

Whatever this complainant's motives may be, the effects can by no poſſibility be other than thoſe which he ſo ſtrongly, and, I hope truely, diſclaims all intention of producing. To verify this, the reader has only to conſider how dreadful a picture he has drawn in his 32d page of the ſtate of this kingdom; ſuch a picture as, I believe, has hardly been appli⯑cable without ſome exaggeration to the moſt degenerate and undone commonwealth that ever exiſted. Let this view of things be compared with the proſpect of a remedy which he propoſes in the page directly op⯑poſite and the ſubſequent. I believe no man living could have imagined it poſſible, except for the ſake of burleſquing a ſubject, to propoſe re⯑medies ſo ridiculouſly diſproportionate to the evil, ſo full of uncertainty in their operation, and depending for their ſucceſs in every ſtep upon the happy event of ſo many new, dangerous, and viſionary projects. It is not amiſs, that he has thought proper to give the publick ſome little notice of what they may expect from his friends when our affairs ſhall be com⯑mitted to their management. Let us ſee how the accounts of diſeaſe and remedy are balanced in his State of the Nation. In the firſt place, on the ſide of evils, he ſtates, ‘An empoveriſhed and heavily-burthened public. A declining trade and decreaſing ſpecie. The power of the crown never ſo much extended over the great; but the great without influence over the lower ſort. Parliament loſing its reverence with the people. The voice of the multitude ſet up againſt the ſenſe of the le⯑giſlature; a people luxurious and licentious, impatient of rule, and deſpiſing all authority. Government relaxed in every ſinew, and a corrupt ſelfiſh ſpirit pervading the whole. An opinion of many, that the form of government is not worth contending for. No attachment in the bulk of the people towards the conſtitution. No reverence for the cuſtoms of our anceſtors. No attachment but to private intereſt, nor any zeal but for ſelfiſh gratifications. Trade and manufactures going to ruin. Great Britain in danger of becoming tributary to France, [42] and the deſcent of the crown dependent on her pleaſure. Ireland in caſe of war to become a prey to France; and Great Britain, unable to recover Ireland, cede it by treaty (the author never can think of a treaty without making ceſſions), in order to purchaſe peace for herſelf. The colonies left expoſed to the ravages of a domeſtic, or the conqueſt of a foreign enemy.’—Gloomy enough, God knows. The author well obſerves, that a mind not totally devoid of feeling cannot look upon ſuch a proſpect without horror; and an heart capable of humanity muſt be P. 31 unable to bear its deſcription. He ought to have added, that no man of common diſcretion ought to have exhibited it to the public, if it were true; or of common honeſty, if it were falſe.

But now for the comfort; the day-ſtar which is to ariſe in our hearts; the author's grand ſcheme for totally reverſing this diſmal ſtate of things, and making us ‘happy at home and reſpected abroad, formidable in war and flouriſhing in peace. P. 33’

In this great work he proceeds with a facility equally aſtoniſhing and pleaſing. Never was financier leſs embaraſſed by the burthen of eſta⯑bliſhments, or with the difficulty of finding ways and means. If an eſta⯑bliſhment is troubleſome to him, he lops off at a ſtroke juſt as much of it as he chooſes. He mows down, without giving quarter, or aſſigning rea⯑ſon, army, navy, ordnance, ordinary, extraordinaries; nothing can ſtand before him. Then, when he comes to provide, Amalthea's horn is in his hands; and he pours out with an inexhauſtible bounty, taxes, duties, loans, and revenues, without uneaſineſs to himſelf, or burthen to the publick. Inſomuch, that when we conſider the abundance of his reſour⯑ces, we cannot avoid being ſurprized at his extraordinary attention to ſa⯑vings. But it is all the exuberance of his goodneſs.

This book has ſo much of a certain tone of power, that one would be almoſt tempted to think it written by ſome perſon who had been in high office. A man is generally rendered ſomewhat a worſe reaſoner for ha⯑ving been a miniſter. In private, the aſſent of liſtening and obſequious friends; in publick, the venal cry and prepared vote of a paſſive ſenate, confirm him in habits of begging the queſtion with impunity, and aſ⯑ſerting without thinking himſelf obliged to prove. Had it not been for ſome ſuch habits, the author could never have expected that we ſhould take his eſtimate for a peace eſtabliſhment ſolely on his word.

This eſtimate which he gives, is the great ground-work of his plan for the national redemption; and it ought to be well and firmly laid, P. 33 or what muſt become of the ſuperſtructure? One would have thought the natural method in a plan of reformation would be, to take the pre⯑ſent exiſting eſtimates as they ſtand; and then to ſhew what may be prac⯑ticably and ſafely defalcated from them. This would, I ſay, be the [43] natural courſe; and what would be expected from a man of buſineſs. But this author takes a very different method. For the ground of his ſpe⯑culation of a preſent peace eſtabliſhment, he reſorts to a former ſpecu⯑lation of the ſame kind, which was in the mind of the miniſter of the year 1764. Indeed it never exiſted any where elſe. "The plan," ſays P. 33 he, with his uſual eaſe, ‘has been already formed, and the outline drawn by the adminiſtration of 1764. I ſhall attempt to fill up the void and obliterated parts and trace its operation. The ſtanding ex⯑pence of the preſent (his projected) peace eſtabliſhment improved by the experience of the two laſt years may be thus eſtimated;’ and he eſti⯑mates it at £. 3. 468. 161.

Here too it would be natural to expect ſome reaſons for condemning the ſubſequent actual eſtabliſhments which have ſo much tranſgreſſed the limits of his plan of 1764, as well as ſome arguments in favour of his new project; which has in ſome articles exceeded, in others fallen ſhort, but on the whole is much below his old one. Hardly a word on any of theſe points, the only points however that are in the leaſt eſſential; for unleſs you aſſign reaſons for the encreaſe or diminution of the ſeveral ar⯑ticles of public charge, the playing at eſtabliſhments and eſtimates is an amuſement of no higher order, and of much leſs ingenuity, than Queſ⯑tions and commands, or What is my thought like? To bring more diſtinctly under the reader's view this author's ſtrange method of proceeding, I will lay before him the three ſchemes; viz. the idea of the miniſters in 1764, the actual eſtimates of the two laſt years as given by the author himſelf, and laſtly the new project of his political millennium:

It is not from any thing our author has any where ſaid, that you are enabled to find the ground, much leſs the juſtification, of the immenſe difference between theſe ſeveral ſyſtems; you muſt compare them your⯑ſelf, article by article; no very pleaſing employment, by the way, to compare the agreement or diſagreement of two chimeras. I now only ſpeak of the compariſon of his own two projects. As to the latter of them, it differs from the former, by having ſome of the articles diminiſh⯑ed, and others encreaſed. I find the chief article of reduction ariſes from Conſid. p. 43. St. of N. p. 33. the ſmaller deficiency of land and malt, and of the annuity funds, which [44] he brings down to £. 295. 000 in his new eſtimate, from £. 502. 400, which he had allowed for thoſe articles in the Conſiderations. With this reduction, owing, as it muſt be, merely to a ſmaller deficiency of funds, he has nothing at all to do. It can be no work and no merit of his. But with regard to the encreaſe, the matter is very different. It is all his own; the publick is loaded (for any thing we can ſee to the contrary) entirely gratis. The chief articles of the encreaſe are on the navy, and on the army and ord⯑nance extraordinaries; the navy being eſtimated in his State of the Nation Conſid. p. 43. S. of N. l. 33. £. 50. 000 a year more, and the army and ordnance extraordinaries £. 40. 000 more than he had thought proper to allow for them in that eſtimate in his Conſiderations, which he makes the foundation of his preſent project. He has given no ſort of reaſon, ſtated no ſort of neceſſity for this additional allowance either in the one article or the other. What is ſtill ſtronger, he admits that his allowance for the army and ordnance extras is too great, and expreſsly refers you to the Conſiderations; where, far from P. 34 giving £. 75. 000 a year to that ſervice, as the State of the Nation has done, the author apprehends his own ſcanty proviſion of £. 35. 000 to be by far too conſiderable, and thinks it may well admit of further reductions ^r. Thus, according to his own principles, this great oeconomiſt falls into a vicious prodigality; and is as far in his eſtimates from a conſiſtency with his own principles as with the real nature of the ſervices.

Still, however, his preſent eſtabliſhment differs from its archetype of 1764, by being, though raiſed in particular parts, upon the whole about £. 141. 000 ſmaller. It is improved, he tells us, by the experience of the two laſt years. One would have concluded that the peace eſtabliſhment of theſe two years had been leſs than that of 1764, in order to ſuggeſt to [45] the author his improvements, which enabled him to reduce it. But how does that turn out?

A vaſt encreaſe inſtead of diminution. The experience then of the two laſt years ought naturally to have given the idea of an heavier eſtabliſh⯑ment; but this writer is able to diminiſh by encreaſing, and to draw the effects of ſubtraction from the operations of addition. By means of theſe new powers he may certainly do whatever he pleaſes. He is indeed mo⯑derate enough in the uſe of them, and condeſcends to ſettle his eſtabliſh⯑ment at £. 3. 468. 161 a year.

However, he has not yet done with it; he has further ideas of ſaving, and new reſources of revenue. Theſe additional ſavings are principally two: 1ſt, It is to be hoped, ſays he, that the ſum of £. 250. 000 (which in the eſtimate he allows for the deficiency of land and malt) will be leſs P. 34 by £. 37. 924. ^t.

2d, That the ſum of £. 20. 000 allowed for the Foundling Hoſpital, and £. 1. 800 for American Surveys, will ſoon ceaſe to be neceſſary, as the ſervices will be compleated.

What follows with regard to the reſources is very well worthy of the reader's attention. ‘Of this eſtimate, ſays he, upwards of £. 300. 000 will be for the plantation ſervice; and that ſum, I hope, the people of Ireland and the colonies might be induced to take off Great Britain, and defray between them in the proportion of £. 200. 000 by the colonies, and £. 100. 000 by Ireland.’

Such is the whole of this mighty ſcheme. Take his reduced eſtimate, and his further reductions, and his reſources all together, and the reſult [46] will be; He will certainly lower the proviſion made for the navy. He will cut off largely (God knows what or how) from the army and ord⯑nance extraordinaries. He may be expected to cut off more. He hopes that the deficiencies on land and malt will be leſs than uſual; and he hopes that America and Ireland might be induced to take off £. 300.000 of our annual charges.

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

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

This is the amount of the only articles of ſaving he ſpeciſies; and yet P. 43 he chooſes to aſſert ‘that we may venture on the credit of them to re⯑duce the ſtanding expences of the eſtimate (from £. 3.468.161) to £. 3.300.000;’ that is, for a ſaving of £. 58.000, he is not aſhamed to take credit for a defalcation from his own ideal eſtabliſhment in a ſum of no leſs than £. 168.161! Suppoſe even that we were to take up the eſtimate of the Conſiderations (which is however abandoned in the State of the Nation), and reduce his £. 75.000 extraordinaries to the original £. 35.000. Still all theſe ſavings joined together give us but £. 98.000; that is, near £. 70.000 ſhort of the credit he calls for, and for which he has neither given any reaſon, or furniſhed any data whatſoever for others to reaſon upon.

Such are his ſavings, as operating on his own project of a peace eſta⯑bliſhment. Let us now conſider them as they affect the exiſting eſtabliſh⯑ment and our actual ſervices. He tells us, the ſum allowed in his eſti⯑mate for the navy is ‘£. 69.321 leſs than the grant for that ſervice in 1767; but in that grant £. 30.000 was included for the purchaſe of [47] hemp, and a ſaving of about £. 25.000 was made in that year.’ The author has got ſome ſecret in arithmetick. Theſe two ſums put toge⯑ther amount, in the ordinary way of computing, to £. 55.000, and not to £. 69.321. On what principle has he choſen to take credit for £. 14.321 more? To what this ſtrange inaccuracy is owing, I cannot poſſibly comprehend; nor is it very material, where the logic is ſo bad, and the policy ſo erroneous, whether the arithmetic be juſt or otherwiſe. But in a ſcheme for making this nation ‘happy at home and reſpected abroad, formidable in war and flouriſhing in peace,’ it is ſurely a little unfortunate for us, that he has picked out the Navy, as the very firſt object of his oeconomical experiments. Of all the public ſervices, that of the navy is the one in which tampering may be of the greateſt dan⯑ger, which can worſt be ſupplied upon an emergency, and of which any failure draws after it the longeſt and heavieſt train of conſequences. I am far from ſaying, that this or any ſervice ought not to be conducted with oeconomy. But I will never ſuffer the ſacred name of oeconomy to be beſtowed upon arbitrary defalcation of charge. The author tells us himſelf, ‘that to ſuffer the navy to rot in harbour for want of repairs and marines, would be to invite deſtruction.’ It would ſo. When the author talks therefore of ſavings on the navy eſtimate, it is incumbent on him to let us know, not what ſums he will cut off, but what branch of that ſervice he deems ſuperfluous. Inſtead of putting us off with un⯑meaning generalities, he ought to have ſtated what naval force, what na⯑val works, and what naval ſtores, with the loweſt eſtimated expence, are neceſſary to keep our marine in a condition commenſurate to its great ends. And this too not for the contracted and deceitful ſpace of a ſingle year, but for ſome reaſonable term. Every body knows that many charges can⯑not be in their nature regular or annual. In the year 1767 a ſtock of hemp, &c. was to be laid in; that charge intermits, but it does not end. Other charges of other kinds take their place. Great works are now carrying on at Portſmouth, but not of greater magnitude than utility; and they muſt be provided for. A year's eſtimate is therefore no juſt idea at all of a permanent peace eſtabliſhment. Had the author opened this matter upon theſe plain principles, a judgment might have been formed, how far he had contrived to reconcile national defence with public oeconomy. Till he has done it, thoſe who had rather depend on any man's reaſon than the greateſt man's authority, will not give him credit on this head for the ſaving of a ſingle ſhilling. As to thoſe ſavings which are already made, or in courſe of being made, whether right or wrong, he has nothing at all to do with them; they can be no part of his project, conſidered as a plan of reformation. I greatly fear that the error has not lately been on the ſide of profuſion.

[48] Another head is the ſaving on the Army and Ordnance extraordinaries, particularly in the American branch. What or how much reduction may be made, none of us, I believe, can with any fairneſs pretend to ſay; very little, I am convinced. The ſtate of America is extremely unſettled; more troops have been ſent thither; new diſpoſitions have been made; and this augmentation of number, and change of diſpoſition, has rarely, I believe, the effect of leſſening the bill for extraordinaries, which, if not this year, yet in the next, we muſt certainly feel. Care has not been wanting to introduce oeconomy into that part of the ſervice. The au⯑thor's great friend has made, I admit, ſome regulations; his immediate ſucceſſors have made more, and better. This part will be handled more ably and more minutely at another time; but none can cut down this bill of extraordinaries at his pleaſure. The author has given us nothing, but his word, for any certain or conſiderable reduction; and this we ought to be the more cautious in taking, as he has promiſed great ſavings in his Conſiderations, which he has not choſen to abide by in his State of the Nation.

On this head alſo of the American extraordinaries, he can take credit for nothing. As to his next, the leſſening of the deficiency of the land and malt-tax, particularly of the malt-tax; any perſon the leaſt conver⯑ſant in that ſubject cannot avoid a ſmile. This deficiency ariſes from charge of collection, from anticipation, and from defective produce. What has the author ſaid on the reduction of any head of this deficiency upon the land tax? On theſe points he is abſolutely ſilent. As to the deficiency on the malt tax, which is chiefly owing to a defective produce, he has, and can have, nothing to propoſe. If this deficiency ſhould be leſ⯑ſened by the encreaſe of malting in any years more than others (as it is a greatly fluctuating object), how much of this obligation ſhall we owe to this author's miniſtry? will it not be the caſe under any adminiſtration? muſt it not go to the general ſervice of the year, in ſome way or other, let the finances be in whoſe hands they will? But why take credit for ſo extremely reduced a deficiency at all? I can tell him he has no rational ground for it in the produce of the year 1767, and I ſuſpect will have full as little reaſon from the produce of the year 1768. That produce may indeed become greater, and the deficiency of courſe will be leſs. It may too be far otherwiſe. A fair and judicious financier will not, as this wri⯑ter has done, for the ſake of making out a ſpecious account, ſelect a fa⯑vourable year or two, at remote periods, and ground his calculations on thoſe. In 1768 he will not take the deficiencies of 1753 and 1754 for his ſtandard. Sober men have hitherto (and muſt continue this courſe to pre⯑ſerve this character) taken indifferently the mediums of the years imme⯑diately preceding. But a perſon who has a ſcheme from which he pro⯑miſes [49] much to the publick ought to be ſtill more cautious; he would chooſe to ground his ſpeculation rather on the loweſt mediums; becauſe all new ſchemes are known to be ſubject to ſome defect or failure not foreſeen; and which therefore every prudent propoſer will be ready to allow for, in order to lay his foundation as low and as ſolid as poſſible. Quite contrary is the practice of ſome politicians. They firſt propoſe ſavings, which they well know cannot be made, in order to get a reputa⯑tion for oeconomy. In due time they aſſume another, but a different me⯑rit, by providing for the ſervice they had before cut off or ſtraitened, and which they can then very eaſily prove to be neceſſary. In the ſame ſpirit, they raiſe magnificent ideas of revenue on funds which they know to be inſufficient. Afterwards, who can blame them, if they do not ſatisfy the public deſires? They are great artificers; but they cannot work without materials.

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

Another reſource of oeconomy yet remains, for the gleans the field very cloſely, £. 1. 800 for the American ſurveys. Why what ſignifies a diſpute about trifles? he ſhall have it. But while he is carrying it off, I ſhall juſt whiſper in his ear, that neither the ſaving that is allowed, or that which is doubted of, can at all belong to that future propoſed admi⯑ſtration, whoſe touch is to cure all our evils. Both the one and the other belong equally (as indeed all the reſt do) to the preſent admini⯑ſtration, to any adminiſtration; becauſe they are the gift of time, and not the bounty of the exchequer.

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

It is the conſtant cuſtom of this author, in all his writings, to take it for granted, that he has given you a revenue, whenever he can point out to you where you may have money, if you can contrive how to get at it; and this ſeems to be the maſter-piece of his financial ability. I think however, in his way of proceeding, he has behaved rather like an harſh ſtep-dame, than a kind nurſing mother to his country. Why ſtop at £. 300, 000? If his ſtate of things be at all founded, America and Ireland are much better able to pay £. 600, 000, than we are to ſatisfy our⯑ſelves with half that ſum. However, let us forgive him this one in⯑ſtance of tenderneſs towards Ireland and the colonies.

He ſpends a vaſt deal of time, in an endeavour to prove, that Ireland is able to bear greater impoſitions. He is of opinion, that the poverty P. 35 of the lower claſs of people there is, in a great meaſure, owing to a want of judicious taxes; that a land tax will enrich her tenants; that taxes are paid in England which are not paid there; that the colony trade is encreaſed above £. 100. 000 ſince the peace; that ſhe ought to have further indulgences in that trade; and ought to have further privileges in the woollen manufacture. From theſe premiſes, of what ſhe has, what ſhe has not, and what ſhe ought to have, he infers that Ireland will contribute £. 100. 000 towards the extraordinaries of the American eſta⯑bliſhment.

I ſhall make no objections whatſoever, logical or financial, to this rea⯑ſoning: many occur; but they would lead me from my purpoſe, from which I do not intend to be diverted, becauſe it ſeems to me of no ſmall importance. It will be juſt enough to hint, what I dare ſay many readers have before obſerved, that when any man propoſes new taxes in a country with which he is not perſonally converſant by reſidence or office, he ought to lay open its ſituation much more minutely and critically than this author has done, or than perhaps he is able to do. He ought not to content himſelf with ſaying that a ſingle article of her trade is encreaſed £. 100. 000 a year; he ought, if he argues from the encreaſe of trade to an encreaſe of taxes, to ſtate the whole trade, and not one branch of [51] trade only, he ought to enter fully into the ſtate of its remittances, and the courſe of its exchange, he ought likewiſe to examine whether all its eſtabliſhments are encreaſed or diminiſhed; and whether it incurs or diſcharges debt annually. But I paſs over all this; and am content to aſk a few plain queſtions.

Does the author then ſeriouſly mean to propoſe in parliament a land tax, or any tax for £. 100. 000 a year upon Ireland? If he does, and that fatally, by his temerity and our weakneſs, he ſhould ſucceed, then I ſay he will throw the whole empire from one end of it to the other into mor⯑tal convulſions. What is it that can ſatisfy the furious and perturbed mind of this man? is it not enough for him that ſuch projects have alienated our colonies from the mother country, and not to propoſe violently to tear our ſiſter kingdom alſo from our ſide, and to convince every de⯑pendent part of the empire, that, when a little money is to be raiſed, we have no ſort of regard to their antient cuſtoms, their opinions, their circumſtances, or their affections? He has however a douceur for Ireland in his pocket; benefits in trade, by opening the woollen manufacture to that nation. A very right idea in my opinion; but not more ſtrong in reaſon, than likely to be oppoſed by the moſt powerful and moſt violent of all local prejudices and popular paſſions. Firſt, a fire is already kindled by his ſchemes of taxation in America; he then propoſes one which will ſet all Ireland in a blaze; and his way of quenching both is by a plan which may kindle perhaps ten times a greater flame in Britain.

Will the author pledge himſelf, previous to his propoſal of ſuch a tax, to carry this enlargement of the Iriſh trade? if he does not, then the tax will be certain; the benefit will be leſs than problematical. In this view, his compenſation to Ireland vaniſhes into ſmoke; the tax, to their pre⯑judices, will appear ſtark naked in the light of an act of arbitrary power and oppreſſion. But, if he ſhould propoſe the benefit and tax together, then the people of Ireland, a very high and ſpirited people, would think it the worſt bargain in the world. They would look upon the one as wholly vitiated and poiſoned by the other; and, if they could not be ſe⯑parated, would infallibly reſiſt them both together. Here would be taxes indeed, amounting to an handſome ſum; £. 100. 000 very effectually voted, and paſſed through the beſt and moſt authentic forms; but how to be collected?—This is his perpetual manner. One of his projects depends for ſucceſs upon another project, and this upon a third, all of them equally viſionary. His finance is like the Indian philoſophy; his Earth is poiſed on the horns of a Bull, his Bull ſtands on an Elephant, his Ele⯑phant is ſupported by a Tortoiſe; and ſo on for ever.

As to his American £. 200. 000 a year, he is ſatisfied to repeat gravely, as he has done an hundred times before, that the Americans are able to [52] pay it. Well, and what then? does he lay open any part of his plan how they may be compelled to pay it, without plunging ourſelves into cala⯑mities that outweigh ten fold the propoſed benefit? or does he ſhew how they may be induced to ſubmit to it quietly? or does he give any thing like ſatisfaction concerning the mode of levying it, in commercial colonies one of the moſt important and difficult of all conſiderations? Nothing like it. To the ſtamp act, whatever its excellencies may be, I think he will not in reality recur, or even chooſe to aſſert that he means to do ſo, in caſe his miniſter ſhould come again into power. If he does, I will predict that ſome of the faſteſt friends of that miniſter will deſert him upon this point. As to port duties, he has damned them all in the lump, by declaring them ‘contrary to the firſt principles of coloni⯑zation, and not leſs prejudicial to the intereſts of Great Britain than to P. 37 thoſe of the colonies.’ Surely this ſingle obſervation of his, ought to have taught him a little caution; he ought to have begun to doubt, whe⯑ther there is not ſomething in the nature of commercial colonies, which renders them an unfit object of taxation; when port duties, ſo large a fund of revenue in almoſt all countries, are by himſelf found, in this caſe, not only improper, but deſtructive. However, he has here pretty well nar⯑rowed the field of taxation. Stamp act, hardly to be reſumed. Port duties, miſchievous. Exciſes, I believe he will ſcarcely think worth the collection (if any revenue ſhould be ſo) in America. Land tax (not⯑withſtanding his opinion of its immenſe uſe to agriculture), he will not directly propoſe, before he has thought again and again on the ſubject. Indeed he very readily recommends it for Ireland, and ſeems to think it not improper for America; becauſe, he obſerves, they already raiſe moſt of their taxes internally, including this tax. A moſt curious reaſon truly! becauſe their lands are already heavily burthened, he thinks it right to burthen them ſtill further. But he will recollect, for ſurely he cannot be ignorant of it, that the lands of America are not, as in England, let at a rent certain in money, and therefore cannot, as here, be taxed at a certain pound rate. They value them in groſs among themſelves; and none but themſelves in their ſeveral diſtricts can value them. Without their hearty concurrence and cooperation, it is evident we cannot advance a ſtep in the aſſeſſing or collecting any land tax. As to the taxes which in ſome places the Americans pay by the acre, they are merely duties of regula⯑tion; they are ſmall; and to encreaſe them, notwithſtanding the ſecret virtues of a land tax, would be the moſt effectual means of preventing that cultivation they are intended to promote. Beſides, the whole coun⯑try is heavily in arrear already for land taxes and quit rents. They have different methods of taxation in the different provinces, agreeable to their ſeveral local circumſtances. In New England by far the [53] greateſt part of their revenue is raiſed by faculty taxes and capitations. Such is the method in many others. It is obvious that parliament, unaſ⯑ſiſted by the colonies themſelves, cannot take ſo much as a ſingle ſtep in this mode of taxation. Then what tax is it he will impoſe? Why, after all the boaſting ſpeeches and writings of his faction for theſe four years, after all the vain expectations which they have held out to a deluded pub⯑lick, this their great advocate, after twiſting the ſubject every way, after writhing himſelf into every poſture, after knocking at every door, is obliged fairly to abandon every mode of taxation whatſoever in America. He thinks it the beſt method for parliament to impoſe the ſum, and reſerve P. 37, 38. the account to itſelf, leaving the mode of taxation to the colonies. But how and in what proportions? what does the author ſay? O, not a ſingle ſylla⯑ble on this the moſt material part of the whole queſtion. Will he, in parliament, undertake to ſettle the proportions of ſuch payments from Nova Scotia to Nevis, in no fewer than ſix and twenty different countries, varying in almoſt every poſſible circumſtance one from another? if he does, I tell him, he adjourns his revenue to a very long day. If he leaves it to themſelves to ſettle theſe proportions, he adjourns it to dooms-day.

Then what does he get by this method on the ſide of acquieſcence? will the people of America reliſh this courſe, of giving and granting and applying their money, the better becauſe their aſſemblies are made commiſſioners of the taxes? This is far worſe than all his former projects; for here, if the aſſemblies ſhall refuſe, or delay, or be negligent, or fraudulent, in this new⯑impoſed duty, we are wholly without remedy; and neither our cuſtom⯑houſe officers, nor our troops, nor our armed ſhips, can be of the leaſt uſe in the collection. Nothing can be a more contemptible idea (I will not call it an oppreſſive one, the harſhneſs is loſt in the folly) than that of propoſing to get any revenue from the Americans but by their freeſt and moſt chearful con⯑ſent. Moſt monied men know their own intereſt right well; and are as able, as any financier, in the valuation of riſques. Yet I think this financier will ſcarcely find that adventurer hardy enough, at any premium, to ad⯑vance a ſhilling upon a vote of ſuch taxes. Let him name the man, or ſet of men, that would do it. This is the only proof of the value of reve⯑nues; what would an intereſted man rate them at? His ſubſcription would be at ninety nine per cent. diſcount the very firſt day of its opening. Here is our only national ſecurity from ruin; a ſecurity upon which no man in his ſenſes would venture a ſhilling of his fortune. Yet he puts down thoſe articles as gravely in his ſupply for his peace eſtabliſhment, as if the money had been all fairly lodged in the exchequer.

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

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

I am then perſuaded that he cannot be in the leaſt alarmed about our ſituation, let his outcry be what he pleaſes. I will give him a reaſon for my opinion, which, I think, he cannot diſpute. All that he beſtows upon the nation, which it does not poſſeſs without him, and ſuppoſing it all ſure money, amounts to no more than a ſum of £. 300.000 a year. This, he thinks, will do the buſineſs compleatly, and render us flouriſhing at home, and reſpectable abroad. If the option between glory and ſhame, if our ſalvation or deſtruction, depended on this ſum, it is impoſſible that he ſhould have been active, and made a merit of that activity, in taking off a ſhilling in the pound of the land tax, which came up to his grand deſideratum, and upwards of £. 100.000 more. By this manoeuvre he left our trade, navigation and manufactures on the verge of deſtruction, our finances in ruin, our credit expiring, Ireland on the point of being ceded to France, the colonies of being torn to pieces, the ſucceſſion of the crown at the mercy of our great rival, and [55] the kingdom itſelf on the very point of becoming tributary to that haugh⯑ty power. All this for want of £. 300.000; for I defy the reader to point out any other revenue, or any other preciſe and defined ſcheme of politics, which he aſſigns for our redemption.

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

Beſides, here is another ſubject of diſtreſs, and a very ſerious one, which puts us again to a ſtand. The author may poſſibly not come into power (I only ſtate the poſſibility); he may not always continue in it: and if the contrary to all this ſhould fortunately for us happen, what in⯑ſurance on his life can be made for a ſum adequate to his loſs? Then we are thus unluckily ſituated, that the chance of an American and Iriſh re⯑venue of £. 300.000 to be managed by him, is to ſave us from ruin two or three years hence at beſt, to make us happy at home and glorious abroad; and the actual poſſeſſion of £. 450.000 Engliſh taxes cannot ſo much as protract our ruin without him. Propria haec ſi dona fuiſſent! So we are ſtaked on four chances; his power, its permanence, the ſuc⯑ceſs of his projects, and the duration of his life. Any one of theſe failing, [56] we are gone. This is no unfair repreſentation; ultimately all hangs on his life, becauſe, in his account of every ſet of men that have held or ſupported adminiſtration, he finds neither virtue or ability in any but himſelf. Indeed he pays (through their meaſures) ſome compliments to Lord Bute and Lord Deſpenſer. But to the latter, this is, I ſuppoſe, but a civility to old acquaintance; to the former, a little ſtroke of poli⯑ticks. We may therefore fairly ſay, that our only hope is his life; and he has, to make it the more ſo, taken care to cut off any reſource which we poſſeſſed independent of him.

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

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

[57] It is true the author, in his eſtimate of ways and means, takes credit for £. 400. 000 a year, Indian revenue. But he will not very poſitively inſiſt, that we ſhould put this revenue to the account of his plans or his power; and for a pretty plain reaſon: we are already near two years in poſſeſſion of it. By what means we came to that poſſeſſion, is a pretty long ſtory; however, I ſhall give nothing more than a ſhort abſtract of the proceeding, in order to ſee whether the author will take to himſelf any part in that meaſure.

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

In conſequence of this ſcheme, the terrors of a parliamentary enquiry were hung over them. A judicature was aſſerted in parliament to try this queſtion. But, leſt this judicial character ſhould chance to inſpire certain ſtubborn ideas of law and right, it was argued, that the judicature was arbitrary, and ought not to determine by the rules of law, but by their opinion of policy and expediency. Nothing exceeded the violence of ſome of the managers, except their impotence. They were bewildered by their paſſions, and by their want of knowledge or want of conſideration of the ſubject. The more they advanced, the further they found themſelves from their object.—All things ran into confuſion. The miniſters quarrelled among themſelves. They diſclaimed one another. They ſuſpended vio⯑lence, and ſhrunk from treaty. The inquiry was almoſt at its laſt gaſp; [58] when ſome active perſons of the company were given to underſtand, that this hoſtile proceeding was only ſet up in in terrorem; that government was far from an intention of ſeizing upon the poſſeſſions of the company. Adminiſtration, they ſaid, was ſenſible, that the idea was in every light full of abſurdity; and that ſuch a ſeizure was not more out of their power, than remote from their wiſhes; and therefore, if the company would come in a liberal manner to the houſe, they certainly could not fail of putting a ſpeedy end to this diſagreeable buſineſs, and of opening the way to an advantageous treaty.

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

This propoſal was thought by themſelves liberal indeed; and they expected the higheſt applauſes for it. However, their reception was very different from their expectations. When they brought up their plan to the houſe of commons, the offer, as it was natural, of £. 400.000, was very well reliſhed. But nothing could be more diſguſtful than the £. 80.000 which the company had divided amongſt themſelves. A violent tempeſt of public indignation and fury roſe againſt them. The heads of people turned. The company was held well able to pay £. 400.000 a year to government; but bankrupts, if they attempted to divide the fifth part of it among them⯑ſelves. An ex poſt facto law was brought in with great precipitation, for an⯑nulling this dividend. In the bill was inſerted a clauſe, which ſuſpended for about a year the right, which, under the public faith, the company enjoyed, of making their own dividends. Such was the diſpoſition and temper of the houſe, that, although the plain face of facts, reaſon, arithmetic, all the authority, parts, and eloquence in the kingdom, were againſt this bill; though all the chancellors of the exchequer, who had held that office from the beginning of this reign, oppoſed it, yet, a few placemen [59] of the ſubordinate departments ſprung out of their ranks, took the lead, and, by an opinion of ſome ſort of ſecret ſupport, carried the bill with an high hand, leaving the then ſecretary of ſtate, and the chancellor of the exchequer, in a very moderate minority. In this diſtracted ſituation, the managers of the bill, notwithſtanding their triumph, did not venture to propoſe the payment of the civil liſt debt. The chancellor of the exchequer was not in good humour enough, after his late defeat by his own troops, to cooperate in ſuch a deſign; ſo they made an act, to lock up the money in the exchequer until they ſhould have time to look about them, and ſettle among themſelves what they are to do with it.

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

So much for the revenues, which are nothing but his viſions, or already the national poſſeſſions without any act of his. It is eaſy to parade with an high talk of parliamentary rights, of the univerſality of legiſlative powers, and of uniform taxation. Men of ſenſe, when new projects come before them, always think, a diſcourſe proving the mere right or mere power of acting in the manner propoſed, to be no more than a very un⯑pleaſant way of miſpending time. They muſt ſee the object to be of proper [60] magnitude to engage them; they muſt ſee the means of compaſſing it to be next to certain; the miſchiefs not to counterbalance the profit; they will examine how a propoſed impoſition or regulation agrees with the opi⯑nions of thoſe who are likely to be affected by it; they will not deſpiſe the conſideration even of their habitudes and prejudices. They wiſh to know how it accords or diſagrees with the true ſpirit of prior eſtabliſhments, whether of government or of finance; becauſe they well know, that in the complicated oeconomy of great kingdoms, and immenſe revenues, which, in a length of time, and by a variety of accidents, have coaleſced into a ſort of body, an attempt towards a compulſory equality in all circum⯑ſtances, and an exact practical definition of the ſupreme rights in every caſe, is the moſt dangerous and chimerical of all enterprizes. The old building ſtands well enough, though part Gothic, part Grecian, and part Chineſe, until an attempt is made to ſquare it into uniformity. Then it may come down upon our heads all together in much uniformity of ruin; and great will be the fall thereof. Some people, inſtead of inclining to debate the matter, only feel a ſort of nauſea, when they are told, that ‘protection calls for ſupply,’ and that ‘all the parts ought to contribute to the ſupport of the whole.’ Strange argument for great and grave deliberation! As if the ſame end may not, and muſt not be compaſſed according to its circumſtances, by a great diverſity of ways. Thus in Great Britain ſome of our eſtabliſhments are apt for the ſupport of credit. They ſtand therefore upon a principle of their own, diſtinct from, and in ſome reſpects contrary to, the relation between prince and ſubject. It is a new ſpecies of contract ſuperinduced upon the old contract of the ſtate. The idea of power muſt as much as poſſible be baniſhed from it; for power and credit are things adverſe, incompatible, Non bene conveniunt, nec in una ſede morantur. Such eſtabliſhments are our great monied companies. To tax them would be critical and dangerous, and contradictory to the very purpoſe of their inſtitution; which is credit, and cannot therefore be taxation. But the nation, when it gave up that power, did not give up the advantage; but ſuppoſed, and with reaſon, that government was over⯑paid in credit for what it ſeemed to loſe in authority. In ſuch a caſe, to talk of the rights of ſovereignty, is quite idle. Other eſtabliſhments ſupply other modes of public contribution. Our trading companies, as well as individual importers, are a fit ſubject of a revenue by cuſtoms. Some eſta⯑bliſhments pay us by a monopoly of their conſumption and their produce. This, nominally no tax, in reality comprehends all taxes. Such eſtabliſh⯑ments are our colonies. To tax them, would be as erroneous in policy, as rigorous in equity. Ireland ſupplies us by furniſhing troops in war; and by bearing part of our foreign eſtabliſhment in peace. She aids us at all times by the money that her abſentees ſpend amongſt us; which is no ſmall part [61] of the rental of that kingdom. Thus Ireland contributes her part. Some objects bear port duties. Some are fitter for an inland exciſe. The mode varies, the object is the ſame. To ſtrain theſe from their old and inveterate leanings might impair the old benefit, and not anſwer the end of the new project. Among all the great men of antiquity, Procruſtes ſhall never be my hero of legiſlation; with his iron bed, the allegory of his government, and the type of ſome modern policy, by which the long limb was to be cut ſhort, and the ſhort tortured into length. Such was this ſtate bed of uniformity! He would, I conceive, be a very indif⯑ferent farmer, who complained that his ſheep did not plough, or his horſes yield him wool; though it would be an idea full of equality. They may think this right in ruſtic oeconomy, who think it available in the politic;

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

Two of them ſtand out in high relievo beyond the reſt. The firſt is a change in the internal repreſentation of this country, by enlarging our number of conſtituents. The ſecond is an addition to our repreſentatives, by new American members of parliament. I paſs over here all conſi⯑derations how far ſuch a ſyſtem will be an improvement of our conſtitu⯑tion according to any ſound theory. Not that I mean to condemn ſuch ſpeculative enquiries concerning this great object of the national attention. They may tend to clear doubtful points, and poſſibly may lead, as they have often done, to real improvements. What I object to, is their introduction into a diſcourſe relating to the immediate ſtate of our affairs, and recommending plans of practical government, In this view, I ſee nothing in them but what is uſual with the author; an attempt to raiſe diſcontent in the people of England, to balance thoſe diſcontents the meaſures of his friends had already raiſed in America. What other rea⯑ſon can he have for ſuggeſting, that we are not happy enough to enjoy a ſufficient number of voters in England? I believe that moſt ſober thinkers on this ſubject are rather of opinion, that our fault is on the other ſide; and that it would be more in the ſpirit of our conſtitution, and more agree⯑able to the pattern of our beſt laws, by leſſening the number, to add to the weight and independency of our voters. And truly, conſidering the [62] immenſe and dangerous charge of elections; the proſtitute and daring venality, the corruption of manners, the idleneſs and profligacy of the lower ſort of voters, no prudent man would propoſe to encreaſe ſuch an evil, if it be, as I fear it is, out of our power to adminiſter to it any remedy. The author propoſes nothing further. If he has any improvements that may balance or may leſſen this inconvenience, he has thought proper to keep them as uſual in his own breaſt. Since he has been ſo reſerved, I ſhould have wiſhed he had been as cautious with regard to the project itſelf. Firſt, becauſe he obſerves juſtly, that his ſcheme, however it might improve the platform, can add nothing to the authority of the legiſlature; much I fear it will have a contrary operation. For, authority depending on opinion at leaſt as much as on duty, an idea circulated among the people that our conſtitution is not ſo perfect as it ought to be, before you are ſure of mending it, is a certain method of leſſening it in the public opinion. Of this irreverent opinion of parliament, the author himſelf complains in one part of his book; and he endeavours to encreaſe it in the other. Has he well conſi⯑dered what an immenſe operation any change in our conſtitution is? how many diſcuſſions, parties, and paſſions, it will neceſſarily excite; and when you open it to enquiry in one part, where the enquiry will ſtop? Experience ſhews us, that no time can be fit for ſuch changes but a time of general confuſion; when good men, finding every thing already broke up, think it right to take advantage of the opportunity of ſuch de⯑rangement in favour of an uſeful alteration. Perhaps a time of the greateſt ſecurity and tranquillity both at home and abroad may likewiſe be fit; but will the author affirm this to be juſt ſuch a time? Transferring an idea of military to civil prudence, he ought to know how dangerous it is to make an alteration of your diſpoſition in the face of an enemy.

Now comes his American repreſentation. Here too, as uſual, he takes no notice of any difficulty, or propoſes any ſort of ſolution. He throws you his politics, as he does his revenue; do you make ſomething of them if you can. Is not the reader a little aſtoniſhed at the propoſal of an American repreſentation from that quarter? It is propoſed merely as a project of ſpeculative improvement; not from the neceſſity in the caſe, not to add any thing to the authority of parliament: but that we may afford a greater attention to the concerns of the Ame⯑ricans, P. 40 P. 39. 40. and give them a better opportunity of ſtating their grievances, and of obtaining redreſs. I am glad to find the author has at length diſ⯑covered, that we have not given a ſufficient attention to their concerns, or a proper redreſs to their grievances. His great friend would once have been exceedingly diſpleaſed with any perſon, who ſhould tell him, that he did not attend ſufficiently to thoſe concerns. He thought he did ſo, [63] when he regulated the colonies over and over again: he thought he did ſo, when he formed two general ſyſtems of revenue; one of port-duties, and the other of internal taxation. Theſe ſyſtems ſuppoſed, or ought to ſuppoſe, the greateſt attention to, and the moſt detailed information of, all their affairs. However, by contending for the American repreſenta⯑tion, he ſeems at laſt driven virtually to admit, that great caution ought to be uſed in the exerciſe of all our legiſlative rights over an object ſo remote from our eye, and ſo little connected with our immediate feelings; that in prudence we ought not to be quite ſo ready with our taxes, until we can ſecure the deſired repreſentation in parliament. Perhaps it may be ſome time before this hopeful ſcheme can be brought to perfect ma⯑turity; although the author ſeems to be no wiſe aware of any obſtructi⯑ons that lie in the way of it. He talks of his union, juſt as he does of his taxes and his ſavings, with as much ſang froid and eaſe, as if his wiſh and the enjoyment were exactly the ſame thing. He appears not to have troubled his head with the infinite difficulty of ſettling that repre⯑ſentation on a fair balance of wealth and numbers throughout the ſeveral provinces of America and the Weſt-Indies, under ſuch an infinite variety of circumſtances. It coſts him nothing to fight with nature, and to conquer the order of Providence, which manifeſtly oppoſes itſelf to the poſſibility of ſuch a parliamentary union.

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

However, in order to facilitate every thing to the author, we will ſup⯑poſe them all once more elected, and ſteering again to old England with a good heart, and a fair weſterly wind in their ſtern. On their arrival, [64] they find all in a hurry and buſtle; in and out; condolence and congra⯑tulation; the crown is demiſed. Another parliament is to be called. Away back to America again on a fourth voyage, and to a third election. Does the author mean to make our kings as immortal in their perſonal as in their politick character? Or, whilſt he bountifully adds to their life, will he take from them their prerogative of diſſolving parliaments, in fa⯑vour of the American union? Or are the American repreſentatives to be perpetual, and to feel neither demiſes of the crown, nor diſſolutions of parliament?

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

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

Enough of this viſionary union; in which much extravagance appears without any fancy, and the judgement is ſhocked without any thing to refreſh the imagination. It looks as if the author had dropped down from [65] the moon, without any knowledge of the general nature of this globe, of the general nature of its inhabitants, without the leaſt acquaintance with the affairs of this country. Governor Pownal has handled the ſame ſubject. To do him juſtice, he treats it upon far more rational principles of ſpeculation; and much more like a man of buſineſs. He thinks (erroneouſly, I conceive) but he does think, that our legiſlative rights are incomplete without ſuch a repreſentation. It is no wonder therefore, that he endeavours by every means to obtain it. Not like our author, who is always on velvet, he is aware of ſome difficulties; and he propoſes ſome ſolutions. But nature is too hard for both theſe authors; and America is, and ever will be, without actual repreſentation in the houſe of commons: nor will any miniſter be wild enough even to pro⯑poſe ſuch a repreſentation in parliament; however he may chooſe to throw out that project, together with others equally far from his real opinions, and remote from his deſigns, merely to fall in with the different views, and captivate the affections, of different ſorts of men.

Whether theſe projects ariſe from the author's real political principles, or are only brought out in ſubſervience to his political views, they compoſe the whole of any thing that is like preciſe and definite, which the author has given us to expect from that adminiſtration which is ſo much the ſubject of his praiſes and prayers. As to his general propoſitions, that ‘there is a deal of difference between impoſſibilities and great difficul⯑ties;’ ‘that a great ſcheme cannot be carried unleſs made the buſineſs of ſucceſſive adminiſtrations;’ that ‘virtuous and able men are the fitteſt to ſerve their country;’ all this I look on no more than ſo much rubble to fill up the ſpaces between the regular maſonry. Pretty much in the ſame light, I cannot forbear conſidering his detached obſervations on commerce; ſuch as, that ‘the ſyſtem for colony regulations would be very ſimple, and mu⯑tually beneficial to Great Britain and her colonies, if the old navigation P. 39 laws were adhered to.’ That ‘the tranſportation ſhould be in all caſes in ſhips belonging to Britiſh ſubjects.’ That ‘even Britiſh ſhips ſhould not be generally received into the colonies from any part of Europe, except the dominions of Great Britain.’—That ‘it is unreaſonable that corn and ſuch like products ſhould be reſtrained to come firſt to a Britiſh port.’ What do all theſe fine obſervations ſignify? ſome of them condemn as ill prac⯑tices, things that never were practiſed at all. Some recommend to be done, things that always have been done. Others indeed convey, though obliquely and looſely, ſome inſinuations highly dangerous to our commerce. If I could prevail on myſelf to think the author meant to ground any practice upon theſe general propoſitions, I ſhould think it very neceſſary to aſk a few queſtions about ſome of them. For inſtance, what does he mean by talking of an adherence to the old navigation laws? Does he mean, [66] that the particular law, 12 Car. II, c. 19, commonly called the act of navigation, is to be adhered to, and that the ſeveral ſubſequent additions, amendments, and exceptions, ought to be all repealed? If ſo, he will make a ſtrange havock in the whole ſyſtem of our trade laws, which have been univerſally acknowledged to be full as well founded in the alterations and exceptions, as the act of Charles the Second, in the original proviſions; and to purſue full as wiſely, the great end of that very politic law, the encreaſe of the Britiſh navigation. I fancy the writer could hardly propoſe any thing more alarming to thoſe immediately intereſted in that navi⯑gation than ſuch a repeal. If he does not mean this, he has got no farther than a nugatory propoſition, which nobody can contradict, and for which no man is the wiſer.

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

I have now gone through all which I think immediately eſſential in the author's ideas of war, of peace, of the comparative ſtates of England and France, of our actual ſituation; of his projects of oeconomy, of finance, of commerce, and of conſtitutional improvement. There remains nothing [67] now to be conſidered, except his heavy cenſures upon the adminiſtration which was formed in 1765; which is commonly known by the name of the Marquis of Rockingham's adminiſtration, as the adminiſtration which pre⯑ceded it is by that of Mr. Grenville. Theſe cenſures relate chiefly to three heads: 1. To the repeal of the American ſtamp act. 2. To the com⯑mercial regulations then made. 3. To the courſe of foreign negotiations during that ſhort period.

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

I intend to ſtate as ſhortly as I am able, the general condition of public affairs, and the diſpoſition of the minds of men, at the time of the remark⯑able change of ſyſtem in 1765. The reader will have thereby a more diſtinct view of the comparative merits of theſe ſeveral plans, and will re⯑ceive more ſatisfaction concerning the ground and reaſon of the meaſures which were then purſued, than, I believe, can be derived from the peruſal of thoſe partial repreſentations contained in the State of the Nation, and the other writings of thoſe who have continued, for now near three years, [68] in the undiſturbed poſſeſſion of the preſs. This will, I hope, be ſome apology for my dwelling a little on this part of the ſubject.

On the reſignation of the Earl of Bute, in 1763, our affairs had been delivered into the hands of three miniſters of his recommendation; Mr. Grenville, the Earl of Egremont, and the Earl of Halifax. This arrange⯑ment, notwithſtanding the retirement of Lord Bute, announced to the publick a continuance of the ſame meaſures; nor was there more reaſon to expect a change from the death of the Earl of Egremont. The Earl of Sandwich ſupplied his place. The Duke of Bedford, and the gentlemen who act in that connexion, and whoſe general character and politics were ſufficiently underſtood, added to the ſtrength of the miniſtry, without making any alteration in their plan of conduct. Such was the conſtitu⯑tion of the miniſtry which was changed in 1765.

As to their politics, the principles of the peace of Paris governed in fo⯑reign affairs. In domeſtic, the ſame ſcheme prevailed, of contradicting the opinions, and diſgracing moſt of the perſons, who had been countenanced and employed in the late reign. The inclinations of the people were little attended to; and a diſpoſition to the uſe of forcible methods ran through the whole tenour of adminiſtration. The nation in general was uneaſy and diſſatisfied. Sober men ſaw cauſes for it in the conſtitu⯑tion of the miniſtry, and the conduct of the miniſters. The miniſters, who have uſually a ſhort method on ſuch occaſions, attributed their unpopularity wholly to the efforts of faction. However this might be, the licentiouſneſs and tumults of the common people, and the con⯑tempt of government, of which our author ſo often and ſo bitterly com⯑plains, as owing to the miſmanagement of the ſubſequent adminiſtrations, had at no time riſen to a greater or a more dangerous height. The meaſures taken to ſuppreſs that ſpirit, were as violent and licentious as the ſpirit itſelf; injudicious, precipitate, and ſome of them illegal. In⯑ſtead of allaying, they tended infinitely to inflame the diſtemper; and who⯑ever will be at the leaſt pains to examine, will find thoſe meaſures, not only the cauſes of the tumults which then prevailed, but the real ſources of almoſt all the diſorders which have ariſen ſince that time: more in⯑tent on making a victim to party, than an example of juſtice, they blun⯑dered in the method of purſuing their vengeance. By this means a diſ⯑covery was made of many practices, common indeed in the office of ſecre⯑tary of ſtate, but wholly repugnant to our laws, and the genius of the Engliſh conſtitution. One of the worſt of theſe was, the wanton and indiſcriminate ſeizure of papers, even in caſes where the ſafety of the ſtate was not pretended in juſtification of ſo harſh a proceeding. The temper of the miniſtry had excited a jealouſy, which made the people more than commonly vigilant, concerning every power which was exerciſed by [69] government. The abuſe, however ſanctioned by cuſtom, was evident; but the miniſtry, inſtead of reſting in a prudent inactivity, or (what would have been ſtill more prudent) taking the lead, in quieting the minds of the people, and aſcertaining the law upon thoſe delicate points, made uſe of the whole influence of government to prevent a parliamentary reſo⯑lution againſt the practices of office. And leſt the colourable reaſons, of⯑fered in argument againſt this parliamentary procedure, ſhould be miſ⯑taken for the real motives of their conduct, all the advantage of privilege, all the arts and fineſſes of pleading, and great ſums of public money, were laviſhed, to prevent any deciſion upon thoſe practices in the courts of juſtice. In the mean time, in order to weaken, ſince they could not immediately deſtroy, the liberty of the preſs, the privilege of parliament was voted away in all accuſations for a ſeditious libel. The freedom of debate in parliament itſelf was no leſs menaced. Officers of the army, of long and meritorious ſervice, and of ſmall fortunes, were choſen as victims for a ſingle vote; by an exertion of miniſterial power, which had been very rarely uſed, and which is extremely unjuſt, as depriving men not only of a place, but a profeſſion, and is indeed of the moſt per⯑nicious example both in a civil and a military light.

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

The greateſt part of theſe regulations were made for America; and they fell ſo indiſcriminately on all ſorts of contraband, or ſuppoſed contraband, that ſome of the moſt valuable branches of trade were driven violently from our ports; which cauſed an univerſal conſternation throughout the [70] colonies. Every part of the trade was infinitely diſtreſſed by them. Men of war now for the firſt time, armed with regular commiſſions of cuſtom-houſe officers, inveſted the coaſts, and gave to the collection of reve⯑nue the air of hoſtile contribution. About the ſame time that theſe regula⯑tions ſeemed to threaten the deſtruction of the only trade from whence the plantations derived any ſpecie, an act was made, putting a ſtop to the future emiſſion of paper currency, which uſed to ſupply its place among them. Hand in hand with this went another act for obliging the colonies to pro⯑vide quarters for ſoldiers. Inſtantly followed another law, for levying throughout all America new port duties, upon a vaſt variety of commodi⯑ties of their conſumption, and ſome of which lay heavy upon objects neceſ⯑ſary for their trade and fiſhery. Immediately upon heels of theſe, and amidſt the uneaſineſs and confuſion produced by a crowd of new impo⯑ſitions and regulations, ſome good, ſome evil, ſome doubtful, all crude and ill-conſidered, came another act, for impoſing an univerſal ſtamp-duty on the colonies; and this was declared to be little more than an experiment, and a foundation of future revenue. To render theſe proceedings the more irritating to the colonies, the principal argument uſed in favour of their ability to pay ſuch duties, was the liberality of the grants of their aſ⯑ſemblies during the late war. Never could any argument be more in⯑ſulting and mortifying to a people habituated to the granting of their own money.

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

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

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

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

The repeal of that act was propoſed. It was much too ſerious a mea⯑ſure, and attended with too many difficulties upon every ſide, for the then miniſtry to have undertaken it, as ſome paltry writers have aſſerted, from envy and diſlike to their predeceſſors in office. As little could it be owing to perſonal cowardice, and dread of conſequences to themſelves. Mini⯑ſters, timorous from their attachment to place and power, will fear more from the conſequences of one court intrigue, than from a thouſand diffi⯑culties to the commerce and credit of their country, by diſturbances at three thouſand miles diſtance. From which of theſe the miniſters had moſt to apprehend at that time, is known, I preſume, univerſally. Nor did they take that reſolution from a want of the fulleſt ſenſe of the incon⯑veniencies which muſt neceſſarily attend a meaſure of conceſſion from the ſovereign to the ſubject. That it muſt encreaſe the inſolence of the mu⯑tinous ſpirits in America, was but too obvious. No great meaſure indeed, at a very difficult criſis, can be purſued, which is not attended with ſome [73] miſchief; none but conceited pretenders in public buſineſs will hold any other language; and none but weak and unexperienced men will believe them, if they ſhould. If we were found in ſuch a criſis, let thoſe whoſe bold deſigns, and whoſe defective arrangements, brought us into it, anſwer for the conſequences. The buſineſs of the then miniſtry evidently was, to take ſuch ſteps, not as the wiſhes of our author, or as their own wiſhes dictated, but as the bad ſituation in which their predeceſſors had left them abſolutely required.

The diſobedience to this act was univerſal throughout America; no⯑thing, it was evident, but the ſending a very ſtrong military, backed by a very ſtrong naval force, would reduce the ſeditious to obedience. To ſend it to one town, would not be ſufficient; every province of America muſt be traverſed, and muſt be ſubdued. I do not entertain the leaſt doubt but this could be done. We might, I think, without much difficulty have de⯑ſtroyed our colonies. This deſtruction might be effected, probably in a year, or in two at the utmoſt. If the queſtion was upon a foreign nation, where every ſucceſsful ſtroke adds to your own power, and takes from that of a rival, a juſt war with ſuch a certain ſuperiority would be undoubtedly an ad⯑viſeable meaſure. But four million of debt due to our merchants, the to⯑tal ceſſation of a trade annually worth four million more, a large foreign traffick, much home manufacture, a very capital immediate revenue ari⯑ſing from colony imports, indeed the produce of every one of our reve⯑nues greatly depending on this trade, all theſe were very weighty accu⯑mulated conſiderations, at leaſt well to be weighed, before that ſword was drawn, which even by its victories muſt produce all the evil effects of the greateſt national defeat. How public credit muſt have ſuffered, I need not ſay. If the condition of the nation, at the cloſe of our foreign war, was what this author repreſents it, ſuch a civil war would have been a bad couch on which to repoſe our wearied virtue. Far from being able to have entered into new plans of oeconomy, we muſt have launched into a new ſea, I fear a boundleſs ſea, of expence. Such an addition of debt, with ſuch a diminution of revenue and trade, would have left us in no want of a State of the Nation to aggravate the picture of our diſtreſſes.

Our trade felt this to its vitals: and our then miniſters were not aſhamed to ſay, that they ſympathiſed with the feelings of our merchants. The univerſal alarm of the whole trading body of England will never be laughed at by them as an ill-grounded or a pretended panick. The uni⯑verſal deſire of that body will always have great weight with them in every conſideration connected with commerce; neither ought the opinion of that body to be ſlighted (notwithſtanding the contemptuous and inde⯑cent language of this author, and his aſſociates), in any conſideration whatſoever, of revenue. Nothing amongſt us is more quickly or deeply [74] affected by taxes of any kind, than trade; and if an American tax was a real relief to England, no part of the community would be ſooner, or more materially, relieved by it than our merchants. But they well know that the trade of England muſt be more burthened by one penny raiſed in America, than by three in England; and if that penny be raiſed with the uneaſineſs, the diſcontent, and the confuſion of America, more than by ten.

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

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

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

The partizans of the new ſyſtem, who, on moſt occaſions, take credit for full as much knowledge as they poſſeſs, think proper on this occaſion [75] to counterfeit an extraordinary degree of ignorance, and in conſequence of it to aſſert ‘that the balance (between the colonies and Great Britain), Conſid. p. 74. is unknown, and that no important concluſion can be drawn from pre⯑miſes ſo very uncertain.’ Now to what can this ignorance be owing? were the navigation laws made, that this balance ſhould be unknown? is it from the courſe of exchange that it is unknown, which all the world knows to be greatly and perpetually againſt the colonies? is it from the doubtful nature of the trade we carry on with the colonies? are not theſe ſchemiſts well apprized, that the coloniſts, particularly thoſe of the nor⯑thern provinces, import more from Great Britain, ten times more, than they ſend in return to us? That a great part of their foreign balance is, and muſt be, remitted to London? I ſhall be ready to admit that the colonies ought to be taxed to the revenues of this country, when I know that they are out of debt to its commerce. This author will furniſh ſome ground to his theories, and communicate a diſcovery to the publick, if he can ſhew this, by any medium. But he tells us, ‘that their ſeas are covered Conſid. p. 79. with ſhips, and their rivers floating with commerce.’ This is ſtill true. But it is with our ſhips that they are covered; and they float with Britiſh commerce. The American merchants are our factors; all in reality, moſt even in name. They trade, they navigate, they cultivate with Engliſh capitals; to their own advantage, to be ſure; for without theſe capitals their ploughs would be ſtopped, and their ſhips wind⯑bound. But he who employs the capital muſt, on the whole, be the per⯑ſon principally benefited; the perſon who works upon it, profits on his part too; but he profits in a ſubordinate way, as our colonies do; that is, as the ſervant of a wiſe and indulgent maſter, and no otherwiſe. We have all, except the peculium, without which even ſlaves will not labour.

If the author's principles, which are the common notions, be right, that the price of our manufactures is ſo greatly enhanced by our taxes; then the Americans already pay in that way a ſhare of our impoſitions. He is not aſhamed to aſſert, ‘that France and China may be ſaid, on the Conſid. p. 74. ſame principle, to bear a part of our charges, for they conſume our com⯑modities.’ Was ever ſuch a method of reaſoning heard of? Do not the laws abſolutely confine the colonies to buy from us, whether foreign nations ſell cheaper or not? On what other idea are all our prohibitions, regulations, guards, penalties, and forfeitures, framed? To ſecure to us, not a commercial preference, which ſtands in need of no penalties to enforce it; it finds its own way; but to ſecure to us a trade, which is a creature of law and inſtitution. What has this to do with the principles of a foreign trade, which is under no monopoly, and in which we cannot raiſe the price of our goods, without hazarding the demand for them? None but the au⯑thors of ſuch meaſures could ever think of making uſe of ſuch arguments.

[76] Whoever goes about to reaſon on any part of the policy of this country with regard to America, upon the mere abſtract principles of government, or even upon thoſe of our own antient conſtitution, will be often miſled. Thoſe who reſort for arguments to the moſt reſpectable autho⯑rities, antient or modern, or reſt upon the cleareſt maxims, drawn from the experience of other ſtates and empires, will be liable to the greateſt errors imaginable. The object is wholly new in the world. It is ſingular: it is grown up to this magnitude and importance within the memory of man; nothing in hiſtory is parallel to it. All the reaſonings about it, that are likely to be at all ſolid, muſt be drawn from its actual circum⯑ſtances. In this new ſyſtem, a principle of commerce, of artificial com⯑merce, muſt predominate. This commerce muſt be ſecured by a multi⯑tude of reſtraints very alien from the ſpirit of liberty; and a powerful authority muſt reſide in the principal ſtate, in order to enforce them. But the people who are to be the objects of theſe reſtraints are deſcendants of Engliſhmen; and of an high and free ſpirit. To hold over them a government made up of nothing but reſtraints, and penalties, and taxes in the granting of which they can have no ſhare, will neither be wiſe, nor long practicable. People muſt be governed in a manner agreeable to their temper and diſpoſition; and men of free character and ſpirit muſt be ruled with, at leaſt, ſome condeſcenſion to this ſpirit and this character. The Britiſh coloniſt muſt ſee ſomething which will diſtinguiſh him from the co⯑loniſts of other nations. Thoſe reaſonings, which infer from the many reſtraints under which we have already laid America, to our right to lay it under ſtill more, and indeed under all manner of reſtraints, are con⯑cluſive; concluſive as to right; but the very reverſe as to policy and practice. We ought rather to infer from our having laid the colonies under many reſtraints, that it is reaſonable to compenſate them by every indulgence that can by any means be reconciled to our intereſt. We have a great empire to rule, compoſed of a vaſt maſs of heterogeneous governments, all more or leſs free and popular in their forms, all to be kept in peace, and kept out of conſpiracy, with one another, all to be held in ſubordination to this country; while the ſpirit of an extenſive and intricate trading intereſt pervades the whole, always qualifying, and often controlling, every general idea of conſtitution and government. It is a great and difficult object; and I wiſh we may poſſeſs wiſdom and temper enough to govern it as we ought. Its importance is infinite. I believe the reader will be ſtruck, as I have been, with one ſingular fact. In the year 1704, but ſixty-five years ago, the whole trade with our plantations was but a few thouſand pounds more in the export article, and a third leſs in the import, than that which we now carry on with the ſingle iſland of Jamaica:

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

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

If the then miniſtry reſolved firſt to declare the right, it was not from any opinion they entertained of its future uſe in regular taxation. Their opinions were full and declared againſt the ordinary uſe of ſuch a power. But it was plain, that the general reaſonings which were employed againſt that power, went directly to our whole legiſlative right; and one part of it could not be yielded to ſuch arguments, without a virtual ſurrender of all the reſt. Beſides, if that very ſpecific power of levying money in the colonies were not retained as a ſacred truſt in the hands of Great Britain (to be uſed, not in the firſt inſtance for ſupply, but in the laſt exigence for controul) it is obvious, that the preſiding authority of Great Britain, as the head, the arbiter and director of the whole empire, would vaniſh into an empty name, without operation or energy. With the habitual exerciſe of ſuch a power in the ordinary courſe of ſupply, no [78] trace of freedom could remain to America ^x. If Great Britain were ſtripped of this right, every principle of unity and ſubordination in the empire was gone for ever. Whether all this can be reconciled in legal ſpeculation, is a matter of no conſequence. It is reconciled in policy; and politics ought to be adjuſted, not to human reaſonings, but to human nature; of which the reaſon is but a part; and by no means the greateſt part.

Founding the repeal on this baſis, it was judged proper to lay before parliament the whole detail of the American affairs, as fully as it had been laid before the miniſtry themſelves. Ignorance of thoſe affairs had miſled parliament. Knowledge alone could bring it into the right road. Every paper of office was laid upon the table of the two houſes; every denomination of men, either of America, or connected with it by office, by reſidence, by commerce, by intereſt, even by injury; men of civil and military capacity, officers of the revenue, merchants, ma⯑nufacturers of every ſpecies, and from every town in England, attended at the bar. Such evidence never was laid before parliament. If an emulation aroſe among the miniſters, and members of parliament, as the author rightly obſerves, for the repeal of this act, as well as for the other regulations, it was not on the confident aſſertions, the airy ſpeculations, P. 21 or the vain promiſes of miniſters, that it aroſe. It was the ſenſe of parliament on the evidence before them. No one ſo much as ſuſpects, that miniſterial allurements or terrors had any ſhare in it.

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

[79] This teſtimony is treated with great contempt by our author. It muſt be, I ſuppoſe, becauſe it was contradicted by the plain nature of things. Suppoſe then, that the merchants had, to gratify this author, given a contrary evidence; and had depoſed, that while America remained in a ſtate of reſiſt⯑ance, whilſt four million of debt remained unpaid, whilſt the courſe of juſtice was ſuſpended for want of ſtamped paper, ſo that no debt could be recovered, whilſt there was a total ſtop to trade, becauſe every ſhip was ſub⯑ject to ſeizure for want of ſtamped clearances, and while the colonies were to be declared in rebellion, and ſubdued by armed force, that in theſe cir⯑cumſtances they would ſtill continue to trade chearfully and fearleſsly as before; would not ſuch witneſſes provoke univerſal indignation for their folly or their wickedneſs, and be deſervedly hooted from the bar ^y? would [80] any human faith have given credit to ſuch aſſertions? The teſtimony of the merchants was neceſſary for the detail, and to bring the matter home to the feeling of the houſe; as to the general reaſons, they ſpoke abun⯑dantly for themſelves.

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

Such an adminiſtration did not ſucceed. Inſtead of profiting of that ſeaſon of tranquillity, in the very next year they choſe to return to mea⯑ſures of the very ſame nature with thoſe which had been ſo ſolemnly con⯑demned; though upon a ſmaller ſcale. The effects have been cor⯑reſpondent. America is again in diſorder; not indeed in the ſame degree as formerly, nor any thing like it. Such good effects have attended the repeal of the ſtamp act, that the colonies have actually paid the taxes; and they have ſought their redreſs (upon however improper principles), not in their own violence, as formerly ^z; but in the experienced benignity of parliament. They are not eaſy indeed, nor ever will be ſo, under this author's ſchemes of taxation; but we ſee no longer the ſame general fury and confuſion, which attended their reſiſtance to the ſtamp act. The author may rail at the repeal, and thoſe who propoſed it, as he pleaſes. Thoſe honeſt men ſuffer all his obloquy with pleaſure, in the midſt of the quiet which they have been the means of giving to their country; and would think his praiſes for their perſeverance in a pernicious ſcheme, a very bad compen⯑ſation for the diſturbance of our peace, and the ruin of our commerce. Whether the return to the ſyſtem of 1764, for raiſing a revenue in America, the diſcontents which have enſued in conſequence of it, the general ſuſpenſion of the aſſemblies in conſequence of theſe diſcontents, [81] the uſe of the military power, and the new and dangerous commiſſions which now hang over them, will produce equally good effects, is greatly to be doubted. Never, I fear, will this nation and the colonies fall back upon their true centre of gravity, and natural point of repoſe, until the ideas of 1766 are reſumed, and ſteadily purſued.

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

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

The friends of the author have a method ſurely a little whimſi⯑cal in all this ſort of diſcuſſions. They have made an innumerable multitude of commercial regulations, at which the trade of England exclaimed with one voice, and many of which have been altered on the [82] unanimous opinion of that trade. Still they go on, juſt as before, in a ſort of droning panegyric on themſelves, talking of theſe regulations as prodigies of wiſdom; and, inſtead of appealing to thoſe who are moſt affected and the beſt judges, they turn round in a perpetual circle of their own reaſonings and pretences; they hand you over from one of their own pamphlets to another; "ſee," ſay they, ‘this demonſtrated in The Regulations of the Colonies.’ ‘See this ſatisfactorily proved in The Conſiderations.’ By and by we ſhall have another; ‘ſee for this The State of the Nation.’ I wiſh to take another method in vin⯑dicating the oppoſite ſyſtem. I refer to the petitions of merchants for theſe regulations; to their thanks when they were obtained; and to the ſtrong and grateful ſenſe they have ever ſince expreſſed of the benefits received under that adminiſtration.

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

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

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

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

It is not always very pleaſant to be obliged to produce the detail of this kind of tranſactions to the public view. I will content myſelf therefore with giving a ſhort ſtate of facts, which, when the author chooſes to contradict, he ſhall ſee proved, more, perhaps, to his conviction, than to his liking. The firſt fact then is, that the demand for the Manilla ranſom had been, in the author's favourite adminiſtration, ſo neglected, as to appear to have been little leſs than tacitly abandoned. At home, no countenance was given to the claimants; and when it was mentioned in parliament, the then leader did not ſeem, at leaſt, a very ſanguine advocate in favour of the claim. Theſe things made it a matter of no ſmall difficulty to reſume and preſs that negotiation with Spain. However, ſo clear was our right, that the then miniſters reſolved to revive it; and ſo little time was loſt, that, though that adminiſtra⯑tion was not compleated until the ninth of July, 1765; on the 20th of the following Auguſt, General Conway tranſmitted a ſtrong and full remonſtrance on that ſubject, to the Earl of Rochfort. The argument, on which the court of Madrid moſt relied, was the dereliction of that claim by the preceding miniſters. However, it was ſtill puſhed with ſo much vi⯑gour, that the Spaniards, from a poſitive denial to pay, offered to refer the demand to arbitration. That propoſition was rejected; and the demand being ſtill preſſed, there was all the reaſon in the world to expect its being brought to a favourable iſſue; when it was thought proper to change the adminiſtration. Whether, under their circumſtances, and in the time they continued in power, more could be done, the reader will judge; who will hear with aſtoniſhment a charge of remiſſneſs from thoſe very men, [84] whoſe inactivity, to call it by no worſe a name, laid the chief difficulties in the way of the revived negotiation.

As to the Canada bills, this author thinks proper to aſſert, ‘that the P. 24 proprietors found themſelves under a neceſſity of compounding their demands upon the French court, and accepting terms which they had often rejected; and which the Earl of Halifax had declared he would ſooner forfeit his hand than ſign.’ When I know that the Earl of Halifax ſays this, the Earl of Halifax ſhall have an anſwer; but I perſuade myſelf that his Lordſhip has given no authority for this ridiculous rant. In the mean time, I ſhall only ſpeak of it as a common concern of that miniſtry.

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

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

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

[85] 4. The Earl of Halifax never did, nor could, refuſe to ſign this conven⯑tion; becauſe this convention, as it ſtands, never was before him ^b.

The author's laſt charge on that miniſtry, with regard to foreign affairs, is the Ruſſian treaty of commerce, which the author thinks fit to aſſert, was concluded ‘on terms the Earl of Buckinghamſhire had refuſed to P. 23 accept of, and which had been deemed by former miniſters diſadvanta⯑geous to the nation, and by the merchants unſafe and unprofitable.’

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

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

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

One of the firſt and juſteſt complaints againſt the adminiſtration of the author's friends, was the want of vigour in their foreign negotiations. Their immediate ſucceſſors endeavoured to correct that error, along [86] with others; and there was ſcarcely a foreign court, in which the new ſpirit that had ariſen was not ſenſibly felt, acknowledged, and ſome⯑times complained of. On their coming into adminiſtration, they found the demolition of Dunkirk entirely at a ſtand: inſtead of demolition, they found conſtruction; for the French were then at work on the repair of the jettees. On the remonſtrances of General Conway, ſome parts of theſe jettees were immediately deſtroyed. The Duke of Richmond perſonally ſurveyed the place, and obtained a fuller knowledge of its true ſtate and con⯑dition than any of our miniſters had done; and, in conſequence, had larger offers from the Duke of Choiſeul, than had ever been received. But, know⯑ing theſe to be ſhort of our juſt expectations under the treaty, he rejected them. Our then miniſters, knowing that, in their adminiſtration, the peoples minds were ſet at eaſe upon all the eſſential points of public and private liberty, and that no projects of theirs could endanger the concord of the empire, were under no reſtraint from purſuing every juſt demand upon foreign nations.

The author, towards the end of this work, falls into reflections upon the ſtate of public morals in this country: He draws uſe from his doctrine, by recommending his friend to the King and the publick, as another Duke of Sully; and he concludes the whole performance with a very devout prayer. The prayers of politicians may ſometimes be ſincere; and as this prayer is in ſubſtance, that the author, or his friends, may be ſoon brought into power, I have great reaſon to believe it is very much from the heart. However, after he has drawn ſuch a picture, ſuch a ſhocking picture, of the ſtate of this country, he has great faith in thinking the means he prays for, ſufficient to relieve us: after the character he has given of its inhabitants of all ranks and claſſes, he has great charity in caring much about them; and indeed, no leſs hope, in being of opinion, that ſuch a deteſtable nation can ever become the care of Providence. He has not even found five good men in our devoted city.

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

He obſerves, that the virtue of the moſt exemplary prince that ever ſwayed a ſcepter ‘can never warm, or illuminate the body of his people, P. 46 [87] if foul mirrours are placed ſo near him as to refract and diſſipate the rays at their firſt emanation.’ Without obſerving upon the propriety of this alluſion, or aſking how mirrours come to have loſt their old quality of reflecting, and to have acquired that of refracting and diſſipating rays, and how far their foulneſs will account for this change; the remark itſelf is common and true: no leſs true, and equally ſurprizing from him, is that which immediately precedes it; ‘it is in vain to endeavour to check the P. 46 progreſs of irreligion and licentiouſneſs, by puniſhing ſuch crimes in one individual, if others equally culpable are rewarded with the honours and emoluments of the ſtate.’ I am not in the ſecret of the author's manner of writing; but it appears to me, that he muſt intend theſe reflections, as a ſatire upon the adminiſtration of his happy years. Were ever the favours and emoluments of the ſtate more laviſhly ſquan⯑dered upon perſons ſcandalous in their lives, than during that period? In theſe ſcandalous lives, was there any thing more ſcandalous than the mode of puniſhing one culpable individual? In that individual, is any thing more culpable, than his having been ſeduced by the example of ſome of thoſe very perſons by whom he was thus perſecuted?

The author is ſo eager to attack others, that he provides but indif⯑ferently for his own defence. I believe, without going beyond the page I have now before me, he is very ſenſible, that I have ſufficient matter of further, and, if poſſible, of heavier charge, againſt his friends, upon his own principles. But it is becauſe the advantage is too great, that I decline making uſe of it. I wiſh the author had not thought, that all methods are lawful in party. Above all, he ought to have taken care not to wound his enemies through the ſides of his country. This he has done, by making that monſtrous and overcharged picture of the diſtreſſes of our ſituation. No wonder, that he, who finds this country in the ſame condition with that of France at the time of Henry the Fourth, could alſo find a reſemblance between his political friend and the Duke of Sully. As to thoſe perſonal reſemblances, people will often judge of them from their affections: they may image in theſe clouds whatſoever figures they pleaſe; but what is the conformation of that eye which can diſcover a reſemblance of this country and theſe times, to thoſe with which the author compares them. France, a country juſt recovered out of twenty⯑five years of the moſt cruel and deſolating civil war that perhaps was ever known. The kingdom, under a veil of momentary quiet, full of the moſt atrocious political, operating upon the moſt furious fanatical factions. Some pretenders even to the crown; and thoſe who did not pretend to the whole, aimed at the partition of the monarchy. There were almoſt as many competitors as provinces; and all abetted by the greateſt, the moſt ambitious, and moſt enterprizing power in Europe. [88] No place ſafe from treaſon; no, not the boſoms on which the moſt ami⯑able prince that ever lived, repoſed his head; not his miſtreſſes; not even his queen. As to the finances, they had ſcarce an exiſtence, but as a matter of plunder to the managers, and of grants to inſatiable, and un⯑grateful courtiers.

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

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

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

This is nothing elſe than a ſpirit of diſconnection, of diſtruſt, and of trea⯑chery, amongſt public men. It is no accidental evil; nor has its effect been truſted to the uſual frailty of nature: the diſtemper has been inocu⯑lated. The author is ſenſible of it, and we lament it together. This diſtemper is alone ſufficient to take away conſiderably from the benefits of our conſtitution and ſituation, and perhaps to render their continuance precarious. If theſe evil diſpoſitions ſhould ſpread much farther, they muſt end in our deſtruction; for nothing can ſave a people deſtitute of public and private faith. However, the author, for the preſent ſtate of things, has extended the charge by much too widely; as men are but too apt to [89] take the meaſure of all mankind from their own particular acquaintance. Barren as this age may be in the growth of honour and virtue, the coun⯑try does not want, at this moment, as ſtrong, and thoſe not a few exam⯑ples, as were ever known, of an unſhaken adherence to principle, and at⯑tachment to connexion, againſt every allurement of intereſt. Thoſe examples are not furniſhed by the great alone; nor by thoſe whoſe activity in public affairs may render it ſuſpected that they make ſuch a character one of the rounds in their ladder of ambition; but by men more quiet, and more in the ſhade, on whom an unmixed ſenſe of honour alone could operate. Such examples indeed are not furniſhed in great abundance amongſt thoſe who are the ſubjects of the author's panegyrick. He muſt look for them in another camp. He who complains of the ill effects of a divided and heterogeneous adminiſtration is not juſtifiable in labouring to render odious in the eyes of the publick thoſe men, whoſe principles, whoſe maxims of policy, and whoſe perſonal character, can alone ad⯑miniſter a remedy to this capital evil of the age; neither is he conſiſtent with himſelf, in conſtantly extolling thoſe whom he knows to be the au⯑thors of the very miſchief of which he complains, and which the whole nation feels ſo deeply.

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

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

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

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

As to the unfortunate gentlemen who may at any time compoſe that ſyſtem, which, under the plauſible title of an adminiſtration, ſubſiſts but [91] for the eſtabliſhment of weakneſs and confuſion; they fall into different claſſes, with different merits. I think the ſituation of ſome people in that ſtate, may deſerve a certain degree of compaſſion; at the ſame time that they furniſh an example, which, it is to be hoped, by being a ſevere one, will have its effect, at leaſt, on the growing generation; if an original ſeduction, on plauſible but hollow pretences, into loſs of honour, friendſhip, conſiſtency, ſecurity, and repoſe, can furniſh it. It is poſſible to draw, even from the very proſperity of ambition, examples of terror, and motives to compaſſion.

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

People not very well grounded in the principles of public morality, find a ſet of maxims in office ready made for them, which they aſſume as naturally and inevitably, as any of the inſignia or inſtruments of the ſitu⯑ation. A certain tone of the ſolid and practical is immediately acquired. Every former profeſſion of public ſpirit is to be conſidered as a debauch of youth, or, at beſt, as a viſionary ſcheme of unattainable perfection. The very idea of conſiſtency is exploded. The convenience of the buſineſs of the day is to furniſh the principle for doing it. Then the whole miniſterial cant is quickly got by heart. The prevalence of faction is to be lamented. All oppoſition is to be regarded as the effect of diſcontent. All adminiſtrations are declared to be alike. The ſame neceſſity juſtifies all their meaſures. It is no longer a matter of diſcuſſion, who or what [92] adminiſtration is; but adminiſtration is to be ſupported as a general maxim. Flattering themſelves, that their power is become neceſſary to the ſupport of all order and government; every thing which tends to the ſupport of that power is ſanctified, and becomes a part of the public intereſt.

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

In the mean time, that power which all theſe changes aimed at ſecuring, remains ſtill as tottering and as uncertain as ever. They are delivered up into the hands of thoſe who feel neither reſpect for their perſons, nor gratitude for their favours; who are put about them in appearance to ſerve, in reali⯑ty to govern them; and, when the ſignal is given, to abandon and deſtroy them; in order to ſet up ſome newer dupe of ambition, who, in his turn, is to be abandoned and deſtroyed. Thus living in a ſtate of con⯑tinual uneaſineſs and ferment, ſoftened only by the miſerable conſolation of giving now and then preferments to thoſe for whom they have no value; they are unhappy in their ſituation, and find it impoſſible to reſign it. Until, at length, ſoured in temper, and diſappointed by the very attain⯑ment of their ends, in ſome angry, in ſome haughty, or ſome negligent moment, they incur the diſpleaſure of thoſe upon whom they have ren⯑dered their very being dependent. Then perierunt tempora longi ſervitii; they are caſt off with ſcorn; they are turned out, emptied of all natural character, of all intrinſic worth, of all eſſential dignity, and deprived of every conſo⯑lation of friendſhip. Having rendered all retreat to old principles ridicu⯑lous, and to old regards impracticable, not being able to counterfeit plea⯑ſure, or to diſcharge diſcontent, nothing being ſincere, or right, or balan⯑ced in their minds, it is more than a chance, that, in the delirium of the laſt ſtage of their diſtempered power, they make an inſane political teſta⯑ment, by which they throw all their remaining weight and conſequence into the ſcale of their declared enemies, and the avowed authors of their deſtruction. Thus they finiſh their courſe. Had it been poſſible that the whole, or even a great part of theſe effects on their minds, I ſay no⯑thing of the effect upon their fortunes, could have appeared to them in their firſt departure from the right line, it is certain they would have re⯑jected every temptation with horror. The principle of theſe remarks, [93] like every good principle in morality, is trite; but its frequent application is not the leſs neceſſary.

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

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

It is a ſerious affair, this ſtudied diſunion in government. In caſes where union is moſt conſulted in the conſtitution of a miniſtry, and where perſons are beſt diſpoſed to promote it, differences, from the various ideas of men, will ariſe; and, from their paſſions, will often ferment into violent heats, ſo as greatly to diſorder all public buſineſs. What muſt be [94] the conſequence, when the very diſtemper is made the baſis of the conſtitution; and the original weakneſs of human nature is ſtill further enfeebled by art and contrivance? It muſt ſubvert government from the very foundation. It turns our public councils into the moſt miſ⯑chievous cabals; where the conſideration is not how the nation's buſineſs ſhall be carried on, but how thoſe who ought to carry it on ſhall cir⯑cumvent each other. In ſuch a ſtate of things, no order, uniformity, dignity, or effect, can appear in our proceedings either at home or abroad. Nor will it make much difference, whether ſome of the conſtituent parts of ſuch an adminiſtration are men of virtue or ability, or not; ſuppoſing it poſſible that ſuch men, with their eyes open, ſhould chooſe to make a part in ſuch a body.

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

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