SUBSTANCE OF THE SPEECH OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDMUND BURKE.

MR. Burke's ſpeech on the Report of the army has not been correctly ſtated in ſome of the public papers, It is of con⯑ſequence to him not to be miſunderſtood. The matter which incidentally came into diſcuſſion is of the moſt ſerious import⯑ance. It is thought that the heads and [2] ſubſtance of the ſpeech will anſwer the purpoſe ſufficiently. If in making the abſtract, through defect of memory, in the perſon who now gives it, any dif⯑ference at all ſhould be perceived from the ſpeech as it was ſpoken, it will not, the editor imagines, be found in any thing which may amount to a retraction of the opinions he then maintained, or to any ſoftening in the expreſſions in which they were conveyed.

Mr. Burke ſpoke a conſiderable time in anſwer to various arguments which had been inſiſted upon by Mr. Grenville and Mr. Pitt, for keeping an increaſed peace eſtabliſhment, and againſt an improper jealouſy of the Miniſters, in whom a full confidence, ſubject to reſponſibility, ought to be placed, on account of their knowledge of the real ſituation of af⯑fairs; the exact ſtate of which it fre⯑quently [3] happened, that they could not diſcloſe, without violating the conſtitu⯑tional and political ſecrecy, neceſſary to the well being of their country.

Mr. Burke ſaid in ſubſtance, "that confidence might become a vice, and jea⯑louſy a virtue, according to circum⯑ſtances. That confidence, of all public virtues, was the moſt dangerous, and jea⯑louſy in an Houſe of Commons, of all public vices, the moſt tolerable; eſpecially where the number and the charge of ſtanding armies, in time of peace, was the queſtion.

That in the annual mutiny bill, the annual army was declaredly to be for the purpoſe of preſerving the balance of power in Europe. The propriety of its being larger or ſmaller depended, therefore, upon the true ſtate of that balance. If the in⯑creaſe [4] of peace eſtabliſhments demanded of Parliament agreed with the manifeſt appearance of the balance, confidence in Miniſters, as to the particulars, would be very proper. If the increaſe was not at all ſupported by any ſuch appear⯑ance, he thought great jealouſy might, and ought to be, entertained on that ſubject.

That he did not find, on a review of all Europe, that, politically, we ſtood, in the ſmalleſt degree, of danger from any one ſtate or kingdom it contained; nor that any other foreign powers than our own allies were likely to obtain a conſiderable preponderance in the ſcale.

That France had hitherto been our firſt object, in all conſiderations, con⯑cerning the balance of power. The pre⯑ſence or abſence of France totally varied [5] every ſort of ſpeculation relative to that balance.

That France was, at this time, in a po⯑litical light, to be conſidered, as expunged out of the ſyſtem of Europe. Whether ſhe ever could appear in it again, as a lead⯑ing power, was not eaſy to determine: but at preſent he conſidered France as not politically exiſting; and moſt aſſuredly it would take up much time to reſtore her to her former active exiſtence — Gallos quoque in bellis floruiſſe audivimus, might poſſibly be the language of the riſing generation. He did not mean to deny that it was our duty to keep our eye on that nation, and to regulate our preparation by the ſymp⯑toms of her recovery.

That it was to her ſtrength, not to her form of government which we were to attend; becauſe Republics, as well as [6] monarchies, were ſuſceptible of ambition, jealouſy, and anger, the uſual cauſes of war.

But if, while France continued in this ſwoon, we ſhould go on increaſing our expences, we ſhould certainly make our⯑ſelves leſs a match for her, when it be⯑came our concern to arm.

It was ſaid, that as ſhe had ſpeedily fallen, ſhe might ſpeedily riſe again. He doubted this. That the fall from an height was with an accelerated velo⯑city; but to lift a weight up to that height again was difficult, and oppoſed by the laws of phyſical and political gravita⯑tion.

In a political view, France was low in⯑deed. She had loſt every thing, even to her name

He was aſtoniſhed at it—he was alarmed at it—he trembled at the uncertainty of all human greatneſs.

Since the Houſe had been prorogued in the ſummer much work was done in France. The French had ſhewn them⯑ſelves the ableſt architects of ruin that had hitherto exiſted in the world. In that very [8] ſhort ſpace of time they had completely pulled down to the ground, their mo⯑narchy; their church; their nobility; their law; their revenue; their army; their navy; their commerce; their arts; and their manufactures. They had done their buſineſs for us as rivals, in a way in which twenty Ramilies or Blenheims could never have done it. Were we abſolute conquerors, and France to lye proſtrate at our feet, we ſhould be aſhamed to ſend a commiſſion to ſettle their affairs, which could impoſe ſo hard a law upon the French, and ſo deſtructive of all their conſequence as a nation, as that they had impoſed upon themſelves.

France, by the mere circumſtance of its vicinity, had been, and in a degree always muſt be, an object of our vigilance, either with regard to her actual power, or to her [9] influence and example. As to the former, he had ſpoken; as to the latter, (her example) he ſhould ſay a few words: for by this ex⯑ample our friendſhip and our intercourſe with that nation had once been, and might again, become more dangerous to us than their worſt hoſtility.

In the laſt century, Louis the Fourteenth had eſtabliſhed a greater and better diſci⯑plined military force than ever had been before ſeen in Europe, and with it a perfect deſpotiſm. Though that deſpotiſm was proudly arrayed in manners, gallantry, ſplendor, magnificence, and even covered over with the impoſing robes of ſcience, literature, and arts, it was, in government, nothing better than a painted and gilded tyranny; in religion, an hard ſtern intole⯑rance, the ſit companion and auxiliary to the deſpotic tyranny which prevailed in its [10] government. The ſame character of deſpo⯑tiſm inſinuated itſelf into every court of Europe—the ſame ſpirit of diſproportioned magnificence—the ſame love of ſtanding armies, above the ability of the people. In particular, our then Sovereigns, King Charles and King James, fell in love with the government of their neighbour, ſo flat⯑tering to the pride of Kings. A ſimilarity of ſentiments brought on connections equally dangerous to the intereſts and li⯑berties of their country. It were well that the infection had gone no farther than the Throne. The admiration of a govern⯑ment flouriſhing and ſucceſsful, unchecked in its operations, and ſeeming therefore to compaſs its objects more ſpeedily and effectually, gained ſomething upon all ranks of people. The good patriots of that day, however, ſtruggled againſt it. They ſought nothing more anxiouſly than to break off all communication with France, and [11] to beget a total alienation from its councils and its example; which, by the animoſity prevalent between the abettors of their religious ſyſtem and the aſſertors of ours, was, in ſome degree, effected.

This day the evil is totally changed in France: but there is an evil. The diſeaſe is altered; but the vicinity of the two countries remains, and muſt remain; and the natural mental habits of mankind are ſuch, that the preſent diſtemper of France it is far more likely to be contagious than the old one; for it is not quite eaſy to ſpread a paſſion for ſervitude among the people: but in all evils of the oppoſite kind our natural inclinations are flattered. In the caſe of deſpotiſm there is the foedum crimen ſervitutis; in the laſt the falſa ſpe⯑cies libertatis; and accordingly, as the hiſ⯑torian ſays, pronis auribus accipitur.

[12]In the laſt age we were in danger of be⯑ing entangled by the example of France in the net of a relentleſs deſpotiſm. It is not neceſſary to ſay any thing upon that example. It exiſts no longer. Our pre⯑ſent danger from the example of a peo⯑ple, whoſe character knows no medium, is, with regard to government, a danger from anarchy; a danger of being led through an admiration of ſucceſsful fraud and violence, to an imitation of the exceſſes of an irrational, unprincipled, proſcribing, confiſcating, plundering, ferocious, bloody, and tyrannical democracy. On the ſide of religion, the danger of their example is no longer from intolerance, but from Atheiſm; a foul, unnatural vice, foe to all the dig⯑nity and conſolation of mankind; which ſeems in France, for a long time, to have been embodie into a faction, accredited, and almoſt avowed.

[13]Theſe are our preſent dangers from France: but, in his opinion, the very worſt part of the example ſet is, in the late aſſumption of citizenſhip by the army, and the whole of the arrangement, or rather diſarrangement of their military.

He was ſorry that his right honourable friend (Mr. Fox) had dropped even a word expreſſive of exultation on that circum⯑ſtance; or that he ſeemed of opinion that the objection from ſtanding armies was at all leſſened by it. He attributed this opi⯑nion of Mr. Fox entirely to his known zeal for the beſt of all cauſes, Liberty. That it was with a pain inexpreſſible he was obliged to have even the ſhadow of a difference with his friend, whoſe authority would be always great with him, and with all thinking people — Quae maxima ſemper cenſetur nobis, et erit quae maxima ſemper.— [14] His confidence in Mr. Fox was ſuch, and ſo ample, as to be almoſt implicit. That he was not aſhamed to avow that de⯑gree of docility. That when the choice is well made, it ſtrengthens inſtead of oppreſs⯑ing our intellect. That he who calls in the aid of an equal underſtanding, doubles his own. He who profits of a ſuperior under⯑ſtanding, raiſes his powers to a level with the height of the ſuperior underſtanding he unites with. He had found the benefit of ſuch a junction, and would not lightly depart from it. He wiſhed almoſt, on all occaſions, that his ſentiments were under⯑ſtood to be conveyed in Mr. Fox's words; and that he wiſhed, as amongſt the greateſt benefits he could wiſh the country, an emi⯑nent ſhare of power to that right honou⯑rable gentleman; becauſe he knew that, to his great and maſterly underſtanding, he had joined the greateſt poſſible degree of that natural moderation, which is the beſt [15] corrective of power; that he was of the moſt artleſs, candid, open, and benevolent diſpoſition; diſintereſted in the extreme; of a temper mild and placable, even to a fault; without one drop of gall in his whole conſtitution.

That the Houſe muſt perceive, from his coming forward to mark an expreſſion or two of his beſt friend, how anxious he was to keep the diſtemper of France from the leaſt countenance in England, where he was ſure ſome wicked perſons had ſhewn a ſtrong diſpoſition to recommend an imitation of the French ſpirit of Re⯑form. He was ſo ſtrongly oppoſed to any the leaſt tendency towards the means of in⯑troducing a democracy like theirs, as well as to the end itſelf, that much as it would afflict him, if ſuch a thing could be at⯑tempted, and that any friend of his could concur in ſuch meaſures, (he was far, [16] very far, from believing they could); he would abandon his beſt friends, and join with his worſt enemies to oppoſe either the means or the end; and to reſiſt all vio⯑lent exertions of the ſpirit of innovation, ſo diſtant from all principles of true and ſafe reformation; a ſpirit well calculated to overturn ſtates, but perfectly unfit to amend them.

That he was no enemy to reformation. Almoſt every buſineſs in which he was much concerned, from the firſt day he ſat in that Houſe to that hour, was a buſineſs of reformation; and when he had not been employed in correcting, he had been em⯑ployed in reſiſting abuſes. Some traces of this ſpirit in him now ſtand on their ſta⯑tute book. In his opinion, any thing which unneceſſarily tore to pieces the con⯑texture of the ſtate, not only prevented all real reformation, but introduced evils [17] which would call, but, perhaps, call in vain, for new reformation.

That he thought the French nation very unwiſe. What they valued themſelves on, was a diſgrace to them. They had gloried (and ſome people in England had thought fit to take ſhare in that glory) in making a revolution; as if revolutions were good things in themſelves. All the horrors, and all the crimes of the anarchy which led to their revolution, which attend its progreſs, and which may virtually attend it in its eſtabliſhment, paſs for nothing with the lovers of revolutions. The French have made their way through the deſtruction of their country, to a bad conſtitution, when they were abſolutely in poſſeſſion of a good one. They were in poſſeſſion of it the day the States met in ſeparate orders. Their buſineſs, had they been either virtuous, or wiſe, or had been left to their own judge⯑ment, [18] was to ſecure the ſtability and inde⯑pendence of the States, according to thoſe orders, under the Monarch on the Throne. It was then their duty to redreſs griev⯑ances.

Inſtead of redreſſing grievances, and im⯑proving the fabric of their State, to which they were called by their Monarch, and ſent by their Country, they were made to take a very different courſe. They firſt deſtroyed all the balances and counterpoiſes which ſerve to fix the ſtate; and to give it a ſteady direction; and which furniſh ſure correctives to any violent ſpirit which may prevail in any of the orders. Theſe ba⯑lances exiſted in their oldeſt conſtitution; and in the conſtitution of this country; and in the conſtitution of all the countries in Europe. Theſe they raſhly deſtroyed, and then they melted down the whole into one incongruous, ill-connected maſs.

[19]When they had done this, they inſtantly, with the moſt atrocious perfidy and breach of all faith among men, laid the axe to the root of all property, and conſequently of all national proſperity, by confiſcating all the poſſeſſions of the church. They made and recorded a ſort of inſtitute and digeſt of anarchy, called the rights of man in ſuch a pedantic abuſe of elementary principles as would have diſgraced boys at ſchool; but this declaration of rights was worſe than trifling and pedantic in them; as by their name and authority they ſyſte⯑matically deſtroyed every hold of authority by opinion, religious or civil, on the minds of the people. By this mad declaration they ſubverted the ſtate; and brought on ſuch calamities as no country, without a long war, has ever been known to ſuffer, and which may in the end produce ſuch a war, and, perhaps, many ſuch.

[20]With them the queſtion was not be⯑tween deſpotiſm and liberty. The ſacrifice they made of the peace and power of their country was not made on the altar of Free⯑dom. They brought themſelves into all the calamities they ſuffer, not that through them they might obtain the Britiſh conſti⯑tution; they plunged themſelves head⯑long into thoſe calamities, to prevent them⯑ſelves from ſettling into that conſtitution, or into any thing reſembling it.

That if they ſhould perfectly ſucceed in what they propoſe, as they are likely enough to do, and eſtabliſh a democracy, or a mob of democracies, in a country circumſtanced like France, they will eſta⯑bliſh a very bad government — a very bad ſpecies of tyranny.

That, the worſt effect of all their pro⯑ceeding was on their military, which was [21] rendered an army for every purpoſe but that of defence. That, if the queſtion was, whether ſoldiers were to forget they were citizens, as an abſtract propoſition, he could have no difference about it; though, as it is uſual, when abſtract principles are to be applied, much was to be thought on the manner of uniting the character of citizen and ſoldier. But as applied to the events which had happened in France, where the abſtract principle was cloathed with its cir⯑cumſtances, he thought that his friend would agree with him, that what was done there furniſhed no matter of exulta⯑tion, either in the act or the example. Theſe ſoldiers were not citizens; but baſe hireling mutineers, and mercenary ſordid deſerters, wholly deſtitute of any honou⯑rable principle. Their conduct was one of the fruits of that anarchic ſpirit, from the evils of which a democracy itſelf was to be received by thoſe who were the [22] leaſt diſpoſed to that form as a cure. It was not an army in corps and with diſ⯑cipline, and embodied under the reſpecta⯑ble patriot citizens of the ſtate in reſiſting tyranny. Nothing like it. It was the caſe of common ſoldiers deſerting from their officers, to join a furious, licentious popu⯑lace. It was a deſertion to a cauſe, the real object of which was to level all thoſe inſtitutions, and to break all thoſe connec⯑tions, natural and civil, that regulate and hold together the community by a chain of ſubordination; to raiſe ſoldiers againſt their officers; ſervants againſt their maſters; tradeſmen againſt their cuſtomers; arti⯑ficers againſt their employers; tenants againſt their landlords; curates againſt their biſhops; and children againſt their parents. That this cauſe of theirs was not an enemy to ſervitude, but to ſociety.

He wiſhed the Houſe to conſider, how [23] the members would like to have their manſions pulled down and pillaged, their perſons abuſed, inſulted, and deſtroyed; their title deeds brought out and burned before their faces, and themſelves and their families driven to ſeek refuge in every nation throughout Europe, for no other reaſon than this, that without any fault of theirs, they were born gentlemen, and men of property, and were ſuſpected of a deſire to preſerve their conſideration and their eſtates. The deſertion in France was to aid an abominable ſedition, the very profeſſed principle of which was an impla⯑cable hoſtility to nobility and gentry, and whoſe ſavage war-whoop was "a l' Ariſ⯑tocrate," by which ſenſeleſs, bloody cry, they animated one another to rapine and murder; whilſt abetted by ambitious men of another claſs, they were cruſhing every thing reſpectable and virtuous in their na⯑tion, and to their power diſgracing almoſt [24] every name, by which we formerly knew there was ſuch a country in the world as France.

He knew too well, and he felt as much as any man, how difficult it was to accommodate a ſtanding army to a free conſtitution, or to any conſtitu⯑tion. An armed, diſciplined body is, in its eſſence, dangerous to liberty; undiſci⯑plined, it is ruinous to ſociety. Its com⯑ponent parts are, in the latter caſe, neither good citizens, nor good ſoldiers. What have they thought of in France, under ſuch a difficulty as almoſt puts the human faculties to a ſtand? They have put their army under ſuch a variety of principles of duty, that it is more likely to breed liti⯑gants, pettyfoggers, and mutineers, than ſoldiers. They have to balance their Crown army, another army, deriving under ano⯑ther authority, called a municipal army— [25] a balance of armies, not of orders. Theſe latter they have deſtroyed with every mark of inſult and oppreſſion. States may, and they will beſt, exiſt with a partition of power. Armies cannot exiſt under a di⯑vided command. This ſtate of things he thought, in effect, a ſtate of war, or, at beſt, but a truce inſtead of peace, in the country.

What a dreadful thing is a ſtanding army, for the conduct of the whole, or any part of which, no man is reſponſible! In the preſent ſtate of the French crown army, is there any General who can be reſponſible for the obedience of a Brigade? Any Colonel for that of a Regiment? Any Captain for that of a Company? And as to the municipal army, reinforced as it is by the new citizen-deſerters, under whoſe command are they? Have we not ſeen them, not led by, but dragging their [26] nominal Commander with a rope about his neck, when they, or thoſe whom they accompanied, proceeded to the moſt attro⯑cious acts of treaſon and murder? Are any of theſe armies? Are any of theſe citi⯑zens!

We have in ſuch a difficulty as that of fitting a ſtanding army to the ſtate, as he conceived, done much better. We have not diſtracted our army by divided princi⯑ples of obedience. We have put them un⯑der a ſingle authority, with a ſimple (our common) oath of fidelity; and we keep the whole under our annual inſpection. This was doing all that could be ſafely done.

He felt ſome concern that this ſtrange thing, called a Revolution in France, ſhould be compared with the glorious event, commonly called the Revolution in [27] England; and the conduct of the ſoldiery, on that occaſion, compared with the beha⯑viour of ſome of the troops of France in the preſent inſtance. At that period the Prince of Orange, a prince of the blood royal in England, was called in by the flower of the Engliſh ariſtocracy to defend its ancient conſtitution, and not to level all diſtinctions. To this Prince, ſo invited, the ariſtocratic leaders who commanded the troops went over with their ſeveral corps, in bodies, to the deliverer of their country. Ariſtocratic leaders brought up the corps of citizens who newly enliſted in this cauſe. Military obedience changed its ob⯑ject; but military diſcipline was not for a moment interrupted in its principle. The troops were ready for war, but indiſpoſed to mutiny.

But as the conduct of theſe armies was different, ſo was that of the whole Engliſh [28] nation at that time. In truth, the circum⯑ſtances of our revolution (as it is called) and that of France are juſt the reverſe of each other in almoſt every particular, and in the whole ſpirit of the tranſaction. With us it was the caſe of a legal Monarch at⯑tempting arbitrary power—in France it is the caſe of an arbitrary Monarch, begin⯑ning, from whatever cauſe, to legaliſe his authority. The one was to be reſiſted, the other was to be managed and directed; but in neither caſe was the order of the ſtate to be changed, leſt government might be ruined, which ought only to be corrected and legaliſed. With us we got rid of the man, and preſerved the con⯑ſtituent parts of the ſtate. There they get rid of the conſtituent parts of the ſtate, and keep the man. What we did was in truth and ſubſtance, and in a conſtitutional light, a revolution, not made, but pre⯑vented. We took ſolid ſecurities; we ſet⯑led [29] doubtful queſtions; we corrected ano⯑malies in our law. In the ſtable funda⯑mental parts of our conſtitution we made no revolution; no, nor any alteration at all. We did not impair the monarchy. Per⯑haps it might be ſhewn that we ſtrength⯑ened it very conſiderably. The nation kept the ſame ranks, the ſame orders, the ſame privileges, the ſame franchiſes, the ſame rules for property, the ſame ſubordi⯑nations, the ſame order in the law, in the revenue, and in the magiſtracy; the ſame lords, the ſame commons, the ſame corpo⯑rations, the ſame electors.

The church was not impaired. Her eſtates, her majeſty, her ſplendor, her orders and gradations continued the ſame; ſhe was preſerved in her full efficiency, and cleared only of a certain intolerance, which was her weakneſs and diſgrace. The church and the ſtate were the ſame after the revo⯑lution [30] that they were before, but better ſe⯑cured in every part.

Was little done becauſe a revolution was not made in the conſtitution? No! Every thing was done; becauſe we com⯑menced with reparation not with ruin. Accordingly the ſtate flouriſhed. Inſtead of lying as dead, in a ſort of trance, or expoſed as ſome others, in an epi⯑leptic fit, to the pity or deriſion of the world, for her wild, ridiculous, convul⯑ſive movements, impotent to every pur⯑poſe but that of daſhing out our brains againſt the pavement, Great Britain roſe above the ſtandard, even of her former ſelf. An aera of a more improved do⯑meſtic proſperity then commenced, and ſtill continues, not only unimpaired, but growing, under the waſting hand of time. All the energies of the country were awakened. England never preſented a [31] firmer countenance, or a more vigorous arm, to all her enemies, and to all her rivals. Europe under her reſpired and revived. Every where ſhe appeared as the protector, aſſertor, or avenger, of liberty. A war was made and ſupported againſt for⯑tune itſelf. The treaty of Ryſwick, which firſt limited the power of France, was ſoon after made: the grand alliance very ſhortly followed, which ſhook to the foundations the dreadful power which menaced the independence of mankind. The ſtates of Europe lay happy under the ſhade of a great and free monarchy, which knew how to be great without endangering its own peace at home, or the internal or external peace of any of its neighbours.

Mr. Burke ſaid he ſhould have felt very unpleaſantly if he had not delivered theſe ſentiments. He was near the end of his natural, probably ſtill nearer to the end of [32] his political career; that he was weak and weary; and wiſhed for reſt. That he was little diſpoſed to controverſies, or what is called a detailed oppoſition. That at his time of life, if he could not do ſomething by ſome ſort of weight of opinion, natu⯑ral or acquired, it was uſeleſs and indeco⯑rous to attempt any thing by mere ſtruggle. Turpe ſenex Miles. That he had for that reaſon little attended the army buſineſs, or that of the revenue, or almoſt any other matter of detail for ſome years paſt. That he had, however, his taſk. He was far from condemning ſuch oppoſition; on the contrary, he moſt highly applauded it, where a juſt occaſion exiſted for it, and gentlemen had vigour and capacity to pur⯑ſue it. Where a great occaſion occurred, he was, and while he continued in Parlia⯑ment, would be amongſt the moſt active and the moſt earneſt, as he hoped he had ſhewn on a late event. With reſpect to [33] the conſtitution itſelf, he wiſhed few al⯑terations in it. Happy if he left it not the worſe for any ſhare he had taken in its ſervice.

Mr. Fox then roſe, and declared, in ſub⯑ſtance, that ſo far as regarded the French army, he went no farther than the general principle, by which that army ſhewed itſelf indiſpoſed to be an inſtrument in the ſervi⯑tude of their fellow citizens, but did not enter into the particulars of their conduct. He declared, that he did not affect a demo⯑cracy. That he always thought any of the ſimple, unbalanced governments bad; ſimple monarchy, ſimple ariſtocracy, ſimple democracy; he held them all imperfect or vicious: all were bad by themſelves: the compoſition alone was good. That theſe had been always his principles, in which he had agreed with his friend, Mr. Burke, of whom he ſaid many kind and flattering [34] things, which Mr. Burke, I take it for granted, will know himſelf too well to think he merits, from any thing but Mr. Fox's acknowledged good nature. Mr. Fox thought, however, that, in many caſes, he was rather carried too far by his hatred to innovation.

Mr. Burke ſaid, he well knew that theſe had been Mr. Fox's invariable opinions; that they were a ſure ground for the con⯑fidence of his country. But he had been fearful, that cabals of very different inten⯑tions, would be ready to make uſe of his great name, againſt his character and ſen⯑timents, in order to derive a credit to their deſtructive machinations.

Mr. Sheridan then roſe, and made a lively and eloquent ſpeech againſt Mr. Burke; in which, among other things, he ſaid that Mr. Burke had libelled the Na⯑tional [35] Aſſembly of France, and had caſt out reflections on ſuch characters as thoſe of the Marquis de la Fayette and Mr. Bailly.

Mr. Burke ſaid, that he did not libel the National Aſſembly of France, whom he conſidered very little in the diſcuſſion of theſe matters. That he thought all the ſubſtantial power reſided in the republic of Paris, whoſe authority guided, or whoſe example was followed by all the Republics of France. The Republic of Paris had an army under their orders, and not under thoſe of the National Aſſembly.

N. B. As to the particular gentlemen, I do not remember that Mr. Burke men⯑tioned either of them— certainly not Mr. Bailly. He alluded, undoubtedly, to the caſe of the Marquis de la Fayette; but whether what he aſſerted of him be a libel [36] on him, muſt be left to thoſe who are ac⯑quainted with the buſineſs.

Mr. Pitt concluded the debate with becoming gravity and dignity, and a re⯑ſerve on both ſides of the queſtion, as related to France, fit for a perſon in a miniſterial ſituation. He ſaid, that what he had ſpoken only regarded France when ſhe ſhould unite, which he rather thought ſhe ſoon might, with the liberty ſhe had acquired, the bleſſings of law and order. He, too, ſaid ſeveral civil things concern⯑ing the ſentiments of Mr. Burke, as applied to this country.