relinquishment of America, nor a fruitless plan of accommodation. The former would little suit the magnanimity of a British Senate, animated by the sacred fire caught from a high-spirited people; the latter would be as ineffectual as inglorious, and without example in the history of mankind. Relinquish America! What is it but to desire a giant to shrink spontaneously into a dwarf? Relinquish America, and you also relinquish the West-Indies, and confine yourself to that narrow insular situation, which once made you hardly discernable on the face of the globe. My heart swells with indignation at the idea. Relinquish America! Forbid it yc spirits of Edward and Henry, whom Englishmen once held in veneration, and burned to imitate! Forbid it thou spirit of Wolfe, who, if thpu hast any consciousness of thy country’s wrongs, blushest to see a companion of thy victories so tamely give up thy conquests.

But in what does an offer of accommodation differ from a total relinquishment? The consequences of such an offer amount to a relinquishment. Are we not exultingly told of the triumphs, of the rising glories of America? Admit them. Can such a state be a time for reasonable accommodation? No man can be more friendly to peace than I, but I would have an honourable and adequate peace; and in order to obtain it, I contend, in the terms of the King’s Speech, for the most vigorous exertions.

Establish, first, your superiority, and then talk of negotiation. Did Rome, when Hanniba marched triumphantly up to her walls, sue for peace? She had more wisdom and spirit. She knew the moment was not favourable, and would not listen to any propositions till the tide of fortune changed, and commanded such an ascendency as the city’s courage and perseverance had a right to expect. Why should we not follow so bright an example? Our resources are greater, and I hope our spirit and constancy are not less. I am sure we do not struggle against such fearful odds. I own that, from fixed, radical causes in our Constitution and form of Government, the present aspect of affairs is rather inauspicious. But when did fortune smile upon us at the commencement of a war? Ever since the Constitution has been properly balanced, and the chief weight thrown into the scale of the people, time has been requisite to rouse the people, to rouse this assembly, in which alone the voice of the people can be clearly distinguished from that of clamorous faction. On this occasion, indeed, the people, seeing a party in the State willing, for reasons too obvious to need explanation, to give up their dearest rights, have spontaneously stood forth in support of their just claims, and convinced the most obstinate stickler for American independence, that the Minister has the nation with him. Opposition has confessed this truth; else why do they call upon the Minister to check the madness of the people? Many respectable members have, in enforcing coercion, declared that they speak the language of a great majority; and several, of every one of their constituents. Has Opposition been able to say as much? Not a syllable of this nature have they uttered. Why, then, do we hesitate? Because an inconsiderable party, inconsistent in their own politicks, and always hostile to all government but their own, endeavour to obstruct our measures, and clog the wheels of Government? Let us rather second the indignant voice of the nation, which presses in from all quarters upon the Sovereign, calling loudly for vigorous measures, and for the suppression of faction. Shall we be deaf to its call? Sir, we have been too long deaf; we have too long shown our forbearance and long-suffering; faction must now be curbed, must be subdued and crushed; our thunders must go forth; America must be conquered. Had my advice been taken, (and gentlemen insinuate that it is taken too much,) the House must do me the justice to own that a much more powerful force than General Gage had would have been sent to America. But it is not yet, I apprehend, too late; for I am not one of those ill-boding prophets who, from every disaster, augur destructive consequences, and whose prophecies, like those of antiquity, contribute more than any other circumstance to their own completion. I hold it dastardly in the counsellor of a great and mighty empire to encourage despondence, and to be the croaking raven of future mischiefs and calamities. Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito fortiaque adversis opponito pectora rebus; exert your courage in proportion to the difficulties to be surmounted; and, like your own oaks in the ocean, rise superior to the storm. Such is the language of the genuine friend of England; such, I am persuaded, is the language expected from us by a gallant nation, whose spirit, instead of being depressed, is only roused by adverse accidents. Shall we stand as a mound in the way of this torrent, which has hitherto borne down all opposition? Sir, I do not approve of that policy that would repress plebeian haughtiness, as it is called, and check that pride of empire with the idea of which the souls of our common people swell, feeling their own importance.

“Our lowest mechanicks, (it has been urged,) now talk familiarly of our subjects.” And why should they not? Feeling their own consequence, why should they not, like freemen, give free course to their thoughts? However lightly this spirit may be now prized, it is what has raised England to the great and glorious state which she now occupies. Do you imagine that the allurement of six pence a day fills our armies, mounts a breach, or takes a battery of cannon? No, sir; we owe all this to the ferment of youthful blood, to the high spirit of the people, to a love of glory, and a sense of national honour. Let us cherish so noble a principle, and we shall soon feel the good effects of its operation. This principle it was that frequently humbled the pride of France, that formerly ruined the Spanish armada, and lately baffled the Bourbon confederacy; the principle, in short, that lately crushed every power that ever had the temerity to encounter your collected rage. View the state of England in Elizabeth’s reign, and learn fortitude from her example. Was not Ireland disaffected and rebellious? Did not plots and conspiracies exist within the realm? And was she not pressed from without by the most powerful Monarch then in Europe? Yet she did. not listen to pusillanimous counsels; not a word was heard of accommodation. What was the event? Her firmness and magnanimity excited that of her subjects, and they laid her enemies prostrate at her feel. In similar circumstances, what was the conduct of William III., whom the abetters of America affect to prize so highly, and who, indeed, was a great and magnanimous Prince? Though engaged in a consuming war upon the Continent; though embarrassed with a dangerous rebellion in Ireland; though menaced with an invasion by France; pressed with real conspiracies at home, and opposed by a powerful party in Parliament ready to tear him from his throne, at least infinitely more hostile to him than, I hope, Opposition is to his present Majesty,—he stood unshaken in the storm, and the invincible constancy of the people saved him from shipwreck.

What happened within our own memory? At the commencement of the last war, did not every packet bring us the news of defeats in America? Were we not accustomed there to as many defeats as battles? Even the mighty General Washington himself, with his redoubted riflemen, was vanquished by the Indians on the banks of the Ohio. Disasters attended our arms in every quarter of the globe; the East-Indies were almost lost, and the Company bankrupts; Hanover was reduced; the Hanoverians were obliged to stand neutral; our only ally stood trembling on the brink of destruction; Minorca was taken; we were beat, at sea, (our own element,) and a universal dread of an invasion had seized the people. Did this assembly then yield to the suggestions of fear? Though opposed by the greatest powers in Europe, it stood firm and resolute, and communicated its fortitude to the whole empire. Everybody knows the event. Who, then, with such a picture before his eyes, can be so dastardly, or so weak and wicked, as to advise an infamous relinquishment of America, or an equally infamous accommodation? Whoever imagines that the thunders of our Navy may be set at defiance by a single cohorn and a shifting battery of a single gun, may; but I will not, till I hear more cogent arguments, till it is proved to me that the experiment has been made, and has been successful. Nor will I readily believe that our fleets may be set on fire in the great rivers of America by floating rafts of combustibles till I am convinced that the Americans are more daring and intrepid than English sailors, and that they will pursue this plan with more art and more courage than the Canadians did last war in the river St. Lawrence. The Americans are said to be formidable from the enthusiasm with which they are inflamed. It may be so; but I trust that there is a spirit in British troops that will be a full match for all