AT LOS ANGELES CRISIS. BY THE AUTHOR OF * s>' Vi PLAIN FACTS, OR A REI'IEW OF THE CONDUCT OF TflE LATE MINISTERS. THE FOURTH EDITION, CONSIDERABLY ENLARGED, SOI-l) I1V.IOI1.V UAF.I.V. HOOKSKI.I.KK, HO.MK.H'S nKAn,>n nsoM-s*. HATH. LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN JOSEPH STOCKDALE, NO. 41, PALL-MALL. 180S. Price Three Shillings and Sixpence. 9082 6 T, Gillet, Printer, Wild-ojurf, THE THE Continent having been subdued, -less however by the arms of its oppressor than by the folly and corruption of its governments, and the pusillanimity or in- difference of its people, it becomes a question of the highest moment to the welfare and safety of this empire, speedily to determine on the mode of policy which it is expedient to adopt, in consequence of this melancholy alteration in human affairs. The causes of those complicated and un- paralleled misfortunes which have befallen most of the European states, and have placed them entirely at the disposal of a vindictive and merciless despot, are suffi- ciently apparent. They may be plainly traced in their own acts ; in the irrational 300978 jealousies by which they have been domi- neered, and the unmanly fears by which they have been appalled. Buonaparte's uninterrupted success throughout his marvellous career, has in- duced him, on all occasions, to confide in its stability, and has seemed to justify in him a departure from those prudential maxims, which in other men would have been deemed a desperation approaching to insanity. After the disastrous issue of the campaign in 1805 ; after the dreadful examples which had in all quarters been exhibited ; it was not to be conceived that human nature could be so besotted, so sunk in lethargic slumber, so regardless of the ease and comfort and dignity of social independence, as to shrink from combin- ing in one great and magnanimous effort, o o o to rescue whatever is honorable or desirable in life from the misery and disgrace of a foreign yoke. Buonaparte's easy conquest, in the fol- lowing year, of the military (does it deserve that name?) strength of Prussia; the rapidity of its total dispersion, added to the eager- ness with which all the strong posts and fortresses of that once potent and warlike monarchy were betrayed into his possession, so elated his hopes, and bewildered his judgment, that he spurned every consider- ation on which the retention of conquest, or even the insurance of his political exist- ence seemed to depend. By his victory at Auerstadt and his subsequent triumphal entry into the Prussian metropolis, he had, one should have thought, accomplished enough to satisfy the feelings both of pride, and revenge over a humiliated and impotent foe. The king of Prussia was completely disarmed, and would gladly have submitted to any terms short of total annihilation, which the conqueror chose to dictate. But this did not correspond with the amplitude of Buonaparte's projects. The king of Prussia had still provinces to flee- to ; the Saxons were willing to separate themselves from the confederacy ; the Russians had provoked his anger ; and the Poles were again to be revolutionised, in order to make a provision for some branch 6 of his upstart family. These were the powerful motives, which, in defiance of all caution, stimulated him still to advance, and once more to risk the probability of being utterly undone, Mankind is so apt to reason from re- sults, to be dazzled by the glare of pros- perity, and to call that wise which turns out to be successful, that it is scarcely possible to prevail on them to contem- plate, with any portion of sober reflection, events such as have lately arisen. It must nevertheless be observed, and indeed at the time it was universally admitted, that Buonaparte's presumptuous imprudence implicated him, for several months, in a position which was full of difficulty and hazard. He was in a most embarrassing o and precarious dilemma. From his do- mestic resources he was separated near a thousand miles ; he was surrounded by states, which had been delivered up to the devastations of his troops, and which, had he sustained any signal reverse, would instantly have been in arms against him ; and he was opposed by an army which, although inferior in numerical force, im- pelled by gallantry and directed by skill, maintained an equal conflict, and held him completely in check. His battalions which, for the last few years, had always been accustomed to advance, and in ad- vancing, easily to surmount every obs- tacle as it presented itself, must have been mortified and dispirited at an in- terruption, which was not of an evanes- cent nature, to be removed by a tempo- rary additional exertion, but which, during a long and active campaign, resisted the utmost efforts of the bravery of his troops and the tactics of his generals. It does awaken most melancholy feel- ings, feelings verging towards despair, when we reflect what, at such a momen- tous period, an auxiliary force might have accomplished, and what, from the want of such an aid, has been irrecoverably lost. The Corsican chief, who, with his ruffian but organised hordes, had been for so many years the terror and the scourge of the fairest portions of the civilized world ; the rayages of whose destructive sword had been felt in every branch of human in- dustry, and in every recess of human en- joyment ; who had subverted every civil institution, and dissolved every social tie ; who had despised the prejudices, and trampled on the rights of mankind ; who had dethroned kings, and exterminated people ; who had mutilated the beauty and shaken even the constitution of na- ture ; this man, the curse and execration of his species, was, not merely for a day, not merely for a week, but for several months, so situated, that had there been a particle of vigour or generosity, or even of prudence or precaution, left in the Austrian councils, as far at least as moral reasoning can warrant an inference, might have been overthrown. If the Russians and Prussians were of themselves sufficient to arrest Buonaparte's progress, and even to contend with him for victory in the field ; if, in their numer- ous contests, each party claimed with equal pretension the ascendancy ; if Buonaparte, instead of fulfilling his gasconading pro- mises, was reduced to the miserable expe- dient of subterfuge and falsehood, in order to suppress the truth of events, and to keep down the spirit of insurrection, which was every day threatening to break out in the north of Germany ; it is very evident, that the accession of the military strength of Austria to that of the allied army, would have insured his total discomfiture. Un- fortunately, however, Austria bore a more rooted antipathy to Prussia than to France ; and, in obedience to this malignant passion, generated in distant times, but which ac- tual circumstances might have moderated, she secretly rejoiced at the total abase- ment with which her rival was menaced. The subjugation of Prussia was an event so palatable to her feelings, that she pre- ferred incurring, in her turn, the risk of a similar fate, to any interposition, which, by the reinstatement of the House of Bran- denburg, would not only have secured her own future independence, but might have recovered for her whatever has been se- vered from her empire, in all the disastrous wars which she has washed in the course of the last fifty years. Reduced and humbled as Prussia was, and suing on all sides for B 10 aid, Austria might have negotiated on her own terms. She might, by the expulsion of Buonaparte from the old German em- pire, have restored, in its full splendour, the Germanic constitution, and for ever have consolidated her ascendancy and her fame. But whilst Austria merits such bitter censure, I cannot help, at the same time, severely condemning the inexplicable re- missness of our own Government. After what had happened in the course of the last two years, our reliance on the cordial co-operation of Austria could not have been very strong. That generous spirit which is kindled and cherished by the love of country, the thirst of glory, and the pride of independence, had, almost throughout the continent, completely eva- porated. That holy fervour, which, in happier times, had impelled men cheerfully to endure every calamity rather than sub- mit to the reproach of cowardice, had lost its inspiring influence ; and they were either sunk in an indolence which rendered exertion the most intolerable of all evils, 11 or overwhelmed by a stupor which to- tally eclipsed both the mental and cor- poreal sight. Man was no longer what he had been, a being endowed with a quick apprehension of his interests, attached to his rights, resentful of injury, devoted to the government under which he lived, and to the community of which he was a mem- ber, and prepared to encounter every peril, and yield to every sacrifice, for the glory of his country, the defence of his property, or the protection of his family. All these fine sentiments were extinguish- ed, and he had become a sort of brute inanimate lump of matter, alike incapable of receiving or communicating any useful or honourable impression. But even if human nature had not degenerated into this morbid state of degradation, and there had been some fair reason to hope that Austria would pursue that conduct which her interests so plainly prescribed, yet surely we ourselves were sufficiently con- cerned in the issue of the contest, to be induced to employ our own powerful means, and not to leave to accident what to a certainty we could secure. 12 For several years past, but more parti- cularly since Buonaparte's unqualified usurpation, we have conducted the war on principles most palpably erroneous ; and that force which, concentrated, might have be^n efficiently employed, has been either frittered away in the inanity of colonial expeditions, or has been cooped up in places, which, from their position, have deprived it of all possibility of active ope* ration. But if this obvious mistake has been long persisted in, at no period was it pushed to such an extent, nor has it been productive of such mischievous con- sequences, as during the rule of the late administration. If ever there was a mo- ment pregnant with important events ; if ever there was a crisis on which the destiny of empires balanced, it occurred whilst they were entrusted with the direction of public affairs. Instead, however, of giving proofs of that enlightened judgment which Can alone wisely plan, or vigorously exe- cute, the whole of their time, which was not engaged in occupations that personally concerned them, was consumed in arrange- ments of domestic policy, which, without 13 inconvenience, might have been deferred, or in preparing and dispatching armaments which it would have been infinitely more judicious to have altogether omitted. Of what consequence was it, whether we pos- sessed a fortress or a few miles -of domain on the coast of South America ; or whether we occupied Egypt with five thousand men; or whether we bombarded Constantinople with seven sail of the line ? Our grand enemy was Buonaparte : our grand object was to rescue the continent from the grasp of his domination. Had we kept our troops collected in some convenient posi- tion at home, with an ample provision of transports ready to receive them at the moment their services were wanted, so as to have enabled us, a few weeks before or even after the battle of Eylau, to land forty or fifty thousand men in the rear of the allied armies, is there a military character in Europe, who will estimate at so low a rate the value of such a detachment of British soldiers, as to maintain that Buonaparte would not have been exposed to the risk of total destruction? This body of men oc- cupying the left wing of the French army, and being more than its match, would have enabled General Bennigsen, bv contracting / o his line, to strengthen his centre and his left wing, and, by such a movement, to out-flank the centre and right-wing of his antagonist. Thus assisted, Dantzick would have been speedily relieved ; and Buona- parte, once overpowered in the field, ha- rassed and pressed on every side, would, in his retreat, have been assailed by such a host of additional foes, that had he ef- fected his personal safety, which would have been very doubtful, he would have been so reduced in strength, and so ble- o ' jnished in reputation, that he never again could have become a formidable foe. Nor would the destruction of his army, had it been* accomplished, have been the greatest benefit which Europe would have derived from such an event. What would have been of far greater consequence, that magic spell, which has, for so great a length of time, obscured and enchained all the fa- culties of human action, would have been at once dissolved, and human affairs, after such tedious and distant deviations from their regular course, would have reverted ' 15 to their former channels. All the false splendour which encircles Buonaparte's character would have instantly vanished, and he would have appeared in his native baseness, as abject in adversity, as in pros- perity he has been haughty, cruel, and unjust. The satellites who have revolved with him in his rapid and destructive orbit, would with their primary planet have disappeared, and those who are now occupying thrones and principalities would have returned to the humble avocations, for which they are by birth and education and manners best fitted. Had Buonaparte used his fortune with any degree of moderation, he might have been entitled, if not to the applause^ at least to the gratitude of mankind. Had he made an honest use of it, and been as sedulous to restore, as he has been zealous to destroy, his memory would have been embalmed in the everlasting gratitude and veneration of his species. His friends ex- claim, But why abuse him ? Why call him by degrading names ? Why not allow him at least that merit which no one in justice 16 can deny him ? Nor am I at all inclined to refuse him what I conceive to be his due. I may differ with others about the measure, which, in many respects, must ever remain matter of judgment and opi- nion. Nor do I pretend to scrutinize into the hidden recesses of the human heart. I know that we cannot analize it like a mineral production ; that we cannot assay it as we can a piece of gold ; that we cannot accurately separate the dross from the finer particles, or estimate its value in carats and grains. Still there are visible o moral effects by which its intrinsic worth may be calculated, and by these I jud^e. Am I then to be told that I injure the cause of virtue, when I designate vice by those epithets which best express its de- formity ? Am I to be told that I injure the cause of my country, by making my countrymen familiar with the character of its bitterest foe, and by holding up to their just abhorrence and indignation, a being who has added more to the sum of human affliction, than any other scourge that ever infested the earth ? Is it only low wicked- ness, regulated by vulgar contrivances, and limited to the casual destruction of a few obscure individuals, that is to b : 3 exposed to public execration ; and is the mighty destroyer of nations and laws, of commerce and arts, of justice and religion, to retain his usurpation, and to pursue his profli- gate career, impervious to reproach t I may- lament, I may dread, but am I bound to re- spect, that power which has been founded in violence and fraud, and which can only be preserved by the terrors and the havoc of military despotism ? Am I bound to esteem, or venerate, or love, the members of an obscure and rapacious family merely because they have been sharers in the spoils of one great delinquent, who has invested them with the rights and property of others, and who, instead of denominating them by their legal names, and confining them to their proper stations, has decorated them with the noblest titles, and raised them to the most elevated offices ? Am I bound to respect a court, where the sovereign is a usurper of mean extraction and profligate morals, and who is surrounded by courtiers as vulgar and as infamous as himself ; where honour and virtue are equally scandalized, c 18 and where a system of morals is exhibited, from which all decency or elegance or refine- ' ~ inent is totally excluded ; where there is nothing for honesty to approve, or for gentility to imitate ; where the women have formerly followed the professions of milli- ners, players, opera-dancers, bawds and strumpets ; and where the men have figured away in the equally respectable characters of shopmen, fiddlers, hair-dress- ers, low clerks, gamesters, and common swindlers ? Am I to respect such things, because they have shouldered their supe- riors from their places, and, tricking themselves out in the frippery which many of them once sold, they impudently ape the manners of the antient and dignified classes of society ? No ! As long as I re- tain the birth-right of a Briton, and when that is gone I care little what else fol- lows, never will I so scandalously prosti- tute my pen, or pervert and confound the terms of language. In this country we have still a free press, and wretched in- deed would be the lot of mankind, if the arm of power could universally stifle the voice of truth, and if vice could always 19 extort from subdued humanity the pane- gyric to which virtue alone has a claim. I judge Buonaparte by the fairest of arl criteria, the general tenor of his acts : I appreciate his merit by the inherent qua- lities which he displays : and as long as I am blessed with the faculty of speech, thinking as I do, that he is deserving of the bitterest execrations, I will never asso- ciate any thing honourable, or virtuous, or truly great, with his name. It is a dreadful visitation on the corrup- tions of mankind, that a being so endowed, with passions and propensities which are everlastingly propelling him to the com- mission of acts destructive of all the most valuable blessings of life, should be in pos- session of a measure and : ascription of power, that enables him to carry his bane- ful resolves into such extensive execution. And the consideration of this power is ren- dered doubly mortifying and afflicting, when we reflect how easily and how effec- tually it might, at one period, have been resisted. 20 At the close of the late negotiations with France, which were conducted with so much affected courtesy and moderation, but with so little real skill, and which were even protracted long after the result was obvious to the dullest capacity, there was yet time to repair the mischief which had been so studiously disregarded, or so culpably sought. When Buonaparte quitted Pans to take the command of his armies against Prussia, secret intelligence, in which we have ever been so miserably de- ficient, was no longer of use. The deter- mination which he had long privily made, was now publicly proclaimed ; and it surely required no great depth of penetration to discover the progression of his plans. Was not this then the moment to combine our preparations, to organize our schemes, to collect our resources, and to be ready, with a powerful and commanding force, effectually to assist those, who, by be- coming his enemies, were sure to become our allies ? The oi.iy foe we had to dread was Buonaparte. Against him our whole strength ought consequently to have been directed. It we overcame him, every col- 21 lateral object was gained : if he prevailed, any advantages that we might gain in other quarters, could be of little avail. To what end then, on what principles of sound judgment or prudent policy, could we so inconsiderately engage in distant enter- prizes from which, if we succeeded, we conld derive no benefit equivalent to the expence, and which moreover, by seriously diminishing our strength at home, disabled u* from effecting the attainment of all our hopes and speculations, which was the destruction of Buonaparte's continental authority? The fate of our expeditions to Egypt and Constantinople 1 KM been such as, from the preparations, was to be expected. By the former, many brave n>eii have been uselessly sacrificed in occupvLig a district, which they, eventually, will be compelled to abandon : by the latter, ;:he commercial world has been exposed to the loss of a lucrative branch of trade, and the country has been involved in a war with an old and faithful ally. Our expedition to South America, which was on a greater scale, has been pregnant witii proportion- ably greater follv, and lias had a nn;por- / G V ' i i 22 tionably disastrous termination. Inde- pendently of the disgrace of failure, it has been attended with very extensive incon- venience and loss. The bravery of our soldiers was never more conspicuous, and, on that account, their slaughter is doubly to be deplored. Yet however creditable this expedition may have been to our na- tional courage, it has certainly, in the esti- mation of mankind, plucked many a leaf from the wreath of our military skill. But it partook, in its origin, of those palpable defects with which every scheme concerted by the late administration so surprisingly abounded, and nothing but what has hap- pened could have been calculated on by any well-informed and reflecting mind. A free trade with the extensive conti- nent of South America, was certainly an object of considerable political utility ; and if, instead of aiming at conquest for our- selves, we had assisted m the emancipa- tion of the oppressed inhabitants of those fertile regions from the Spanish yoke, the force required for the purpose would have been trifling, and the object would have 23 been permanently secured. But engaging in this expedition, in the view of extending our empire, the motive became a selfish one, and a determined resistance, on the part of the Spaniards, was instantly creat- ed. The affair presented itself to their optics in its natural point of vie\r, and they only perceived in our success a change of masters, who, in addition to that rigor- ous exercise of empire which conquest im- plies, were surveyed with augmented jea- lousy and dread on the score of religious */ v? prejudices. Heretics would have been gladly received as deliverers ; but as in- vaders, they were indignantly abhorred ; and those advantages which, by a generous policy, we might have obtained, by our foolish ambition we have forfeited. A blunder, still more ruinous in its consequences, was committed by the as- semblage of a numerous army in Sicily, of whose services, from its position, we were totally deprived. That kind of in- fatuation which could have induced the late ministry, to immnre in such a corner *o powerful a force, it is impossible to ac- 24 count for. A measure, so replete with absurdity, betrays a degree of obstinacy or of ig n , >rance, which in statesmen is al- together inexcusable, and has been the cause of disasters to this country, most mournful in their nature, and in their con- sequences irreparable. The moment is now passed at which Buonaparte might have been successfully attacked, nay at / / winch he might, to a iiK/ral certainty, have been vanquished, nor is it likely speedily to recur. Their total misap- plication of the resources of the empire, has, therefore, been accompanied with no trifling or ordinary mischief. It has di- verged in every i.'iroctioii : it has been felt m every combination: it has injured the essential interests oi he civilized globe : and it has inflicted a v/ound on the glory and prosperity of Great Britain, which all the skill of science or art may be incom- petent to heal. Having thus failed through the incapa- city and mismanagement of our late leaders, both in policy and duty, our chief busi- ness now is to consider on the means left 25 to extricate ourselves (if it be still feasible) from those augmented difficulties and dan- gers in which we have been involved. Oix all occasions of moment, success greatly depends on decisive and vigorous conduct. Under particular circumstances, celerity of action frequently accomplishes more than wisdom of deliberation. Promp- titude of attack" displays such an undoubt- ed proof of energy of character, that it creates for itself advantages which, whilst they surmount difficulty, diminish danger. What the French have gained in the field, has been chiefly from the quickness of their movements. In every enterprize, they have been beforehand with their oppo- nents. Even the desperation with which they have embarked, has often been the instrument of triumph. Sunk in indo- lence, indifferent to consequences, terrified by imaginary fears, no firmness nor con-' stancy, nor activity of spirit, has been any where manifested, capable of repelling their bold assaults ; and the mere audaciousness of their demands has, in many instances, extorted compliance. Not that I am wis'h- D 26 ful of recommending the conduct of France as a pattern altogether fit for the adoption of our government. But such is the present melancholy aspect of affairs, that, to a cer- tain extent, it must be so contemplated, and indeed is the only apparent mode within our reach, by which our safety can be secured. Much as I feel inclined to venerate the ancient public law of Europe ; that law which, for a long series of ages, by pre- serving a political balance, upheld the in- dependence^ of the various states into which it was divided, and, with their pre- servation, contributed to the advancement of every elegant refinement, or useful oc- cupation ; ardently as I wish that that law, and the innumerable benefits which it con- ferred, were still in force ; yet when I per- ceive one man, whose power or influence, this flourishing and happy land excepted, extends to every circle of civilized life, and almost to every privilege of animated na- ture ; when I perceive this man, thus gift- ed, completely breaking up the old system, by which nations, in their conduct towards each other, have been hitherto regulated ; 27 -Tvo &' " " V" ' tl'i ' f " 4 'r(^*r~V '.f** "** when I observe him totally disregarding the faith of treaties, 'the authority of local habits, and the enthusiasm of national pre- judices ; setting every ordinance, both hu- man and divine, completely at defiance ; and promulgating decrees which are uni- versally to operate, according to the ca- pricious inclinations of his base and irrit- able passions ; when things are carried to this extreme pitch, we are compelled, in bur own defence, to consider how we can best avert the mischief which he has in- flicted on others, and which he is medi- tating to extend to us. If we cannot pre- serve ourselves by adhering to those pre- scriptive rules which, from being deserted by others, no longer protect us, we surely are released from all obligation to obey them ; and it depends entirely on our dis- cretion to adopt that new mode which new circumstances require. If others suffer from this change in our conduct, we are not to blame that is their misfortune, not our crime; and the whole mischief is to be imputed to him who forces us into this un- avoidable state. 28 In conformity to this ^reasoning, we are not only justifiable in having recourse to those regulations which are best qualified to defeat and confine his; k but we are guilty of an evident dereliction of a most sacred duty, by postponing the determina- tion so to act. Every society is indispen- sably bound to watch over its perpetuation. When that leading object of its solicitude can be effected by the maintenance of mild laws, and the observance of ancient usages, a departure from them is a wicked, and may become a dangerous experiment. But when, by an adherence to them, its exist- ence, from the previous desertion of others, is endangered, it is not only weak but cri- minal, to persevere in obedience. Self- preservation supersedes every other obli- gation, and to the safety of the common- wealth inferior considerations must yield. Buonaparte having therefore, in every particular, totally annulled the public law of Europe, and, in his principles and his acts, far outstripped every occasional ex- cess, which has ever been committed by those in whose hands the power of empire 29 has before resided, we must rescn$ to the solitary alternative which his injus- tice has left us, and endeavour to oppose the profligacy and outrages of his designs by the sternness of retaliation. Thus, he having declared this country in a state of blockade, and, by the most nefarious edicts, compelled every port, over which his authority extends, to be shut against our manufactures, we should instantly re- solve to cut off his means of supply, as well as those of his dependents and friends, by excluding all possibility of commercial dealings from their havens. We should convert our navy to the same use which he makes of his army ; and, by putting a complete hinderance to neutral interven- tion, convince him that our power could be more detrimentally employed than his. Affairs have at length reached that aggra- vating and outrageous point of enmity, that it is worse than folly to be any longer restrained in our proceedings by the deli- cacy of sentiment, or the forms of cere- mony. Buonaparte has in the plainest terms declared, and he has acted up to the declaration, that every nation which he io 'Great Britain, and shall, in concert with him,' contribute its aid to augment our 'embarrassments, and accelerate our p6- Jitical extinction. This being the case, we. should be guided in our actions towards him according to the conduct which he observes towards us ; and as long as he perseveres in the enforcement of his pernicious doctrines, we should retaliate by similar acts, till we have impressed him with proper notions of the folly of the experiment on his part. Whilst we continue to persevere in our present system 6? meekness and modera^ tion, by confining ourselves to the obsolete' public law of Europe, we evidently disarm ourselves of half our power ; and Buona- parte, who is restrained by no such squea- mish disposition, derives signal and innu- merable advantages from the severity of his commercial regulations. But should we interpose with our preponderating means, and retaliate on him and his friends by the same rigorous inhibitions, he would spee- dily discover that the chief suffering re- 31 eoiled on himself. Such is the singular and afflicting position of Europe at this moment, that, strictly speaking, there are but two independent states. From the continent which he has subjugated, Buo- naparte has banished all neutrality. The only neutrality remaining among the na- tions of the globe is a maritime one, whicj* of course exists by sufferance from .us. From this sufferance France dejives all the benefit, and we incur all the mischief. On what principles of policy or justice we are bound to tolerate such an unequal state of things, it is needless to attempt to explain. >,;r The distresses and inconveniences, to which our commerce is subjected, in con- sequence of our tame acquiescence in Buo- naparte's tyrannic ordinances, are suffi- ciently evident. They are every day ac- cumulating in number and weight, and, o o unless speedily redressed, may be produc- tive of the most ruinous effects. The exportation to the continent being nearly at an end, our trade, in all its branches, has sustained an alarming shock. It is in vain t endeavour to conceal the consequences 32 of Buonaparte's prohibitory laws. He may Suffer from them himself, but with that we have nothing to do : we suffer with him, and to an infinitely greater extent. Our oftfces of customs and excise, which used to display such busy scenes, indicative both of our industry and our wealth, are now deserted places, where nobody is in attendance but the clerks, who, for want of better employment, are renewing the sports and pastimes of their boyish days. The docks and wharfs, which were formerly crowded with ships loading and unloading their valuable cargoes, and the streets on the water-side, which were perpetually thronged with carts conveying the richest commodities from one repository to an- other, now exhibit a silent and lifeless scene. These are serious evils, and, un- less soon remedied, must be the cause of a defalcation in the revenue which will not be easily repaired. West and East India produce, those two leading branches of our commerce, have also, for want of a foreign market, become nearly a dead stock. Be- yond our domestic consumption they are totally unsaleable, and, from the immense 33. stores on hantl, are, so; lowered in price; that .they yield scarcely sufficient to clear the duties, and the expences\of freight, commission, and other charges to which they are Jiable. The planter and the mer*- chant must consequently be deprived; -not- only of alLprofit; foiit of the means of de-> fraying those disbursements which they must unavoidably incur ; and as no people can be induced to labour- long without re- ward, unless something be done to relieve them from this insupportable pressure, their occupations will be discontinued, and the revenue, with other innumerable ad- vantages derived from the intricacy and variety of their extensive concerns, will be withdrawn from the fund of our national resources. From the gradual progress of society, the productions of the Eastern and West- ern hemispheres have become articles of general consumption, and the inhabitants of the European countries have been so fa- miliarised with their use, that they are as indispensable to their comforts -and their wants as those of indigenous- gr a wthu Un- 34 less- then, tliere b^ a physical impossibility of, -procuring them, they will never submit t0fl$ift deprivation. But it is the spirit of commerce, to rind out the cheapest me- tl*drr>i> is tacking the different markets with these i articles of general consumption and demand. As long, therefore, ; as neutral vesddsi ace permitted to cover the seas, and to maintain nearly a direct correspond- ence between the European statek;and the distant; regions of the globe, it stands to Rea- son,; that they will be resorted to absolutely necessary for the attainment of our object. Not a shot was fired till every effort at negotiation had failed. Nor was o the triumph of victory sullied by any of those excesses which are so frequently committed by* an elated soldiery. T!u> severest discipline was in all quarters main- tained. Persons and property were equally respected. Even the feelings of the inha- bitants were spared, and the exultation of 53 success gave way to the esteem which was clue to their bravery, and the compassion which was excited by their misfortunes. What a contrast to the capture of a be- sieged town by a French army ! The seizure of the Danish marine is a masterly stroke of political sagacity. Indeed, the entire transaction redects infinite credit on the present administration. Compared with the pitiful or disastrous schemes of their predecessors, it cannot fail to establish their reputation on the broad basis of public opinion. The preparations were made with a celerity and a secrecy, such as, of late years, have not very frequently character- ised the measures of our cabinet, and what was of still greater moment, the force dis- patched was adequate to the accomplish- ment of the object in view. It was a co- herent and consistent plan, well digested and organized throughout, and which has been no less admirable in its developement than in its conception. It has given proofs of a decree of vigour worthy of the exhaust- i- ' ^3 / less resources with which this country is blessed, and has evinced a determination to depart from those creeping maxims, and 54 to burst asunder those oppressive chains, by which our best energies have for so lon<* a time been shackled. It has also regene- rated for us a character as politicians, which the late administration had suffered to fall into utter contempt ; and whilst the nations of Europe were imagining that we were crouching under the superiority of Buo- naparte's genius, and were rendered inca- pable of any important enterprise, it has exposed the fallacy of their expectations, and has taught them that we have still sense left to contrive, courage to attempt, and power to accomplish. A great outcry has nevertheless been raised by a particular set of partizans against the immorality of these proceedings. But it is natural, that those who would destroy us by their inactivity, should loudly carp at what is now the only policy left to reinstate our affairs. It is in them a perfectly consistent conduct. What their neglect or mismanagement would lose, they regret to see secured by the energy and skill of their rivals. It is a fatal blow to their political fame, and must remove to the vanishing 55 point of perspective, all rational hope of a return to power. We are thus asked a whole string of questions, such as " what right had we to invade a neutral state ; to molest a friendly power ; to depart from the law of nations :" with a multitude of others equally significant and pertinent. My answer to all these interrogatories, and I mean it to apply to whatever else of a correspondent nature we may think fit to do, is this : That our interest, and by in- terest I mean, in this instance, that defini- tion of it, which amounts to necessity, re- quired such a proceeding. Independently of this, which however I do not purpose to advance as having influenced the motive, or induced the act, the Danes will ulti- mately be gainers. It is however a satis- factory coincidence in their favour. As they must have fallen either to Britain or to France, there can be question which will prove the mildest aad most generous master. France invades to destroy: we invade to avert tiiat destruction. When France conquers, she sternly places every thing at the mercy 01 the sword : when we conquer, the justice and benignity of our 56 domestic laws equally shelter the persons and the property of those, whom the for- tune of war has placed at our disposal. Wherever French power penetrates, all the horrors of private pillage and public con- fiscation, of insult and oppression of every denomination, are dealt forth with unre- lenting austerity : wherever British power interposes, it faithfully upholds the sanc- tity of religion, the authority of jurisdic- tion, and preserves, with inviolable ho- nour, every claim of private property and of personal freedom. By our invasion of Denmark, we have secured the prize which the French chiefly coveted ; and, by thus removing the principal motive for their attack, have probably averted the frightful outrages of their subjugation. By taking possession of the Danish fleet, we have prevented it from being delivered up to a government already too strong, and which would only have employed it as an addi- tional instrument to tyrannise over man- kind. In the hands of France, it would have been forfeited for ever : in our hands, it may possibly, at some future period, be restored. 57 It has been further demanded, how we could be certain that France would have molested the Danes ? But after what France lias done, such an inquiry is almost too childish to deserve a r, ply. After the direful examples which, on every side, sur- round us, are we then to wait till France is in actual possession, before we begin tc* suspect her intentions ? Has she approved herself so scrupulous, so delicate in her proceedings ; has she betrayed such a re- gard for justice, and such a tenderness of giving offence ; that we must be charged with having committed against her an act O O of indefensible suspicion, when we imagine that she may be prevailed on to swerve from the path of political rectitude ? But even if we were not allowed to guess at her designs, has she not publicly declared them ? Has she not told us, that she will not suffer a European port to be open to the reception of our commerce ? To carry this threat into execution, has she not annulled the jurisdiction and municipal laws of all the free towns of Germany ; lias she not barricaded every port in the Mediterranean ; has she not entered into a JH 58 scheme with the emperor of Russia to shut up the ports of the Baltic ; has she not obli- ged the Turks to banish us from the ports of the Archipelago ; has she not expelled the Swedes from Pomerania ; has she not as- sembled an army for the invasion of Hols- tein, and concerted measures for closing the passage of the Sound ; and has she not published her intention of invading Portu- gal, and of obliging the family of Braganza to abdicate the throne, that her chief may extend to that unfortunate and defenceless country the curse of his sovereignty ? When people ask what the Danes have done to kindle Buonaparte's resentment, let them also ask what the Portuguese have done. They have done nothing: they have even done less than the Danes ; for with an equal impotency or desire to molest France, or to resist her insult and oppression, they have, more than once, purchased their neutrality at an enormous expence. In order to preserve, d ring Buonaparte's pleasure, the fallacious appearance of in- dependence, immense sums have been ex- torted from them, and they have been degraded to the rank of a tributary 59 state. The allurement of Portugal is her wealth ; her crime, keeping up with Great Britain a commercial connexion. Buona- parte, therefore, is stimulated to the ful- filment of his denunciation by the three most powerful motives which have hitherto been the rule of his action : namely, his ambition, his avarice, and his revenge. Justice never enters into his contempla- tion ; his doctrines are throughout Ma- chiavelian. Artifice imposes on credulity, stratagem supplants honour, and power constitutes right. Whenever his vanity, his cupidity, or his resentment is to be gratified, it is equally idle to attempt to awe him by the decrees of justice, or to sooth him by the language of supplica- tion. The power of France has grown up on the continent, chiefly, from the cowardice, treachery, and stupidity of those states which have been subdued ; but partly, from the mismanagement and supineness of this country. Such has been her unex- ampled success, that all resistance, except ours, is already crushed ; and she, has cer- 60 tainly become sufficiently formidable, even to this last barrier against universal domi- nion. Danger is not to be avoided by glancing at it side-ways. If we wish to escape it, we must not disguise it by op- tical deceptions : we must look it full in the face, and minutely examine it in all its properties and parts. And if we thus survey it, we must confess it to be great. But if our adversary has powerful means at his disposal, and is actuated by a fixed deter- mination to exert those, means in the way most likely to prove fatal to us ; we have the consolation to know; that we are also blessed with powerful means, and with re- sources which, if properly called forth and applied, are not only completely adequate to the maintenance of our independence, but to impress on his mind a conviction. th&Lwe are more than equal to him in, the 1 "*"^-%lT contest. 'But to effect this, no timid policy. no ordinary exertion, will be sufficient. We must be strenuous in our resolutions, energetic in our operations. Discarding the tametiess of hesitation, we must boldly step forth to action, erect in countenance^ firm in our advances, and clad in the sto.ut- 61 est armour of defence, the justice of our cause. By making the country intimately acquainted with its real situation, we must infuse into its population that spirit which is commensurate with the difficulty and the magnitude of the occasion. By so doing, by explaining every thing, and con- cealing nothing, we shall familiarize them with the contemplation of those great sa- crifices to which they must be called upon to submit, and which can alone secure a triumphant issue to the arduous struggle in which they are embarked. "Whilst the present painful crisis lasts, things should be so ordered and arranged, that, whatever circumstances may ulti- mately arise, we may be fully prepared to meet them. Independently of our naval superiority, and those numerous signal ad- vantages which appertain to our Insular situation, we should be defended by a mi- litary force sufficient, without any confe- derate aid, to combat the legions of our enemy. And such a force might,' I con- ceive, be raised, without any material inconvenience to the civil pursuits of 62 the country. The plans for this object, which have been officially laid before parliament, are obviously inadequate ; and of ail those which have been submitted to public consideration, that suggested by Lord Selkirk is evidently the most complete. With very trifling alterations, which would best suggest themselves upon experiment, I am convinced that it might be carried into execution. It might o O occasion murmuring at first ; but as soon as the nation was satisfied that their safety depenxled upon it, that murmuring would be changed into applause. Besides, if the contrary were the case, no government should be deterred from the pursuit of what is ' right, by the dread of what is unpopular. They should proceed, un- moved by complaint ; and they should reflect, that the time may come when, if they shrink from their duty, they may have more to fear from popular clamour and resentment for having provided too little, than for having provided too much. When existence is at stake, it is better to err from caution than from negligence. We then mt least err on the right side ; and, in the 63 mean time, the security which is afforded amply compensates for the inconvenience which is caused. It is impossible to dive into the events of futurity. AH that hu- man wisdom can do, is to conjecture by reasoning from analogy. The best pru- dence, at all events, is, by computing from possible contingencies, to be fortified against every reverse. The moment of danger is not the moment of counsel, and should we at any period be surprised by the activity of a vindictive foe, however advanced our preparations may be, we shall have abundance left to occupy our attention. We have now leisure to modify fend arrange our plans, and by not post- poning our exertions, whatever may occur, we shall have nothing to dread. Regarded as to means of defence, this country is perhaps beyond every other on earth calculated for resistance. It is in possession of every advantage which can enable it to assert, or which can tend to confirm and perpetuate, its independence. Surrounded by the sea ; furnished with in- numerable strong positions ; abundant in 64 i population ; fruitful in soil ; inexhaustible in wealth ; a free government ; and, above all, a resolute, high-minded, and warlike people ; a people generous as they are brave ; impatient of domestic usurpation ; and indignant at the thoughts of foreign slavery ; equally signalized in arts and arms ; devoted to their religion from the conviction of reason; enamoured of their Jaws, which have been acquired by their blood ; indissolubly attached to their cus- tomS; and averse to those of foreign lands ; anxious to acquit themselves of those sacred obligations, which belong to them as the members of a great community ; inspired by the example of recent achievements ; and whose history unfolds to their imita- tion a series of heroic exploits : with such a people, a wise and paternal government jean accomplish every thing. The mate- rials are at hand, and if not found answer- able to the occasion, the fault will lie in the use to which they are put. It is my firm and unalterable opinion, that, if this coun- try should ever fall, the blame will not belong to those who are ruled, but to those o who rule. 65 When we consider what would be our lot, should we be subdued by the present government of France, there surely is enough to awaken caution, and to excite activity. When we recollect the threats which our adversary has uttered against us, and figure to ourselves how infinitely those threats would be surpassed by his acts, we surely can consider nothing as a hardship which contributes to our safety. No pen can describe, nor can imagination well conceive, the misery of our fate, if we were once at the disposal of the tyrant of France. The sufferings of other countries, which have basely received his yoke, have been sufficient to harrow up the heart, and to wring the very soul with anguish ; yet mild have been their sufferings, to the hor- O ' rors of that destiny to which we should be doomed to submit. Their calamities have chiefly arisen from the temporary indul- gence of base passions, from the licentious- ness of victory, the avarice of plunder, or the dissipation of pleasure. Having fa- voured, rather than opposed Buonaparte's success, they have been treated more with a feeling 1 of contempt excited by weakness, K 66 than with a feeling of revenge provoked by resistance. But we have acted a wor- thier part. We have not only been the opposer, but the rival of France. In feats of prowess we have imitated her ; in every thing else that is laudable we have surpass- ed her. Our cause has been sanctified by its justice, and has embraced every benefit which dignifies or embellishes the blessings of life : her's is founded in usurpation, and has been maintained by every atrocity of which human nature can be guilty. We have aimed at the perpetuation of civil so- ciety ; she has nearly completed its ruin. Against the entire fulfilment of her designs, we have been, and still continue to be, a solitary obstacle. In proportion as that obstacle has been effectual, has the ran- cour of vengeance been kindled in her un- relenting breast ; and, that obstacle re- moved, she would rush upon us with all the fury of which her diabolical nature is capable. As our defence has been glorious, so would our chastisement be severe. As we have been worthy of her esteem, so should we feel her resentment. It would be the purport of our new master, to- 67 tally to extinguish every noble or manly feeling ; to train us to burdens and stripes; to break us in to the endurance of his dis- pensations, by subduing every humanized sentiment of the soul. Our monarchy would be subverted ; our royal family, our bishops, our nobles, our judges, our most distinguished naval and military officers, our chief commoners, would be barba- rously butchered ; our remaining gentry, our yeomanry, our peasantry, would be reduced to the most galling and abject ser- vitude. Add to this, the profanation of our altars ; the abolition of our laws ; the destruction of our courts of justice; the total ruin of our agriculture, our com- merce,, our manufactures, and our arts. We might weep over the recollection of former happiness ; we might mourn over the tomb of departed greatness ; but use- less would be our tears, and unavailing our regret ; they would only expose us to fresh indignities, to the taunts and mockery of our fell destroyers. No longer would the house of an Englishman be his cattle, no longer would it be a sanctuarv under the */ protection of the constitution. Neither 68 this, nor any other privilege would con- tinue to exist ; but every thing that we have been taught to venerate or love, would be indiscriminately delivered up to the consuming rapacity of plunder, the gross appetency of lust, and the exterminating rage of tumultuous revenge. Every de- scription of property would be wrested from us ; not a shadow of personal free- dom would remain; and, whilst our wo- men were abandoned to the promiscuous embraces of a brutal soldiery, the blood of our parents and our children would moisten the invader's sword. Every base and baleful passion would be allowed an unrestrained course, and the infernal agents of the despot's will would be recompensed in proportion as they diffused the havoc of his vengeance. It is to guard against such evils, it is to shield us against such dire calamities, of which this description is but a feeble de- lineation, that the government and the people of this hitherto free and happy land, are called upon for exertion. Indepen- dently of those considerations in which 69 our own interests are more immediately concerned, we have a glorious example to hold forth to the world. We have to convince other nations, how that misfor- tunes might have been averted had they sincerely struggled in the same cause, and, through that conviction, to animate them, at some future period, to attempt to re- cover by courage what cowardice has lost. We have further to consider, that this land is now the last refuge of virtue, the ~ 7 last asylum of liberty, the last sanctuary of religion, the last barrier against the in- roads of military despotism, and the utter dissolution of political independence. We have to consider, that if it perish, every blessing and ornament of life will perish with it, and that the wretched and degraded state to which it will be reduced, will be rendered still more intolerable by the re- collection of former happiness. If, then, there ever was any thing in human affairs worthy of affection ; if ever there was any thins; truly majestic and interesting in the O V *J ~ fate of humanity ; any situation worthy of inspiring the holy fervour of enlightened patriotism, the sacred resolution of 70 mous devotion, it is that which this great country at this tremendous crisis exhibits. Nor must we flatter ourselves, that. we are near the conclusion of our troubles. We are possibly at the commencement of far greater than any that we have yet ex- perienced. This is a conjecture full of awe, but not of a nature to dishearten us. A brave and gallant people rise in spirit in proportion to the trials which await them, and always display qualities answerable to the emergency which presents itself. Many there are, I know, who are silly enough to cherish hopes of a speedy peace : some there are, who, from selfish views, are wicked enough to wish to purchase that event at any price. How indeed is it to be brought about, except by the debase- ment of our honour and the capitulation of our rights ; by the acknowledgment of Buonaparte's host of vagrant kings, and the surrender of that high political ascen- dancy which we have hitherto so proudly maintained? Even with a submission to these mortifications and disadvantages to aid us in its accomplishment, could we 71 hope to insure its duration ? It is absurd to entertain such a notion. We should only be the slaves of our baseness, or the dupes of our credulity. We can never live on terms of friendship with the pre- sent government of France. The hatred of her tyrant is too deadly, the causes of that hatred are too deep-rooted, ever to admit of repose to his malice, when we are the subject of his meditation. We may consent to a truce ; we may agree to a treaty ; but we can never conclude a solid and cordial peace. Never can we expect the rancourous resentment with which he surveys us to be immerged in oblivion, or disarmed of its sting. He too well knows that his security depends on our destruc- tion. As long as we continue to hold out the example of valour and freedom to Eu- rope and to France, he is too well aware that he can never be safe. Of such an example he dreads the contagion. Whilst we are prosperous and happy, we can never tranquillize his fears by becoming the ob- ject of his scorn. Our happiness makes his crown totter on his brow, and under- mines the perishable foundations of his 72 throne. Our prosperity is a thorn which is perpetually festering in his side : it is a gangrene which Ulcerates his passions, and corrodes his heart. As long, therefore, as he lives, we must be prepared for war. We must banish from our thoughts all sor- did and reptile views, and assiduously cul- tivate those masculine virtues which, by rendering us conversant with danger., will enable us to face it undismayed. We must nourish our courage with the wholesome aliment of endurance. We must foster the cardinal virtue of patience. There is fre- quently more intrepid fortitude displayed in the period which precedes the attack, than in the crisis which encounters it. The former may be a momentary act of desperation ; but the latter bespeaks that true expansion and sublimity of soul, which can contemplate peril under all its modifi- cations with undaunted resolution. Let us. then, whilst humiliating ourselves before God, and devoutly craving his Al- mighty protection, firmly resolve to per- form our several parts, in a manner worthy of the righteous cause which is committed 73 to our defence, and which will be equally calculated to sustain past celebrity and pre- sent hope. Let all ranks emulate each other in the conscientious discharge of these pious obligations, and, suppressing the feelings of domestic disunion, and the bitterness of party animosity, unite, with one common consent, in the most glorious of all human occupations, the preservation of National Independence. If, after such endeavours, it should still be our destiny to tail, we shall at least have reserved the best conso- lation which adversity can afford, that of having faithfully acquitted ourselves of our duty. Instead of having cowered with the dastardly humility of slaves, we shall have contended with the generous courage of freemen ; and, whilst our glorious resist- ance will have diminished the value of the conquest, it will rear a mausoleum to our memory at which our posterity will have no reason to blush. London, Sept. 25, 1807- POSTSCRIPT. HIS Majesty's declaration, on the sub- ject of the invasion of Zealand, was in- serted in the newspapers the day after this pamphlet was published, and is of a nature to remove the scruples of the most casu- istical, and to neutralize the cavils of the most querulous. It is one of the most eloquent, energetic, and consistent state papers that has for a long time appeared ; and it affords an additional instance of the vigour and talent which are resident in the present cabinet. No doubts can possibly beany longer entertained as to the justifi- cation of the measure. We have his Ma- jesty's royal word, that " he had received the most positive information of the de- termination of the present ruler of France to occupy, with a military force, the ter- ritory of Ilolstein, for the purpose of ex- cluding Great Britain from all her accus- tomed channels of communication with the continent ; of inducing or compelling 75 the court of Denmark to elose the passage of the Sound against the British commerce o and navigation ; and of availing himself of the aid of the Danish marine for the inva- sion of Great Britain 'and Ireland."* The incapacity of Denmark to resist, is appo- sitely and legitimately deduced from her own acknowledgment on a former occasion, when the danger was by no means so im- minent. How little, in fact, she was com- petent to her own defence, our recent operations have plainly demonstrated. The whole affair was thus reduced to this simple question: Whether we, positively knowing that Buonaparte had matured a scheme, to appropriate to his use, and to our an- noyance, the naval strength of Denmark, were not warranted in endeavouring to de- o feat this intention of his malevolent and destructive ambition ? If the Danes had been even strictly impartial in their neu- trality, no one could well have pretended to criminate us for an act in which our safety was so deeply concerned. But when we were in possession of pretty clear * See Declaration dated Westminster, Sept. 25 3 1807, 76 proofs that the French had been tamper- ing with the Danes, and that the Danes were, either from inclination or timidity, tifcposed to listen to their proposals, the Necessity of our interference became so urgent, that had our ministers remained inactive, they would have been guilty of treachery to the state, and would have justly merited the bitterest indignation of their country. There is, however, a wide interval between the different degrees of activity which may be exerted in cases of such extremity. Some might have been active to the utmost of their ability, and yet to very little purpose : but here was an activity which secured its object, an object which the French were at the same time seeking, and for which they had been long clandestinely making arrangements. As the circumstances which led to this determination of our cabinet are now un- folded, we can fairly pronounce judgment on its merits ; ana we must allow that it exhibits one of the most dexterous strokes of political address that was ever attempted. Whilst it is thus calculated to meet the 77 sterner views of the politician, it has also been managed in a manner to satisfy the most strenuous advocates for generous moderation. The mild and conciliating, yet manly sentiments which the declara- tion throughout displays, must indeed command the applause of all who feel a genuine attachment to the honour and in- o terests of their country. Now that Den- mark is at our feet, we do not trample upon her, like the Corsican despot : now that her capital is in our power, we do not deliver it up to military carnage and plun- der, like the revolutionary upstart of France. These are not dispensations con- sonant with the feelings of the monarch, or the government, or the people of Great Britain. A vanquished foe is with us a foe no longer. Having obtained our ob- ject,, in the acquisition of which our safety was materially involved, we go not a step farther ; but, on the contrary, we manifest every disposition to alleviate distress, to console affliction, to cultivate friendship, and to repair the breach which we have involuntarily, but unavoidably made. 78 The necessity of that decisive policy, which I have, in the foregoing pages, en- deavoured to recommend, becomes every day more cogent. Buonaparte pursues his plan of usurpation with accumulating power, and with unremitting zeal. To his inordinate ambition nothing can mi- nister repose. Neither truce nor peace can avert his design, or arrest his pro- gress. His determined aim is universal dominion : his means are open war, or secret intrigue, or treacherous negotiation, as they are best adapted to his nefarious purpose. When will the veil of delusion be torn from the eyes of continental coun- cils ? How long will mankind continue to be so obdurately blind to their approach- ing fate ? Buonaparte has at last com- pletely overreached the three once formi- dable continental states, Russia, Austria, and Prussia ; and now that he has strength- ened his position, and weakened theirs, he is again provoking a rupture. Cattaro and the Seven Islands have been ceded to him by Russia, by treaty ; Trieste and Fiume he has taken from Austria, by force ;* Prussia has lost half her territories, after an inglorious war. We thus find that Prussia is prostrate ; Austria is trem- bling for her safety ; and if Russia now renew hostilities, her capital may possibly be captured, and every province of her empire may become a prey to the horrors of revolutionary destruction. Let us pro- fit, whilst there is yet time, by these dread- ful examples ! Amidst the general wishes for the im- mediate adoption of the vigorous system, which I have ventured to recommend, there are a few dissentient persons, who urge, rather however boisterously than argu- mentatively, two objections ; the first, on the score of policy ; the second, on the score of morals. These objections are plausible, and, if they were valid, would be conclusive. But I think that I shall have little difficulty in demonstrating their total futility. * It does not seem certain that this event has yet taken place. If, however, it has not, I have only, I fancy, anticipated it by a few months. 80 When I insist on the necessity of put- ting an end to neutral traffic, I, of course, confine my remarks to that branch of it which contributes to the resources of our enemies : what benefits ourselves, it is ob- viously our policy, not only to tolerate, but to encourage and protect. In obedience to these principles, we should instantly abolish every kind of in- tercourse between France and her colonies, and also between those colonies and neu- tral states. This we are, inconteslably, authorized to do, without deviating, in the 7 o 7 slightest degree, from old established max- ims. The commerce which France did not permit to neutrals during peace, they can have no right nor pretension to engage in during war, even though France take off the restraint ; because, in that case, the consent of France is granted solely in consideration of the benefit which their intervention confers. In proportion, how- ever, as it aids her, it must injure us : we, consequently, are perfectly justified in ob- structing it. The rigorous exercise of this preventive 81. measure, by materially diminishing the supply of West India produce conveyed to Europe, would, in an inverse ratio, en- hance the value of that part of it which is the growth of our own islands. Such, in- deed, would be the increased demand on us for these requisite articles, in conse- quence of the great deduction from the general stock, that we might safely lay very heavy additional imposts on their exportation, which our enemies would be compelled to pay. Neutral vessels, in- stead of visiting; the colonies of hostile o , countries as heretofore, which, under these circumstances, would be attended with considerable risk, would find their account in coming in ballast to the ports of this kingdom, in quest of commodities, for 'which the principal markets of Europe will always insure a ready sale. We should pursue a similar plan of pro- hibition and controul with regard to the productions of the East ; nor should we suffer neutral vessels, of any description, to touch at any port in Bengal, or in any of our other settlements in that quarter, for the L 82 purposes of trade. And although we might still permit their free communication with China, as far as their own wants were con- cerned, yet we should, on no account, allow them to transport their cargoes frojn that country, or from any other, directly to Fiance, every haven of which empire Should be instantly declared in a state of rigorous blockade. Surely, when France has issued a declaration to that effect against us, there can be no question about our right to retaliate. Most of the articles which France receives from Russia and the other northern states, being naval stores, come under the denomination of contraband, according to the old definition, and are thus liable to confiscation. Rus- sia indeed, in particular, after the treaty of Tilsit, the most disgraceful that was ever signed by an independent govern- ment, in ancient or modern times, is not entitled to much favour from us. Were such regulations strictly and literally en- forced, our own merchants and manufac- turers would be speedily released from the heavy pressure of their present difficulties, and the public revenue would, at the same 83 time, be, in various ways, greatly assisted and improved. Whilst we were deriving these manifest O P and important advantages, what, with ail his power, could Buonaparte do to impede their course ? What could he even do, to extricate himself from such serious and in- creasing embarrassments? There are nu- merous articles of indispensable necessity, whether of direct consumption, or for the purpose of manufacture, which the soil of France and of her continental dependents does not afford. These they must still have, and as they couid only procure them through the medium of this country, both the value and the quantity would be go- verned by our discretion. It may be a fanciful, but it is a most preposterous hypothesis to suppose, that Buonaparte could enforce prohibitory edicts, or that he should even be disposed to enforce them, to debar from the u^ of these commodities tiie population of the countries over which he rules. Nor is it 84 likely that he would be inclined t6 in r crease those charges and difficulties, which \ve should take care to render sufficiently burdensome. Even at this moment, with all his vengeful disposition, what is neces- sary to France, and can only be procured from England, still rinds its way. In com- mercial undertakings, where there is much risk, there is generally a correspondent com- pensation; and when the desire of obtaining anything is very pressing, the ingenuity of mankind readily discovers a method of arriving at its end. Buonaparte's exten- sive coast, which is so beneficial to him in some points of view, is, in others, highly inconvenient, especially in those respects which regard the enforcement of oppres- sive non-importation laws. We know per- fectly well, from our own experience, that custom-house and excise officers are not among the most immaculate members of society, and, under such a government as that of France, without overstraining the powers of imagination, or being at all libel-* lously disposed, we may conceive, that 85 the contagion of their vices contaminates the conduct of their superiors.* But supposing Buonaparte's power and vigilance to be sufficient, totally to sup- press the importation of our colonial mer- chandize, and that his frantic vengeance should induce the full exertion of that power and vigilance, the consequences, reverberating on himself, would be felt with tenfold severity. How has France been hitherto enabled to uphold her fi- nances, but by the most arbitrary and vexatious exactions from her general po- pulation, and by the pillage of rich manu- facturing and commercial towns which have fallen under her sway, and which, if de- prived of the means of subsistence, would become a burden instead of a support ? How would she be able to iced those ma- nufactures which employ the industry of her own artizans, even with what is ne- * It is indeed notorious, that the salaries of the higher officers on these stations, which are omimilly very small, and are very irregularly paid, are chiefly made up from the perquisites of bribery and other wages ot corruption. 86 cessary for her interior consumption, with- out the raw materials from which they are made ? And if Buonaparte is to domineer over a ruined people, how is he to main- tain his numerous armies, and to defray those enormous expences which are inse- parable from the profligate luxury and tasteless profusion of usurped royalty ? I am aware that it will here be objected, that when I draw inferences from the sup- position of financial embarrassments, my premises are false ; and that long and fatal experience has completely exposed their fallibility. To this I reply, that if our previous calculations on this head have proved so deceptions, it is chiefly because we have failed to pursue that system which is most likely to produce the desired effect. France has hitherto been abun- dantly supplied with all her wants through the channel of neutrality, and on such easy terms, that they have come into the hands of the consumer at a cheaper price, than if she had maintained a protecting navy, and imported them in her own ship- ping. The rest of Europe, under her dominion, has been provided in the same way, and on the same conditions. But the moment we dissolve this illegal traffic, these advantages must cease, and this country must become the grand and ex- clusive emporium from which transmarine productions can be obtained. Our complete supremacy at sea fits- nishes us with other inexhaustible advan- tages, which we cannot be too active in ~ * employing as the most effectual security for their preservation. The vengeance which it enables us to inflict, should be exerted in every mode, and felt in every direction. To such a foe as Buonaparte we should allow no respite. The possession of the Danish fleet has, .at once, added a considerable numerical force to our navy, which we should hasten to convert to the most beneficial purposes. This acquisition has been, by a particular set of people, most ridiculously under- valued. The truth however is, that many of these ships are quite new, and, although not so elegant in their form as our own, they would, when manned by British sea- men, be able to keep tbe line, in an en- gagement, as well as any others. Some, which are not so fit for this service, might be made use of as transports, by which much time would be saved on any emergency when this description of vessels was wanted, and a considerable reduction in hire would be also effected. The third class, which would be least calculated for the open sea, might be fitted up in dif- ferent havens as floating barracks, on board of which from 10 to 15,000 soldiers might be constantly embarked. This body might be changed every two or three months, so that we should always have a force ready to undertake any sudden enterprize, and the whole of our army would, by degrees, be habituated to a sea- faring life. Under proper regulations, these barracks would be attended with less expence than those on shore, and might be rendered fully as healthy and convenient. Another object which, in my opinion, should never be absent from the contem- plation of our government, is the destruc- tion of Boulogne, and of every other har- 89 bour or fishing town which is exposed to our annoyance along the whole range of the French coast. Various reports have been circulated, about the flotilla at Bou- logne being in a decayed state. I have heard a very different account, and which, I am confident, approaches much nearer the truth. Nor is it to be supposed that Buonaparte, after having expended such an immense sum in their construction,, would suffer them to perish, by withhold- ing the trifling sum which would be requi- site to keep them in repair. But if they were even in a state of rottenness, I would still attack them in that state, because, if we can once prove to France and to this country that the bason of Boulogne, where the means of invasion must be chiefly assembled, is within our reach, that question, which with the increased power of Buonaparte must be viewed with increased anxiety by us, will be, in great measure, divested of its importance. And that this desirable object may be effected by the rockets, which have been so suc- cessfully used at Copenhagen, and to which the skill and ingenuity of Mr. Con^reve 90 have given so sure a direction and so as-* tonishing a range, I entertain very little doubt. / To the destruction of Boulogne, if we ~ * can accomplish it, consent would, I fancy, be unanimous. But when I talk of de^ stroying fishing-towns, I fear that I shall excite to instant insurrection the whole host of pseudo-philanthropists. What ! they exclaim, shall we pursue this ruthless system of extermination ? shall we renounce the finest sentiments of humanity ? shall we eternally disgrace ourselves by waging a predatory warfare with inoffensive fisher- men ? This would be all very just, if Europe were still divided, as it formerly was, into separate communities, acknow- leging the doctrines of the old code oi' public law. But we have now, unhappily, to ruminate over a new order of thing's, i_, * which, by a general convulsion of the elements of civilized government, has totally dismembered and dilapidated all the ancient forms, and has accumulated into one overwhelming mass all the hete- rogeneous properties of which they were 91 antecedently composed. We have to re- flect, that their various resources, thus consolidated, are at the entire disposal of one man, who is incessantly bent on em- ploying them in our destruction. We have further to consider, that this man is in possession of a line of coast which ex- tends from Memel to Brest, and from Brest to Cadiz ; which, in addition to this, comprehends nearly the complete circuit of the Mediterranean, the Adriatic, and the Archipelago. We also have to bear in mind, that seven or eight hundred miles of this coast run in a parallel direction with Great Britain, and that nearly as much more is most conveniently situated for the invasion of Ireland. When we have duly weighed these observations, let us next examine how many fishing-towns this length of coast contains ; and then let us calculate how many fishermen these towns may provide. Buonaparte's ships of war keep, for the present, to their harbours ; and the commercial ships of France have been, long since, driven from the seas. It is thus, in fishing boats alone, that his subject* can. have an opportunity 92 of exercising their skill, or of adding to their experience as sailors. And when we recollect what a hardy race fishermen usu- ally are, how adventurous in fronting dan- ger, and how expert in avoiding it, we must admit the policy of obliging them to recede from the coast, and to abandon their occupations. We know that Buo- naparte's most ardent wish is to rival us as a maritime power, by which alone he can ever hope to realize the schemes of his atrocious ambition. We know that, in this view, lie is building ships in every harbour which is adapted to the purpose ; and that the moment they are launched he can, by a despotic ordinance, compel every one of these fishermen to assist in their navigation. We are bound, there- fore, no longer to regard this race of people as inoffensive villagers, gaining a livelihood by their harmless industry, and furnishing with a cheap and wholesome food a beg- gared and famished population ; but as a valuable fund of intrepid warriors, who may one day be disputing with us the em- pire of the ocean. 93 Having thus discussed the policy of the measure, I shall now take into consider- ation the charge of immorality, which has been so gravely alleged against a departure from the ancient usages of the world. Instead, however, of admitting it to be a breach of morality, instead of bowing to any one of those objections waich have been started, I contend that it is one of our highest obligations, that it is one of our duties most consistent with the grand interests of humanity, and with the im- mutable principles of universal justice, so to act. If a man approach me with a declared determination to destroy me, am I to de- cline the use of a destructive weapon in my, defence, lest, by killing him, I should commit murder? When the interposition, of the lav,- can save me, it is, undoubted- ly, my duty to apply to it for protection ; but \vhen, by being pushed to extremities, there i< no time for its interference, I must take my cause into my own hands, and defend myself as well as I can. If this reasoning hold good m the case of an in- 94 dividual, it surely is infinitely stronger as it applies to the contemplation and direc- tion of national concerns. I hope that I feel for the cause of humanity as deeply, and lament its sufferings as sincerely, as any of those advocates who make such a */ womanish and ill-timed publication of their emotions. But I look to the welfare of nations more than to the misfortunes of individuals, and I am not to be deterred from the recommendation of a measure which I am convinced will contribute to the general advantage of my country, because it may occasion some few examples of par- ticular distress. When I have only to consider the insulated case of an indivi- dual, I am bound to do strict justice to that individual : but when I have to con- sider the case of the public, individuals, merely as individuals, must be banished from my thoughts. The whole super- structure of all wise and just government *J O must repose on this basis. The crimes of mankind require restraint, and, in the common concerns of life, it is frequently necessary, for the sake of ex- 95 ample, to inflict a severity of punishment which we should otherwise be most desir- ous to relax. If we cannot, in the ma- nagement of human affairs, act up to ideal perfection, we must approach as near to it as circumstances will admit. But, in our practice, circumstances must determine our conduct. However, therefore, we may be attached to the doctrines of public law ; however readily we may acknowlege their justice and utility ; yet, if we find our- selves engaged in a most perilous and des- perate contest, with an enemy who totally rejects their authority, it cannot be ex- pected that we should implicitly submit to their controul ; because, if we did, we should devote ourselves to inevitable de- struction. We may lament the departure, but we have no choice. With us it is a measure of uncontrollable necessity, and he who is the cause of it, is evidently re- sponsible for its consequences. If then our enemy refuse to recognise the long- established principles of national law, we, as opposed to him, are immediately re- leased from their observance. If this enemy compel other states to follow his 96 footsteps, we are also released, as opposed to those states. These are axioms which require no elucidation, and to which, the moment they are propounded, every one must assent. It is now necessary that we should consider the peculiar situation of neutrals. According to my conception, neutrality implies, that all nations, so denning themselves, are bound to act with strict impartiality towards belligerents; that is to say, are bound to conduct themselves towards the respective countries at war, exactly in the same manner as the} r did previously to war. Their rights cannot be extended by the unfortunate situation of the conflicting parties. If neutrals, therefore, had no riHit to tradf with the o Colonies of our enemies before hostilities commenced, that hostile state cannot, of itself, invest them with that. ri assumption to be in any way injurious to our interests, are warranted in prohibiting its exercise. This tvo are empowered to do, according to the old doctrines of nu~ 97 tional law, as they have long been recog- nised and practised by all maritime states, and as they are universally laid down by the most eminent publicists of modern times. Thus far we have, all along, been authorized to go. But if a new state of things arise, for which old regulations are ~ * o inefficient, we must ordain new regulations which are more applicable to the change of circumstances. This is the natural progress of all law. Before an aggression has been made, or an inconvenience felt, the process which may be necessary to prevent or controul it, is not likely to be denned. We should in vain search the statute-book for the punishment of a crime which has never been committed. Thus, when we find ourselves, in the relation which we bear to the rest of Eu- rope, placed in a situation which our his- tory never before exhibited, it is not to be expected that past occurrences should afford rules and precedents for the regu- lation of our present conduct. We must bend to existing circumstances, and be governed by their impulsive direction. 95 When, therefore, we perceive that we are engaged, in no ordinary war, with a pow- erful and perfidious foe, who conquers as much by the terror of his ordinances as by the force of his arms ; who, at the same time, conquers by diplomatic cor- ruption and intrigue, by secret imprison- ment, by torture, and assassination, as well as by open assault ; by the execution of his barbarous denunciations, as well as by the propagation of his infamous false-? hoods ; and whose chief aim in conquest, is to elevate himself on the pinnacle of human grandeur, that he may subject the whole earth to the dominion of his de- stroying sword ; that he may every where establish an unrelenting military despot- ism ; and that he may crumble into one {indistinguishable heap of rubbish the stately piles of political and civil liberty, and the venerable temples of moral and religious virtue ; it surely becomes in us a most sacred and indispensable duty to ward off, by any means with which God and nature have blessed us, the dreadful dispensations of such a destiny. If to avert such deplorable calamities old modes 99 be incompetent, we must adopt new modes* if gentle measures be inadequate, we must resort to rigorous measures: at all events, we must endeavour to avert them. Are we then, after so long an experi- ment of forbearance ; after ttie practice of the mildest moderation for fifteen years,, an over-scrupulous adherence to which has so infinitely strengthened the great adver- sary of human kind, to be fearful of resum- ing our rights ? Or should that resumption be insufficient, which under present cir-* cumstances I contend it would be, are we to hesitate about proceeding a few steps beyond those limits, which custom and law have already authorized, and within which, the moment the necessity ceased, we should be most happy to return ? Ought we to be deterred from this reasonable act of self- defence, because, forsooth, neutrals, who, for a protracted course of years, have been immoderately enriching themselves at our expence, would sustain some trifling addi- tional inconvenience ? We have long been fighting not only for ourselves, but for the freedom of Europe, and for the great inte- 100 rests of mankind all over the world. Our sacrifices to sustain other states have been far from inconsiderable; and if they had not basely deserted their own cause, and re- treated like dastards from the field, they would not, at this moment, be groaning under the ponderous chains of the meanest and most sanguinary despot that ever trampled on the pusillanimity of animate creation. And if these neutrals, whom, some insist, we should nurse with so much tender dotage, had possessed a sentiment of manly feeling, they would, long since, have ranged themselves under our sacred banners, and have cordially united with us in this holy warfare. Had they been ac- tuated by the nobler dispositions of our nature, they would, long since, have vo- luntarily foregone the sordid profits of their mercenary and mendacious contri- vances to elude and cheat us. But if they are so dead to the loftier sensations of hu- manity ; if they are so deaf to the pro- phetic invocations of honour and of glory, we must, at least, place them in a negative position. If they are not to be incited to duty, we must, at least, incapacitate them 101 from impeding our nobler and more gene- rous views. The losses and inconveniences to which they may be exposed, beyond what they would suffer from the exercise of our rights, according to ancient usage, cannot be very serious ; indeed, by the fa- cilities which it would be our interest to grant them in other ways, the balance might be more than restored : nor could o we, at all events, deprive them, in a long course of years, of a tythe of the profits which they have reaped from previous in- dulgence. But were their grievances an o o hundred times more extensive, such a dreadful necessity as the present existing, it would still be our most incontrovertible and imperative duty to persist. Let me, before I conclude, just put one plain ques- tion, by way of further illustration. If Buonaparte were to prevail over this country, can the most bigotted supporter of the system of effeminate moderation conceive, even during the wildest parox- isms of his fancy, that, in six months, there would be a neutral nation upon earth ? We are, therefore, contending for their existence as well as for our own, and 102 ultimately for their rights. We shall only be suspending regulations for the eventual preservation of the old order of things, the fall operation of which it would be our happiness and glory to reinstate, and. which, if we unfortunately fail, will be doomed to inevitable and irremediable ex- tinction. Much groundless clamour has been ex- cited against the government, in conse- quence of that part of the late proclama- tion* which disavows the right of search- ing national ships belonging to friendly powers, it having been imagined, that we have conceded an exclusive privilege, which maritime states had hitherto allowed us, and which we had long been in the ha- bit of exercising. This clamour has pro- ceeded from a natural and a laudable feel- ing, viz. from a jealousy of any dereliction of our naval rights. But the question has been totally misapprehended, which a very little explanation will shew. * See Proclamation, dated Queen's Palace, Oct. 16, 1807. It is an invariable, and universally ad- mitted maxim of public law, that, as long as nations continue at peace with each other, they are bound not only to refrain from aggression against their respective ~~ ~ L f territories, but to hold inviolable their re- spective flags, which are the representatives of their independence at sea. The distinc- tion between a ship of war and a merchant ship, is this, that a ship of war is a part of the sovereign power, and a merchant ship is not. They consequently have distinct offices and distinct rights : but they are in no shape, on an equality. The one carries within its precincts a component part of the sovereignty and independence of the state, to which the other can have no possible pretension. It is this property which authorizes the one to bring to, and exa- mine the other at pleasure, a right which is entirely derived from its character, not from its strength. If a vessel, bearing the flag of the state, be ever so small, holding a commission from the sovereign power of which that flag is the token, the deck from which it is displayed, is to be considered as independent of all foreign jurisdiction 104 and coiitroul as the territory of the state itself. No other ship can search her, or detain her, or even board her against her consent, without committing an open act of hostility, and as direct a violation of her rights, as if there had been an actual inva- sion of territorial dominion. If a dispute arise on any point whatever, a claim may no doubt be preferred, but it cannot be enforced, by an individual ; and, if not ami- cably adjusted, the ultimate decision must be referred to his government. In like o manner, if two friendly powers, whose do- minions are contiguous, have each a for- tress on their respective frontier, and part of the garrison desert from one post to the other, the commandant who has lost his men, may certainly demand their restora- tion ; but, should that be refused, he can have no right, of his own free will, to in- vest the fort, and to endeavour to recover them by force. His duty evidently is to transmit a representation of the injury to his government, and to abide by its direc- tions. If it were otherwise, it would be in the power of any individual to convert a trivial injury into an unpardonable of- 105 fence, and, whenever he thought lit, to in- volve his country in war. We have indeed, at different periods of our history, before the law of nations, as to maritime rights, was properly defined or understood, laid claim to various exclu- sive privileges, particularly in the time of Cromwell, and during one part of the reign of William III. In remoter times, when a great part of France was annexed to our empire, we assumed a despotic maritime sovereignty, which our power was gene- rally able to enforce, but which was found- ed on no principles of real justice, and which was regularly resisted by every na- tion which felt, and could maintain its in- dependence. It would far surpass the. bounds of a work of this kind, to go into the history of tiiis celebrated question. Among other pretensions however, that of searching national snips was contended for, and till the time of Charles II. it ac- tually formed a part of the instructions to- our naval commanders. But it was never acquiesced in by other powers, and it was. at length, found by us. to be so unjust in o 106 its principle, and so inconvenient in its practice, that it was tacitly renounced. Since that period it has never been reviv- ed, except in a few desultory instances, none of which have been authorized by the government.* So far as to the principle. With regard to the practice, if we reflect for a moment, we shall at once perceive its great hardship on others, and its trifling importance to ourselves. If we acknow- ledge the independence of neutrals, their public rights, generally speaking, must be placed on an equality with our own. Thus, if we insist on searching their national ships, we are bound to allow them the same privilege, unless there be some parti- cular motive, of a very cogent nature, for the refusal. Now with regard to the Ame- ricans, we, possessing an hundred ships of war for every one of that description in * This pretension, which was originally started in very old times, was first abandoned in 1077. About ten years afterwards, James if. attempted to revive it, but it was finally dropped by King William. Since then, which is now above a century ago, it has formed no part of the instructions to our navy, nor has it bee ever claimed bv anv solemn or recorded act. 107 their service, surely cannot plead any rea- son of sufficient weight to justify the ex- ception in our favour. And, if we allow the right to be reciprocal, the exercise of it would be considerably to our disadvan- tage, and would expose us to a very serious additional proportion of molestation. Be- sides, when we consider, how irritating and vexatious would be the demand on either side, how sensitive power is, and how easily provoked to resistance, we must be aware how frequently it might be at- tended with bloodshed. It is, therefore, no less consonant with interest than with reason, mutually to relinquish the claim. Even if it had been, on our part, an esta- blished right, we could now abandon it with credit, as, from the great disparity between the strength of this country and that of America, there could be no pos- sible chance of our incurring the reproach of timidity. From this spontaneous aban- donment of a claim, which we could not be justified in asserting, it must not, however, be inferred, that we have conceded any privilege to which we have a warrantable title. Our dispute with America, and the causes of that dispute, cannot be in the leas! affected by the agitation or settle- ment of an extraneous and accidental oc- currence. The question respecting our undoubted right to demand, and to re- cover British-born subjects in the employ of neutrals, is precisely where it was; nor do we admit of any pretension whatever, on their part, to seduce our seamen from their allegiance to their native land, or to O ' detain them, against our will, in their com- mercial or national service. But such con- duct being legitimate cause of war (should redress on application be denied) we very properly take the adjudication of the in- jury out of the hands of an individual, who, in all probability, would determine it according to the impulse of momentary feeling, and in whom, without the autho- rity of the {supreme powers of the state, it could never naturally nor legally vest, and i/ O */ we place it in the hands of the government, which is the sole tribunal competent to decide on questions of that momentous import. Nor let it be said, that I am arguing 109 against my own principles, in order to support the administration in a measure which seems to contradict them. My chief aim, in the foregoing pages, has been to demonstrate the absolute necessity of an immediate and rigorous resumption of our established rights ; and also, to point out what, in my opinion, under the pre- sent critical circumstances of the world, would be a justification of their extension. But whilst I recommend a vigour beyond the law, in cases in which that vigour is dic- tated by imperious necessity, I also recom- mend the observance of mildness and con- ciliation, when it is not likely to be attend- ed with prejudicial effects. In the case before us, that extreme necessity is far from apparent. In this instance, we re- cede from no ancient right, nor is it re- quisite that we should establish any new one. The right of searching merchant ships, which we always possessed, we still retain. The right of searching national ships, which we once claimed, but which was never recognized, and which the go- venment has, in point of practice, for above a century? abandoned, we have now, 110 in consequence of ah accidental circum- stance, which has revived its discussion, been induced formally to disclaim. Bri- tish seamen, harboured in American mer- chantmen, may be numerous, and them we can claim, and take by prescriptive and natural right, without risk of contest, and without committing any offence against / o national honour. Deserters, sheltered by American ships of war, must, from the pitiful weakness of the American navy, be few; and these we can also claim, in the expectation of their voluntary surrender. But, unless thus given up, we do not per- mit, on the summary requisition of an in- dividual, an attempt to recover them by force, which could not be executed with- out an open violation of the independence of the state to which she belongs, and con- sequently without incurring the risk of in- stant contention, and of eventual hostility between the two countries. The detri- ment, generally speaking, can be, surely, neither worthy of the immediate strife, nor of the ultimate haxanl ; and it is evidently becoming the dignity of all states, ac- O O * knowlcdged as independent, to refer casual Ill complaints, which involve essential inte- rests, to their respective governments,- by which alone they are likely to be investi- gated with sobriety, and settled according to their intrinsic merits.* * The right of claiming British subjects, who may have engaged in the service of neutrals, or have takea refuge on board their national ships, is perfectly clear and incontrovertible. Should a formal demand of their restoration be made, and rejected, there is indisputably fair cause for war against the offending party, and the government would be justified in instantly issuing in- structions to naval commanders to recover them by force. But until that order be given, no individual can be warranted in having recourse to violence. The proclamation is, therefore, under all points of view, correct. What our cabinet may ultimately think fit to do, must depend on the circumstances as they are laid before them. If the Americans insist on any right to detain our seamen in their service, it is evidently our business to go to war, to resist such a pretension ; be- cause then, it becomes a point of honour in the first in- stance independently of all injury, and, if once esta- blished as a principle, might, in an ulterior point of view, lead to very prejudicial consequences. If, how- ever, it be a case merely of an accidental nature, which this apparently is, it may, on both sides, be easily ex- plained and repaired. As the maritime strength of the world is at present disposed, it is more for our inter- est, if it can be done without any sacrifice of honour or right, to either of which. I am satisfied, the present 112 Thus, whilst the ready abandonment of all pretensions to search neutral ships of war evinces, on the part of our govern- ment, a rigid regard to impartial justice, when no countervailing duty interferes to impede. that inclination, it betrays no dis- position whatever to surrender ancient government will never submit, that it should be amica- bly settled. Our great object, after all, must be to put a complete end to all neutral commerce, which, either directly or indirectly, assists France. For this I have chiefly contended. And when we consider the inso- lent, unjust, and outrageous conduct of France towards this country, we are clearly justified in the adoption of any measures, whether authorized by custom or not, to invalidate her views. We have but one enemy to con- tend with, or to fear. That enemy seeks the accom- plishment of his purpose, which is our destruction, by Nov. 4, 1807- By the orders in Council, dated No- vember 11,* our Government has at length had recourse in part, to those just mea- sures of retaliation, which the unprovoked and insolent aggressions of our enemy have so long and so loudly called for. As far as these orders go,, they will, no doubt, be found serviceable, both in assisting our- * o selves and in distressing France ; but I cannot help lamenting that they have not gone further. All commerce with the co- lonies of our enemies, except perhaps such as was permitted by France previously to the commencement of the present war, should have been strictly prohibited, nor should * See the Supplement to the London Gazette, dated? November 16 r 1807. any article, under any pretence whatever,, have been suffered to be transported from those settlements toEurope. Neutral states being allowed, by the present regulations, to keep up an unrestrained intercourse with the colonies of our enemies, and to bring the produce of them directly to Great Britain or to the countries to which their vessels belong, will easily contrive to convey a considerable part of it to hostile ports. They have already shewn the fertility of their skill at deception, and, whenever they meet with our cruizers, they will still have their false certificates to produce. Trieste and Fiume, if they are to be regarded as neutral ports, are so contiguous to the chief harbours of the Adriatic, that it will be difficult to ascertain the real destination of ships steering in that di- rection, and the short distance of our own coast from that of France and Hol- land must expose us, in a far more serious degree^ to the same inconvenience. The risk, and with the risk the expence of neu- tral aid, will, no doubt, be greatly increas- ed to our enemies, but I fear that they 118 will still reap from it considerable advarH tages. This measure of our government is, however, for the present, avowedly ex* perimental ; and unless found sufficient- ly effective, materially to impede and cir- cumscribe the illicit traffic against which it is directed, a more rigorous mode will, in all likelihood, be resorted to. Yet, after the inconvenience and prejudice which we have already experienced from our indulgence, I cannot understand the policy of hesitating about the full re- sumption of our rights, by literally con- fining the intercourse of neutrals to those regulations which were prescribed by France and her dependents, whilst they remained at peace. In this instance, there- fore, we continue to shew an ill-judged lenity, and to concede incontrovertible claims. The only particular in which, by these orders, we depart from established custom, is in declaring France subject to the re- strictions of blockade, without actually keeping up a blockading squadron, and 119 by such declaration, rendering every neu- tral ship, which attempts to enter a French port, unless' she have a clearance from this country, liable to capture. But this we are evidently justified in doing, not only in consequence of Buonaparte's orders to a similar effect against the British empire ; but in consequence of the readiness with which neutrals have obeyed it. The effect, indeed, which has been given to his de- cree, is entirely attributable to their ac- quiescence. Without their assistance, it would have been a mere verbal nullity ; for, destitute as France is of naval vigour, she o could in no shape have rendered it effi- cacious. With their assistance, however, it has been converted into a most serious grievance. The mere declaration of Buo- naparte, that this country was in a state of blockade, whilst at the same time he dared not send a single ship to sea to attempt to enforce it, as long as he continued desti- o tute of extraneous aid, could be regarded as nothing more than a piece of empty and nonsensical bombast, by its complete impotency, exposing its author to ridiqule 120 and contempt. But when the context comes to be taken into consideration, which subjects to confiscation, not only all British property discovered on board neutral ships, but even all ships and car- goes, of whatsoever nation, if they have visited a British port, a substance and consequence are imparted to the decree, which, through the contravention of neutral rights, strikes at the very vitality of our foreign trade. From their acquiescence, therefore, Buonaparte's regulations derive all their importance. At first view, it seems quite incompre- hensible, how neutral states could be brought to a compliance with such an outrageous violation of their most obvious privileges. To resist an innovation, by which the leading principles of neutrality were completely subverted, was surely a conduct to be expected from those who, whenever Great Britain has been con- cerned, have shewn the most stubborn and sensitive jealousy of their maritime im- munities. But our relations with them happened to be on a very different foot- 121 ing. By yielding to us, nothing was to be gained. We had a commercial ship* o * ping to carry on our own trade, and a warlike navy to protect it. France had neither. She consequently required the assistance of neutrals to bring home the produce of her transmarine possessions. The proposal was readily agreed to, and the connexion having been properly me- thodized, the parties have derived from it a mutual benefit. The Americans in par- ticular, who had secured the largest share, had most accurately ascertained its value. By yielding, therefore, to France, they knew that they had much to preserve, and, setting honour entirely out of sight, the great balance of profit in their favour easily reconciled .them to a metaphysical forfeiture, especially as this country, which they have always regarded with envy and hatred, was chiefly exposed to its substan- tial operation. They only had the disgrace, which, from their insensibility to character, they considered as nothing ; but we had the pecuniary loss which, from their at- tachment to lucre, they considered as every thing,, 122 This grovelling conduct on the part of America, which IM a nation of mere traders, may be easily accounted for, when the ex- tent is stated to which she has carried on this injurious traffic. Shortly after the renewal of the war, in 1803, the French government, in consequence of our decided naval superiority, perceiving the utter im- possibility of bringing home, under the protection of the national flag, its colo- nial produce* made over to America the >yhole of its commercial marine, on con- dition that it should be restored, at a valuation, within twelve months after the conclusion of the war.* These ships,, though strictly belonging to France, have been since suffered to navigate under American colours, and have been the principal carriers of the colonial produce of our enemies to the mother countries. We may form a judgment of the extent to which this trade has been pushed, when * See Mr. Lowe's Inquiry into the State of the Bri- tish West Indies, in -which he cites the evidence of Mr. Wilson, before the West India committee, in July, , page 118. 1*3 the Americans themselves acknowledge, that the amount of their foreign exporta- tion* (which with the exception of a few European and East India goods, are al- most entirely the produce of the colo- nies of our enemies) annually surpasses 14,000,000 /. ster.* From other documents it appears, that in the year 1806, no less than 211 sail of American vessels entered the port of Amsterdam alone, where they unloaded, besides other articles to a con- siderable amount, 45,000 hogsheads of su- gar, and 34,000 hogsheads of coffee. We have further to consider, that the whole of this property is conveyed to our ene- mies' ports at a peace freight and in- surance, whilst we are paying a war freight and insurance for every similar article which we receive, making a dif- ference against ourselves of at least 20 per cent. The mystery respecting the conduct of the Americans, is thus completely unra- velled. Having no objection to barter na<- * Se New York Gazette, dated March 13th, 1807. 124 tional honour for commercial profit, they receive the full price of their submission. Such an example however, can never be thought worthy of our imitation, nor can any one pretend to assert that their acqui- escence should be the forerunner of ours. If they basely chuse to relinquish the claims of their own independence, we must at least take care, as far as we are involved in the consequences, to provide a reme- dy. If they are the chief instruments of mischief, it is surely no more than fair that they should sustain some part of the penalty. What is due to Buonaparte's insolence, is no less due to their pu- sillanimity. Had they, in the outset, manfully opposed the invasion of their rights, we should have supported them in the contest ; but influenced as they have been in their determination by the selfish motives of interest and fear, it becomes our business to point out their error, by shewing them that a nation can never depart with safety from the principles of honour and justice ; and by convincing them, that if Buonapar- 125 te's power can procure them a tempo- rary advantage, our power can inflict on them a lasting injury. Scarcely was the ink dry with which I had written the above, when intelligence arrived of the fresh events which are un- folding themselves on the theatre of conti- nental politics, of which Buonaparte is at length declared the sole and supreme ma- nager. His associates will not, however, I imagine, have much reason to congratulate themselves on the appointment to which they have subscribed, as his patent is dur- ing life, and as from the specimen which he has already given of his disposition, he is not likely to arrange the drama to the satisfaction of the spectators, nor to ma- nage the fund for the general advantage of the concern. By some fatality, every re- presentation under his direction is stripped of attraction. Comedy is without grace, tragedy without dignity, and farce without humour. These are, indeed, wonder- working times in which we live. The C7 sphere of human action is retrograde, and the nature of man reversed. Base- ness and humiliation of sentiment are be- come concomitants of elevated rank ; an persevering, every thing may be gained. Can we then hesitate about the choice ? If it be an awful, it is also a sublime and majestic spectacle to contemplate the progress of our fortune and our fame : to observe this little but illustrious island. 131 expanding in greatness, as its difficulties multiply ; to observe it forming a soli- tary exception in the midst of general depravity, and deriving additional splen- dour from the obscurity by which it is surrounded ; to observe it, whilst as- sailed by a host of confederate nations, calmly surveying the storm, and indig- nantly defying the utmost efforts of its fury. Let us, then, banish, not only from our expectations, but from our wishes, all thoughts of peace with Buonaparte. Whilst, indeed, there is a particle of masculine vigour about us ; whilst there is a spark of generosity, of candour, or of justice unextinguished in our breasts ; whilst we retain the faintest attachment to our religion or our laws, to our p /so- nal freedom or our political independence ; whilst, in fine, there is adrop of genuine Bri- tish blood flowing in our veins ; we must abhor an act that has the semblance of reconciliation with a monster, who has paved his way to power by the commis- sion of every crime which can stain the 132 human character ; who, as he has ad- vanced in the career of fortune^ has re- ceded from the standard of virtue ; and who, in proportion as he has ascended in the climax of rank, has plunged more deeply into the abyss of wickedness. London JV "ovcmber 25, 1806, THE END. 8 2 T.Gillet, printer, Wild-cwurt. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY This book is DUE on the last date stamped below J R JAN 5 JAN 5 195$ | NOV 7 rO'D LD-URB QCT241983 983 OJOYERSm Or CALTFOBttifc. AT LOS ANGELES DS09 C86 The crisis. 5 8 00898 8601 A 001 435169 6 D309 C86