Mar 29, 2008

On the Condition of England

WE sit here as the great council of the king, and, in that capacity it is our duty to take into consideration the state and affairs of the kingdom; and, where there is occasion, to give them in a true representation by way of council and advice, what we conceive necessary or expedient for them.

Sir John Eliot (1592–1632)

(1628)

Born in 1592, died in 1632; became in 1625 an Opposition orator in the first parliament of Charles I.; imprisoned in 1626, by order of the king, but released when parliament refused to proceed without him; took a leading part in drafting the Petition of Right in 1628; arrested in 1629 and sent to the Tower, where he died.



WE sit here as the great council of the king, and, in that capacity it is our duty to take into consideration the state and affairs of the kingdom; and, where there is occasion, to give them in a true representation by way of council and advice, what we conceive necessary or expedient for them.

In this consideration, I confess, many a sad thought has frighted me: and that not only in respect of our dangers from abroad, which yet I know are great, as they have been often in this place prest and dilated to us; but in respect of our disorders here at home, which do enforce those dangers, as by them they were occasioned.

For I believe I shall make it clear to you, that as at first the causes of those dangers were our disorders, our disorders still remain our greatest dangers. It is not now so much the potency of our enemies, as the weakness of ourselves, that threatens us; and that saying of the Father may be assumed by us, Non tam potentia sua quam negligentia nostra. Our want of true devotion to Heaven, our insincerity and doubling in religion, our want of councils, our precipitate actions, the insufficiency or unfaithfulness of our generals abroad, the ignorance or corruption of our ministers at home, the impoverishing of the sovereign, the oppression and depression of the subject, the exhausting of our treasures, the waste of our provisions, consumption of our ships, destruction of our men—these make the advantage to our enemies, not the reputation of their arms. And if in these there be not reformation, we need no foes abroad! Time itself will ruin us.

You will all hold it necessary that what I am about to urge seem not an aspersion on the state or imputation on the government, as I have known such mentions misinterpreted. Far is it from me to purpose this, that have none but clear thoughts of the excellency of his majesty, nor can have other ends but the advancement of his glory.

For the first, then, our insincerity and doubting in religion, the greatest and most dangerous disorder of all others, which has never been unpunished, and for which we have so many strange examples of all states and in all times to awe us,—what testimony does it want? Will you have authority of books? Look on the collections of the committee for religion; there is too clear an evidence. Will you have records? See then the commission procured for composition with the papists in the North? Note the proceedings thereupon. You will find them to little less amounting than a toleration in effect, though upon some slight payments; and the easiness in them will likewise show the favor that is intended. Will you have proofs of men? Witness the hopes, witness the presumptions, witness the reports of all the papists generally. Observe the dispositions of commands, the trust of officers, the confidence of secrecies of employments, in this kingdom, in Ireland, and elsewhere. They will all show it has too great a certainty. And to these add but the introconvertible evidence of that all-powerful hand which we have felt so sorely, to give it full assurance! For as the Heavens oppose themselves to us, it was our impieties that first opposed the Heavens.

For the second, our want of councils, that great disorder in a State with which there can not be stability, if effects may show their causes, as they are often a perfect demonstration of them, our misfortunes, our disasters, serve to prove it! And (if reason be allowed in this dark age, by the judgment of dependencies, the foresight of contingencies, in affairs) the consequences they draw with them confirm it. For, if we view ourselves at home, are we in strength, are we in reputation, equal to our ancestors? If we view ourselves abroad, are our friends as many, are our enemies no more? Do our friends retain their safety and possessions? Do our enemies enlarge themselves, and gain from them and us? What council, to the loss of the Palatinate, sacrificed both our honor and our men sent thither, stopping those greater powers appointed for that service, by which it might have been defensible? What council gave directions to that late action whose wounds lie yet a bleeding. I mean the expedition unto Rhée, (Note: A reference to Buckingham’s disastrous expedition during the siege of La Rochelle.) of which there is yet so sad a memory in all men! What design for us, or advantage to our State, could that work import? You know the wisdom of our ancestors, the practice of their times; and how they preserved their safeties! We all know, and have as much cause to doubt as they had, the greatness and ambition of that kingdom, which the Old World could not satisfy! Against this greatness and ambition we likewise know the proceedings of that princess, that never to be forgotten excellence, Queen Elizabeth; whose name, without admiration, falls not into mention with her enemies. You know how she advanced herself, how she advanced this kingdom, how she advanced this nation, in glory and in State; how she depressed her enemies, how she upheld her friends; how she enjoyed a full security, and made them then our scorn, who now are made our terror!

Some of the principles she built on, were these; and if I be mistaken, let reason and our statesmen contradict me:

First, to maintain, in what she might, a unity in France, that that kingdom, being at peace within itself, might be a bulwark to keep back the power of Spain by land.

Next, to preserve an amity and league between that State and us; that so we might join in aid of the Low Countries, and by that means receive their help and ships by sea.

Then, that this treble cord, so wrought between France, the States, and us, might enable us, as occasion should require, to give assistance unto others; by which means, the experience of that time doth tell us, we were not only free from those fears that now possess and trouble us, but then our names were fearful to our enemies. See now what correspondence our action hath had with this.

Square it by these rules. It did induce as a necessary consequence the division in France between the Protestants and their king, of which there is too woeful, too lamentable an experience. It has made an absolute breach between that State and us; and so entertains us against France, France in preparation against us, that we have nothing to promise to our neighbors, hardly for ourselves. Nay, but observe the time in which it was attempted, and you shall find it not only varying from those principles, but directly contrary and opposite ex diametro to those ends; and such as from the issue and success rather might be thought a conception of Spain than begotten here with us. (Note: Buckingham’s intrigues with Spain are here referred to. Eliot’s remark produced a sensation at the time, but the outcome of it showed that he had his listeners in a majority with him.)

Mr. Speaker, I am sorry for this interruption, but much more sorry if there have been occasion; wherein, as I shall submit myself wholly to your judgment to receive what censure you shall give me if I have offended, so in the integrity of my intentions, and clearness of my thoughts, I must still retain this confidence, that no greatness may deter me from the duties which I owe to the service of the country, the service of the king. With a true English heart, I shall discharge myself as faithfully and as really, to the extent of my poor powers, as any man whose honors or whose offices most strictly have obliged him.

You know the dangers Denmark was then in, and how much they concerned us; what in respect of our alliance with that country, what in the importance of the Sound; what an acquisition to our enemies the gain thereof would be, what loss, what prejudice to us! By this division, we, breaking upon France, France being engaged by us, and the Netherlands at amazement between both, neither could intend to aid that luckless king whose loss is our disaster.

Can those now, that express their troubles at the hearing of these things, and have so often told us in this place of their knowledge in the conjunctures and disjunctures of affairs, say they advised in this? Was this an act of council, Mr. Speaker? I have more charity than to think it; and unless they make a confession of themselves, I can not believe it.

What shall I say? I wish there were not cause to mention it; and, but out of apprehension of the danger that is to come if the like choice hereafter be not now prevented, I could willingly be silent. But my duty to my sovereign and to the service of this House, the safety and the honor of my country, are above all respects; and what so nearly trenches to the prejudice of these, may not, shall not, be forborne.

For the next undertaking, at Rhée, I will not trouble you much; only this in short: Was not that whole action carried against the judgment and opinions of the officers—those that were of council? Was not the first, was not the last, was not all, in the landing, in the entrenching, in the continuance there, in the assault, in the retreat? Did any advice take place of such as were of the council? If there should be a particular disquisition thereof, these things would be manifest, and more. I will not instance now the manifestation that was made for the reason of these arms; nor by whom, nor in what manner, nor on what grounds it was published; nor what effects it has wrought, drawing, as you know, almost all the whole world into league against us! Nor will I mention the leaving of the mines, the leaving of the salt, which were in our possession, and of a value, as it is said, to have answered much of our expense. Nor that great wonder, which nor Alexander nor Cæsar ever did, the enriching of the enemy by courtesies when the soldiers wanted help! Nor the private intercourses and parlies with the fort, which continually were held. What they intended may be read in the success, and upon due examination thereof they would not want the proofs. For the last voyage to Rochelle, there needs no observation; it is so fresh in memory. Nor will I make an inference or corollary on all. Your own knowledge shall judge what truth, or what sufficiency they express.

For the next, the ignorance or corruption of our ministers, where can you miss of instances? If you survey the court, if you survey the country, if the church, if the city be examined; if you observe the bar, if the bench; if the courts, if the shipping; if the land, if the seas—all these will render you variety of proofs. And in such measure and proportion as shows the greatness of our sickness, that if it have not some speedy application for remedy, our case is most desperate.

Mr. Speaker, I fear I have been too long in these particulars that are past, and am unwilling to offend you; therefore in the rest I shall be shorter. And in that which concerns the impoverishing the king, no other arguments will I use than such as all men grant.

The exchequer you know is empty, the reputation thereof gone! The ancient lands are sold, the jewels pawned, the plate engaged, the debt still great, and almost all charges, both ordinary and extraordinary, borne by projects! What poverty can be greater? What necessity so great? What perfect English heart is not almost dissolved into sorrow for the truth?

For the oppression of the subject, which, as I remember, is the next particular I proposed, it needs no demonstration. The whole kingdom is a proof. And for the exhausting of our treasures, that oppression speaks it. What waste of our provisions, what consumption of our ships, what destruction of our men, have been,—witness the journey to Algiers! (Note: An expedition in which more than thirty English ships were destroyed and their crews made slaves.) Witness that with Mansfield! Witness that to Cadiz! Witness the next! Witness that to Rhée! Witness the last! (And I pray God we may never have more such witnesses.) Witness likewise the Palatinate! Witness Denmark! Witness the Turks! Witness the Dunkirkers! Witness all! What losses we have sustained! How we are impaired in munition, in ships, in men! It has no contradiction! We were never so much weakened, nor had less hope how to be restored!

These, Mr. Speaker, are our dangers; these are they do threaten us, and are like that Trojan horse brought in cunningly to surprise us! For in these do lurk the strongest of our enemies ready to issue on us; and if we do not now the more speedily expel them, these will be the sign and invitation to the others. They will prepare such entrance that we shall have no means left of refuge or defense; for if we have these enemies at home, how can we strive with those that are abroad? But if we be free from these, no others can impeach us! Our ancient English virtue, that old Spartan valor, cleared from these disorders; being in sincerity of religion once made friends with Heaven; having maturity of councils, sufficiency of generals, incorruption of officers, opulency in the king, liberty in the people, repletion in treasures, restitution of provisions, reparation of ships, preservation of men—our ancient English virtue, I say thus rectified, will secure us.

But unless there be a speedy reformation in these, I know not what hope or expectation we may have.

These things, sir, I shall desire to have taken into consideration. That as we are the great council of the kingdom, and have the apprehension of these dangers, we may truly represent them to the king; wherein I conceive we are bound by a treble obligation of duty unto God, of duty to his majesty, and of duty to our country.

And therefore I wish it may so stand with the wisdom and judgment of the house, that they may be drawn into the body of a Remonstrance, and there with all humility expressed; with a prayer unto his majesty, that for the safety of himself, for the safety of the kingdom, for the safety of religion, he will be pleased to give us time to make perfect inquisition thereof; or to take them into his own wisdom and there give them such timely reformation as the necessity of the cause, and his justice do import. And thus, sir, with a large affection and loyalty to his majesty, and with a firm duty and service to my country, I have suddenly, and it may be with some disorder, expressed the weak apprehensions I have, wherein if I have erred, I humbly crave your pardon, and so submit it to the censure of the House.

Note: Delivered in the House of Commons, June 3, 1628. Corrected by Eliot himself while imprisoned in the Tower for the third time. Here abridged and printed by permission of Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co.
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Mar 28, 2008

On Affairs in America

I RISE, my lords, to declare my sentiments on this most solemn and serious subject. It has imposed a load upon my mind, which, I fear, nothing can remove, but which impels me to endeavor its alleviation, by a free and unreserved communication of my sentiments.

In the first part of the address, I have the honor of heartily concurring with the noble earl who moved it. No man feels sincerer joy than I do; none can offer more genuine congratulations on every accession of strength to the Protestant succession. I therefore join in every congratulation on the birth of another princess, and the happy recovery of her majesty.

William Pitt, Earl of Chatham (1708–78)

(1777)

Born in 1708, died in 1778; entered Parliament in 1735; attacked the Government in 1755, and removed from office; Secretary of State in 1756–1757; again Secretary of State in the Coalition Ministry of 1757–1761, when he adopted vigorous measures in the Seven Years’ War; Prime Minister in 1766; resigned on account of ill health in 1768; made his last appearance in Parliament in 1778.



I RISE, my lords, to declare my sentiments on this most solemn and serious subject. It has imposed a load upon my mind, which, I fear, nothing can remove, but which impels me to endeavor its alleviation, by a free and unreserved communication of my sentiments.

In the first part of the address, I have the honor of heartily concurring with the noble earl who moved it. No man feels sincerer joy than I do; none can offer more genuine congratulations on every accession of strength to the Protestant succession. I therefore join in every congratulation on the birth of another princess, and the happy recovery of her majesty.

But I must stop here. My courtly complaisance will carry me no farther. I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. I can not concur in a blind and servile address, which approves and endeavors to sanctify the monstrous measures which have heaped disgrace and misfortune upon us. This, my lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment! It is not a time for adulation. The smoothness of flattery can not now avail—can not save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the Throne in the language of truth. We must dispel the illusion and the darkness which envelop it, and display, in its full danger and true colors, the ruin that is brought to our doors.

This, my lords, is our duty. It is the proper function of this noble assembly, sitting, as we do, upon our honors in this House, the hereditary council of the Crown. Who is the minister—where is the minister, that has dared to suggest to the Throne the contrary, unconstitutional language this day delivered from it? The accustomed language from the Throne has been application to Parliament for advice, and a reliance on its constitutional advice and assistance. As it is the right of Parliament to give, so it is the duty of the Crown to ask it. But on this day, and in this extreme momentous exigency, no reliance is reposed on our constitutional counsels! no advice is asked from the sober and enlightened care of Parliament! but the Crown, from itself and by itself, declares an unalterable determination to pursue measures—and what measures, my lords. The measures that have produced the imminent perils that threaten us; the measures that have brought ruin to our doors.

Can the minister of the day now presume to expect a continuance of support in this ruinous infatuation? Can Parliament be so dead to its dignity and its duty as to be thus deluded into the loss of the one and the violation of the other? To give an unlimited credit and support for the steady perseverance in measures not proposed for our parliamentary advice, but dictated and forced upon us—in measures, I say, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire to ruin and contempt! “But yesterday, and England might have stood against the world: now none so poor to do her reverence.” (Note: News had just reached England of the defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga.) I use the words of a poet; but, though it be poetry, it is no fiction. It is a shameful truth, that not only the power and strength of this country are wasting away and expiring, but her well-earned glories, her true honor, and substantial dignity are sacrificed.

France, my lords, has insulted you; she has encouraged and sustained America; and, whether America be wrong or right, the dignity of this country ought to spurn at the officious insult of French interference. The ministers and ambassadors of those who are called rebels and enemies are in Paris; (Note: Franklin, Dean, and Lee are here referred to.) in Paris they transact the reciprocal interests of America and France. Can there be a more mortifying insult? Can even our ministers sustain a more humiliating disgrace? Do they dare to resent it? Do they presume even to hint a vindication of their honor, and the dignity of the State, by requiring the dismission of the plenipotentiaries of America? Such is the degradation to which they have reduced the glories of England! The people whom they affect to call contemptible rebels, but whose growing power has at last obtained the name of enemies; the people with whom they have engaged this country in war, and against whom they now command our implicit support in every measure of desperate hostility—this people, despised as rebels, or acknowledged as enemies, are abetted against you, supplied with every military store, their interests consulted, and their ambassadors entertained, by your inveterate enemy!—and our ministers dare not interpose with dignity or effect. Is this the honor of a great kingdom? Is this the indignant spirit of England, who “but yesterday” gave law to the house of Bourbon?

My lords, the dignity of nations demands a decisive conduct in a situation like this. Even when the greatest prince that perhaps this country ever saw filled our Throne, the requisition of a Spanish general, on a similar subject, was attended to and complied with; for, on the spirited remonstrance of the Duke of Alva, Elizabeth found herself obliged to deny the Flemish exiles all countenance, support, or even entrance into her dominions, and the Count Le Marque, with his few desperate followers, were expelled from the kingdom. Happening to arrive at the Brille, and finding it weak in defense, they made themselves masters of the place; and this was the foundation of the United Provinces.

My lords, this ruinous and ignominious situation, where we can not act with success, nor suffer with honor, calls upon us to remonstrate in the strongest and loudest language of truth, to rescue the ear of majesty from the delusions which surround it. The desperate state of our arms abroad is in part known. No man thinks more highly of them than I do. I love and honor the English troops. I know their virtues and their valor. I know they can achieve any thing except impossibilities; and I know that the conquest of English America is an impossibility. You can not, I venture to say it, you can not conquer America. Your armies in the last war effected every thing that could be effected; and what was it? It cost a numerous army, under the command of a most able general [Lord Amherst], now a noble lord in this House, a long and laborious campaign, to expel five thousand Frenchmen from French America. My lords, you can not conquer America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst; but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing and suffered much. Besides the sufferings, perhaps total loss of the Northern force, the best appointed army that ever took the field, commanded by Sir William Howe, has retired from the American lines. (Note: In the Burgoyne campaign General Howe, who had been expected to proceed up the Hudson from New York City and join Burgoyne near Albany, went instead to Philadelphia. Through a blunder made in London, he had failed to receive his instructions to join Burgoyne.) He was obliged to relinquish his attempt, and with great delay and danger to adopt a new and distant plan of operations. We shall soon know, and in any event have reason to lament, what may have happened since.

As to conquest, therefore, my lords, I repeat, it is impossible. You may swell every expense and every effort still more extravagantly; pile and accumulate every assistance you can buy or borrow; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign prince; your efforts are for ever vain and impotent—doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your enemies, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty! If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms—never—never—never.

Your own army is infected with the contagion of these illiberal allies. The spirit of plunder and of rapine is gone forth among them. I know it; and, notwithstanding what the noble earl [Lord Percy] who moved the address has given as his opinion of the American army, I know from authentic information, and the most experienced officers, that our discipline is deeply wounded. While this is notoriously our sinking situation, America grows and flourishes; while our strength and discipline are lowered, hers are rising and improving.

But, my lords, who is the man (Note: Lord George Germaine, of the ministry, is here referred to. See in volume eight of these orations the speeches made to him in London by Joseph Brant in 1776.) that, in addition to these disgraces and mischiefs of our army, has dared to authorize and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage; to call into civilized alliance the wild and inhuman savage of the woods; to delegate to the merciless Indian the defense of disputed rights, and to wage the horrors of his barbarous war against our brethren? (Note: Burgoyne came down from Canada with Indians in his service, and St. Leger came from Lake Ontario with others. At the battle of Oriskany Indians were prominent under Joseph Brant. From that time dates the period of border wars on the frontier of New York.) My lords, these enormities cry aloud for redress and punishment Unless thoroughly done away, it will be a stain on the national character. It is a violation of the Constitution. I believe it is against law.

It is not the least of our national misfortunes that the strength and character of our army are thus impaired. Infected with the mercenary spirit of robbery and rapine; familiarized to the horrid scenes of savage cruelty, it can no longer boast of the noble and generous principles which dignify a soldier; no longer sympathize with the dignity of the royal banner, nor feel the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war, “that make ambition virtue!” What makes ambition virtue? The sense of honor. But is the sense of honor consistent with a spirit of plunder, or the practice of murder? Can it flow from mercenary motives, or can it prompt to cruel deeds? Besides these murderers and plunderers, let me ask our ministers, What other allies have they acquired? What other powers have they associated in their cause? Have they entered into alliance with the king of the gipsies? Nothing, my lords, is too low or too ludicrous to be consistent with their counsels.

The independent views of America have been stated and asserted as the foundation of this address. My lords, no man wishes for the due dependence of America on this country more than I do. To preserve it, and not confirm that state of independence into which your measures hitherto have driven them, is the object which we ought to unite in attaining. The Americans, contending for their rights against arbitrary exactions, I love and admire. It is the struggle of free and virtuous patriots. But, contending for independency and total disconnection from England, as an Englishman. I can not wish them success; for in a due constitutional dependency, including the ancient supremacy of this country in regulating their commerce and navigation, consists the mutual happiness and prosperity both of England and America. She derived assistance and protection from us; and we reaped from her the most important advantages. She was, indeed, the fountain of our wealth, the nerve of our strength, the nursery and basis of our naval power. It is our duty, therefore, my lords, if we wish to save our country, most seriously to endeavor the recovery of these most beneficial subjects; and in this perilous crisis, perhaps the present moment may be the only one in which we can hope for success.

For in their negotiations with France, they have, or think they have, reason to complain; though it be notorious that they have received from that power important supplies and assistance of various kinds, yet it is certain they expected it in a more decisive and immediate degree. America is in ill humor with France; on some points they have not entirely answered her expectations.

Let us wisely take advantage of every possible moment of reconciliation. Besides, the natural disposition of America herself still leans toward England, to the old habits of connection and mutual interest that united both countries. This was the established sentiment of all the Continent; and still, my lords, in the great and principal part, the sound part of America, this wise and affectionate disposition prevails. And there is a very considerable part of America yet sound—the middle and the southern provinces. Some parts may be factious and blind to their true interests; but if we express a wise and benevolent disposition to communicate with them, those immutable rights of nature and those constitutional liberties to which they are equally entitled with ourselves, by a conduct so just and humane we shall confirm the favorable and conciliate the adverse.

I say, my lords, the rights and liberties to which they are equally entitled with ourselves, but no more. I would participate to them every enjoyment and freedom which the colonizing subjects of a free state can possess, or wish to possess; and I do not see why they should not enjoy every fundamental right in their property, and every original substantial liberty, which Devonshire, or Surrey, or the county I live in, or any other county in England, can claim; reserving always, as the sacred right of the mother country, the due constitutional dependency of the colonies. The inherent supremacy of the state in regulating and protecting the navigation and commerce of all her subjects, is necessary for the mutual benefit and preservation of every part, to constitute and preserve the prosperous arrangement of the whole empire.

The sound parts of America, of which I have spoken, must be sensible of these great truths and of their real interests. America is not in that state of desperate and contemptible rebellion which this country has been deluded to believe. It is not a wild and lawless banditti, who, having nothing to lose, might hope to snatch something from public convulsions. Many of their leaders and great men have a great stake in this great contest. The gentleman who conducts their armies, I am told, has an estate of four or five thousand pounds a year; and when I consider these things, I can not but lament the inconsiderate violence of our penal acts, our declaration of treason and rebellion, with all the fatal effects of attainder and confiscation.

As to the disposition of foreign powers which is asserted to be pacific and friendly, let us judge, my lords, rather by their actions and the nature of things than by interested assertions. The uniform assistance supplied to America by France suggests a different conclusion. The most important interests of France in aggrandizing and enriching herself with what she most wants, supplies of every naval store from America, must inspire her with different sentiments. The extraordinary preparations of the House of Bourbon, by land and by sea, from Dunkirk to the Straits, equally ready and willing to overwhelm these defenseless islands, should rouse us to a sense of their real disposition and our own danger. Not five thousand troops in England! hardly three thousand in Ireland! What can we oppose to the combined force of our enemies? Scarcely twenty ships of the line so fully or sufficiently manned, that any admiral’s reputation would permit him to take the command of. The river of Lisbon in the possession of our enemies! The seas swept by American privateers! Our Channel trade torn to pieces by them! In this complicated crisis of danger, weakness at home, and calamity abroad, terrified and insulted by the neighboring powers, unable to act in America, or acting only to be destroyed, where is the man with the forehead to promise or hope for success in such a situation, or from perseverance in the measures that have driven us to it? Who has the forehead to do so? Where is that man? I should be glad to see his face.

You can not conciliate America by your present measures. You can not subdue her by your present or by any measures. What, then, can you do? You cannot conquer; you cannot gain; but you can address; you can lull the fears and anxieties of the moment into an ignorance of the danger that should produce them. But, my lords, the time demands the language of truth. We must not now apply the flattering unction of servile compliance or blind complaisance. In a just and necessary war, to maintain the rights or honor of my country, I would strip the shirt from my back to support it. But in such a war as this, unjust in its principle, impracticable in its means, and ruinous in its consequences, I would not contribute a single effort nor a single shilling. I do not call for vengeance on the heads of those who have been guilty; I only recommend to them to make their retreat. Let them walk off; and let them make haste, or they may be assured that speedy and condign punishment will overtake them.

My lords, I have submitted to you, with the freedom and truth which I think my duty, my sentiments on your present awful situation. I have laid before you the ruin of your power, the disgrace of your reputation, the pollution of your discipline, the contamination of your morals, the complication of calamities, foreign and domestic, that overwhelm your sinking country. Your dearest interests, your own liberties, the Constitution itself, totters to the foundation. All this disgraceful danger, this multitude of misery, is the monstrous offspring of this unnatural war. We have been deceived and deluded too long. Let us now stop short. This is the crisis—the only crisis of time and situation, to give us a possibility of escape from the fatal effects of our delusions. But if, in an obstinate and infatuated perseverance in folly, we slavishly echo the peremptory words this day presented to us, nothing can save this devoted country from complete and final ruin. We madly rush into multiplied miseries, and “confusion worse confounded.”

Is it possible, can it be believed, that ministers are yet blind to this impending destruction? I did hope, that instead of this false and empty vanity, this overweening pride, engendering high conceits and presumptuous imaginations, ministers would have humbled themselves in their errors, would have confessed and retracted them, and by an active, though a late, repentance, have endeavored to redeem them. But, my lords, since they had neither sagacity to foresee, nor justice nor humanity to shun these oppressive calamities—since not even severe experience can make them feel, nor the imminent ruin of their country awaken them from their stupefaction, the guardian care of Parliament must interpose.

I shall, therefore, my lords, propose to you an amendment of the address to his majesty, to be inserted immediately after the two first paragraphs of congratulation on the birth of a princess, to recommend an immediate cessation of hostilities, and the commencement of a treaty to restore peace and liberty to America, strength and happiness to England, security and permanent prosperity to both countries. This, my lords, is yet in our power; and let not the wisdom and justice of your lordships neglect the happy, and, perhaps, the only opportunity. By the establishment of irrevocable law, founded on mutual rights, and ascertained by treaty, these glorious enjoyments may be firmly perpetuated. And let me repeat to your lordships, that the strong bias of America, at least of the wise and sounder parts of it, naturally inclines to this happy and constitutional reconnection with you. Notwithstanding the temporary intrigues with France, we may still be assured of their ancient and confirmed partiality to us. America and France can not be congenial. There is something decisive and confirmed in the honest American, that will not assimilate to the futility and levity of Frenchmen.

My lords, to encourage and confirm that innate inclination to this country, founded on every principle of affection, as well as consideration of interest; to restore that favorable disposition into a permanent and powerful reunion with this country; to revive the mutual strength of the empire; again to awe the House of Bourbon, instead of meanly truckling, as our present calamities compel us, to every insult of French caprice and Spanish punctilio; to reestablish our commerce; to reassert our rights and our honor; to confirm our interests, and renew our glories for ever—a consummation most devoutly to be endeavored! and which, I trust, may yet arise from reconciliation with America—I have the honor of submitting to you the following amendment, which I move to be inserted after the two first paragraphs of the address:

And that this House does most humbly advise and supplicate his majesty to be pleased to cause the most speedy and effectual measures to be taken for restoring peace in America; and that no time may be lost in proposing an immediate opening of a treaty for the final settlement of the tranquility of these invaluable provinces, by a removal of the unhappy causes of this ruinous civil war, and by a just and adequate security against the return of the like calamities in times to come. And this House desire to offer the most dutiful assurances to his majesty, that they will, in due time, cheerfully cooperate with the magnanimity and tender goodness of his majesty for the preservation of his people, by such explicit and most solemn declarations, and provisions of fundamental and irrevocable laws, as may be judged necessary for the ascertaining and fixing for ever the respective rights of Great Britain and her colonies.

(At this point Lord Suffolk undertook to defend the employment of Indians in the war, contending that the measure was allowable on principle, for “it was perfectly justifiable to use all the means that God and nature put into our hands!” Chatham then rose and saidJ

I am astonished, shocked! to hear such principles confessed—to hear them avowed in this House, or in this country; principles equally unconstitutional, inhuman, and unchristian!

My lords, I did not intend to have encroached again upon your attention, but I can not repress my indignation. I feel myself impelled by every duty. My lords, we are called upon as members of this House, as men, as Christian men, to protest against such notions standing near the Throne, polluting the car of majesty. “That God and nature put into our hands!” I know not what ideas that lord may entertain of God and nature, but I know that such abominable principles are equally abhorrent to religion and humanity. What! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife—to the cannibal savage, torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating—literally, my lords, eating the mangled victims of his barbarous battles! Such horrible notions shock every precept of religion, divine or natural, and every generous feeling of humanity. And, my lords, they shock every sentiment of honor; they shock me as a lover of honorable war, and a detester of murderous barbarity.

These abominable principles, and this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation. I call upon that right reverend bench, those holy ministers of the Gospel, and pious pastors of our Church—I conjure them to join in the holy work, and vindicate the religion of their God. I appeal to the wisdom and the law of this learned bench, to defend and support the justice of their country. I call upon the Bishops to interpose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn; upon the learned judges, to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from this pollution. I call upon the honor of your lordships, to reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country to vindicate the national character. I invoke the genius of the Constitution. From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor (Note: Lord Howard of Effingham, lord high admiral of England, commanded the fleet that overthrew the Spanish Armada in 1588. The tapestries to which Chatham refers, representing this battle, were burned in the fire that destroyed the House of Lords in 1834.) of this noble lord frowns with indignation at the disgrace of his country.

In vain he led your victorious fleets against the boasted Armada of Spain; in vain he defended and established the honor, the liberties, the religion—the Protestant religion—of this country, against the arbitrary cruelties of popery and the Inquisition, if these more than popish cruelties and inquisitorial practices are let loose among us—to turn forth into our settlements, among our ancient connections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal, thirsting for the blood of man, woman and child; to send forth the infidel savage—against whom? Against your Protestant brethren; to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name with these horrible hell-hounds of savage war—hell-hounds, I say, of savage war! Spain armed herself with blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched natives of America, and we improve on the inhuman example of Spanish cruelty; we turn loose these savage hell-hounds against our brethren and countrymen in America, of the same language, laws, liberties, and religion, endeared to us by every tie that should sanctify humanity.

My lords, this awful subject, so important to our honor, our Constitution, and our religion, demands the most solemn and effectual inquiry. And I again call upon your lordships, and the united powers of the State, to examine it thoroughly and decisively, and to stamp upon it an indelible stigma of the public abhorrence. And I again implore those holy prelates of our religion to do away these iniquities from among us. Let them perform a lustration; let them purify this House, and this country, from this sin.

My lords, I am old and weak, and at present unable to say more; but my feelings and indignation were too strong to have said less. I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor reposed my head on my pillow, without giving this vent to my eternal abhorrence of such preposterous and enormous principles.

Note: Spoken in the House of Lords, November 18, 1777. A report of this speech was corrected by Chatham himself, and its publication authorized by him. It has usually been accepted as his greatest oration. He was then in his seventieth year. In spite of his efforts, the amendment proposed by him was lost by a vote of 97 to 24. Parliament then adjourned, and the alliance between France and America, which made certain the triumph of the Colonies, became an accomplished fact. Chatham’s last appearance in Parliament was made a few months after this speech—on April 7, 1778, when he protested against the acknowledgment of American independence, because it would dismember the British Empire.
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Mar 27, 2008

Rules for Decent Living

IF thou be a lord, look thou live a rightful life in thine own person, both anent God and man, keeping the hests of God, doing the works of mercy, ruling well thy five wits, and doing reason and equity and good conscience to all men. The second time, govern well thy wife, thy children, and thy homely men in God’s law, and suffer no sin among them, neither in word nor in deed, upon thy might, that they may be ensample of holiness and righteousness to all other. For thou shalt be damned for their evil life and thine evil sufferance, but if thou amendest it upon thy might. The third time, govern well thy tenants, and maintain them in right and reason and be merciful to them in their rents and worldly merriments, and suffer not thy officers to do them wrong nor extortions, and chastise them in good manner that he rebel against God’s hests and virtuous living, more than for rebellion against thine own cause or person.

John Wyclif (c.1328–1384)

Born in 1324, died in 1384; Master of Baliol College, Oxford, in 1360; then Rector of three parishes successively; a Royal Ambassador to confer with papal nuncios at Bruges in 1374; summoned before Convocation in 1373 because of his attacks on the clergy; threw off his allegiance to the Papacy and wrote ceaselessly against the Papal claim; made the first complete translation of the Bible into English about 1382; his bones exhumed and burned, and the ashes thrown into a river by order of the Synod of Constance in 1428.



IF thou be a lord, look thou live a rightful life in thine own person, both anent God and man, keeping the hests of God, doing the works of mercy, ruling well thy five wits, and doing reason and equity and good conscience to all men. The second time, govern well thy wife, thy children, and thy homely men in God’s law, and suffer no sin among them, neither in word nor in deed, upon thy might, that they may be ensample of holiness and righteousness to all other. For thou shalt be damned for their evil life and thine evil sufferance, but if thou amendest it upon thy might. The third time, govern well thy tenants, and maintain them in right and reason and be merciful to them in their rents and worldly merriments, and suffer not thy officers to do them wrong nor extortions, and chastise them in good manner that he rebel against God’s hests and virtuous living, more than for rebellion against thine own cause or person.

And hold with God’s cause, and love, reward, praise, and cherish the true and virtuous of life more than if they do only thine own profit and worship; and maintain truly, upon thy cunning and might, God’s law and true preachers thereof, and God’s servants in rest and peace, for by this reason thou holdest thy lordship of God. And if thou failest of this, thou forfeitest against God in all thy lordship, in body and soul; principally if thou maintainest antichrist’s disciples in their errors against Christ’s life and His teaching, for blindness and worldly friendship, and helpest to slander and pursue true men that teach Christ’s gospel and His life. And warn the people of their great sins, and of false priests and hypocrites, that deceive Christian men, in faith and virtuous life, and worldly goods also.

If thou be a laborer, live in meekness, and truly and wilfully do thy labor; so if thy lord or thy master be a heathen man, that by thy meekness and wilful and true service, he have not to murmur against thee, nor slander thy God nor Christendom. And serve not Christian lords with murmuring, nor only in their presence, but truly and wilfully in their absence, not only for worldly dread nor worldly reward, but for dread of God and good conscience, and for reward in heaven. For that God that putteth thee in such service wots what state is best for thee, and will reward thee more than all earthly lords may, if thou dost it truly and wilfully for His ordinance. And in all things beware of murmuring against God and His visitation, in great labor and long, and great sickness and other adversities, and beware of wrath, of cursing and warying, or banning, of man or of beast. And ever keep patience and meekness and charity both to God and to man. And thus each man in these three states oweth to live, to save himself and help others; and thus should good life, rest, peace, and charity be among Christian men, and they be saved, and heathen men soon converted, and God magnified greatly in all nations and sects that now despise Him and His law, for the wicked living of false Christian men.
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Mar 26, 2008

On His Proposed Removal from Office

IT has been observed by several gentlemen, in vindication of this motion, that if it should be carried, neither my life, liberty, nor estate will be affected. But do the honorable gentlemen consider my character and reputation as of no moment? Is it no imputation to be arraigned before this House, in which I have sat forty years, and to have my name transmitted to posterity with disgrace and infamy? I will not conceal my sentiments that to be named in Parliament as a subject of inquiry is to me a matter of great concern. But I have the satisfaction, at the same time, to reflect that the impression to be made depends upon the consistency of the charge and the motives of the prosecutors.

Robert Walpole, Earl of Orford (1676–1745)

(1741)

Born in 1676, died in 1745; entered Parliament in 1701; became a Whig leader and Secretary of War in 1708; expelled from Parliament and sent to the Tower in 1712; returned to Parliament in 1713; Prime Minister in 1715–1717; again Prime Minister 1721–1742.



IT has been observed by several gentlemen, in vindication of this motion, that if it should be carried, neither my life, liberty, nor estate will be affected. But do the honorable gentlemen consider my character and reputation as of no moment? Is it no imputation to be arraigned before this House, in which I have sat forty years, and to have my name transmitted to posterity with disgrace and infamy? I will not conceal my sentiments that to be named in Parliament as a subject of inquiry is to me a matter of great concern. But I have the satisfaction, at the same time, to reflect that the impression to be made depends upon the consistency of the charge and the motives of the prosecutors.

My great and principal crime is my long continuance in office; or, in other words, the long exclusion of those who now complain against me. This is the heinous offense which exceeds all others. I keep from them the possession of that power, those honors, and those emoluments, to which they so ardently and pertinaciously aspire. I will not attempt to deny the reasonableness and necessity of a party war; but in carrying on that war all principles and rules of justice should not be departed from. The Tories must confess that the most obnoxious persons have felt few instances of extra-judicial power. Wherever they have been arraigned, a plain charge has been exhibited against them. They have had an impartial trial and have been permitted to make their defense. And will they, who have experienced this fair and equitable mode of proceeding, act in direct opposition to every principle of justice and establish this fatal precedent of parliamentary inquisition? Whom would they conciliate by a conduct so contrary to principle and precedent?

Gentlemen have talked a great deal of patriotism. A venerable word, when duly practiced. But I am sorry to say that of late it has been so much hackneyed about that it is in danger of falling into disgrace. The very idea of true patriotism is lost, and the term has been prostituted to the very worst of purposes. A patriot, sir! Why, patriots spring up like mushrooms! I could raise fifty of them within the four-and-twenty hours. I have raised many of them in one night. It is but refusing to gratify an unreasonable or an insolent demand, and up starts a patriot. I have never been afraid of making patriots; but I disdain and despise all their efforts. This pretended virtue proceeds from personal malice and disappointed ambition. There is not a man among them whose particular aim I am not able to ascertain, and from what motive they have entered into the lists of opposition.

I shall now consider the articles of accusation which they have brought against me, and which they have not thought fit to reduce to specific charges; and I shall consider these in the same order as that in which they were placed by the honorable member who made the motion: first, in regard to foreign affairs; secondly, to domestic affairs; and, thirdly, to the conduct of the war.

As to foreign affairs, I must take notice of the uncandid manner in which the gentlemen on the other side have managed the question by blending numerous treaties and complicated negotiations into one general mass.

To form a fair and candid judgment of the subject it becomes necessary not to consider the treaties merely insulated, but to advert to the time in which they were made, to the circumstances and situation of Europe when they were made, to the peculiar situation in which I stand, and to the power which I possessed. I am called repeatedly and insidiously prime and sole minister. Admitting, however, for the sake of argument, that I am prime and sole minister in this country, am I, therefore, prime and sole minister of all Europe? Am I answerable for the conduct of other countries as well as for that of my own? Many words are not wanting to show that the particular view of each court occasioned the dangers which affected the public tranquility; yet the whole is charged to my account. Nor is this sufficient. Whatever was the conduct of England, I am equally arraigned. If we maintained ourselves in peace, and took no share in foreign transactions, we are reproached for tameness and pusillanimity. If, on the contrary, we interfered in these disputes, we are called Don Quixotes, and dupes to all the world. If we contracted guarantees, it was asked why is the nation wantonly burdened? If guarantees were declined, we were reproached with having no allies.

I now come, sir, to the second head—the conduct of domestic affairs. And here a most heinous charge is made, that the nation has been burdened with unnecessary expenses for the sole purpose of preventing the discharge of our debts and the abolition of taxes. But this attack is more to the dishonor of the whole cabinet council than to me. If there is any ground for this imputation, it is a charge upon king, lords and commons, as corrupted or imposed upon. And they have no proof of these allegations, but affect to substantiate them by common fame and public notoriety!

No expense has been incurred but what has been approved of and provided for by Parliament. The public treasure has been duly applied to the uses to which it was appropriated by Parliament, and regular accounts have been annually laid before Parliament, of every article of expense. If by foreign accidents, by the disputes of foreign states among themselves, or by their designs against us, the nation has often been put to an extraordinary expense, that expense can not be said to have been unnecessary; because, if by saving it we had exposed the balance of power to danger, or ourselves to an attack, it would have cost, perhaps, a hundred times that sum before we could recover from that danger or repel that attack.

In all such cases there will be a variety of opinions. I happened to be one of those who thought all these expenses necessary, and I had the good fortune to have the majority of both houses of Parliament on my side. But this, it seems, proceeded from bribery and corruption. Sir, if any one instance had been mentioned, if it had been shown that I ever offered a reward to any member of either House, or ever threatened to deprive any member of his office or employment, in order to influence his vote in Parliament, there might have been some ground for this charge. But when it is so generally laid I do not know what I can say to it unless it be to deny it as generally and as positively as it has been asserted. And, thank God! till some proof be offered, I have the laws of the land as well as the laws of charity in my favor.

Some members of both Houses have, it is true, been removed from their employments under the Crown; but were they ever told, either by me or by any other of his majesty’s servants, that it was for opposing the measures of the administration in Parliament? They were removed because his majesty did not think fit to continue them longer in his service. His majesty had a right so to do; and I know no one that has a right to ask him, “What doest thou?” If his majesty had a mind that the favors of the crown should circulate, would not this of itself be a good reason for removing any of his servants? Would not this reason be approved of by the whole nation, except those who happen to be the present possessors? I can not, therefore, see how this can be imputed as a crime, or how any of the king’s ministers can be blamed for his doing what the public has no concern in; for if the public be well and faithfully served it has no business to ask by whom.

I shall now advert to the third topic of accusation—the conduct of the war. (Note: The War of the Austrian Succession. Frederick the Great had invaded Silesia the year before the date of this speech, and was soon to win the important battle of Mollwitz.) I have already stated in what manner and under what circumstances hostilities commenced; and as I am neither general nor admiral—as I have nothing to do either with our navy or army—I am sure that I am not answerable for the prosecution of it. But were I to answer for everything no fault could, I thin, be found with my conduct in the prosecution of the war. It has from the beginning been carried on with as much vigor and as great care of our trade as was consistent with our safety at home and with the circumstances we were in at the beginning of the war. If our attacks upon the enemy were too long delayed, or if they have not been so vigorous or so frequent as they ought to have been, those only are to blame who have for many years been haranging against standing armies; for, without a sufficient number of regular troops in proportion to the numbers kept up by our neighbors, I am sure we can neither defend ourselves nor offend our enemies. On the supposed miscarriages of the war, so unfairly stated and so unjustly imputed to me, I could, with great ease, frame an incontrovertible defense. But as I have trespassed so long on the time of the House I shall not weaken the effect of that forcible exculpation so generously and disinterestedly advanced by the right honorable gentleman who so meritoriously presides at the admiralty.

If my whole administration is to be scrutinized and arraigned, why are the most favorable parts to be omitted? If facts are to be accumulated on one side, why not on the other? And why may not I be permitted to speak in my own favor? Was I not called by the voice of the king and the nation to remedy the fatal effects of the South Sea project (Note: The South Sea Bubble had exploded in 1720, ruining thousands of families. Walpole became prime minister for the second time in 1721.) and to support declining credit? Was I not placed at the head of the treasury when the revenues were in the greatest confusion? Is credit revived, and does it now flourish? Is it not at an incredible height, and if so, to whom must that circumstance be attributed? Has not tranquillity been preserved both at home and abroad, notwithstanding a most unreasonable and violent opposition? Has the true interest of the nation been pursued, or has trade flourished? Have gentlemen produced one instance of this exorbitant power; of the influence which I extend to all parts of the nation; of the tyranny with which I oppress those who oppose, and the liberality with which I reward those who support me? But having first invested me with a kind of mock dignity, and styled me a prime minister, they impute to me an unpardonable abuse of that chimerical authority which they only have created and conferred.

If they are really persuaded that the army is annually established by me, that I have the sole disposal of posts and honors, that I employ this power in the destruction of liberty and the diminution of commerce, let me awaken them from their delusion. Let me expose to their view the real condition of the public weal. Let me show them that the crown has made no encroachments, that all supplies have been granted by Parliament, that all questions have been debated with the same freedom as before the fatal period in which my counsels are said to have gained the ascendency—an ascendency from which they deduce the loss of trade, the approach of slavery, the preponderance of prerogative, and the extension of influence. But I am far from believing that they feel those apprehensions which they so earnestly labor to communicate to others; and I have too high an opinion of their sagacity not to conclude that, even in their own judgment, they are complaining of grievances that they do not suffer, and promoting rather their private interest than that of the public.

What is this unbounded sole power which is imputed to me? How has it discovered itself, or how has it been proved? What have been the effects of the corruption, ambition, and avarice with which I am so abundantly charged?

Have I ever been suspected of being corrupted? A strange phenomenon, a corrupter himself not corrupt! Is ambition imputed to me? Why then do I still continue a commoner?—I, who refused a white staff and a peerage. I had, indeed, like to have forgotten the little ornament about my shoulders (the garter), which gentlemen have so repeatedly mentioned in terms of sarcastic obloquy. But surely, though this may be regarded with envy or indignation in another place, it can not be supposed to raise any resentment in this House, where many may be pleased to see those honors which their ancestors have worn, restored again to the Commons.

Have I given any symptoms of an avaricious disposition? Have I obtained any grants from the crown since I have been placed at the head of the treasury? Has my conduct been different from that which others in the same station would have followed? Have I acted wrong in giving the place of auditor to my son and in providing for my own family? I trust that their advancement will not be imputed to me as a crime unless it shall be proved that I placed them in offices of trust and responsibility for which they were unfit.

But while I unequivocally deny that I am sole and prime minister, and that to my influence and direction all the measures of the government must be attributed, yet I will not shrink from the responsibility which attaches to the post I have the honor to hold; and should, during the long period in which I have sat upon this bench, any one step taken by government be proved to be either disgraceful or disadvantageous to the nation, I am ready to hold myself accountable.

To conclude, sir, though I shall always be proud of the honor of any trust or confidence from his majesty, yet I shall always be ready to remove from his councils and presence when he thinks fit; and therefore I should think myself very little concerned in the event of the present question if it were not for the encroachment that will thereby be made upon the prerogatives of the crown. But I must think that an address to his majesty to remove one of his servants, without so much as alleging any particular crime against him, is one of the greatest encroachments that was ever made upon the prerogatives of the crown. And therefore, for the sake of my mater, without any regard for my own, I hope all those that have a due regard for our constitution and for the rights and prerogatives of the crown, without which our constitution can not be preserved, will be against this motion.

Note: Delivered in the House of Commons in February, 1741. Abridged. Among other things Walpole was accused of having made himself “sole and prime minister,” which at that time was regarded as an invasion or the rights of his colleagues. The motion for his removal was lost by a vote of 106 for to 290 against it.
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The Retort to Walpole

THE ATROCIOUS crime of being a young man, which the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny; but content myself with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies may cease with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproach, I will not, sir, assume the province of determining; but surely age may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without improvement and vice appears to prevail when the passions have subsided.

William Pitt, Earl of Chatham (1708–78)

(1741)

Born in 1708, died in 1778; entered Parliament in 1735; attacked the Government in 1755, and removed from office; Secretary of State in 1756–1757; again Secretary of State in the Coalition Ministry of 1757–1761, when he adopted vigorous measures in the Seven Years’ War; Prime Minister in 1766; resigned on account of ill health in 1768; made his last appearance in Parliament in 1778.



THE ATROCIOUS crime of being a young man, which the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny; but content myself with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies may cease with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproach, I will not, sir, assume the province of determining; but surely age may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without improvement and vice appears to prevail when the passions have subsided.

The wretch, who, after having seen the consequences of a thousand errors, continues still to blunder, and whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object of either abhorrence or contempt, and deserves not that his gray hairs should secure him from insult.

Much more, sir, is he to be abhorred, who, as he has advanced in age has receded from virtue and become more wicked with less temptation—who prostitutes himself for money which he can not enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country.

But youth, sir, is not my only crime. I have been accused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either imply some peculiarities of gesture, or a dissimulation of my real sentiments, and an adoption of the opinions and language of another man. In the first sense, sir, the charge is too trifling to be confuted and deserves only to be mentioned to be despised. I am at liberty like every other man to use my own language; and though I may, perhaps, have some ambition to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his diction or his mien, however matured by age or modeled by experience.

If any man shall, by charging me with theatrical behavior, imply that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumniator and a villain—nor shall any protection shelter him from the treatment he deserves. I shall on such an occasion without scruple trample upon all those forms with which wealth and dignity intrench themselves—nor shall anything but age restrain my resentment; age, which always brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious without punishment.

But with regard, sir, to those whom I have offended, I am of opinion that if I had acted a borrowed part I should have avoided their censure. The heat that offended them is the ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my country which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit unconcerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavors at whatever hazard to repel the aggressor and drag the thief to justice, whoever may protect them in their villainy, and whoever may partake of their plunder. And if the honorable gentleman—

(At this point Pitt, called to order by Winnington, sat down. In the course of his protest, Winnington said:—“I do not, sir, undertake to decide the controversy between the two gentlemen, but I must be allowed to observe that no diversity of opinion can justify the violation of decency, and the use of rude and virulent expressions; expressions dictated only by resentment and uttered without regard to——” Whereupon Pitt jumped to his feet and called Winnington to order, saying:)

Sir: If this be to preserve order there is no danger of indecency from the most licentious tongue; for what calumny can be more atrocious, or what reproach more severe, than that of speaking with regard to anything but truth. Order may sometimes be broken by passion or inadvertency, but will hardly be reestablished by a monitor like this who can not govern his own passion while he is restraining the impetuosity of others. Happy, sir, would it be for mankind if everyone knew his own province; we should not then see the same man at once a criminal and a judge, nor would this gentleman assume the right of dictating to others what he has not learned himself. That I may return in some degree the favor which he intends me, I will advise him never hereafter to express himself on the subject of order, but whenever he feels inclined to speak on such occasions to remember how he has now succeeded and condemn in silence what his censures will never reform.

Note: This celebrated retort was made during the debate on Walpole’s bill for the encouragement and increase of seamen. As here given, it was furnished by Doctor Johnson to The Gentleman’s Magazine for November, 1741. The phrasing of the retort in the main is undoubtedly Johnson’s rather than Pitt’s. Long after the date of the speech, some one mentioned it in Johnson’s presence as superior to anything in Demosthenes, whereupon Johnson declared, “I wrote that speech in a garret in Exeter Street.” The internal evidence bears him out, for in these reports Pitt, Walpole, Halifax, and Newcastle all speak alike. But the ideas are of course those of Pitt. The reply was not made to Sir Robert Walpole, the prime minister, but to his brother, Horace Walpole, the older, who in answer to a speech Pitt had already made attacking Sir Robert’s administration, had said: “Formidable sound and furious declamation, confident assertions and lofty periods may affect the young and inexperienced, and perhaps the gentleman may have contracted his habits of oratory by conversing more with those of his own age than with such as have had more opportunities of acquiring knowledge, and more successful methods of communicating their sentiments. If the heat of his temper, sir, would suffer him to attend to those whose age and long acquaintance with business give them an indisputable right to deference and superiority, he would learn in time to reason rather than to declaim, and to prefer justness of argument and an accurate knowledge of the facts to sounding epithets and splendid superlatives, which may disturb the imagination for a moment, but leave no lasting impression on the mind. He will learn, sir, that to accuse and give proof are very different, and that reproaches inspired by vindictiveness affect only the character of him that utters them. Excursions of fancy and flights of oratory are indeed pardonable in young men, but in no other.”
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Mar 24, 2008

On Coercive Measures in America

THE ADDRESS to the king, upon the disturbances in North America, now reported from the Committee of the whole House, appears to be unfounded, rash, and sanguinary. It draws the sword unjustly against America. It mentions, sir, the particular Province of Massachusetts Bay as in a state of actual rebellion. (Note: The Boston Tea Party had occurred in December, 1773. General Gage became governor of Massachusetts in the following May, and in October the Provincial Congress met in defiance of Gage’s orders forbidding it to do so.) The other provinces are held out to our indignation as aiding and abetting. Arguments have been employed to involve them in all the consequences of an open, declared rebellion, and to obtain the fullest orders for our officers and troops to act against them as rebels.

John Wilkes (1727–97)

(1775)

Born in 1727, died in 1797; entered Parliament in 1757; established the North Briton in 1762; imprisoned for criticizing the king in 1763; expelled from Parliament in 1764; outlawed for non-appearance when summoned to trial; returned to England in 1768, and reelected to Parliament; imprisoned and again expelled from Parliament in 1769; several times reelected but declared ineligible; elected Alderman of London in 1770; Lord Mayor in 1774, and in the same year elected to Parliament, securing his seat and remaining a member until 1790.


THE ADDRESS to the king, upon the disturbances in North America, now reported from the Committee of the whole House, appears to be unfounded, rash, and sanguinary. It draws the sword unjustly against America. It mentions, sir, the particular Province of Massachusetts Bay as in a state of actual rebellion. (Note: The Boston Tea Party had occurred in December, 1773. General Gage became governor of Massachusetts in the following May, and in October the Provincial Congress met in defiance of Gage’s orders forbidding it to do so.) The other provinces are held out to our indignation as aiding and abetting. Arguments have been employed to involve them in all the consequences of an open, declared rebellion, and to obtain the fullest orders for our officers and troops to act against them as rebels.

Whether their present state is that of rebellion, or of a fit and just resistance to unlawful acts of power—resistance to our attempts to rob them of their property and liberties, as they imagine—I shall not declare. This I know: a successful resistance is a revolution, not a rebellion! Rebellion indeed appears on the back of a flying enemy; but revolution flames on the breast-plate of the victorious warrior. Who can tell, sir, whether, in consequence of this day’s violent and mad address to his majesty, the scabbard may not be thrown away by them as well as by us; and, should success attend them, whether, in a few years, the independent Americans may not celebrate the glorious era of the Revolution of 1775, as we do that of 1688?

The policy, sir, of this measure, I can no more comprehend, than I can acknowledge the justice of it. Is your force adequate to the attempt? I am satisfied it is not. Boston, indeed, you may lay in ashes, or it may be made a strong garrison; but the province will be lost to you. Boston will be like Gibraltar. You will hold, in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, as you do in Spain, a single town, while the whole country remains in the power and possession of the enemy. Where your fleets and armies are stationed, the possession will be secured, while they continue; but all the rest will be lost. In the great scale of empire, you will decline, I fear, from the decision of this day; and the Americans will rise to independence, to power, to all the greatness of the most renowned states! For they build on the solid basis of general public liberty.

I tremble, sir, at the almost certain consequences of such an address, founded in cruelty and injustice, equally contrary to the sound maxims of true policy, and the unerring rule of natural right. The Americans will certainly defend their property and their liberties with the spirit which our ancestors exerted, and which, I hope, we should exert, on a like occasion. They will sooner declare themselves independent, and risk every consequence of such a contest, than submit to the galling yoke which administration is preparing for them. An address of this sanguinary nature can not fail of driving them to despair. They will see that you are preparing, not only to draw the sword, but to burn the scabbard. In the most harsh manner you are declaring them rebels! Every idea of a reconciliation will now vanish. They will pursue the most vigorous course in their own defense. The whole continent of North America will be dismembered from Great Britain, and the wide arch of the raised empire will fall. But may the just vengeance of the people overtake the authors of these pernicious counsels! May the loss of the first province of the empire be speedily followed by the loss of the heads of those ministers who have persisted in these wicked, these fatal, these most disastrous measures!

Note: Delivered in Parliament early in 1775. In October of the previous year Wilkes had become lord mayor, and in his official capacity had presented to the king the remonstrances of the livery against the coercive policy toward America, the manner in which he discharged his duty evoking from the king a remark that he charmed him; had “never known so well bred a lord mayor.” Elected to Parliament in 1774. Wilkes continued to oppose with vigor the measures of the government in America.
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Mar 23, 2008

At the Opening of Parliament Under the Protectorate

GENTLEMEN—You are met here on the greatest occasion that, I believe, England ever saw; having upon your shoulders the interests of three great nations with the territories belonging to them; and truly, I believe I may say without any hyperbole, you have upon your shoulders the interest of all the Christian people in the world. And the expectation is that I should let you know, as far as I have cognizance of it, the occasion of your assembling together at this time.

Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658)

(1654)

Born in 1599, died in 1658; elected to Parliament in 1628; made Captain of Parliamentary Horse in 1642; organized his Ironsides in 1643; made Lieutenant-General in 1645; signed the death warrant of Charles I. in 1649; in control of the government in 1649; went to Ireland in 1650; Commander-in-Chief in 1650; won the Battle of Dunbar in 1650, of Worcester in 1651; expelled the Rump Parliament in 1653; made Lord Protector in 1653.



GENTLEMEN—You are met here on the greatest occasion that, I believe, England ever saw; having upon your shoulders the interests of three great nations with the territories belonging to them; and truly, I believe I may say without any hyperbole, you have upon your shoulders the interest of all the Christian people in the world. And the expectation is that I should let you know, as far as I have cognizance of it, the occasion of your assembling together at this time.

It hath been very well hinted to you this day that you come hither to settle the interests above mentioned: for your work here, in the issue and consequences of it, will extend so far, even to all Christian people. In the way and manner of my speaking to you, I shall study plainness, and to speak to you what is truth, and what is upon my heart, and what will in some measure reach to these great concernments.

After so many changes and turnings which this nation hath labored under, to have such a day of hope as this is, and such a door of hope opened by God to us, truly I believe, some months since, would have been beyond all our thoughts! I confess it would have been worthy of such a meeting as this is, to have remembered that which was the rise of, and gave the first beginning to, all these troubles which have been upon this nation: and to have given you a series of the transactions,—not of men, but of the providence of God, all along unto our late changes: as also the ground of our first undertaking to oppose that usurpation and tyranny which was upon us, both in civils and spirituals; and the several grounds particularly applicable to the several changes that have been. But I have two or three reasons which divert me from such a way of proceeding at this time.

If I should have gone in that way, then that which lies upon my heart as to these things—which is so written there that if I would blot it out I could not—would itself have spent this day: the providences and dispensations of God have been so stupendous.

What I judge to be the end of your meeting, the great end, which was likewise remembered to you this day; to wit, is healing and settling. The remembering of transactions too particularly, perhaps instead of healing—at least in the hearts of many of you—might set the wound fresh a-bleeding. And I must profess this unto you, whatever thoughts pass upon me: That if this day, if this meeting, prove not healing, what shall we do? But, as I said before, I trust it is in the minds of you all, and much more in the mind of God, to cause healing. It must be first in His mind: and He being pleased to put it into yours, this will be a day indeed, and such a day as generations to come will bless you for! I say for this and the other reasons I have forborne to make a particular remembrance and enumeration of things, and of the manner of the Lord’s bringing us through so many changes and turnings as have passed upon us.

Howbeit I think it will be more than necessary to let you know, at least so well as I may, in what condition this nation, or rather these nations, were, when the present government was undertaken. And for order’s sake: It’s very natural to consider what our condition was, in civils; and then also in spirituals.

What was our condition? Every man’s hand almost was against his brother—at least his heart was, little regarding anything that should cement, and might have a tendency in it to came us to grow into one. All the dispensations of God—his terrible ones, when he met us in the way of His judgment in a ten-years’ civil war, and his merciful ones: they did not, they did not work upon us! No. But we had our humors and interests; and indeed I fear our humors went for more with us than even our interests. Certainly, as it falls out in such cases, our passions were more than our judgments. Was not everything almost grown arbitrary? Who of us knew where or how to have right done him, without some obstruction or other intervening? Indeed we were almost grown arbitrary in everything.

What was the face that was upon our affairs as to the interest of the nation; as to the authority in the nation; to the magistracy; to the ranks and orders of men,—whereby England hath been known for hundreds of years? A nobleman, a gentleman, a yeoman; the distinction of these: that is a good interest of the nation, and a great one! The natural magistracy of the nation, was it not almost trampled under foot, under despite and contempt, by men of leveling principles? I beseech you, for the orders of men and ranks of men, did not that leveling principle tend to the reducing of all to an equality? Did it consciously think to do so; or did it only unconsciously practice toward that for property and interest? At all events, what was the purport of it but to make the tenant as liberal a fortune as the landlord?—which, I think, if obtained, would not have lasted long! The men of that principle, after they have served their own turns, would then have cried up property and interest fast enough! This instance is instead of many. And that the thing did and might well extend far is manifest; because it was a pleasing voice to all poor men, and truly not unwelcome to all bad men. To my thinking, this is a consideration which, in your endeavors after settlement, you will be so well minded of that I might have spared it here: but let that pass.

And now as to spirituals. Indeed in spiritual things the case was more sad and deplorable still; and that was told to you this day eminently. The prodigious blasphemies; contempt of God and Christ, denying of Him, contempt of Him and His ordinances and of the Scriptures: a spirit visibly acting those things foretold by Peter and Jude; yea, those things spoken of by Paul to Timothy! Paul declaring some things to be worse than the antichristian state (of which he had spoken in I. Tim. iv:1, 2, under the title of the Latter Times), tells us what should be the lot and portion of the Last Times. He says (II. Tim. iii:2–4): “In the Last Days perilous times shall come; men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful,” and so on. But in speaking of the antichristian state he told us (I. Tim. iv:1, 2) that “in the latter days” that state shall come in; not the last days, but the latter,—wherein “there shall be a departing from the faith, and a giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils, speaking lies in hypocrisy,” and so on. This is only his description of the latter times, or those of antichrist; and we are given to understand that there are last times coming, which will be worse! And surely it may be feared, these are our times. For when men forget all rules of law and nature, and break all the bonds that fallen man hath on him, obscuring the remainder of the image of God in their nature, which they can not blot out, and yet shall endeavor to blot out, “having a form of godliness without the power,”—surely these are sad tokens of the last times!

And indeed the character wherewith this spirit and principle is described in that place of Scripture is so legible and visible that he who runs may read it to be among us. For by such “the grace of God is turned into wantonness,” and Christ and the Spirit of God made a cloak for all villainy and spurious apprehensions. And though nobody will own these things publicly as to practice, the things being so abominable and odious; yet the consideration how this principle extends itself, and whence it had its rise, makes me think of a second sort of men, tending in the same direction, who, it is true, as I said, will not practice or own these things, yet can tell the magistrate “that he hath nothing to do with men holding such notions: these, forsooth, are matters of conscience and opinion: they are matters of religion; what hath the magistrate to do with these things? He is to look to the outward man, not to the inward,”—and so forth. And truly it so happens that though these things do break out visibly to all, yet the principle wherewith these things are carried on so forbids the magistrate to meddle with them that it hath hitherto kept the offenders from punishment.

Such considerations, and pretensions to “liberty of conscience,” what are they leading us toward? Liberty of conscience, and liberty of the subject,—two as glorious things to be contended for as any that God hath given us; yet both these abused for the patronizing of villainies! insomuch that it hath been an ordinary thing to say, and in dispute to affirm, “that the restraining of such pernicious notions was not in the magistrate’s power; he had nothing to do with it. Not so much as the printing of a Bible in the nation for the use of the people was competent to the magistrate, lest it should be imposed upon the consciences of men,”—for “they would receive the same traditionally and implicitly from the magistrate if it were thus received!” The afore-mentioned abominations did thus swell to this height among us.

We may reckon among these our spiritual evils an evil that hath more refinedness in it, more color for it, and hath deceived more people of integrity than the rest have done; for few have been catched by the former mistakes except such as have apostatized from their holy profession, such as, being corrupt in their consciences, have been forsaken by God and left to such noisome opinions. But, I say, there is another error of more refined sort, which many honest people whose hearts are sincere, many of them belonging to God, have fallen into; and that is the mistaken notion of the Fifth Monarchy.

Fifth Monarchy. (Note: The Fifth Monarchy men were Second Adventists. They believed in a literal second coming of Christ, and that it was their duty to establish a kingdom for Him by force. This kingdom was to be the fifth in a series, of which the four others were Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome.) A thing pretending more spirituality than anything else. A notion I hope we all honor, and wait, and hope for the fulfilment of: That Jesus Christ will have a time to set up His reign in our hearts by subduing those corruptions and lusts and evils that are there, which now reign more in the world than, I hope, in due time they shall do. And when more fulness of the Spirit is poured forth to subdue iniquity and bring in everlasting righteousness, then will the approach of that glory be. The carnal divisions and contentions among Christians, so common, are not the symptoms of that kingdom! But for men, on this principle, to betitle themselves that they are the only men to rule kingdoms, govern nations, and give laws to people, and determine of property and liberty and everything else,—upon such a pretension as this is: truly they had need to give clear manifestations of God’s presence with them before wise men will receive or submit to their conclusions! Nevertheless, as many of these men have good meanings, which I hope in my soul they have, it will be the wisdom of all knowing and experienced Christians to do as Jude saith—Jude, when he reckoned up those horrible things, done upon pretenses, and haply by some upon mistakes: “Of some,” says he, “have compassion, making a difference”; others save, “with fear pulling them out of the fire.” I fear they will give too often opportunity for this exercise! But I hope the same will be for their good. If men do but so much as pretend for justice and righteousness, and be of peaceable spirits, and will manifest this, let them be the subjects of the magistrate’s encouragement. And if the magistrate, by punishing visible miscarriages, save them by that discipline, God having ordained him for that end, I hope it will evidence love and not hatred, so to punish where there is cause.

Indeed this is that which doth most declare the danger of that spirit. For if these were but notions,—I mean these instances I have given you of dangerous doctrines both in civil things and spiritual; if, I say, they were but notions. They were best let alone. Notions will hurt none but those that have them. But when they come to such practices as telling us, for instance, that liberty and property are not the badges of the Kingdom of Christ; when they tell us, not that we are to regulate law, but that law is to be abrogated, indeed subverted; and perhaps wish to bring in the Judaical Law, instead of our known laws settled among us: this is worthy of every magistrate’s consideration, especially where every stone is turned to bring in confusion. I think, I say, this will be worthy of the magistrate’s consideration.

While these things were in the midst of us; and while the nation was rent and torn in spirit and principle from one end to the other, after this sort and manner I have now told you; family against family, husband against wife, parents against children; and nothing in the hearts and minds of men but “Overturn, overturn, overturn!” (a Scripture phrase very much abused, and applied to justify unpeaceable practices by all men of discontented spirits),—the common enemy sleeps not: our adversaries in civil and religious respects did take advantage of these distractions and divisions, and did practice accordingly in the three nations of England, Scotland, and Ireland. We know very well that emissaries of the Jesuits never came in such swarms as they have done since those things were set on foot. And I tell you that divers gentlemen here can bear witness with me how that they, the Jesuits, have had a consistory abroad which rules all the affairs of things in England, from an archbishop down to the other dependents upon him. And they had fixed in England—of which we are able to produce the particular instruments in most of the limits of their cathedrals or pretended dioceses—an episcopal power with archdeacons, etc., and had persons authorized to exercise and distribute those things, who pervert and deceive the people. And all this, while we were in that sad, and, as I said, deplorable condition.

And in the meantime all endeavors possible were used to hinder the work of God in Ireland, and the progress of the work of God in Scotland; by continual intelligences and correspondences, both at home and abroad, from hence into Ireland, and from hence into Scotland. Persons were stirred up, from our divisions and discomposure of affairs, to do all they could to ferment the war in both these places. To add yet to our misery, whilst we were in this condition, we were in a foreign war. Deeply engaged in war with the Portuguese; whereby our trade ceased: the evil consequences by that war were manifest and very considerable. And not only this, but we had a war with Holland; consuming our treasure; occasioning a vast burden upon the people. A war that cost this nation full as much as the whole taxes came unto; the navy being a hundred and sixty ships, which cost this nation above £100,000 a month; besides the contingencies, which would make it £120,000. That very one war did engage us to so great a charge. At the same time also we were in a war with France. The advantages that were taken of the discontents and divisions among ourselves did also ferment that war, and at least hinder us of an honorable peace; every man being confident we could not hold out long. And surely they did not calculate amiss if the Lord had not been exceedingly gracious to us! I say, at the same time we had a war with France. And besides the sufferings in respect to the trade of the nation, it is most evident that the purse of the nation could not have been able much longer to bear it, by reason of the advantages taken by other states to improve their own, and spoil our manufacture of cloth, and hinder the vent thereof; which is the great staple commodity of this nation. Such was our condition: spoiled in our trade, and we at this vast expense; thus dissettled at home, and having these engagements abroad.

Things being so,—and I am persuaded it is not hard to convince every person here they were so,—what a heap of confusions were upon these poor nations! And either things must have been left to sink into the miseries these premises would suppose, or else a remedy must be applied. A remedy hath been applied: that hath been this government; a thing I shall say little unto. The thing is open and visible to be seen and read by all men; and therefore let it speak for itself. Only let me say this,—because I can speak it with comfort and confidence before a Greater than you all: That in the intention of it, as to the approving of our hearts to God, let men judge as they please, it was calculated with our best wisdom for the interest of the people,—for the interest of the people alone, and for their good, without respect had to any other interest. And if that be not true I shall be bold to say again, Let it speak for itself. Truly I may—I hope, humbly before God, and modestly before you—say somewhat on the behalf of the government. Not that I would discourse of the particular heads of it, but acquaint you a little with the effects it has had: and this not for ostentation’s sake, but to the end I may at this time deal faithfully with you, and acquaint you with the state of things, and what proceedings have been entered into by this government, and what the state of our affairs is. This is the main end of my putting you to this trouble.

The government hath had some things in desire; and it hath done some things actually. It hath desired to reform the laws. I say to reform them: and for that end it hath called together persons—without offense be it spoken—of as great ability and as great interest as are in these nations, to consider how the laws might be made plain and short and less chargeable to the people; how to lessen expense for the good of the nation. And those things are in preparation, and bills prepared, which in due time, I make no question, will be tendered to you. In the meanwhile there hath been care taken to put the administration of the laws into the hands of just men; men of the most known integrity and ability. The Chancery hath been reformed—hath been reformed, I hope, to the satisfaction of all good men: and as for the things, or causes, depending there, which made the burden and work of the honorable persons entrusted in those services too heavy for their ability, it hath referred many of them to those places where Englishmen love to have their rights tried, the courts of law at Westminster.

This government hath, farther, endeavored to put a stop to that heady way (likewise touched of in our sermon this day) of every man making himself a minister and preacher. It hath endeavored to settle a method for the approving and sanctioning of men of piety and ability to discharge that work. And I think I may say it hath committed the business to the trust of persons, both of the Presbyterian and Independent judgments, of as known ability, piety, and integrity as any, I believe this nation hath. And I believe also that, in that care they have taken, they have labored to approve themselves to Christ, to the nation and to their own consciences. And indeed I think, if there be anything of quarrel against them,—though I am not here to justify the proceedings of any,—it is that they, in fact, go upon such a character as the Scripture warrants: To put men into that great employment, and to approve men for it, who are men that have “received gifts from Him that ascended up on high, and gave gifts” for the work of the ministry and for the edifying of the body of Christ. The government hath also taken care, we hope, for the expulsion of all those who may be judged any way unfit for this work; who are scandalous, and the common scorn and contempt of that function.

One thing more this government hath done: it hath been instrumental to call a free Parliament, which, blessed be God, we see here this day! I say, a free Parliament. And that it may continue so, I hope is in the heart and spirit of every good man in England, save such discontented persons as I have formerly mentioned. It is that which, as I have desired above my life, so I shall desire to keep it above my life.

I did before mention to you the plunges we were in with respect to foreign States; by the war with Portugal, France, the Dutch, the Danes, and the little assurance we had from any of our neighbors round about. I perhaps forgot, but indeed it was a caution upon my mind, and I desire now it may be so understood, that if any good hath been done, it was the Lord, not we, His poor instruments.

I did instance the wars, which did exhaust your treasure, and put you into such a condition that you must have sunk therein if it had continued but a few months longer: this I can affirm, if strong probability may be a fit ground. And now you have, though it be not the first in time, peace with Swede-land; an honorable peace; through the endeavors of an honorable person here present as the instrument. I say you have an honorable peace with a kingdom which, not many years since, was much a friend to France, and lately perhaps inclinable enough to the Spaniard. And I believe you expect not much good from any of your Catholic neighbors; nor yet that they would be very willing you should have a good understanding with your Protestant friends. Yet, thanks be to God, that peace is concluded; and as I said before, it is an honorable peace.

You have a peace with the Danes—a State that lay contiguous to that part of this island which hath given us the most trouble. And certainly if your enemies abroad be able to annoy you, it is likely they will take their advantage (where it best lies) to give you trouble from that country. But you have a peace there, and an honorable one. Satisfaction to your merchants’ ships; not only to their content, but to their rejoicing. I believe you will easily know it is so,—an honorable peace. You have the Sound open; which used to be obstructed. That which was and is the strength of this nation, the shipping, will now be supplied thence. And whereas you were glad to have anything of that kind at second hand, you have now all manner of commerce there, and at as much freedom as the Dutch themselves, who used to be the carriers and venders of it to us; and at the same rates and tolls; and I think, by that peace, the said rates now fixed upon can not be raised to you in future.

You have a peace likewise with the crown of Portugal; which peace, though it hung long in hand, yet is lately concluded. It is a peace which, your merchants make us believe, is of good concernment to their trade; the rate of insurance to that country having been higher, and so the profit which could bear such rate, than to other places. And one thing hath been obtained in this treaty which never before was since the Inquisition was set up here,—that our people which trade thither have liberty of conscience,—liberty to worship in chapels of their own.

Indeed, peace is, as you were well told today, desirable with all men, as far as it may be had with conscience and honor! We are upon a treaty with France. And we may say this, that if God give us honor in the eyes of the nations about us, we have reason to bless Him for it, and so to own it. And I dare say that there is not a nation in Europe but is very willing to ask a good understanding with you.

I am sorry I am thus tedious: but I did judge that it was somewhat necessary to acquaint you with these things. And things being so, I hope you will not be unwilling to hear a little again of the sharp as well as of the sweet! And I should not be faithful to you, nor to the interest of these nations which you and I serve, if I did not let you know all.

As I said before, when this government was undertaken, we were in the midst of those domestic diversions and animosities and scatterings; engaged also with those foreign enemies round about us at such a vast charge—£120,000 a month for the very fleet, which sum was the very utmost penny of your assessments. Aye; and then all your treasure was exhausted and spent when this government was undertaken: all accidental ways of bringing in treasure were, to a very inconsiderable sum, consumed,—the forfeited lands sold; the sums on hand spent; rents, fee-farms, delinquents’ lands, king’s, queen’s, bishops’, dean-and-chapters’ lands, sold. These were spent when this government was undertaken. I think it is my duty to let you know so much. And that is the reason why the taxes do yet lie so heavy upon the people—of which we have abated £30,000 a month for the next three months. Truly I thought it my duty to let you know, that though God hath dealt thus bountifully with you, yet these are but entrances and doors of hope, whereby, through the blessing of God, you may enter into rest and peace. But you are not yet entered!

You were told to-day of a people brought out of Egypt toward the land of Canaan; but through unbelief, murmuring, repining, and other temptations and sins wherewith God was provoked, they were fain to come back again, and linger many years in the wilderness before they came to the place of rest. We are thus far, through the mercy of God. We have cause to take notice of it that we are not brought into misery, not totally wrecked, but have, as I said before, a door of hope open. And I may say this to you: If the Lord’s blessing and His presence go along with the management of affairs at this meeting, you will be enabled to put the top-stone to the work and make the nation happy. But this must be by knowing the true state of affairs! You are yet like the people under circumcision, but raw. Your peaces are but newly made. And it is a maxim not to be despised, “Though peace be made, yet it is interest that keeps peace”;—and I hope you will not trust such peace except so far as you see interest upon it. But all settlement grows stronger by mere continuance. And therefore I wish that you may go forward and not backward; and in brief that you may have the blessing of God upon your endeavors! It is one of the great ends of calling this Parliament that the ship of the commonwealth may be brought into a safe harbor; which, I assure you, it will not be, without your counsel and advice.

You have great works upon your hands. You have Ireland to look unto. There is not much done to the planting thereof, though some things leading and preparing for it are. It is a great business to settle the government of that nation upon fit terms, such as will bear that work through. You have had laid before you some considerations intimating your peace with several foreign states. But yet you have not made peace with all. And if they should see we do not manage our affairs with that wisdom which becomes us,—truly we may sink under disadvantages, for all that is done. And our enemies will have their eyes open, and be revived, if they see animosities among us; which indeed will be their great advantage.

I do therefore persuade you to a sweet, gracious, and holy understanding of one another and of your business, concerning which you had so good counsel this day; which as it rejoiced my heart to hear, so I hope the Lord will imprint it upon your spirits,—wherein you shall have my prayers.

Having said this, and perhaps omitted many other material things through the frailty of my memory, I shall exercise plainness and freeness with you; and say that I have not spoken these things as one who assumes to himself dominion over you; but as one who doth resolve to be a fellow servant with you to the interest of these great affairs and of the people of these nations. I shall trouble you no longer; but desire you to repair to your House, and to exercise your own liberty in the choice of a Speaker, that so you may lose no time in carrying on your work.

Note: Delivered on September 4, 1654, Cromwell having been installed as Lord Protector on December 16th of the previous year. Meanwhile, with Parliament in abeyance, the creative period in Cromwell’s government had been begun, but the duration of his policy, foreign as well as domestic, depended on its acceptance by the nation as represented in the new Parliament.
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