nominious death would be too much to threaten every honest shipwright with, for what may happen in the necessary work of his calling.

But, as I think punishment necessary for so heinous an offence, and, as the end of all punishment is example; of the two modes of punishment, I shall prefer that which is most profitable in point of example. Allowing then the punishment of death its utmost force, it is only short and momentary; that of labour, permanent ; and so much example is gained in him who is reserved for labour, more than in him who is put to death, as there are hours in the life of the one, beyond the short moment of the other's death.

My lords, I most chearfully agree with the first paragraph of the address moved by the noble lord. I would even go and prostrate myself at the foot of the throne, were it necessary, to testify my joy at any event which may promise to add to the domestic felicity of my sovereign; at any thing, which may seem to give a further security to the permanent enjoyment of the religious and civil rights of my fellow subjects; but while I do this, I must at the same time express my strongest disapprobation of the address, and the fatal measures which it approves. My lords, it was customary for the king, on similar oc casions, not to lead parliament, but to be guided by it. It was usual, I say, my lords, to ask the advice of this house, the hereditary great council of the nation, not to dictate to it. My lords, what does this speech say? It tells you of measures already agreed upon, and very cavalierly desires your concurrence. It, indeed, talks

of wisdom and support; it counts on the certainty of events yet in the womb of time; but in point of plan and design, it is peremptory and dictatorial. Is this a a proper language, fit to be endured? Is this high pretention to over-rule the dispositions of Providence itself, and the will and judgment of parliament, justi. fied by any former conduct or precedent? No, my lords, it is the language of an ill-founded confidence: a confidence, my lords, I will be bold to say, supported hitherto only by a succession of disappointments, disgraces, and defeats. I am astonished how any minister dare advise his majesty to hold such a language to your lordships: I would be glad to see the minister that dare avow it in his place. What is the import of this extraordinary application? What, but an unlimited confidence in those who have hitherto misguided, deceived, and misled you ? It is, I maintain, unlimited: it desires you to grant not what you may be satisfied is necessary, but what his majesty's ministers may choose to think so; troops, fleets, treaties, and subsidies, not yet revealed. Should your lordships agree to the present address, you will stand pledged to all this; you cannot retreat; it binds you to the consequences, be they what they may. My lords, whoever gave this pernicious counsel to the king ought to be made answerable to this house, and to the nation at large for the consequences: the precedent is dangerous and unconstitutional. Who, I say, has had the temerity to tell the king that his affairs are in a pros perous condition? and who, of course, is the author of those assurances which are this day given you, in order to mislead you? My lords, what is the present state of this nation? It is big with difficulty and danger; it is full of the most destructive circumstances: I say, my lords, it is truly perilous. What are these little islands, Great Britain and Ireland? What is your defence? Nothing. What is the condition of your formidable and inveterate enemies, the two leading branches of the house of Bourbon? They have a formidable navy: I

say, my lords, their intentions are hostile: I know it: their coasts are lined with troops, from the furthermost part of the coast of Spain up to Dunkirk. What have you to oppose them? Not five thousand men in this island; nor more in Ireland; nor above twenty ships of the line manned and fit for service. My lords, without peace, without an immediate restoration of tranquillity, this nation is ruined. What has been the conduct of your ministers? How have they endeavoured to conciliate the affection and obedience of their American brethren? They have gone to Germany; they have sought the alliance and assistance of every pitiful, beggarly, insignifi cant, paltry German prince, to cut the throats of their loyal, brave, and injured brethren in America; they have entered into mercenary treaties with those human butchers, for the purchase and sale of human blood. But, my lords, this is not all; they have entered into other treaties; they have let the savages of America loose upon their innocent, unoffending brethren,-loose upon the weak, the aged, and defenceless; on old men, women, and children; upon the very babes upon the breast, to be cut, mangled, sacrificed, broiled, roasted, nay, to be literally eat alive. These, my lords, are the allies Great Britain now has: carnage, desolation, and destruction, wherever her arms are carried, is her newly adopted mode of making war.* Our ministers have made alliances at the German shambles, and with the barbarians of America; with the merciless tortures of their species: where they will next apply, I cannot tell : for my part, I should not be surprised if their next league was the king of the gypsies; having already scoured all Germany and America, to seek the assistance of cannibals and butchers. The arms of this country are disgraced, even in victory, as well as defeat. Is this

and at his heels,

Leash'd in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire,
Crouch for employment."-Henry V.

consistent, my lords, with any part of our former conduct? Was it by means like these we arrived at that pinnacle of fame and grandeur, which, while it esta blihsed our reputation in every quarter of the globe, gave the fullest testimony of our justice, mercy and national integrity? Was it by the tomahawk and scalping-knife that British valour and humanity became in a manner proverbial, and the triumphs of war and the eclat of conquest became but matters of secondary praise, when compared to those of national humanity, and national honour? Was it by setting loose the savages of America, to embrue their hands in the blood of our enemies, that the duties of the soldier, the citizen, and the man, came to be united? Is this honourable warfare, my lords? Does it correspond with the language of the poet?

"The pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war,
That makes ambition virtue."

THOMAS (LORD) LYTTLETON,

Succeeded his father in 1773. He was a young man of great talents, but very profligate in his manners. He died in 1779, at the age of 35.

On American Affairs.

He lamented the fate of general Burgoyne, on whom, as an officer and a man, he bestowed the highest encomiums, and wished, while the noble earl had been so profuse of his commendations, he had acted with more real candour, and not, as by the effect of the present motion, were it to be agreed to, called that unfortunate but able and brave officer's conduct in question, and exposed him in his absence to an enquiry in which it would be impossible to defend himself. He objected to the intelligence; said it could not come properly before the house. It was but rumour, and as such, was no solid foun

dation for a parliamentary enquiry. He avowed himself as good and genuine a whig as the noble earl. He had been bred in all the principles of whiggism from his earliest days, and should persevere in them to the end. He loved the principles of whiggism, as much as he despised those of anarchy and republicanism. But if the bare name of whig was all that was meant, he disdained the name. If an impatience under every species of constitutional government, if a resistance to legal restraint, if the abetting of rebels, was the test of modern whiggism, he begged leave to be excluded, as not one avowing or professing such doctrines. He would, indeed, much rather share the odium which had been unjustly cast upon another set of men, and be accounted a tory, in preference to a modern whig. His lordship then entered into a general consideration of the question of right between this country and America. He said the noble lords on the other side of the house had acknowledged the war to be popular. He was convinced it was, more than any other he ever recollected. The supremacy of this country was at stake. Shall we then forego all our just rights, rights, I will be bold to say, on which the very existence of this country depends, for a single check, when it is notorious that we have been victorious in every other quarter where our arms have been carried? Shall we crouch to America, because, allowing the fact to be true, we have met with one disaster? This was not the language of the noble lord heretofore. He once rescued this country from impending ruin; and I call upon the noble lord to declare, if he was now at the head of his majes ty's counsels, would he despair? Would he advise this country to humiliate itself, and sue for peace to America? or if he was of that opinion, does he think that America would either accede to terms he thinks reasonable, or desist, even though we should declare her independent from farther pretensions? I know the noble earl too well to believe he could be so far deceived: look on the other effect of such a procedure. We humble ourselves to