not ignorant of all the examples of a similar nature furnished by the British annals, and even by his own reign." Never have such pretended examples had an existence; never has the king recognised the independence of a people who had thrown off the yoke of their lawful prince; and it is, undoubtedly, a melancholy fact, that the ministers of his most Christian Majesty should have abused the religion of their sovereign, to cover with so respectable a name assertions unfounded, improbable, and contradicted by the recollections of the whole of Europe.

At the commencement of the disputes between Great Britain and her colonies, the court of Versailles declared that it pretended not to be a judge of the quarrel; and its ignorance of the principles of the British constitution, as well as of the privileges and duties of the colonies, ought to have induced it steadily to persist in so wise and modest a declaration. It would then have spared itself the shame of transcribing the manifestoes of the American Congress, and pronouncing at the present moment "that the proceedings of the court of London forced these ancient colonies to have recourse to the use of arms, in order to maintain their rights, privileges, and liberty." These vain pretexts have already been refuted in the most convincing manner, and the rights of Great Britain over that revolted people, her beneficence, and her long patience, have already been proved by reason and facts. It is sufficient to remark here that France cannot reap any advantage from the injustice of which she accuses the court of London, without introducing into European jurisprudence maxims as novel as they are incorrect and dangerous; without supposing that the disputes which arise in the bosom of an independent and sovereign state, are subject to the jurisdiction of a foreign prince, and that that prince can summon to his tribunal his allies and their revolted subjects, and this in order to justify the conduct of a people that have thrown off the duties of lawful obedience. The ministers of the most Christian King will perhaps one day perceive that ambition has made them forgetful of the rights and interests of all sovereigns. The approbation which the court of Versailles has just given to the revolt of the English colonies would prohibit it from blaming the insurrection of its own subjects or those of Spain, in the new world, who would have much more powerful motives for following the same example were they not deterred by the view of the calamities into which those wretched colonies have precipitated themselves.

But France herself appears to perceive the weakness, danger, and indecorousness of these pretensions, and leaving the consideration of the right of independence, both in the declaration of the Marquis de Noailles and in the last manifesto, she is contented to maintain that these revolted colonies did in fact enjoy that independence which they had conferred upon themselves; that even England had in some sort recognised it herself, by allowing some acts to stand which appertained to sovereign power, and that thus France, without infringing on the peace, might conclude a treaty of friendship and commerce with the United States of North America. But the follow

ing is the manner in which Great Britain had recognised this independence equally imaginary both in right and in fact. Two years had not yet elapsed since the rebels had declared their criminal resolution of throwing off the authority of the mother country, and that period had been occupied by the events of an obstinate and sanguinary war. Success had been doubtful, but the king's army, which occupied the most important of the sea-port towns, still continued to threaten the interior provinces; the English flag reigned over all the American seas; and the re-establishment of their legitimate dependence was laid down as the indispensable condition of the peace offered by Great Britain to revolted subjects, whose rights, interests, and even prejudices she respected. The court of Versailles, which announces with so much "frankness and simplicity the treaty signed with these pretended States of America, had alone contributed to feed the flame of revolt by her clandestine assistance; and it was the fear of a peace that induced France to make use of the report of this alliance, as the most efficacious method of inflaming the minds of the people, who had already begun to open their eyes to the unfortunate consequences of the rebellion, the tyranny of their new chiefs, and the paternal dispositions of their rightful sovereign.

Under these circumstances, it is impossible to assert, without too grossly insulting reason and truth, that the declaration of the Marquis de Noailles, on the 13th of March in the past year, ought not to be taken as an actual declaration of war on the part of the most Christian King; and the assurances, "that he had taken final measures with the United States of America, to maintain the freedom of a commerce," that had so often excited the just remonstrances of Great Britain, authorised the king from that moment to reckon France among the number of his enemies. The court of Versailles cannot help noticing that the king of England, after recalling "his ambassador, had denounced his Majesty's proceeding to his parliament as an act of hostility, a formal and premeditated aggression." Such was, it is true, the declaration required from the king by honour and justice, and which he communicated without delay to all his ministers in the different courts of Europe, to justify beforehand the effects of a well warranted resentment. After this, it is very useless to search into the orders that were sent to the East Indies, to mark the precise day on which the fleet of England or of France issued from their respective ports, or to examine the circumstances of the engagement with the "Belle Poule," and the capture of the two frigates, which were actually carried off within sight of the coasts of France. From that time forward, the reproach they chose to throw at the king of having for so long a time delayed the formal declaration of war, vanished of itself. These declarations are only methods on which nations have mutually agreed in order to avoid treason and surprise; but the ceremonies that announce this terrible change from peace to war, the heralds, proclamations, and manifestoes, are never necessary, and are not always alike. The Marquis de Noailles' declaration was the signal

of the infringement of the public peace; the king immediately proclaimed to all nations that he accepted the war offered him by France; his majesty's last proceedings were the dictates of his prudence rather than of his justice, and Europe may now judge whether the court of London wanted "means of justifying a declaration of war, and did not dare publicly to accuse France of being the aggressor."

Since the alliance of France with the revolted colonies of America had been a manifest infraction of the peace, and a justifiable motive for war, the court of Versailles must naturally expect that on the first proposal of an accommodation between the two crowns, the king would on his part require that a proper satisfaction should be afforded him upon so important an object, and that France should renounce those connexions which had at first compelled his Majesty to take up arms. The affected surprise now testified by the ministers of the most Christian King at the firmness shown by the court of London, is quite conformable to the pride that dictated to them' conditions of peace which would scarcely have been warranted by the greatest successes; and the proposal they made to induce the king to withdraw his troops from America, and to recognise the independence of his revolted subjects, could not but excite his Majesty's astonishment and indignation. The little chance found by the court of Versailles of the realisation of so vain a hope, soon forced it to betake itself to another method; it proposed, through the intervention of the court of Madrid, a project of accommodation in a less offensive shape, but of an equally inadmissible nature. The Catholic King, with the consent of France, communicated to the king's ministers a proposal of a truce for several years, or rather a general and indefinite suspension of all hostilities, during which the revolted colonies, the pretended United States of North America, would be treated as de facto independent. The slightest reflection will suffice to show the insidious nature of this project, and justify the king's refusal in the eyes of Europe. Between sovereigns who, though at war, mutually recognise each other as such, long truces or suspensions of hostilities are the mild and salutary methods of smoothing the difficulties that obstruct the entire conclusion of a peace that may be put off, without disgrace or danger, till a more favourable moment. But in the domestic quarrel between Great Britain and her colonies, their independence, either de jure or de facto, is the very object in dispute; and the king's dignity will not allow him to accept of propositions which would, from the very first opening of the negotiation, accord to the American rebels all that would satisfy their ambition; while they require that his Majesty, without any stipulation in his favour, should for a long or indefinite period, desist from his most justifiable pretensions. It is true that the court of Versailles deigned to consent that the court of London should treat with the Congress either directly, or through the intervention of the king of Spain. His Majesty will not, most assuredly, degrade himself so far as to complain of that pride, which seems to grant him a favour in allowing him to negotiate directly with his

rebellious subjects; but if the Americans are not themselves blinded by passion and prejudice, they will plainly see, from the proceedings of France, that their new allies will soon become their tyrants; and that their pretended independence, bought at the expense of so many calamities and so much blood, will be subject to the despotic will of a foreign court.

If France could prove the reality of that eagerness which she attributes to the court of London in seeking the mediation of Spain, it would only serve to demonstrate the just confidence of the king in the goodness of his cause, and his esteem for a generous nation, which has always despised perfidy and fraud. But the court of London is obliged to acknowledge, that the mediation offered to it by the ministers of the Catholic King, had no other merit than that of showing, on all occasions, an earnest and sincere desire of delivering its subjects and even its enemies from the scourge of war. The conduct of the court of Madrid during this negotiation, speedily apprised the king that a mediator who forgot his own best interests, to yield himself up to the ambition and resentment of a foreign power, would be incapable of proposing a sure or honourable accommodation. Experience confirmed his suspicions. The unjust and inadmissible proposition that has just been exposed, was the only fruit of his mediation; and at the very time that the ministry of the Catholic King were, with the most disinterested professions, offering his capital, his good offices, and his guarantee, to facilitate the conclusion of the treaty, they let fresh subjects of discussion peep out from the depths of obscurity, which more particularly regarded Spain, but on which they always refused to come to an explanation. His Majesty's refusal to accede to the ultimatum of the court of Madrid, was accompanied by all due deference and regard; and if that court had not arrogated to itself the right of dictating conditions of peace to an independent and powerful neighbour, nothing would have taken place at that conjuncture to injure the harmony of the two crowns. But the offensive proceedings of Spain, which she was never able to disguise under the slightest appearance of equity, soon showed that her resolution was already taken, and that it had been inspired by the French ministry, who had retarded the open declaration of the court of Madrid, only in the hope of striking a mortal blow at the honour and interests of Great Britain, under the deceitful mask of friendship.

Such are the unjust and ambitious enemies, who have trodden under foot the faith of treaties, in order to violate public tranquillity, and against whom the king is now defending the rights of his crown and people. The event is yet in the hand of the Almighty; but his Majesty, trusting with a confident but humble assurance in the Divine protection, is persuaded that the inclinations of Europe will support the justice of his cause, and applaud the success of his arms, which have no object but the re-establishment of general repose on a solid and permanent basis.

713

A VINDICATION

OF

SOME PASSAGES IN THE FIFTEENTH AND SIXTEENTH CHAPTERS OF THE HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.

PERHAPS it may be necessary to inform the public, that not long since an Examination of the fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire was published by Mr. Davis. He styles himself a Bachelor of Arts, and a Member of Baliol College in the university of Oxford. His titlepage is a declaration of war; and in the prosecution of his religious crusade, he assumes a privilege of disregarding the ordinary laws which are respected in the most hostile transactions between civilised men or civilised nations. Some of the harshest epithets in the English language are repeatedly applied to the historian, a part of whose work Mr. Davis has chosen for the object of his criticism. To this author Mr. Davis imputes the crime of betraying the confidence and seducing the faith of those readers, who may heedlessly stray in the flowery paths of his diction, without_perceiving the poisonous snake that lurks concealed in the grass-Latet anguis in herba. The Examiner has assumed the province of reminding them of "the unfair proceedings of such an insidious friend, who offers the deadly draught in a golden cup, that they may be less sensible of the danger. In order to which Mr. Davis has selected several of the more notorious instances of his misrepresentations and errors; reducing them to their respective heads, and subjoining a long list of almost incredible inaccuracies: and such striking proofs of servile plagiarism, as the world will be surprised to meet with in an author who puts in so bold a claim to originality and extensive reading?" Mr. Davis prosecutes this attack through an octavo volume of not less than two hundred and eighty-four pages with the same implacable spirit; perpetually charges his adversary with perverting the ancients and transcribing the moderns; and, inconsistently enough, imputes to him the opposite crimes of art and carelessness, of gross ignorance and of wilful falsehood. The examiner closes his work with a severe reproof of those feeble critics who have allowed any share of knowledge to an odious antagonist. He presumes to pity and to condemn the first historian of the present age, for the generous approbation which he had bestowed on a writer, who is content that Mr. Davis should be his enemy, whilst he has a right to name Dr. Robertson for his friend.

When I delivered to the world the first volume of an important History, in which I had been obliged to connect the progress of

*Davis, preface, p. ii.

Ibid. p. 282, 283.

Ibid. preface, p. iii.