A LETTER ADDRESSED TO THE ABBE RAYNAL, ON THE

_AFFAIRS OF NORTH AMERICA_;

IN WHICH THE MISTAKES IN THE ABBE's ACCOUNT

OF THE

_REVOLUTION of AMREICA_ [_sic_]

ARE CORRECTED AND CLEARED UP. 

 * * * * *

BY THOMAS PAINE, SECRETARY FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS TO CONGRESS, DURING THE AMERICAN WAR, AND AUTHOR OF COMMON SENSE, AND THE RIGHTS OF MAN. 

 * * * * *

_LONDON_:

PRINTED FOR J. RIDGEWAY, NO. 1, YORK-STREET, ST. JAMES'S SQUARE. 

M, DCC, XII. [_sic_, actually 1792]

INTRODUCTION. 

A London translation of an original work in French, by the AbbeRaynal, which treats of the Revolution of North America, having beenreprinted in Philadelphia and other parts of the continent, and as thedistance at which the Abbe is placed from the American theatre of warand politics, has occasioned him to mistake several facts, ormisconceive the causes or principles by which they were produced; thefollowing tract, therefore, is published with a view to rectify them, and prevent even accidental errors intermixing with history, under thesanction of time and silence. 

The Editor of the London edition has entitled it, "The Revolution ofAmerica, by the Abbe Raynal, " and the American printers have followedthe example. But I have understood, and I believe my information just, that the piece, which is more properly reflections on the revolution, was unfairly purloined from the printer which the Abbe employed, orfrom the manuscript copy, and is only part of a larger work then inthe press, or preparing for it. The person who procured it appears tohave been an Englishman; and though, in an advertisement prefixt tothe London edition, he has endeavoured to gloss over the embezzlementwith professions of patriotism, and to soften it with high encomiumson the author, yet the action, in any view in which it can be placed, is illiberal and unpardonable. 

"In the course of his travels, " says he, "the translator happilysucceeded in obtaining a copy of this exquisite little piece, whichhas not yet made its appearance from any press. He publishes a Frenchedition, in favour of those who will feel its eloquent reasoning moreforcibly in its native language, at the same time with the followingtranslation of it; in which he has been desirous, perhaps in vain, that all the warmth, the grace, the strength, the dignity of theoriginal should not be lost. And he flatters himself, that theindulgence of the illustrious historian will not be wanting to a man, who, of his own motion, has taken the liberty to give this compositionto the public, only from a strong persuasion, that this momentousargument will be useful, in a critical conjecture, to that countrywhich he loves with an ardour that can be exceeded only by the noblerflame which burns in the bosom of the philanthropic author, for thefreedom and happiness of all the countries upon earth. "

This plausibility of setting off a dishonourable action, may pass forpatriotism and sound principles with those who do not enter into itsdemerits, and whose interest is not injured, nor their happinessaffected thereby. But it is more than probable, notwithstanding thedeclarations it contains, that the copy was obtained for the sake ofprofiting by the sale of a new and popular work, and that theprofessions are but a garb to the fraud. 

It may with propriety be remarked, that in all countries whereliterature is protected, and it never can flourish where it is not, the works of an author are his legal property; and to treat letters inany other light than this, is to banish them from the country, orstrangle them in the birth. --The embezzlement from the Abbe Raynalwas, it is true, committed by one country upon another, and thereforeshews no defect in the laws of either. But it is nevertheless a breachof civil manners and literary justice; neither can it be any apology, that because the countries are at war, literature shall be entitledto depredation. [1]

But the forestalling the Abbe's publication by London editions, bothin French and English, and thereby not only defrauding him, andthrowing an expensive publication on his hands, by anticipating thesale, are only the smaller injuries which such conduct may occasion. Aman's opinions, whether written or in thought, are his own until hepleases to publish them himself; and it is adding cruelty to injusticeto make him the author of what future reflection or better informationmight occasion him to suppress or amend. There are declarations andsentiments in the Abbe's piece, which, for my own part, I did notexpect to find, and such as himself, on a revisal, might have seenoccasion to change, but the anticipated piracy effectually preventedhim the opportunity, and precipitated him into difficulties, which, had it not been for such ungenerous fraud, might not have happened. 

This mode of making an author appear before his time, will appearstill more ungenerous, when we consider how exceedingly few men thereare in any country who can at once, and without the aid of reflectionand revisal, combine warm passions with a cool temper, and the fullexpansion of imagination with the natural and necessary gravity ofjudgment, so as to be rightly balanced within themselves, and to makea reader feel, and understand justly at the same time. To call threepowers of the mind into action at once, in a manner that neither shallinterrupt, and that each shall aid and vigorate the other, is a talentvery rarely possessed. 

It often happens, that the weight of an argument is lost by the wit ofsetting it off, or the judgment disordered by an intemperateirritation of the passions: yet a certain degree of animation must befelt by the writer, and raised in the reader, in order to interest theattention; and a sufficient scope given to the imagination, to enableit to create in the mind a sight of the persons, characters, andcircumstances of the subject; for without these, the judgment willfeel little or no excitement to office, and its determinations will becold, sluggish, and imperfect. But if either or both of the two formerare raised too high, or heated too much, the judgment will be jostledfrom his seat, and the whole matter, however important in itself, willdiminish into a pantomime of the mind, in which we create images thatpromote no other purpose than amusement. 

The Abbe's writings bear evident marks of that extension and rapidnessof thinking and quickness of sensation which of all others requirerevisal, and the more particularly so when applied to the livingcharacters of nations or individuals in a state of war. The leastmisinformation or misconception leads to some wrong conclusion and anerror believed becomes the progenitor of others. And as the Abbe hassuffered some inconveniences in France, by mistating certaincircumstances of the war and the characters of the parties therein, itbecomes some apology for him, that those errors were precipitated intothe world by the avarice of an ungenerous enemy. 

FOOTNOTE:

[1] The state of literature in America must one day become a subjectof legislative consideration. Hitherto it hath been a disinterestedvolunteer in the service of the revolution, and no man thought ofprofits: but when peace shall give time and opportunity for study, thecountry will deprive itself of the honour and service of letters andthe improvement of science, unless sufficient laws are made to preventdepredations on literary property. It is well worth remarking thatRussia, who but a few years ago was scarcely known in Europe, owes alarge share of her present greatness to the close attention she haspaid, and the wise encouragement she has given to science andlearning, and we have almost the same instance in France, in the reignof Lewis XIV. 

LETTER ADDRESSED TO THE ABBE RAYNAL

To an author of such distinguished reputation as the Abbe Raynal, itmight very well become me to apologize for the present undertaking;but as _to be right_ is the first wish of philosophy, and the firstprinciple of history, he will, I presume, accept from me a declarationof my motives, which are those of doing justice, in preference to anycomplimental apology, I might otherwise make. The Abbe, in the courseof his work, has, in some instances extolled, without a reason, andwounded without a cause. He has given fame where it was not deserved, and withheld it where it was justly due; and appears to be sofrequently in and out of temper with his subjects and parties, thatfew or none of them are decisively and uniformly marked. 

It is yet too soon to write the history of the revolution; and whoeverattempts it precipitately, will unavoidably mistake characters andcircumstances, and involve himself in error and difficulty. Thingslike men are seldom understood rightly at first sight. But the Abbe iswrong even in the foundation of his work; that is, he has misconceivedand misstated the causes which produced the rupture between Englandand her then colonies, and which led on, step by step, unstudied anduncontrived on the part of America, to a revolution, which has engagedthe attention, and affected the interest of Europe. 

To prove this, I shall bring forward a passage, which, though placedtowards the latter part of the Abbe's work, is more intimatelyconnected with the beginning: and in which, speaking of the originalcause of the dispute, he declares himself in the following manner--

"None, " says he, "of those energetic causes, which have produced somany revolutions upon the globe, existed in North-America. Neitherreligion nor laws had there been outraged. The blood of martyrs orpatriots had not there streamed from scaffolds. Morals had not therebeen insulted. Manners, customs, habits, no object dear to nations, had there been the sport of ridicule. Arbitrary power had not theretorn any inhabitant from the arms of his family and friends, to draghim to a dreary dungeon. Public order had not been there inverted. Theprinciples of administration had not been changed there; and themaxims of government had there always remained the same. The wholequestion was reduced to the knowing whether the mother country had, or, had not a right to lay, directly or indirectly, a slight tax uponthe colonies. "

On this extraordinary passage, it may not be improper, in generalterms, to remark, that none can feel like those who suffer; and thatfor a man to be a competent judge of the provocative, or, as the Abbestyles them, the energetic causes of the revolution, he must haveresided in America. 

The Abbe, in saying that the several particulars he has enumerated didnot exist in America, and neglecting to point out the particularperiod in which the means they did not exist, reduces thereby hisdeclaration to a nullity, by taking away all meaning from the passage. 

They did not exist in 1763, and they all existed before 1776;consequently as there was a time when they did _not_, and another whenthey _did_ exist, the _time when_ constitutes the essence of the fact;and not to give it, is to withhold the only evidence which proves thedeclaration right or wrong, and on which it must stand or fall. Butthe declaration as it now appears, unaccompanied by time, has aneffect in holding out to the world, that there was no real cause forthe revolution, because it denied the existence of all those causeswhich are supposed to be justifiable, and which the Abbe stylesenergetic. 

I confess myself exceedingly at a loss to find out the time to whichthe Abbe alludes; because, in another part of the work, in speaking ofthe stamp act, which was passed in 1764, he styles it "An _usurpation_of the Americans' _most precious and sacred rights_. " Consequently hehere admits the most energetic of all causes, that is, _an usurpationof their most precious and sacred rights_, to have existed in Americatwelve years before the declaration of independence, and ten yearsbefore the breaking out of hostilities. The time, therefore, in whichthe paragraph is true, must be antecedent to the stamp act, but as atthat time there was no revolution, nor any idea of one, itconsequently applies without a meaning; and as it cannot, on theAbbe's own principle, be applied to any time _after_ the stamp act, itis therefore a wandering, solitary paragraph connected with nothing, and at variance with every thing. 

The stamp act, it is true, was repealed two years after it was passed;but it was immediately followed by one of infinitely more mischievousmagnitude, I mean the declaratory act, which asserted the right, as itwas styled, of the British Parliament, "_to bind America in all caseswhatsoever_. "

If then, the stamp act was an usurpation of the Americans' mostprecious and sacred rights, the declaratory Act left them no rights atall; and contained the full grown seeds of the most despoticgovernment ever exercised in the world. It placed America not only inthe lowest, but in the basest state of vassalage; because it demandedan unconditional submission in everything, or, as the act expressedit, _in all cases whatsoever_: and what renders this act the moreoffensive, is, that it appears to have been passed as an act of mercy;truly then may it be said, that _the tender mercies of the wicked arecruel_. 

All the original charters from the Crown of England, under the faithof which, the adventurers from the old world settled in the new, wereby this act displaced from their foundations; because, contrary to thenature of them, which was that of a compact, they were now madesubject to repeal or alteration at the mere will of one party only. The whole condition of America was thus put into the hands of theParliament or the Ministry, without leaving to her the least right inany case whatsoever. 

There is no despotism to which this iniquitous law did not extend; andthough it might have been convenient in the execution of it, to haveconsulted manners and habits, the principle of the act made alltyranny legal. It stopt no where. It went to everything. It took inwith it the whole life of a man, or, if I may so express it, aneternity of circumstances. It is the nature of law to requireobedience, but this demanded servitude; and the condition of anAmerican, under the operation of it, was not that of a subject, but avassal. Tyranny has often been established _without_ law, andsometimes _against_ it, but the history of mankind does not produceanother instance, in which it has been established _by_ law. It is anaudacious outrage upon civil government, and cannot be too muchexposed, in order to be sufficiently detested. 

Neither could it be said after this, that the legislature of thatcountry any longer made laws for this, but that it gave out commands;for wherein differed an act of Parliament constructed on thisprinciple, and operating in this manner, over an unrepresented people, from the orders of a military establishment?

The Parliament of England, with respect to America, was not septennialbut _perpetual_. It appeared to the latter a body always in being. Itselection or expiration were to her the same, as if its memberssucceeded by inheritance, or went out by death, or lived for ever, orwere appointed to it as a matter of office. Therefore, for the peopleof England to have any just conception of the mind of America, respecting this extraordinary act, they must suppose all election andexpiration in that country to cease forever, and the presentParliament, its heirs, &c. , to be perpetual; in this case, I ask, whatwould the most clamorous of them think, were an act to be passed, declaring the right of _such a Parliament_ to bind _them_ in all caseswhatsoever? For this word _whatsoever_ would go as effectually totheir _Magna Charta, Bill of Rights, trial by Juries_, &c. As it wentto the charters and forms of government in America. 

I am persuaded, that the Gentleman to whom I address these remarkswill not, after the passing of this act, say, "That the _principles_of administration had not been _changed_ in America, and that themaxims of government had there been _always the same_. " For here is, in principle, a total overthrow of the whole; and not a subversiononly, but an annihilation of the foundation of liberty and absolutedominion established in its stead. 

The Abbe likewise states the case exceedingly wrong and injuriously, when he says, "that that _the whole_ question was reduced to theknowing whether the mother country had, or had not, a right to lay, directly or indirectly, a _slight_ tax upon the colonies. " This was_not the whole_ of the question; neither was the _quantity_ of the taxthe object, either to the Ministry, or to the Americans. It was theprinciple, of which the tax made but a part, and the quantity stillless, that formed the ground on which America opposed. 

The tax on tea, which is the tax here alluded to, was neither more orless than an experiment to establish the practice of a declaratory lawupon; modelled into the more fashionable phrase _of the universalsupremacy of Parliament_. For until this time the declaratory law hadlain dormant, and the framers of it had contented themselves withbarely declaring an opinion. 

Therefore the _whole_ question with America, in the opening of thedispute, was, Shall we be bound in all cases whatsoever by the BritishParliament, or shall we not? For submission to the tea or tax act, implied an acknowledgment of the declaratory act, or, in other words, of the universal supremacy of Parliament, which as they never intendedto do, it was necessary they should oppose it, in its first stage ofexecution. 

It is probable, the Abbe has been led into this mistake by perusingdetached pieces in some of the American newspapers; for, in a casewhere all were interested, everyone had a right to give his opinion;and there were many who, with the best intentions, did not chuse thebest, nor indeed the true ground, to defend their cause upon. Theyfelt themselves right by a general impulse, without being able toseparate, analyze, and arrange the parts. 

I am somewhat unwilling to examine too minutely into the whole of thisextraordinary passage of the Abbe, lest I should appear to treat itwith severity; otherwise I could shew, that not a single declarationis justly founded; for instance, the reviving an obsolete act of thereign of Henry the Eighth, and fitting it to the Americans, byauthority of which they were to be seized and brought from America toEngland, and there imprisoned and tried for any supposed offenses, was, in the worse sense of the words, _to tear them by the arbitrarypower of Parliament, from the arms of their families and friends, anddrag them not only to dreary but distant dungeons_. Yet this act wascontrived some years before the breaking out of hostilities. Andagain, though the blood of martyrs and patriots had not streamed onthe scaffolds, it streamed in the streets, in the massacre of theinhabitants of Boston, by the British soldiery in the year 1770. 

Had the Abbe said that the causes which produced the revolution inAmerica were originally _different_ from those which producedrevolutions in other parts of the globe, he had been right. Here thevalue and quality of liberty, the nature of government, and thedignity of man, were known and understood, and the attachment of theAmericans to these principles produced the revolution, as a naturaland almost unavoidable consequence. They had no particular family toset up or pull down. Nothing of personality was incorporated withtheir cause. They started even-handed with each other, and went nofaster into the several stages of it, than they were driven by theunrelenting and imperious conduct of Britain. Nay, in the last act, the declaration of independence, they had nearly been too late; forhad it not been declared at the exact time it was, I saw no period intheir affairs since, in which it could have been declared with thesame effect, and probably not at all. 

But the object being formed before the reverse of fortune took place, that is, before the operations of the gloomy campaign of 1776, theirhonour, their interest, their everything, called loudly on them tomaintain it; and that glow of thought and energy of heart, which evendistant prospect of independence inspires, gave confidence to theirhopes, and resolution to their conduct, which a state of dependencecould never have reached. They looked forward to happier days andscenes of rest, and qualified the hardships of the campaign bycontemplating the establishment of their new-born system. 

If, on the other hand, we take a review of what part great Britain hasacted, we shall find every thing which ought to make a nation blush. The most vulgar abuse, accompanied by that species of haughtinesswhich distinguishes the hero of a mob from the character of agentleman; it was equally as much from her manners as from herinjustice that she lost the colonies. By the latter she provoked theirprinciples, by the former she wore out their temper; and it ought tobe held out as an example to the world, to shew how necessary it is toconduct the business of government with civility. In short, otherrevolutions may have originated in caprice, or generated in ambition, but here, the most unoffending humility was tortured into rage, andthe infancy of existence made to weep. 

A union so extensive, continued and determined, suffering withpatience, and never in despair, could not have been produced by commoncauses. It must be something capable of reaching the whole soul of manand arming it with perpetual energy. In vain it is to look forprecedents among the revolutions of former ages, to find out, bycomparison, the causes of this. The spring, the progress, the object, the consequences, nay the men, their habits of thinking, and all thecircumstances of the country, are different. Those of other nationsare, in general, little more than the history of their quarrels. Theyare marked by no important character in the annals of events; mixt inthe mass of general matters, they occupy but a common page; and whilethe chief of the successful partizans stept into power, the plunderedmultitude sat down and sorrowed. Few, very few of them are accompaniedwith reformation, either in government or manners; many of them withthe most consummate profligacy. --Triumph on the one side, and miseryon the other, were the only events. Pains, punishments, torture, anddeath, were made the business of mankind, until compassion, thefairest associate of the heart, was driven from its place; and theeye, accustomed to continual cruelty, could behold it without offence. 

But as the principles of the present resolution differed from thosewhich preceded it, so likewise has the conduct of America, both ingovernment and war. Neither the foul finger of disgrace, nor thebloody hand of vengeance has hitherto put a blot upon her fame. Hervictories have received lustre from a greatness of lenity; and herlaws been permitted to slumber, where they might justly have awakenedto punish. War, so much the trade of the world, has here been only thebusiness of necessity; and when the necessity shall cease, her veryenemies must confess, that as she drew the sword in her just defence, she used it without cruelty, and sheathed it without revenge. 

As it is not my design to extend these remarks to a history, I shallnow take my leave of this passage of the Abbe, with an observation, which, until something unfolds itself to convince me otherwise, Icannot avoid believing to be true;--which is, that it was the fixtdetermination of the British Cabinet to quarrel with America at allevents. 

They (the members who compose the cabinet) had no doubt of success, ifthey could once bring it to the issue of a battle; and they expectedfrom a conquest, what they could neither propose with decency, norhope for by negociation. The charters and constitutions of thecolonies were become to them matters of offence, and their rapidprogress in property and population were disgustingly beheld as thegrowing and natural means of independence. They saw no way to retainthem long but by reducing them time. A conquest would at once havemade them both lords and landlords, and put them in the possessionboth of the revenue and the rental. The whole trouble of governmentwould have ceased in a victory, and a final end put to remonstranceand debate. The experience of the stamp act had taught them how toquarrel with the advantages of cover and convenience, and they hadnothing to do but to renew the scene, and put contention into motion. They hoped for a rebellion, and they made one. They expected adeclaration of independence, and they were not disappointed. But afterthis, they looked for victory, and obtained a defeat. 

If this be taken as the generating cause of the contest, then is everypart of the conduct of the British ministry consistent, from thecommencement of the dispute, until the signing the treaty of Paris, after which, conquest becoming doubtful, they retreated tonegociation, and were again defeated. 

Though the Abbe possesses and displays great powers of genius, and isa master of style and language, he seems not to pay equal attention tothe office of an historian. His facts are coldly and carelesslystated. They neither inform the reader, nor interest him. Many of themare erroneous, and most of them defective and obscure. It isundoubtedly both an ornament, and a useful addition to history, toaccompany it with maxims and reflections. They afford likewise anagreeable change to the style, and a more diversified manner ofexpression; but it is absolutely necessary that the root from whencethey spring, or the foundations on which they are raised, should bewell attended to, which in this work they are not. The Abbe hastensthrough his narrations, as if he was glad to get from them, that hemay enter the more copious field of eloquence and imagination. 

The actions of Trenton and Princeton, in New Jersey, in December 1776, and January following, on which the fate of America stood for a whiletrembling on the point of suspence, and from which the most importantconsequences followed, are comprised within a single paragraph, faintly conceived, and barren of character, circumstance anddescription. 

"On the 25th of December, " says the Abbe, "they (the Americans)crossed the Delaware, and fell _accidentally_ upon Trenton, which wasoccupied by fifteen hundred of the twelve thousand Hessians, sold inso base a manner by their avaricious master, to the King of GreatBritain. This corps was _massacred_, taken, or dispersed. Eight daysafter, three English regiments were in like manner driven fromPrinceton; but after having better supported their reputation than theforeign troops in their pay. "

This is all the account which is given of these most interestingevents. The Abbe has preceded them by two or three pages, on themilitary operations of both armies, from the time of General Howearriving before New York from Halifax, and the vast reinforcements ofBritish and foreign troops with Lord Howe from England. But in thesethere is so much mistake, and so many omissions, that to set themright, must be the business of history, and not of a letter. Theaction of Long Island is but barely hinted at; and the operations atthe White Plains wholly omitted: as are likewise the attack and lossof Fort Washington, with a garrison of about two thousand five hundredmen, and the precipitate evacuation of Fort Lee, in consequencethereof; which losses were in a great measure the cause of the retreatthrough the Jersies to the Delaware, a distance of about ninety miles. Neither is the manner of the retreat described, which, from the seasonof the year, the nature of the country, the nearness of the two armies(sometimes within sight and shot of each other for such a length ofway), the rear of the one employed in pulling down bridges, and thevan of the other in building them up, must necessarily be accompaniedwith many interesting circumstances. 

It was a period of distresses. A crisis rather of danger than ofhope, there is no description can do it justice; and even the actorsin it, looking back upon the scene, are surprised how they gotthrough; and at a loss to account for those powers of the mind andsprings of animation, by which they withstood the force of accumulatedmisfortune. 

It was expected, that the time for which the army was enlisted, wouldcarry the campaign so far into the winter, that the severity of theseason, and the consequent condition of the roads, would prevent anymaterial operation of the enemy, until the new army could be raisedfor the next year. And I mention it, as a matter worthy of attentionby all future historians, that the movements of the American army, until the attack upon the Hessian post at Trenton, the 26th ofDecember, are to be considered as operating to effect no otherprincipal purpose than delay, and to wear away the campaign under allthe disadvantages of an unequal force, with as little misfortune aspossible. 

But the loss of the garrison at Fort Washington, on the 16th ofNovember, and the expiration of the time of a considerable part of thearmy, so early as the 30th of the same month, and which were to befollowed by almost daily expirations afterwards, made retreat the onlyfinal expedient. To these circumstances may be added the forlorn anddestitute condition of the few that remained; for the garrison at FortLee, which composed almost the whole of the retreat, had been obligedto abandon it so instantaneously, that every article of stores andbaggage was left behind, and in this destitute condition, without tentor blanket, and without any other utensils to dress their provisionthan what they procured by the way, they performed a march of aboutninety miles, and had the address and management to prolong it to thespace of nineteen days. 

By this unexpected, or rather unthought of turn of affairs, thecountry was in an instant surprised into confusion, and found an enemywithin its bowels, without any army to oppose him. There were nosuccours to be had, but from the free-will offering of theinhabitants. All was choice, and every man reasoned for himself. 

It was in this situation of affairs, equally calculated to confound orto inspire, that the gentleman, the merchant, the farmer, thetradesman and the labourer, mutually turned out from all theconveniencies of home, to perform the duties of private soldiers, andundergo the severities of a winter campaign. The delay, so judiciouslycontrived on the retreat, afforded time for the volunteerreinforcements to join General Washington on the Delaware. 

The Abbe is likewise wrong in saying, that the American army fell_accidentally_ on Trenton. It was the very object for which GeneralWashington crossed the Delaware in the dead of night, in the midst ofsnow, storms, and ice: and which he immediately re-crossed with hisprisoners, as soon as he had accomplished his purpose. Neither was theintended enterprise a secret to the enemy, imformation [_sic_] havingbeen sent of it by letter, from a British Officer at Princeton, toColonel Rolle, who commanded the Hessians at Trenton, which letter wasafterwards found by the Americans. Nevertheless the post wascompletely surprised. A small circumstance, which had the appearanceof mistake on the part of the Americans, led to a more capital andreal mistake on the part of Rolle. 

The case was this: A detachment of twenty or thirty Americans had beensent across the river from a post a few miles above, by an officerunacquainted with the intended attack; these were met by a body ofHessians on the night, to which the information pointed, which wasChristmas night, and repulsed. Nothing further appearing, and theHessians mistaking this for the advanced party, supposed theenterprize disconcerted, which at that time was not begun, and underthis idea returned to their quarters; so that, what might have raisedan alarm, and brought the Americans into an ambuscade, served to takeoff the force of an information, and promote the success of theenterprise. Soon after day-light General Washington entered the town, and after a little opposition made himself master of it, with upwardsof nine hundred prisoners. 

This combination of equivocal circumstances, falling within what theAbbe styles, "_the wide empire of chance_, " would have afforded a finefield for thought; and I wish, for the sake of that elegance ofreflection he is so capable of using, that he had known it. 

But the action of Princeton was accompanied by a still greaterembarrassment of matters, and followed by more extraordinaryconsequences. The Americans, by a happy stroke of generalship, in thisinstance, not only deranged and defeated all the plans of the British, in the intended moment of execution, but drew from their posts theenemy they were not able to drive, and obliged them to close thecampaign. As the circumstance is a curiosity in war, and not wellunderstood in Europe, I shall, as concisely as I can, relate theprincipal parts; they may serve to prevent future historians fromerror, and recover from forgetfulness a scene of magnificentfortitude. 

Immediately after the surprise of the Hessians at Trenton, GeneralWashington re-crossed the Delaware, which at this place is about threequarters of a mile over, and re-assumed his former post on thePennsylvania side. Trenton remained unoccupied, and the enemy wereposted at Princeton, twelve miles distant, on the road towardNew-York. The weather was now growing very severe, and as there werevery few houses near the shore where General Washington had taken hisstation, the greatest part of his army remained out in the woods andfields. These, with some other circumstances, induced the re-crossingthe Delaware and taking possession of Trenton. It was undoubtedly abold adventure, and carried with it the appearance of defiance, especially when we consider the panic-struck condition of the enemy onthe loss of the Hessian post. But in order to give a just idea of theaffair, it is necessary that I should describe the place. 

Trenton is situated on a rising ground, about three quarters of a miledistant from the Delaware, on the eastern or Jersey side; and is cutinto two divisions by a small creek or rivulet, sufficient to turn amill which is on it, after which it empties itself at nearly rightangles into the Delaware. The upper division, which is that to thenorth-east, contains about seventy or eighty houses, and the lowerabout forty of fifty. The ground on each side this creek, and on whichthe houses are, is likewise rising, and the two divisions present anagreeable prospect to each other, with the creek between, on whichthere is a small stone bridge of one arch. 

Scarcely had General Washington taken post here, and before theseveral parties of militia, out on detachments, or on their way, couldbe collected, than the British, leaving behind them a strong garrisonat Princeton, marched suddenly and entered Trenton at the upper ornorth-east quarter. A party of the Americans skirmished with theadvanced party of the British, to afford time for removing the storesand baggage, and withdrawing over the bridge. 

In a little time the British had possession of one half of the town, General Washington of the other; and the creek only separated the twoarmies. Nothing could be a more critical situation than this, and ifever the fate of America depended upon the event of a day, it was now. The Delaware was filling fast with large sheets of driving ice, andwas impassable, so that no retreat into Pennsylvania could beeffected, neither is it possible, in the face of an enemy, to pass ariver of such extent. The roads were broken and rugged with the frost, and the main road was occupied by the enemy. 

About four o'clock a party of the British approached the bridge, witha design to gain it, but were repulsed. They made no more attempts, though the creek itself is passable anywhere between the bridge andthe Delaware. It runs in a rugged, natural-made ditch, over which aperson may pass with little difficulty, the stream being rapid andshallow. Evening was now coming on, and the British, believing theyhad all the advantages they could wish for, and that they could usethem when they pleased, discontinued all further operations, and heldthemselves prepared to make the attack next morning. 

But the next morning produced a scene as elegant as it was unexpected. The British were under arms and ready to march to action, when one oftheir light-horse from Princeton came furiously down the street, withan account that General Washington had that morning attacked andcarried the British post at that place, and was proceeding on to seizethe magazine at Brunswick; on which the British, who were then on thepoint of making an assault on the evacuated camp of the Americans, wheeled about, and in a fit of consternation marched for Princeton. 

This retreat is one of those extraordinary circumstances, that infuture ages may probably pass for fable. For it will with difficultybe believed that two armies, on which such important consequencesdepended, should be crouded into so small a space as Trenton; and thatthe one, on the eve of an engagement, when every ear is supposed to beopen, and every watchfulness employed, should move completely from theground, with all its stores, baggage and artillery, unknown and evenunsuspected by the other. And so entirely were the British deceived, that when they heard the report of the cannon and small arms atPrinceton, they supposed it to be thunder, though in the depth ofwinter. 

General Washington, the better to cover and disguise his retreat fromTrenton, had ordered a line of fires to be lighted up in front of hiscamp. These not only served to give an appearance of going to rest, and continuing that deception, but they effectually concealed from theBritish whatever was acting behind them, for flame can no more be seenthrough than a wall, and in his situation, it may with some proprietybe said, they came a pillar of fire to the one army, and a pillar of acloud to the other: after this, by a circuitous march of abouteighteen miles, the Americans reached Princeton early in the morning. 

The number of prisoners taken were between two and three hundred, withwhich General Washington immediately set off. The van of the Britisharmy from Trenton, entered Princeton about an hour after the Americanshad left it, who, continuing their march for the remainder of the day, arrived in the evening at a convenient situation, wide of the mainroad to Brunswick, and about sixteen miles distant from Princeton. Butso wearied and exhausted were they, with the continual and unabatedservice and fatigue of two days and a night, from action to action, without shelter and almost without refreshment, that the bare andfrozen ground, with no other covering than the sky, became to them aplace of comfortable rest. By these two events, and with but littlecomparitive force to accomplish them, the Americans closed withadvantages a campaign, which but a few days before threatened thecountry with destruction. The British army, apprehensive for thesafety of their magazines at Brunswick, eighteen miles distant, marched immediately for that place, where they arrived late in theevening, and from which they made no attempts to move for nearly fivemonths. 

Having thus stated the principal outlines of these two mostinteresting actions, I shall now quit them, to put the Abbe right inhis misstated account of the debt and paper money of America, wherein, speaking of these matters, he says, "These ideal riches were rejected. The more the multiplication of themwas urged by want, the greater did their appreciation grow. TheCongress was indignant at the affronts given to its money, anddeclared all those to be traitors to their country, who should notreceive it as they would have received gold itself. 

"Did not this body know, that possessions are no more to be controuledthan feelings are? Did it not perceive, that in the present crisis, every rational man would be afraid of exposing his fortune? Did it notsee, that in the beginning of a Republic it permitted to itself theexercise of such acts of despotism as are unknown even in thecountries which are moulded to, and become familiar with servitude andoppression? Could it pretend that it did not punish a want ofconfidence with the pains which would have been scarcely merited byrevolt and treason? Of all this was the Congress well aware. But ithad no choice of means. Its despised and despicable scraps of paperwere actually thirty times below their original value, when more ofthem were ordered to be made. On the 13th of September 1779, there wasof this paper money, amongst the public, to the amount of£. 35, 544, 155. The State owed moreover £. 8, 305, 356, without reckoningthe particular debts of single Provinces. "

In the above-recited passages, the Abbe speaks as if the United Stateshad contracted a debt of upwards of forty million pounds sterling, besides the debts of individual States. After which, speaking offoreign trade with America, he says, that "those countries in Europe, which are truly commercial ones, knowing that North America had beenreduced to contract debts at the epoch even of her greatestprosperity, wisely thought, that in her present distress, she would beable to pay but very little, for what might be carried to her. "

I know it must be extremely difficult to make foreigners understandthe nature and circumstances of our paper money, because there arenatives who do not understand it themselves. But with us its fate isnow determined. Common consent has consigned it to rest with that kindof regard which the long service of inanimate things insensiblyobtains from mankind. Every stone in the bridge, that has carried usover, seems to have a claim upon our esteem. But this was acorner-stone, and its usefulness cannot be forgotten. There issomething in a grateful mind, which extends itself even to things thatcan neither be benefited by regard, nor suffer by neglect: But so itis; and almost every man is sensible of the effect. 

But to return. The paper money, though issued from Congress under thename of dollars, did not come from that body always at that value. Those which were issued the first year, were equal to gold and silver. The second year less; the third still less; and so on, for nearly thespace of five years; at the end of which, I imagine, that the wholevalue at which Congress might pay away the several emissions, takingthem together, was about ten or twelve millions pounds sterling. 

Now, as it would have taken ten or twelve millions sterling of taxes, to carry on the war for five years, and, as while this money wasissuing and likewise depreciating down to nothing, there were none, orvery few valuable taxes paid; consequently the event to the public wasthe same, whether they sunk ten or twelve millions of expended money, by depreciation, or paid ten or twelve millions by taxation; for asthey did not do both, and chose to do one, the matter, in a generalview, was indifferent. And therefore, what the Abbe supposes to be adebt, has now no existence; it having been paid, by every bodyconsenting to reduce it, at his own expence, from the value of thebills continually passing among themselves, a sum, equal to nearlywhat the expence of the war was for five years. 

Again. --The paper money having now ceased, and the depreciation withit, and gold and silver supplied its place, the war will now becarried on by taxation, which will draw from the public a considerableless sum than what the depreciation drew; but as, while they pay theformer, they do not suffer the latter, and as, when they suffered thelatter, they did not pay the former, the thing will be nearly equal, with this moral advantage, that taxation occasions frugality andthought, and depreciation produced dissipation and carelessness. 

And again. --If a man's portion of taxes comes to less than what helost by the depreciation, it proves the alteration is in his favour. If it comes to more, and he is justly assessed, it shews that he didnot sustain his proper share of depreciation, because the one was asoperatively his tax as the other. 

It is true, that it never was intended, neither was it foreseen, thatthe debt contained in the paper currency should sink itself in thismanner; but as by the voluntary conduct of all and of everyone it hasarrived at this fate, the debt is paid by those who owed it. Perhapsnothing was ever so much the act of a country as this. Government hadno hand in it. Every man depreciated his own money by his own consent, for such was the effect which the raising of the nominal value ofgoods produced. But as by such reduction he sustained a loss equal towhat he must have paid to sink it by taxation; therefore the line ofjustice is to consider his loss by the depreciation as his tax forthat time, and not to tax him when the war is over, to make that moneygood in any other person's hands, which became nothing in his own. 

Again. --The paper currency was issued for the express purpose ofcarrying on the war. It has performed that service, without any othermaterial change to the public, while it lasted. But to suppose, assome did, that at the end of the war, it was to grow into gold andsilver, or become equal thereto, was to suppose that we were to _get_two hundred millions of dollars by _going to war_, instead of _paying_the cost of carrying it on. 

But if any thing in the situation of America, as to her currency orher circumstances, yet remains not understood, then let it beremembered, that this war is the public's war; the people's war; thecountry's war. It is _their_ independence that is to be supported;_their_ property that is to be secured; _their_ country that is to besaved. Here, government, the army, and the people, are mutually andreciprocally one. In other wars, kings may lose their thrones andtheir dominions; but here, the loss must fall on the _majesty of themultitude_, and the property they are contending to save. Every manbeing sensible of this, he goes to the field, or pays his portion ofthe charge as the sovereign of his own possessions; and when he isconquered, a monarch falls. 

The remark which the Abbe, in the conclusion of the passage, has maderespecting America contracting debts in the time of her prosperity (bywhich he means, before the breaking out of hostilities), serves toshew, though he has not yet made the application, the very greatcommercial difference between a dependant and an independent country. In a state of dependence, and with a fettered commerce, though withall the advantages of peace, her trade could not balance herself, andshe annually run into debt. But now, in a state of independence, though involved in war, she requires no credit; her stores are full ofmerchandise, and gold and silver are become the currency of thecountry. How these things have established themselves, it is difficultto account for: but they are facts, and facts are more powerful thanarguments. 

As it is probable this letter will undergo a republication in Europe, the remarks here thrown together will serve to show the extreme follyof Britain, in resting her hopes of success on the extinction of ourpaper currency. The expectation is at once so childish and forlorn, that it places her in the laughable condition of a famished lionwatching for prey at a spider's web. 

From this account of the currency, the Abbe proceeds to state thecondition of America in the winter of 1777, and the spring following;and closes his observations with mentioning the treaty of alliance, which was signed in France, and the propositions of the Britishministry, which were rejected in America. But in the manner in whichthe Abbe has arranged his facts, there is a very material error, thatnot only he, but other European historians, have fallen into: none ofthem having assigned the true cause why the British proposals wererejected, and all of them have assigned a wrong one. 

In the winter of 1777, and spring following, Congress were assembledat York-Town, in Pennsylvania, the British were in possession ofPhiladelphia, and General Washington with the army were encamped inhuts at the Valley-Forge, twenty-five miles distant therefrom. To allwho can remember, it was a season of hardship, but not of despair; andthe Abbe, speaking of this period and its inconveniences, says, "A multitude of privations, added to so many other misfortunes, mightmake the Americans regret their former tranquillity, and incline themto an accommodation with England. In vain had the people been bound tothe new Government by the sacredness of oaths, and the influence ofreligion. In vain had endeavors been used to convince them, that itwas impossible to treat safely with a country in which one parliamentmight overturn what should have been established by another. In vainhad they been threatened with the eternal resentment of an exasperatedand vindictive enemy. It was possible that these distant troublesmight not be balanced by the weight of present evils. 

"So thought the British ministry when they sent to the New Worldpublic agents authorized to offer every thing except independence tothese very Americans, from whom they had two years before exacted anunconditional submission. It is not improbable, but that by this planof conciliation, a few months sooner, some effect might have beenproduced. But at the period at which it was proposed by the Court ofLondon, it was rejected with disdain, because this measure appearedbut as an argument of fear and weakness. The people were alreadyre-assured. The Congress, the Generals, the troops, the bold andskilful men in each colony, had possessed themselves of the authority;every thing had recovered its first spirit. _This was the effect of atreaty of friendship and commerce between the United States and theCourt of Versailles, signed the 8th of February, 1778. _"

On this passage of the Abbe's I cannot help remarking, that, to unitetime with circumstance, is a material nicety in history; the want ofwhich frequently throws it into endless confusion and mistake, occasions a total separation between causes and consequences, andconnects them with others they are not immediately, and sometimes notat all, related to. 

The Abbe, in saying that the offers of the British ministry "wererejected with disdain, " is _right_ as to the _fact_, but _wrong_ as tothe _time_; and this error in the time, has occasioned him to bemistaken in the cause. 

The signing the treaty of Paris the 6th of February, 1778, could haveno effect on the mind or politics of America, until it was _known inAmerica_; and therefore, when the Abbe says, that the rejection of theBritish offers was in consequence of the alliance, he must mean, thatit was in consequence of the alliance _being known_ in America; whichwas not the case: and by this mistake he not only takes from her thereputation, which her unshaken fortitude in that trying situationdeserves, but is likewise led very injuriously to suppose that had she_not known_ of the treaty, the offers would probably have beenaccepted; whereas she knew nothing of the treaty at the time of therejection, and consequently did not reject them on that ground. 

The propositions or offers above-mentioned, were contained in twobills brought into the British Parliament by Lord North, on the 17thof February, 1778. Those bills were hurried through both houses withunusual haste; and before they had gone through all the customaryforms of Parliament, copies of them were sent over to Lord Howe andGeneral Howe, then in Philadelphia, who were likewise Commissioners. General Howe ordered them to be printed in Philadelphia, and sentcopies of them by a flag to General Washington, to be forwarded toCongress at York-Town, where they arrived the 21st of April, 1778. Thus much for the arrival of the bills in America. 

Congress, as is their usual mode, appointed a committee from their ownbody, to examine them, and report thereon. The report was brought inthe next day (the twenty-second, ) was read, and unanimously agreed to, entered on their journals, and published for the information of thecountry. Now this report must be the rejection to which the Abbealludes, because Congress gave no other formal opinion on those billsand propositions: and on a subsequent application from the BritishCommissioners, dated the 27th of May, and received at York-Town the6th of June, Congress immediately referred them for an answer, totheir printed resolves of the 22d of April. --Thus much for therejection of the offers. 

On the 2d of May, that is, eleven days after the above rejection wasmade, the treaty between the United States and France arrived atYork-Town; and until this moment Congress had not the least notice oridea, that such a measure was in any train of execution. But lest thisdeclaration of mine should pass only for assertion, I shall support itby proof, for it is material to the character and principle of therevolution to shew, that no condition of America, since thedeclaration of independence, however trying and severe, ever operatedto produce the most distant idea of yielding it up either by force, distress, artifice, or persuasion. And this proof is the morenecessary, because it was the system of the British ministry at thistime, as well as before and since, to hold out to the European powersthat America was unfixt in her resolutions and policy; hoping by thisartifice to lessen her reputation in Europe, and weaken the confidencewhich those powers, or any of them, might be inclined to place in her. 

At the time these matters were transacting, I was Secretary to theForeign Department of Congress. All the political letters from theAmerican Commissioners rested in my hands, and all that wereofficially written went from my office; and so far from Congressknowing anything of the signing the treaty, at the time they rejectedthe British offers, they had not received a line of information fromtheir Commissioners at Paris on any subject whatever for upwards of atwelvemonth. Probably the loss of the port of Philadelphia, and thenavigation of the Delaware, together with the danger of the seas, covered at this time with British cruizers, contributed to thedisappointment. 

One packet, it is true, arrived at York-Town in January preceding, which was about three months before the arrival of the treaty; but, strange as it may appear, every letter had been taken out, before itwas put on board the vessel which brought it from France, and blankwhite paper put in their stead. 

Having thus stated the time when the proposals from the BritishCommissioners were first received, and likewise the time when thetreaty of alliance arrived, and shewn that the rejection of the formerwas eleven days prior to the arrival of the latter, and without theleast knowledge of such circumstance having taken place, or beingabout to take place; the rejection, therefore, must, and ought to beattributed to the fixt, unvaried sentiments of America respecting theenemy she is at war with, and her determination to support herindependence to the last possible effort, and not to any newcircumstance in her favour, which at that time she did not, and couldnot, know of. 

Besides, there is a vigor of determination and spirit of defiance inthe language of the rejection (which I here subjoin), which derivetheir greatest glory by appearing before the treaty was known; forthat, which is bravery in distress, becomes insult in prosperity: Andthe treaty placed America on such a strong foundation, that had shethen known it, the answer which she gave would have appeared rather asan air of triumph, than as the glowing serenity of fortitude. 

Upon the whole, the Abbe appears to have entirely mistaken the matter;for instead of attributing the rejection of the propositions to ourknowledge of the treaty of alliance; he should have attributed theorigin of them in the British cabinet, to their knowledge of thatevent. And then the reason why they were hurried over to America inthe state of bills, that is, before they were passed into acts, iseasily accounted for, which is that they might have the chance ofreaching America before any knowledge of the treaty should arrive, which they were lucky enough to do, and there met the fate they sorichly merited. That these bills were brought into the BritishParliament after the treaty with France was signed, is proved from thedates: the treaty being on the 6th and the bills the 17th of February. And that the signing the treaty was known in Parliament, when thebills were brought in, is likewise proved by a speech of Mr. CharlesFox, on the said 17th of February, who, in reply to Lord North, informed the House of the treaty being signed, and challenged theMinister's knowledge of the same fact. 

In CONGRESS, April 22d, 1778. 

"The Committee to whom was referred the General's Letter of the 18th, containing a certain printed paper sent from Philadelphia, purportingto be the draught of a Bill for declaring the _intentions_ of theParliament of Great Britain, as to the _exercise_ of what they arepleased to term their _right_ of imposing taxes within these UnitedStates; and also the draft of a Bill to enable the King ofGreat-Britain to appoint Commissioners, with powers to treat, consult, and agree upon the means of quieting certain disorders within the saidStates, beg leave to observe, "That the said paper being industriously circulated by emissaries ofthe enemy, in a partial and secret manner, the same ought to beforthwith printed for the public information. 

"The Committee cannot ascertain whether the contents of the said paperhave been framed in Philadelphia or in Great Britain, much lesswhether the same are really and truly intended to be brought into theParliament of that kingdom, or whether the said Parliament will conferthereon the usual solemnities of their laws. But are inclined tobelieve this will happen, for the following reasons:

"1st. Because their General hath made divers feeble efforts to set onfoot some kind of treaty during the last winter, though either from amistaken idea of his own dignity and importance, the want ofinformation, or some other cause, he hath not made application tothose who are invested with a proper authority. 

"2dly. Because they suppose that the fallacious idea of a cessation ofhostilities will render these States remiss in their preparations forwar. 

"3dly. Because believing the Americans wearied with war, they supposewe will accede to the terms for the sake of peace. 

"4thly. Because they suppose that our negotiations may be subject to alike corrupt influence with their debates. 

"5thly. Because they expect from this step the same effects they didfrom what one of their ministers thought proper to call his_conciliatory motion_, viz. That it will prevent foreign powers fromgiving aid to these States; that it will lead their own subjects tocontinue a little longer the present war; and that it will detach someweak men in America from the cause of freedom and virtue. 

"6thly. Because their King, from his own shewing hath reason toapprehend that his fleets and armies, instead of being employedagainst the territories of these States, will be necessary for thedefence of his own dominions. And, "7thly. Because the impracticability of subjugating this country, being every day more and more manifest, it is their interest toextricate themselves from the war upon any terms. 

"The Committee beg leave further to observe, That, upon a supposition, the matters contained in the said paper will really go into theBritish Statute Book, they serve to shew, in a clear point of view, the weakness and wickedness of the enemy. 

"THEIR WEAKNESS, "1st. Because they formerly declared, not only that they had a rightto bind the inhabitants of these States in all cases whatsoever, butalso that the said inhabitants should _absolutely_ and_unconditionally_ submit to the exercise of that right. And thissubmission they have endeavored to exact by the sword. Receding fromthis claim, therefore, under the present circumstances, shews theirinability to enforce it. 

"2dly. Because their Prince had heretofore rejected the humblestpetitions of the Representatives of America, praying to be consideredas subjects, and protected in the enjoyment of peace, liberty, andsafety; and hath waged a most cruel war against them, and employed thesavages to butcher innocent women and children. But now the samePrince pretends to treat with those very Representatives, and grantto the _arms_ of America what he refused to her _prayers_. 

"3dly. Because they have uniformly laboured to conquer this Continent, rejecting every idea of accommodation proposed to them, from aconfidence in their own strength. Wherefore it is evident, from thechange in their mode of attack, that they have lost this confidence. And, "4thly. Because the constant language, spoken not only by theirMinisters, but by the most public and authentic acts of the nation, hath been, that it is incompatible with their dignity to treat withthe Americans while they have arms in their hands. Notwithstandingwhich, an offer is now about to be made for treaty. 

"The wickedness and insincerity of the enemy appear from the followingconsiderations:

"1st. Either the _Bills_ now to be passed contain a direct or indirectcession of a part of their former claims, or they do not. If they do, then it is acknowledged that they have sacrificed many brave men in anunjust quarrel. If they do not, then they are calculated to deceiveAmerica into terms, to which neither argument before the war, norforce since, could procure her assent. 

"2dly. The first of these _Bills_ appears, from the title, to be adeclaration of the _intentions_ of the British Parliament concerningthe exercise of the _right of imposing taxes_ within these States. Wherefore, should these States treat under the said Bill, they wouldindirectly acknowledge that right, to obtain which acknowledgment thepresent war has been avowedly undertaken and prosecuted, on the partof Great Britain. 

"3dly. Should such pretended right be so acquiesced in, then ofconsequence the same might be exercised whenever the BritishParliament should find themselves in a different _temper_ and_disposition_; since it must depend upon those, and such likecontingencies, how far men will act according to their former_intentions_. 

"4thly. The said first Bill, in the body thereof, containeth no newmatter, but is precisely the same with the motion before mentioned, and liable to all the objections which lay against the said motion, excepting the following particular, viz. That _by the motion_, actualtaxation was to be suspended, so long as America should give as muchas the said Parliament might think proper: whereas, _by the proposedBill_, it is to be suspended as long as future Parliaments continue ofthe same mind with the present. 

"5thly. From the second Bill it appears, that the British King may, ifhe pleases, appoint Commissioners to _treat_ and _agree_ with those, whom they please, about a variety of things therein mentioned. Butsuch treaties and agreements are to be of no validity without theconcurrence of the said Parliament, except so far as they relate tothe suspension of hostilities, and of certain of their acts, thegranting of pardons, and the appointment of Governors to thesesovereign, free, and independent States. Wherefore, the saidParliament have reserved to themselves, in _express words_, the powerof setting aside any such treaty, and taking the advantages of anycircumstances which may arise to subject this Continent to theirusurpations. 

"6thly, The said Bill, by holding forth a tender of pardon, implies acriminality in our justifiable resistance, and consequently, to treatunder it, would be an implied acknowledgment, that the inhabitants ofthese States were, what Britain had declared them to be, _Rebels_. 

"7thly. The inhabitants of these States being claimed by them assubjects, they may infer, from the nature of the negotiation nowpretended to be set on foot, that the said inhabitants would of rightbe afterwards bound by such laws as they should make. Wherefore, anyagreement entered into on such negociation might at any future time berepealed. And, "8thly. Because the said Bill purports, that the Commissioners thereinmentioned may treat with private individuals; a measure highlyderogatory to the dignity of the national character. 

"From all which it appears evident to your Committee, that the saidBills are intended to operate upon the hopes and fears of the goodpeople of these States, so as to create divisions among them, and adefection from the common cause, now by the blessing of DivineProvidence drawing near to a favourable issue. That they are thesequel of that insidious plan, which from the days of the Stamp-actdown to the present time, hath involved this country in contention andbloodshed. And that, as in other cases so in this, althoughcircumstances may force them at times to recede from the unjustifiableclaims, there can be no doubt but they will as heretofore, upon thefirst favourable occasion, again display that lust of domination, which hath rent in twain the mighty empire of Britain. 

"Upon the whole matter, the Committee beg leave to report it as theiropinion, that as the Americans united in this arduous contest uponprinciples of common interest, for the defence of common rights andprivileges, which union hath been cemented by common calamities, andby mutual good offices and and [_sic_] affection, so the great causefor which they contend, and in which all mankind are interested, mustderive its success from the continuance of that union. Wherefore anyman or body of men, who should presume to make any seperate or partialconvention or agreement with Commissioners under the Crown of GreatBritain, or any of them, ought to be considered and treated as openand avowed enemies of these United States. 

"And further your Committee beg leave to report it as their opinion, That these united States cannot, with propriety, hold any conferenceor treaty with _any_ Commissioners on the part of Great Britain, unless they shall, as a preliminary thereto, either withdraw theirfleets and admirals, or else, in positive and express terms, acknowledge the Independence of the said States. 

"And inasmuch as it appears to be the design of the enemies of theseStates to lull them into a fatal security--to the end that they mayact with a, becoming weight and importance, it is the opinion of yourCommittee That the several States be called upon to use the moststrenuous exertions to have their respective quotas of continentaltroops in the field as soon as possible, and that all the militia ofthe said States be held in readiness, to act as occasion may require. "

_The following is the answer of Congress to the second application ofthe Commissioners. _

 SIR, _York-Town, June 6, 1778. _

 "I HAVE had the honour of laying your letter of the 3d instant, with the acts of the British Parliament which came inclosed, before Congress; and I am instructed to acquaint you, Sir, that they have already expressed their sentiments upon bills, not essentially different from those acts, in a publication of the 22d of April last. 

 "Be assured, Sir, when the King of Great Britain shall be seriously disposed to put an end to the unprovoked and cruel war waged against these United States, Congress will readily attend to such terms of peace, as may consist with the honour of independent nations, the interest of their constituents, and the sacred regard they mean to pay to treaties. I have the honour to be, Sir, _Your most obedient, and most humble servant_, HENRY LAURENS, _President of Congress_. "

 _His Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton, K. B. , Philad_. 

Though I am not surprised to see the Abbe mistaken in matters ofhistory, acted at so great a distance from his sphere of immediateobservation, yet I am more than surprised to find him wrong, (or atleast what appears so to me) in the well-enlightened field ofphilosophical reflection. Here the materials are his own; created byhimself; and the error, therefore, is an act of the mind. Hitherto myremarks have been confined to circumstances: the order in which theyarose, and the events they produced. In these, my information beingbetter than the Abbe's, my task was easy. How I may succeed incontroverting matters of sentiment and opinion, with one whom years, experience, and long established reputation have placed in a superiorline, I am less confident in; but as they fall within the scope of myobservations, it would be improper to pass them over. 

From this part of the Abbe's work to the latter end, I find severalexpressions which appear to me to start, with a cynical complexion, from the path of liberal thinking, or at least they are so involved asto lose many of the beauties which distinguish other parts of theperformance. 

The Abbe having brought his work to the period when the treaty ofalliance between France and the United States commenced, proceeds tomake some remarks thereon. 

"In short, " says he, "philosophy, whose first sentiment is the desireto see all governments just, and all people happy, in casting her eyesupon this alliance of a monarchy, with a people who are defendingtheir liberty, _is curious to know its motive. She sees at once tooclearly, that the happiness of mankind has no part in it_. "

Whatever train of thinking or of temper the Abbe might be in, when hepenned this expression, matters not. They will neither qualify thesentiment, nor add to its defect. If right, it needs no apology; ifwrong, it merits no excuse. It is sent to the world as an opinion ofphilosophy, and may be examined without regard to the author. 

It seems to be a defect, connected with ingenuity, that it oftenemploys itself more in matters of curiosity than usefulness. Man mustbe the privy councillor of fate, or something is not right. He mustknow the springs, the whys, and wherefores of every thing, or he sitsdown unsatisfied. Whether this be a crime, or only a caprice ofhumanity, I am not enquiring into. I shall take the passage as I findit, and place my objections against it. 

It is not so properly the _motives_ which _produced_ the alliance, asthe _consequences_ which are to be _produced from it_, that mark outthe field of philosophical reflection. In the one we only penetrateinto the barren cave of secrecy, where little can be known, and everything may be misconceived; in the other, the mind is presented with awide extended prospect, of vegetative good, and sees a thousandblessings budding into existence. 

But the expression, even within the compass of the Abbe's meaning, sets out with an error, because it is made to declare that, which noman has authority to declare. Who can say that the happiness ofmankind made _no part of the motives_ which produced the alliance? Tobe able to declare this, a man must be possessed of the mind of allthe parties concerned, and know that their motives were somethingelse. 

In proportion as the independence of America became contemplated andunderstood, the local advantages of it to the immediate actors, andthe numerous benefits it promised to mankind, appear to be every dayencreasing, and we saw not a temporary good for the present race only, but a continued good to all posterity; these motives, therefore, addedto those which preceded them, became the motives, on the part ofAmerica, which led her to propose and agree to the treaty of alliance, as the best effectual method of extending and securing happiness; andtherefore, with respect to us, the Abbe is wrong. 

France, on the other hand, was situated very differently to America. She was not acted upon by necessity to seek a friend, and thereforeher motive in becoming one, has the strongest evidence of being good, and that which is so, must have some happiness for its object. Withregard to herself she saw a train of conveniencies worthy herattention. By lessening the power of an enemy, whom, at the sametime, she sought neither to destroy nor distress, she gained anadvantage without doing an evil, and created to herself a new friendby associating with a country in misfortune. The springs of thoughtthat lead to actions of this kind, however political they may be, arenevertheless naturally beneficent; for in all causes, good or bad, itis necessary there should be a fitness in the mind, to enable it toact in character with the object: Therefore, as a bad cause cannot beprosecuted with a good motive, so neither can a good cause be longsupported by a bad one, as no man acts without a motive; therefore, inthe present instance, as they cannot be bad, they must be admitted tobe good. But the Abbe sets out upon such an extended scale, that heoverlooks the degrees by which it is measured, and rejects thebeginning of good, because the end comes not at once. 

It is true that bad motives may in some degree be brought to support agood cause or prosecute a good object; but it never continues long, which is not the case with France; for either the object will reformthe mind, or the mind corrupt the object, or else not being able, either way, to get into unison, they will separate in disgust: Andthis natural, though unperceived progress of association or contentionbetween the mind and the object, is the secret cause of fidelity ordefection. Every object a man pursues is, for the time, a kind ofmistress to his mind: if both are good or bad, the union is natural;but if they are in reverse, and neither can seduce nor yet reform theother, the opposition grows into dislike, and a separation follows. 

When the cause of America first made her appearance on the stage ofthe universe, there were many who, in the style of adventurers andfortune-hunters, were dangling in her train, and making their court toher with every profession of honour and attachment. They were loud inher praise, and ostentatious in her service. Every place echoed withtheir ardour or their anger, and they seemed like men in love. --But, alas, they were fortune-hunters. Their expectations were excited, buttheir minds were unimpressed; and finding her not to the purpose, northemselves reformed by her influence, they ceased their suit, and insome instances deserted and betrayed her. 

There were others, who at first beheld her with indifference, andunacquainted with her character, were cautious of her company. Theytreated her as one, who, under the fair name of liberty, might concealthe hideous figure of anarchy, or the gloomy monster of tyranny. Theyknew not what she was. If fair, she was fair indeed. But still she wassuspected, and though born among us, appeared to be a stranger. 

Accident, with some, and curiosity with others, brought on a distantacquaintance. They ventured to look at her. They felt an inclinationto speak to her. One intimacy led to another, till the suspicion woreaway, and a change of sentiment stole gradually upon the mind; andhaving no self-interest to serve, no passion of dishonour to gratify, they became enamoured of her innocence, and unaltered by misfortune oruninflamed by success, shared with fidelity in the varieties of herfate. 

This declaration of the Abbe's, respecting motives, has led meunintendedly into a train of metaphysical reasoning; but there was noother avenue by which it could so properly be approached. To placepresumption against presumption, assertion against assertion, is amode of opposition that has no effect; and therefore the more eligiblemethod was, to shew that the declaration does not correspond with thenatural progress of the mind, and the influence it has upon ourconduct. --I shall now quit this part, and proceed to what I havebefore stated, namely, that it is not so properly the motives whichproduced the alliance, as the consequences to be produced from it, that mark out the field of philosophical reflections. 

It is an observation I have already made in some former publication, that the circle of civilization is yet incomplete. A mutuality ofwants have formed the individuals of each country into a kind ofnational society, and here the progress of civilization has stopt. For it is easy to see, that nations with regard to each other(notwithstanding the ideal civil law, which every one explains as itsuits him) are like individuals in a state of nature. They areregulated by no fixt principle, governed by no compulsive law, andeach does independently what it pleases, or what it can. 

Were it possible we could have known the world when in a state ofbarbarism, we might have concluded, that it never could be broughtinto the order we now see it. The untamed mind was then as hard, ifnot harder to work upon in its individual state, than the nationalmind is in its present one. Yet we have seen the accomplishment of theone, why then should we doubt that of the other?

There is a greater fitness in mankind to extend and complete thecivilization of nations with each other at this day, than there was tobegin it with the unconnected individuals at first; in the same mannerthat it is somewhat easier to put together the materials of a machineafter they are formed, than it was to form them from original matter. The present condition of the world, differing so exceedingly from whatit formerly was, has given a new cast to the mind of man, more thanwhat he appears to be sensible of. The wants of the individual, whichfirst produced the idea of society, are now augmented into the wantsof the nation, and he is obliged to seek from another country whatbefore he sought from the next person. 

Letters, the tongue of the world, have in some measure brought allmankind acquainted, and, by an extension of their uses, are every daypromoting some new friendship. Through them distant nations becamecapable of conversation, and losing by degrees the awkwardness ofstrangers, and the moroseness of suspicion, they learn to know andunderstand each other. Science, the partizan of no country, but thebeneficent patroness of all, has liberally opened a temple where allmay meet. Her influence on the mind, like the sun on the chilledearth, has long been preparing it for higher cultivation and furtherimprovement. The philosopher of one country sees not an enemy in thephilosopher of another: he takes his seat in the temple of science, and asks not who sits beside him. 

This was not the condition of the barbarian world. Then the wants ofman were few, and the objects within his reach. While he could acquirethese, he lived in a state of individual independence; the consequenceof which was, there were as many nations as persons, each contendingwith the other, to secure something which he had, or to obtainsomething which he had not. The world had then no business to follow, no studies to exercise the mind. Their time was divided between slothand fatigue. Hunting and war were their chief occupations; sleep andfood their principal enjoyments. 

Now it is otherwise. A change in the mode of life has made itnecessary to be busy; and man finds a thousand things to do now whichbefore he did not. Instead of placing his ideas of greatness in therude achievements of the savage, he studies arts, science, agriculture, and commerce, the refinements of the gentleman, theprinciples of society, and the knowledge of the philosopher. 

There are many things which in themselves are morally neither good norbad, but they are productive of consequences, which are stronglymarked with one or other of these characters. Thus commerce, though initself a moral nullity, has had a considerable influence in temperingthe human mind. It was the want of objects in the ancient world, whichoccasioned in them such a rude and perpetual turn for war. Their timehung upon their hands without the means of employment. The indolencethey lived in afforded leisure for mischief, and being all idle atonce, and equal in their circumstances, they were easily provoked orinduced to action. 

But the introduction of commerce furnished the world with objects, which in their extent, reach every man, and give him something tothink about and something to do; by these his attention his [_sic_]mechanically drawn from the pursuits which a state of indolence and anunemployed mind occasioned, and he trades with the same countries, which former ages, tempted by their productions, and too indolent topurchase them, would have gone to war with. 

Thus, as I have already observed, the condition of the world beingmaterially changed by the influence of science and commerce, it is putinto a fitness not only to admit of, but to desire an extension ofcivilization. The principal and almost only remaining enemy it now hasto encounter, is _prejudice_; for it is evidently the interest ofmankind to agree and make the best of life. The world has undergoneits divisions of empire, the several boundaries of which are known andsettled. The idea of conquering countries, like the Greeks and Romans, does not now exist; and experience has exploded the notion of going towar for the sake of profit. In short, the objects for war areexceedingly diminished, and there is now left scarcely any thing toquarrel about, but what arises from that demon of society, prejudice, and the consequent sullenness and untractableness of the temper. 

There is something exceedingly curious in the constitution andoperation of prejudice. It has the singular ability of accommodatingitself to all the possible varieties of the human mind. Some passionsand vices are but thinly scattered among mankind, and find only hereand there a fitness of reception. But prejudice, like the spider, makes every where its home. It has neither taste nor choice of place, and all that it requires is room. There is scarcely a situation, except fire or water, in which a spider will not live. So, let themind be as naked as the walls of an empty and forsaken tenement, gloomy as a dungeon, or ornamented with the richest abilities ofthinking; let it be hot, cold, dark, or light, lonely or inhabited, still prejudice, if undisturbed, will fill it with cobwebs, and live, like the spider, where there seems nothing to live on. If the oneprepares her food by poisoning it to her palate and her use, the otherdoes the same; and as several of our passions are strongly characteredby the animal world, prejudice may be denominated the spider of themind. 

Perhaps no two events ever united so intimately and forceably tocombat and expel prejudice, as the Revolution of America, and theAlliance with France. Their effects are felt, and their influencealready extends as well to the old world as the new. Our style andmanner of thinking have undergone a revolution, more extraordinarythan the political revolution of the country. We see with other eyes;we hear with other ears; and think with other thoughts, than those weformerly used. We can look back on our own prejudices, as if they hadbeen the prejudices of other people. We now see and know they wereprejudices, and nothing else; and relieved from their shackles, enjoya freedom of mind we felt not before. It was not all the argument, however powerful, nor all the reasoning, however elegant, that couldhave produced this change, so necessary to the extension of the mindand the cordiality of the world, without the two circumstances of theRevolution and the Alliance. 

Had America dropt quietly from Britain, no material change insentiment had taken place. The same notions, prejudices, and conceits, would have governed in both countries, as governed them before; and, still the slaves of error and education, they would have travelled onin the beaten tract of vulgar and habitual thinking. But brought aboutby the means it has been, both with regard to ourselves, to France, and to England, every corner of the mind is swept of its cobwebs, poison, and dust, and made fit for the reception of general happiness. 

Perhaps there never was an alliance on a broader basis, than thatbetween America and France, and the progress of it is worth attendingto. The countries had been enemies, not properly of themselves, butthrough the medium of England. They, originally, had no quarrel witheach other, nor any cause for one, but what arose from the interest ofEngland, and her arming America against France. At the same time, theAmericans, at a distance from and unacquainted with the world, andtutored in all the prejudices which governed those who governed them, conceived it their duty to act as they were taught. In doing thisthey expended their substance to make conquests, not for themselves, but for their masters, who in return, treated them as slaves. 

A long succession of insolent severity, and the separation finallyoccasioned by the commencement of hostilities at Lexington, on the19th of April, 1775, naturally produced a new disposition of thinking. As the mind closed itself towards England, it opened itself toward theworld; and our prejudices, like our oppressions, underwent, thoughless observed, a mental examination; until we found the former asinconsistent with reason and benevolence, as the latter were repugnantto our civil and political rights. 

While we were thus advancing by degrees into the wide field ofextended humanity, the alliance with France was concluded; an alliancenot formed for the mere purpose of a day, but on just and generousgrounds, and with equal and mutual advantages; and the easyaffectionate manner in which the parties have since communicated, hasmade it an alliance, not of courts only, but of countries. There isnow an union of mind as well as of interest; and our hearts as well asour prosperity, call on us to support it. 

The people of England not having experienced this change, had likewiseno ideas of it, they were hugging to their bosoms the same prejudiceswe were trampling beneath our feet; and they expected to keep a holdupon America, by that narrowness of thinking which America disdained. What they were proud of, we despised: and this is a principal causewhy all their negotiations, constructed on this ground, have failed. We are now really another people, and cannot again go back toignorance and prejudice. The mind once enlightened cannot again becomedark. There is no possibility, neither is there any term to expressthe supposition by, of the mind unknowing any thing it already knows;and therefore all attempts on the part of England, fitted to theformer habit of America, and on the expectation of their applying now, will be like persuading a seeing man to become blind, and a sensibleone to turn an idiot. The first of which is unnatural and the otherimpossible. 

As to the remark which the Abbe makes on the one country being amonarchy and the other a republic, it can have no essential meaning. Forms of government have nothing to do with treaties. The former arethe internal police of the countries severally; the latter theirexternal police jointly: and so long as each performs its part, wehave no more right or business to know how the one or the otherconducts its domestic affairs, than we have to inquire into theprivate concerns of a family. 

But had the Abbe reflected for a moment, he would have seen thatcourts, or the governing powers of all countries, be their forms whatthey may, are relatively republics with each other. It is the firstand true principle of alliancing. Antiquity may have given precedence, and power will naturally create importance, but their equal right isnever disputed. It may likewise be worthy of remarking, that amonarchical country can suffer nothing in its popular happiness by analliance with a republican one; and republican governments have neverbeen destroyed by their external connections, but by some internalconvulsion or contrivance. France has been in alliance with therepublic of Switzerland for more than two hundred years, and stillSwitzerland retains her original form as entire as if she had alliedwith a republic like herself; therefore this remark of the Abbe shouldgo for nothing. --Besides, it is best mankind should mix. There is eversomething to learn, either of manners or principle; and it is by afree communication, without regard to domestic matters, thatfriendship is to be extended, and prejudice destroyed all over theworld. 

But notwithstanding the Abbe's high professions in favour of liberty, he appears sometimes to forget himself, or that his theory is ratherthe child of his fancy than of his judgment: for in almost the sameinstant that he censures the alliance, as not originally orsufficiently calculated for the happiness of mankind, he, by a figureof implication, accuses France for having acted so generously andunreservedly in concluding it. "Why did they (says he, meaning theCourt of France) tie themselves down by an inconsiderate treaty toconditions with the Congress, which they might themselves have held independence by ample and regular supplies. "

When an author undertakes to treat of public happiness, he ought to becertain that he does not mistake passion for right, nor imaginationfor principle. Principle, like truth, needs no contrivance. It willever tell its own tale, and tell it the same way. But where this isnot the case, every page must be watched, recollected, and comparedlike an invented story. 

I am surprised at this passage of the Abbe. It means nothing or itmeans ill; and in any case it shows the great difference betweenspeculative and practical knowledge. A treaty according to the Abbe'slanguage would have neither duration nor affection; it might havelasted to the end of the war, and then expired with it. --But France, by acting in a style superior to the little politics of narrowthinking, has established a generous fame, and won the love of acountry she was before a stranger to. She had to treat with a peoplewho thought as nature taught them; and, on her own part, she wiselysaw there was no present advantage to be obtained by unequal terms, which could balance the more lasting ones that might flow from a kindand generous beginning. 

From this part the Abbe advances into the secret transactions of thetwo Cabinets of Versailles and Madrid, respecting the independence ofAmerica, through which I mean not to follow him. It is a circumstancesufficiently striking, without being commented on, that the formerunion of America with Britain, produced a power, which, in her hands, had was becoming dangerous to the world: and there is no improbabilityin supposing, that had the latter known as much of the strength offormer, before she began the quarrel, as she has known since, thatinstead of attempting to reduce her to unconditional submission, wouldhave proposed to her the conquest of Mexico. But from the countriesseparately, Spain has nothing to apprehend, though from their union, she had more to fear than any other power in Europe. 

The part which I shall more particularly confine myself to, is that, wherein the Abbe takes an opportunity of complimenting the BritishMinistry with high encomiums of admiration, on their rejecting theoffered mediation of the Court of Madrid, in 1779. 

It must be remembered, that before Spain joined France in the War, sheundertook the office of a mediator, and made proposals to the BritishKing and Ministry so exceedingly favourable to their interest, thathad they been accepted, would have become inconvenient, if notinadmissible to America. These proposals were nevertheless rejected bythe British Cabinet: on which the Abbe says, --

"It is in such a circumstance as this, it is in the time when noblepride elevates the soul superior to all terror; when nothing is seenmore dreadful than the shame of receiving the law, and when there isno doubt or hesitation which to chuse, between ruin and dishonour; itis then, that the greatness of a nation is displayed. I acknowledge, however, that men accustomed to judge of things by the event, callgreat and perilous resolutions, heroism or madness, according to thegood or bad success with which they have been attended. If then Ishould be asked, what is the name which shall in years to come begiven to the firmness, which was in this moment exhibited by theEnglish, I shall answer, that I do not know. But that which itdeserves I know. I know that the annals of the world hold out to usbut rarely the august and majestic spectacle of a nation, which chusesrather to renounce its duration than its glory. "

In this paragraph the conception is lofty, and the expression elegant;but the colouring is too high for the original, and the likeness failsthrough an excess of graces. To fit the powers of thinking and theturn of language to the subject, so as to bring out a clear conclusionthat shall hit the point in question, and nothing else, is the truecriterion of writing. But the greater part of the Abbe's writings (ifhe will pardon me the remark) appear to me uncentral and burthenedwith variety. They represent a beautiful wilderness without paths; inwhich the eye is diverted by every thing, without being particularlydirected to any thing: and in which it is agreeable to be lost, anddifficult to find the way out. 

Before I offer any other remark oh the spirit and composition of theabove passage, I shall compare it with the circumstance it alludes to. 

The circumstance, then, does not deserve the encomium. The rejectionwas not prompted by her fortitude but her vanity. She did not view itas a case of despair or even of extreme danger, and consequently thedetermination to renounce her duration rather than her glory, cannotapply to the condition of her mind. She had then high expectations ofsubjugating America, and had no other naval force against her thanFrance; neither was she certain that rejecting the mediation of Spainwould combine that power with France. New mediations might arise morefavourable than those she had refused. But if they should not, andSpain should join, she still saw that it would only bring out hernaval force against France and Spain, which was wanted and could notbe employed against America, and habits of thinking had taught her tobelieve herself superior to both. 

But in any case to which the consequence might point, there wasnothing to impress her with the idea of renouncing her duration. It isnot the policy of Europe to suffer the extinction of any power, butonly to lop off, or prevent its dangerous encrease. She was likewisefreed by situation from the internal and immediate horrors ofinvasion; was rolling in dissipation, and looking for conquests; andthough she suffered nothing but the expense of war, she still had agreedy eye to magnificent reimbursement. 

But if the Abbe is delighted with high and striking singularities ofcharacter he might, in America, have found ample field for encomium. Here was a people, who could not know what part the world would takefor, or against them; and who were venturing on an untried scheme, inopposition to a power, against which more formidable nations hadfailed. They had every thing to learn but the principles whichsupported them, and every thing to procure that was necessary fortheir defense. They have at times seen themselves as low as distresscould make them, without showing the least stagger in their fortitude;and been raised again by the most unexpected events, withoutdiscovering an unmanly discomposure of joy. To hesitate or to despairare conditions equally unknown in America. Her mind was prepared forevery thing; because her original and final resolution of succeedingor perishing included all possible circumstances. 

The rejection of the British propositions in the year 1778, circumstanced as America was at that time, is a far greater instanceof unshaken fortitude than the refusal of the Spanish mediation by theCourt of London: and other historians, besides the Abbe, struck withthe vastness of her conduct therein, have, like himself, attributed itto a circumstance which was then unknown, the alliance with France. Their error shows their idea of its greatness; because, in order toaccount for it, they have sought a cause suited to its magnitude, without knowing that the cause existed in the principles of thecountry. [2]

FOOTNOTE:

[2] Extract from, "_A short Review of the present Reign_, " in England. _Page 45, in the New Annual Register for the year 1780_. 

 "_THE Commissioners, who, in consequence of Lord North's conciliatory bills, went over to America, to propose terms of peace to the colonies, were wholly unsuccessful. The concessions which formerly would have been received with the utmost gratitude, were rejected with disdain. Now was the time of American pride and haughtiness. It is probable, however, that it was not pride and haughtiness alone that dictated the Resolutions of Congress, but a distrust of the sincerity of the offers of Britain, a determination not to give up their independence, and_ ABOVE ALL, THE ENGAGEMENTS INTO WHICH _I_ HAD ENTERED BY THEIR LATE TREATY WITH FRANCE. "

But this passionate encomium of the Abbe is deservedly subject tomoral and philosophical objections. It is the effusion of wildthinking, and has a tendency to prevent that humanity of reflectionwhich the criminal conduct of Britain enjoins on her as a duty. --It isa laudanum to courtly iniquity. --It keeps in intoxicated sleep theconscience of a nation; and more mischief is effected by wrapping upguilt in splendid excuse, than by directly patronizing it. 

Britain is now the only country which holds the world in disturbanceand war; and instead of paying compliments to the excess of hercrimes, the Abbe would have appeared much more in character, had heput to her, or to her monarch, this serious question--

Are there not miseries enough in the world, too difficult to beencountered and too pointed to be borne, without studying to enlargethe list and arming it with new destruction? Is life so very long, that it is necessary, nay even a duty, to shake the sand, and hastenout the period of duration? Is the path so elegantly smooth, so deckedon every side, and carpeted with joys, that wretchedness is wanting toenrich it as a soil? Go ask thine aching heart, when sorrow from athousand causes wounds it, go, ask thy sickened self when everymedicine fails, whether this be the case or not?

Quitting my remarks on this head, I proceed to another, in which theAbbe has let loose a vein of ill-nature, and, what is still worse, ofinjustice. 

After caviling at the treaty, he goes on to characterize the severalparties combined in the war. --"Is it possible, " says the Abbe, "that astrict union should long subsist amongst confederates of characters soopposite as the hasty, light, disdainful Frenchman, the jealous, haughty, sly, slow, circumspect Spaniard, and the American, who issecretly snatching looks at the mother country, and would rejoice, were they compatible with his independence, at the disasters of hisallies?"

To draw foolish portraits of each other, is a mode of attack andreprisal, which the greater part of mankind are fond of indulging. Theserious philosopher should be above it, more especially in cases fromwhich no possible good can arise, and mischief may, and where noreceived provocation can palliate the offense. --The Abbe might haveinvented a difference of character for every country in the world, andthey in return might find others for him, till in the war of wit allreal character is lost. The pleasantry of one nation or the gravity ofanother may, by a little penciling, be distorted into whimsicalfeatures, and the painter becomes so much laughed at as the painting. 

But why did not the Abbe look a little deeper, and bring forth theexcellencies of the several parties? Why did he not dwell withpleasure on that greatness of character, that superiority of heart, which has marked the conduct of France in her conquests, and which hasforced an acknowledgment even from Britain. 

There is one line, at least (and many others might be discovered), inwhich the confederates unite; which is, that of a rival eminence intheir treatment of their enemies. Spain, in her conquest of Minorcaand the Bahama Islands, confirms this remark. America has beeninvariable in her lenity from the beginning of the war, notwithstanding the high provocations she has experienced? It isEngland only who has been insolent and cruel. 

But why must America be charged with a crime undeserved by herconduct, more so by her principles, and which, if a fact, would befatal to her honour? I mean the want of attachment to her allies, orrejoicing in their disasters. She, it is true, has been assiduous inshowing to the world that she was not the aggressor toward England;and that the quarrel was not of her seeking, or, at that time, even ofher wishing. But to draw inferences from her justification, to stabher character by, and I see nothing else from which they can besupposed to be drawn, is unkind and unjust. 

Does her rejection of the British propositions in 1778, before sheknew of any alliance with France, correspond with the Abbe'sdescription of her mind? Does a single instance of her conduct sincethat time justify it?--But there is a still better evidence to applyto, which is, that of all the mails which at different times have beenway-laid on the road, in divers parts of America, and taken andcarried into New-York, and from which the most secret and confidentialprivate letters, as well as those from authority, have been published, not one of them, I repeat it, not a single one of them, givescountenance to such a charge. 

This is not a country where men are under government restraint inspeaking; and if there is any kind of restraint, it arises from a fearof popular resentment. Now, if nothing in her private or publiccorrespondence favours such a suggestion, and if the generaldisposition of the country is such as to make it unsafe for a man toshew an appearance of joy at any disaster to her ally; on whatgrounds, I ask, can the accusation stand? What company the Abbe mayhave kept in France, we cannot know; but this we know, that theaccount he gives does not apply to America. 

Had the Abbe been in America at the time the news arrived of thedisaster of the fleet under Count de Grasse, in the West-Indies, hewould have seen his vast mistake. Neither do I remember any instance, except the loss of Charlestown, in which the public mind suffered moresevere and pungent concern, or underwent more agitations of hope andapprehension, as to the truth or falsehood of the report. Had the lossbeen all our own, it could not have had a deeper effect; yet it wasnot one of those cases which reached to the independence of America. 

In the geographical account which the Abbe gives of the ThirteenStates, he is so exceedingly erroneous, that to attempt a particularrefutation, would exceed the limits I have prescribed to myself. Andas it is a matter neither political, historical, nor sentimental, andwhich can always be contradicted by the extent and naturalcircumstances of the country, I shall pass it over; with thisadditional remark, that I never yet saw an European description ofAmerica that was true, neither can any person gain a just idea of it, but by coming to it. 

Though I have already extended this letter beyond what I at firstproposed, I am, nevertheless, obliged to omit many observations Ioriginally designed to have made. I wish there had been no occasionfor making any. But the wrong ideas which the Abbe's work had atendency to excite, and the prejudicial impressions they might make, must be an apology for my remarks, and the freedom with which they aremade. 

I observe the Abbe has made a sort of epitome of a considerable partof the pamphlet Common Sense, and introduced it in that form into hispublication. But there are other places where the Abbe has borrowedfreely from the said pamphlet without acknowledging it. The differencebetween society and government, with which the pamphlet opens, istaken from it, and in some expressions almost literally, into theAbbe's work, as if originally his own; and through the whole of theAbbe's remarks on this head, the idea in Common Sense is so closelycopied and pursued, that the difference is only in words, and in thearrangement of the thoughts, and not in the thoughts themselves. [3]

FOOTNOTE:

[3]

 COMMON SENSE. ABBE RAYNAL. "Some writers have so confounded "Care must be taken not to confoundsociety With government, as to leave together society with government. Little or no distinction between them; That they may be known distinctly, whereas they are not only different, their origin should be considered. But have different origins. 

"Society is produced by our wants, "Society originates in the wants ofand governments by our wickedness; men, government in their vices. The former promotes our happiness Society tends always to good; government_positively_, by uniting our affections; ought always to tend to thethe latter _negatively_, by restraining repressing of evil. "our vices. "

_In the following paragraphs there is less likeness in the language, butthe ideas in the one are evidently copied from the other_. 

"In order to gain a clear and just "Man, thrown, as it were byidea of the design and end of government, chance upon the globe, surroundedlet us suppose a small number by all the evils of nature, obligedof persons, meeting in some frequented continually to defend and protect hispart of the earth, unconnected life against the storms and tempestswith the rest; they will then represent of the air, against the inundations ofthe peopling of any country or water, against the fire of volcanoes, of the world. In this state of natural against the intemperance of frigidliberty, society will be our first and torrid zones, against the sterilitythought. A thousand motives will of the earth which, refuses him aliment, excite them thereto. The strength of or its baneful fecundity, whichone man is so unequal to his wants, makes poison spring up beneath hisand his mind so unfitted for perpetual feet; in short against the claws andsolitude, that he is soon obliged to teeth of savage beasts, who disputeseek assistance of another, who, in with him his habitation and his prey, his turn, requires the same. Four or and attacking his person, seem resolvedfive united would be able to raise to render themselves rulers ofa tolerable dwelling in the midst of a this globe, of which he thinks himselfwilderness; but _one_ man might to be the master. Man, in thislabour out the common period of life, state, alone and abandoned to himself, without accomplishing any thing; could do nothing for his preservation. When he has felled his timber, he It was necessary, therefore, could not remove it, nor erect it after that he should unite himself, and associateit was removed; hunger, in the with his like, in order tomean time would, urge him from his bring together their strength and intelligencework, and every different want call in common stock. It ishim a different way. Disease, nay by this union that he has triumphedeven misfortune would be death; over so many evils, that he hasfor though neither might be immediately fashioned this globe to his use, restrainedmortal, yet either of them the rivers, subjugated thewould disable him from living, and seas, insured his subsistence, conqueredreduce him to a state in which he apart of the animals in obligingmight rather be said to perish than to them to serve him, and driven othersdie. --Thus necessity, like a gravitating far from his empire, to the depths ofpower, would form our newly deserts or of woods, where theirarrived emigrants into society, the number diminishes from age to age. Reciprocal benefits of which would What a man alone would not havesupersede and render the obligations been able to effect, men have executedof law and government unnecessary, in concert; and altogether theywhile they remained perfectly just preserve their work. --Such is theto each other. But as nothing but origin, such the advantages, and theheaven is impregnable to vice, it will end of society. --Government owesunavoidably happen, that in proportion its birth to the necessity of preventingas they surmount the first and repressing the injuries whichdifficulties of emigration which bound the associated individuals had to fearthem together in a common cause, from one another. It is the sentinelthey will begin to relax in their duty who watches, in order that the commonand attachment to each other, and this labourers be not disturbed. "remissness will point out the necessityof establishing some form ofmoral virtue. "

But as it is time that I should come to the end of my letter, I shallforbear all further observations on the Abbe's work, and take aconcise view of the state of public affairs, since the time in whichthat performance was published. 

A mind habituated to actions of meanness and injustice, commits themwithout reflection, or with a very partial one; for on what otherground than this, can we account for the declaration of war againstthe Dutch? To gain an idea of the politics which actuated the BritishMinistry to this measure, we must enter into the opinion which they, and the English in general, had formed of the temper of the Dutchnation; and from thence infer what their expectation of theconsequences would be. 

Could they have imagined that Holland would have seriously made acommon cause with France, Spain and America, the British Ministrywould never have dared to provoke them. It would have been a madnessin politics to have done so; unless their views were to hasten on aperiod of such emphatic distress, as should justify the concessionswhich they saw they must one day or other make to the world, and forwhich they wanted an apology to themselves. --There is a temper in somemen which seeks a pretense for submission. Like a ship disabled inaction, and unfitted to continue it, it waits the approach of a stilllarger one to strike to, and feels relief at the opportunity. Whetherthis is greatness or littleness of mind, I am not enquiring into. Ishould suppose it to be the latter, because it proceeds from the wantof knowing how to bear misfortune in its original state. 

But the subsequent conduct of the British cabinet has shown that thiswas not their plan of politics, and consequently their motives must besought for in another line. 

The truth is, that the British had formed a very humble opinion of theDutch nation. They looked on them as a people who would submit to anything; that they might insult them as they liked, plunder them as theypleased, and still the Dutch dared not to be provoked. 

If this be taken as the opinion of the British cabinet, the measureis easily accounted for, because it goes on the supposition, thatwhen, by a declaration of hostilities, they had robbed the Dutch ofsome millions sterling (and to rob them was popular), they could makepeace with them again whenever they pleased, and on almost any termsthe British ministry should propose. And no sooner was the plunderingcommitted, than the accommodation was set on foot, and failed. 

When once the mind loses the sense of its own dignity, it loses, likewise, the ability of judging of it in another. And the Americanwar has thrown Britain into such a variety of absurd situations, that, arguing from herself, she sees not in what conduct national dignityconsists in other countries. From Holland she expected duplicity andsubmission, and this mistake from her having acted, in a number ofinstances during the present war, the same character herself. 

To be allied to, or connected with Britain, seems to be an unsafe andimpolitic situation. Holland and America are instances of the realityof this remark. Make those countries the allies of France or Spain, and Britain will court them with civility and treat them with respect;make them her own allies, and she will insult and plunder them. In thefirst case, she feels some apprehensions at offending them, becausethey have support at hand; in the latter, those apprehensions do notexist. Such, however, has hitherto been her conduct. 

Another measure which has taken place since the publication of theAbbe's work, and likewise since the time of my beginning this letter, is the change in the British Ministry. What line the new cabinet willpursue respecting America, is at this time unknown; neither is it verymaterial, unless they are seriously disposed to a general andhonourable peace. 

Repeated experience has shown, not only the impracticability ofconquering America, but the still higher impossibility of conqueringher mind, or recalling her back to her former condition of thinking. Since the commencement of the war, which is now approaching to eightyears, thousands and tens of thousands have advanced, and are dailyadvancing into the first state of manhood, who know nothing of Britainbut as a barbarous enemy, and to whom the independence of Americaappears as much the natural and established government of the country, as that of England does to an Englishman. And on the other hand, thousands of the aged, who had British ideas, have dropped and aredaily dropping, from the stage of business and life. --The naturalprogress of generation and decay operates every hour to thedisadvantage of Britain. Time and death, hard enemies to contend with, fight constantly against her interest; and the bills of mortality, inevery part of America, are the thermometers of her decline. Thechildren in the streets are from their cradle bred to consider her astheir only foe. They hear of her cruelties; of their fathers, uncles, and kindred killed; they see the remains of burned and destroyedhouses, and the common tradition of the school they go to, tells them, _those things were done by the British. _

These are circumstances which the mere English state politician, whoconsiders man only in a state of manhood, does not attend to. He getsentangled with parties coeval or equal with himself at home, andthinks not how fast the rising generation in America is growing beyondhis knowledge of them, or they of him. In a few years all personalremembrance will be lost, and who is king or minister in England, willbe but little known and scarcely inquired after. 

The new British administration is composed of persons who have everbeen against the war, and who have constantly reprobated all theviolent measures of the former one. They considered the American waras destructive to themselves, and opposed it on that ground. But whatare these things to America? She has nothing to do with Englishparties. The ins and the outs are nothing to her. It is the wholecountry she is at war with, or must be at peace with. 

Were every minister in England a _Chatham_, it would now weigh littleor nothing in the scale of American politics. Death has preserved tothe memory of this statesman _that fame_, which he by living, wouldhave lost. His plans and opinions, towards the latter part of hislife, would have been attended with as many evil consequences, and asmuch reprobated here, as those of Lord North; and considering him awise man, they abound with inconsistencies amounting to absurdities. 

It has apparently been the fault of many in the late minority, tosuppose that America would agree to certain terms with them, were theyin place, which she would not ever listen to, from the thenadministration. This idea can answer no other purpose than to prolongthe war; and Britain may, at the expense of many more millions, learnthe fatality of such mistakes. If the new ministry wisely avoid thishopeless policy, they will prove themselves better pilots and wisermen than they are conceived to be; for it is every day expected to seetheir bark strike upon some hidden rock, and go to pieces. 

But there is a line in which they may be great. A more brilliantopening needs not to present itself; and it is such an one as truemagnanimity would improve, and humanity rejoice in. 

A total reformation is wanted in England. She wants an expandedmind, --an heart which embraces the universe. Instead of shuttingherself up in an island, and quarreling with the world, she wouldderive more lasting happiness, and acquire more real riches bygenerously mixing with it, and bravely saying, I am the enemy of none. It is not now the time for little contrivances, or artful politics. The European world is too experienced to be imposed upon, and Americatoo wise to be duped. It must be something new and masterly that mustsucceed. The idea of seducing America from her independence, or ofcorrupting her from her alliance is a thought too little for a greatmind, and impossible for any honest one, to attempt. When everpolitics are applied to debauch mankind from their integrity, anddissolve the virtues of human nature, they become detestables and tobe a statesman on this plan, is to be a commissioned villain. He whoaims at it, leaves a vacancy in his character, which may be filled upwith the worst of epithets. 

If the disposition of England should be such, as not to agree to ageneral and honourable peace, and the war must at all events, continuelonger, I cannot help wishing that the alliances which America has ormay enter into, may become the only objects of the war. She wants anopportunity of shewing to the world that she holds her honour as dearand sacred as her independence, and that she will in no situationforsake those, whom no negotiations could induce to forsake her. Peace, to every reflective mind is a desirable object; but that peacewhich is accompanied with a ruined character, becomes a crime to theseducer, and a curse upon the seduced. 

But where is the impossibility or even the great difficulty of Englandforming a friendship with France and Spain, and making it a nationalvirtue to renounce for ever those prejudiced inveteracies it has beenher custom to cherish; and which, while they serve to sink her with anincreasing enormity of debt, by involving her in fruitless wars, become likewise the bane of her repose, and the destruction of hermanners. We had once the fetters that she has now, but experience hasshewn us the mistake, and thinking justly, has set us right. 

The true idea of a great nation is that, which extends and promotesthe principles of universal society. Whose mind rises above theAtmospheres of local thoughts, and considers mankind, of whatevernation or profession they may be, as the work of one Creator. The ragefor conquest has had its fashion, and its day. Why may not the amiablevirtues have the same? The Alexanders and Cęsars of antiquity haveleft behind them their monuments of destruction, and are rememberedwith hatred; while those more exalted characters, who first taughtsociety and science, are blessed with the gratitude of every age andcountry. Of more use was one philosopher, though a heathen, to theworld, than all the heathen conquerors that ever existed. 

Should the present revolution be distinguished by opening a new systemof extended civilization, it will receive from heaven the highestevidence of approbation; and as this is a subject to which the Abbe'spowers are so eminently suited, I recommend it to his attention, withthe affection of a friend, and the ardour of a universal citizen. 

 * * * * *

POSTSCRIPT

Since closing the foregoing letter some intimations respecting ageneral peace, have made their way to America. On what authority orfoundation they stand, or how near or remote such an event may be, arecircumstances I am not enquiring into. But as the subject must sooneror later, become a matter of serious attention, it may not beimproper, even at this early period, candidly to investigate somepoints that are connected with it, or lead towards it. 

The independence of America is at this moment as firmly established asthat of any other country in a state of war. It is not length of time, but power that gives stability. Nations at war know nothing of eachother on the score of antiquity. It is their present and immediatestrength, together with their connections, that must support them. Towhich we may add, that a right which originated to-day, is as much aright, as if it had the sanction of a thousand years; and thereforethe independence and present government of America are in no moredanger of being subverted, because they are modern, than that ofEngland is secure, because it is ancient. 

The politics of Britain, so far as respected America, were originallyconceived in idiotism, and acted in madness. There is not a step whichbears the smallest trace of rationality. In her management of the war, she has laboured to be wretched, and studied to be hated; and in allher former propositions for accommodation, she has discovered a totalignorance of mankind, and of those natural and unalterable sensationsby which they are so generally governed. How she may conduct herselfin the present or future business of negotiating a peace is yet to beproved. 

He is a weak politician who does not understand human nature, andpenetrate into the effect which measures of government will have uponthe mind. All the miscarriages of Britain have arisen from thisdefect. The former Ministry acted as if they supposed mankind to be_without a mind_; and the present Ministry, as if America was _withouta memory_. The one must have supposed we were incapable of feeling;and the other that we could not remember injuries. 

There is likewise another line in which politicians mistake, which isthat of not rightly calculating, or rather of misjudging, theconsequence which any given circumstance will produce. Nothing is morefrequent, as well in common as in political life, than to hear peoplecomplain, that such or such means produced an event directly contraryto their intentions. But the fault lies in their not judging rightlywhat the event would be; for the means produced only its proper andnatural consequence. 

It is very probable, that in a treaty of peace, Britain will contendfor some post or other in North America, perhaps Canada or Halifax, orboth; and I infer this from the known deficiency of her politics, which have ever yet made use of means, whose natural event was againstboth her interest and her expectation. But the question with her oughtto be, Whether it is worth her while to hold them, and what will bethe consequence?

Respecting Canada, one or other of the two following will take place, viz. If Canada should people, it will revolt, and if it do not people, it will not be worth the expense of holding. And the same may be saidof Halifax; and the country round it. But Canada _never will_ people;neither is there any occasion for contrivances on one side or theother, for nature alone will do the whole. 

Britain may put herself to great expenses in sending settlers toCanada; but the descendants of those settlers will be Americans, asother descendants have been before them. They will look round and seethe neighbouring States sovereign and free, respected abroad, andtrading at large with the world; and the natural love of liberty, theadvantages of commerce, the blessings of independence and of a happierclimate, and a richer soil, will draw them southward; and the effectwill be, that Britain will sustain the expense, and America reap theadvantage. 

One would think that the experience which Britain has had of America, would entirely sicken her of all thoughts of continental colonization, and any part she might retain will only become to her a field ofjealousy and thorns, of debate and contention, forever struggling forprivileges, and meditating revolt. She may form new settlements, butthey will be for us; they will become part of the United States ofAmerica; and that against all her contrivances to prevent it, orwithout any endeavors of ours to promote it. In the first place shecannot draw from them a revenue, until they are able to pay one, andwhen they are so, they will be above subjection. Men soon becomeattached to the soil they live upon, and incorporated with theprosperity of the place; and it signifies but little what opinionsthey come over with, for time, interest, and new connections, willrender them obsolete, and the next generations know nothing of them. 

Were Britain truly wise, she would lay hold of the present opportunityto disentangle herself from all continental embarrassments in NorthAmerica, and that not only to avoid future broils and troubles, but tosave expenses. For to speak explicitly on the matter, I would not, were I an European power, have Canada, under the conditions thatBritain must retain it, could it be given to me. It is one of thosekind of dominions that is, and ever will be, a constant charge uponany foreign holder. 

As to Halifax, it will become useless to England after the presentwar, and the loss of the United States. A harbour, when the dominionis gone, for the purpose of which only it was wanted, can be attendedonly with expense. There are, I doubt not, thousands of people inEngland, who suppose, that these places are a profit to the nation, whereas they are directly the contrary, and instead of producing anyrevenue, a considerable part of the revenue of England is annuallydrawn off, to support the expense of holding them. 

Gibraltar is another instance of national ill-policy. A post which intime of peace is not wanted, and in time of war is of no use, must atall times be useless. Instead of affording protection to a navy, itrequires the aid of one to maintain it. To suppose that Gibraltarcommands the Mediterranean, or the pass into it, or the trade of it, is to suppose a detected falsehood; because though Britain holds thepost, she has lost the other three, and every benefit she expectedfrom it. And to say that all this happens because it is besieged byland and water, is to say nothing, for this will always be the case intime of war, while France and Spain keep up superior fleets, andBritain holds the place. --So that, though, as an impenetrableinaccessible rock, it may be held by the one, it is always in thepower of the other to render it useless and excessively chargeable. 

I should suppose that one of the principal objects of Spain inbesieging it, is to show to Britain, that though she may not take it, she can command it, that is, she can shut it up, and prevent its beingused as a harbour, though not as a garrison. --But the short way toreduce Gibraltar is to attack the British fleet; for Gibraltar is asdependent on a fleet for support, as a bird is on its wing for food, and when wounded there it starves. 

There is another circumstance which the people of England have notonly not attended to, but seem to be utterly ignorant of, and that is, the difference between permanent power and accidental power, considered in a national sense. 

By permanent power, I mean, a natural inherent, and perpetual abilityin a nation, which though always in being, may not be always inaction, or not always advantageously directed; and by accidentalpower, I mean, a fortunate or accidental disposition or exercise ofnational strength, in whole or in part. 

There undoubtedly was a time when any one European nation, with onlyeight or ten ships of war, equal to the present ships of the line, could have carried terror to all others, who had not begun to build anavy, however great their natural ability might be for that purpose:but this can be considered only as accidental, and not as a standardto compare permanent power by, and could last no longer than untilthose powers built as many or more ships than the former. After this alarger fleet was necessary, in order to be superior; and a stilllarger would again supersede it. And thus mankind have gone onbuilding fleet upon fleet, as occasion or situation dictated. And thisreduces it to an original question, which is: Which power can buildand man the largest number of ships? The natural answer to which is, That power which has the largest revenue and the greatest number ofinhabitants, provided its situation of coast affords sufficientconveniencies. 

France being a nation on the continent of Europe, and Britain anisland in its neighbourhood, each of them derived different ideas fromtheir different situations. The inhabitants of Britain could carry onno foreign trade, nor stir from the spot they dwelt upon, without theassistance of shipping; but this was not the case with France. Theidea therefore of a navy did not arise to France from the sameoriginal and immediate necessity which produced to England. But thequestion is, that when both of them turn their attention, and employtheir revenues the same way, which can be superior?

The annual revenue of France is nearly double that of England, and hernumber of inhabitants nearly twice as many. Each of them has the samelength of ground on the Channel; besides which, France has severalhundred miles extent on the Bay of Biscay, and an opening on theMediterranean: and every day proves that practice and exercise makesailors, as well as soldiers, in one country as well as another. 

If then Britain can maintain a hundred ships of the line, France canas well support a hundred and fifty, because her revenue and herpopulation are as equal to the one as those of England are to theother. And the only reason why she has not done it is because she hasnot till very lately attended to it. But when she sees, as she nowsees, that a navy is the first engine of power, she can easilyaccomplish it. 

England very falsely, and ruinously for herself, infers, that becauseshe had the advantage of France, while France had the smaller navy, that for that reason it is always to be so. Whereas it may be clearlyseen that the strength of France has never yet been tried on a navy, and that she is able to be as superior to England in the extent of anavy, as she is in the extent of her revenues and her population. AndEngland may lament the day, when, by her insolence and injustice, sheprovoked in France a maritime disposition. 

It is in the power of the combined fleets to conquer every island inthe West Indies, and reduce all the British Navy in those places. Forwere France and Spain to send their whole naval force in Europe tothose islands, it would not be in the power of Britain to follow themwith an equal force. She would still be twenty or thirty shipsinferior, were she to send every vessel she had; and in the meantimeall the foreign trade of England would lay exposed to the Dutch. 

It is a maxim which, I am persuaded, will ever hold good, and moreespecially in naval operations, that a great power ought never to movein detachments, if it can possibly be avoided; but to go with itswhole force to some important object, the reduction of which shallhave a decisive effect upon the war. Had the whole of the French andSpanish fleets in Europe come last spring to the West Indies, everyisland had been their own, Rodney their prisoner, and his fleet theirprize. From the United States the combined fleets can be supplied withprovisions, without the necessity of drawing them from Europe, whichis not the case with England. 

Accident has thrown some advantages in the way of England, which, fromthe inferiority of her navy, she had not a right to expect. For thoughshe had been obliged to fly before the combined fleets, yet Rodney hastwice had the fortune to fall in with detached squadrons, to which hewas superior in numbers: The first off Cape St. Vincent, where he hadnearly two to one, and the other in the West Indies, where he had amajority of six ships. Victories of this kind almost producethemselves. They are won without honour, and suffered withoutdisgrace; and are ascribable to the chance of meeting, not to thesuperiority of fighting: For the same Admiral, under whom they wereobtained, was unable, in three former engagements, to make the leastimpression on a fleet consisting of an equal number of ships with hisown, and compounded for the events by declining the actions. [4]

To conclude: if it may be said that Britain has numerous enemies, itlikewise proves that she has given numerous offenses. Insolence issure to provoke hatred, whether in a nation or an individual. Thatwant of manners in the British Court may be seen even in itsbirth-days and new-years odes, which are calculated to infatuate thevulgar, and disgust the man of refinement; and her former overbearingrudeness, and insufferable injustice on the seas, have made everycommercial nation her foe. Her fleets were employed as engines ofprey; and acted on the surface of the deep the character which theshark does beneath it. --On the other hand, the Combined Powers aretaking a popular part, and will render their reputation immortal, byestablishing the perfect freedom of the ocean, to which all countrieshave a right, and are interested in accomplishing. The sea is theworld's highway; and he who arrogates a prerogative over ittransgresses the right, and justly brings on himself the chastisementof nations. 

Perhaps it might be of some service to the future tranquillity ofmankind, were an article were introduced into the next general peace, that no one nation should, in time of peace, exceed a certain numberof ships of war. Something of this kind seems necessary; for, according to the present fashion, half of the world will get upon thewater, and there appears to be no end to the extent to which naviesmay be carried. Another reason is that navies add nothing to themanners or morals of a people. The sequestered life which attends theservice, prevents the opportunities of society, and is too apt tooccasion a coarseness of ideas and of language, and that more in shipsof war than in the commercial employ; because in the latter they mixmore with the world, and are nearer related to it. I mention thisremark as a general one, and not applied to anyone country more thanto another. 

Britain has now had the trial of above seven years, with an expense ofnearly a hundred million pounds sterling; and every month in which shedelays to conclude a peace, costs her another million sterling, overand above her ordinary expenses of government, which are a millionmore; so that her total _monthly_ expense is two million poundssterling, which is equal to the whole _yearly_ expenses of America, all charges included. Judge then who is best able to continue it. 

She has likewise many atonements to make to an injured world, as wellin one quarter as in another. And instead of pursuing that temper ofarrogance, which serves only to sink her in the esteem, and entail onher the dislike, of all nations, she would do well to reform hermanners, and retrench her expenses, live peaceably with he neighbours, and think of war no more. 

_Philadelphia, August 21, 1782. _

FOOTNOTE:

[4] _See the accounts, either English or French, of the actions in theWest-Indies between Count de Guichen and Admiral Rodney, in 1780. _

THE END