through the capillary vessels of the system, we scarcely need enquire, if the heart performs its functions aright. But let us approach it; let us lay it bare, and watch the systole and diastole, as it now receives, and now pours forth, the vital stream through all the members. The port of London has always supplied the main evidence of the state of our commerce. I know, that amidst all the difficulties and embarrassments of the year 1793, from causes unconnected with, and prior to, the war, the tonnage of ships in the Thames actually rose. But I shall not go through a detail of official papers on this point. There is evidence which has appeared this very session before your house, infinitely more forcible and impressive to my apprehension, than all the journals and ledgers of all the inspectors general from the days of Davenant. It is such as cannot carry with it any sort of fallacy. It comes, not from one set, but from many opposite sets of witnesses, who all agree in nothing else; witnesses of the gravest and most unexceptionable character, and who confirm what they say, in the surest manner, by their conduct. Two different bills have been brought in for improving the port of London. I have it from very good intelligence, that when the project was first suggested from necessity, there were no less than eight different plans, supported by eight different bodies of subscribers. The cost of the least was estimated at two hundred thousand pounds, and of the most extensive, at twelve hundred thousand. The two, between which the contest now lies, substantially agree (as all the others must have done) in the motives and reasons of the preamble: but I shall confine myself to that bill which is proposed on the part of the mayor, aldermen, and common council, because I regard them as the best authority, and their language in itself is fuller and more precise. I certainly see them complain of the "great "delays, accidents, damages, losses, and extraordinary expences, which are almost continually "sustained, to the hindrance and discouragement "of commerce, and the great injury of the publick "revenue." But what are the causes to which they attribute their complaints? The first is, "THAT 66 FROM THE VERY GREAT AND PROGRES"SIVE INCREASE OF THE NUMBER AND "SIZE OF SHIPS AND OTHER VESSELS TRADING "TO THE PORT OF LONDON; the river Thames is, "in general, so much crowded, that the navigation "of a considerable part of the river is rendered " tedious and dangerous; and there is much want "of room for the safe and convenient mooring of vessels, and constant access to them." The second 66 66 66 66 66 is of the same nature. It is the want of regulations and arrangements, never before found necessary, for expedition and facility. The third is of another kind, but to the same effect; "that the legal quays are too confined, and there is not sufficient ac"commodation for the landing and shipping of cargoes." And the fourth and last is still different; they describe "the avenues to the leg 1 quays" (which, little more than a century since, the great fire of London opened and dilated beyond the measure of our then circumstances) "to be now "much too narrow and incommodious, for the great concourse of carts and other carriages usually passing and repassing there." Thus our trade has grown too big for the ancient limits of art and nature. Our streets, our lanes, our shores, the river itself, which has so long been our pride, are impeded, and obstructed, and choaked up by our riches. They are, like our shops, "bursting with opulence." To these misfortunes, to these distresses and grievances alone, we are told it is to be imputed that still more of our capital has not been pushed into the channel of our commerce, to roll back in its reflux still more abundant capital, and fructify the national treasury in its course. Indeed, my dear sir, when I have before my eyes this consentient testimony of the corporation of the city of London, the West India merchants, and all the other merchants who promoted the other plans, struggling and contending which of them shall be permitted to lay out their money in consonance with their testimony; I cannot turn aside to examine what one or two violent petitions, tumultuously voted by real or pretended liverymen of London, may have said of the utter destruction and annihilation of trade. This opens a subject, on which every true lover of his country, and, at this crisis, every friend to the liberties of Europe, and of social order in every country, must dwell and expatiate with delight. I mean to wind up all my proofs of our astonishing and almost incredible prosperity, with the valuable information given to the secret committee of the lords by the inspector-general. And here I am happy that I can administer an antidote to all despondence, from the same dispensary from which the first dose of poison was supposed to have come. The report of that committee is generally believed to have derived much benefit from the labours of the same noble lord, who was said, as the author of the pamphlet in 1795, to have led the way in teaching us to place all our hope on that very experiment, which he afterwards declared in his place to have been from the beginning utterly without hope. We have now his authority to say, that, as far as our resources were concerned, the experiment was equally without necessity. "It appears," as the committee has very justly and satisfactorily observed, "by the accounts of "the value of the imports and exports for the last twenty years, produced by Mr. Irving, that the "demand for cash to be sent abroad" (which by the way, including the loan to the Emperour, was nearly one third less sent to the continent of 66 66 | Europe than in the seven years war) "was greatly "compensated by a very large balance of commerce in favour of this kingdom; greater than was ever known in any preceding period. The "value of the exports of the last year amounted, according to the valuation on which the ac"counts of the inspector general are founded, to “30,424,1847.; which is more than double what "it was in any year of the American war, and one third more than it was on an average during "the last peace, previous to the year 1792; and "though the value of the imports to this country "has, during the same peace, greatly encreased, "the excess of the value of the exports above that "of the imports, which constitutes the balance of "trade, has augmented even in a greater propor"tion.' These observations might perhaps be branched out into other points of view, but I shall leave them to your own active and ingenious mind. There is another and still more important light in which the inspector general's information may be seen; and that, as affording a comparison of some circumstances in this war, with the commercial history of all our other wars in the present century. In all former hostilities, our exports gradually declined in value, and then (with one single exception) ascended again, till they reached and passed the level of the preceding peace. But this was a work of time, sometimes more, sometimes less slow. In Queen Anne's war which began in 1702, it was an interval of ten years before this was effected. Nine years only were necessary in the war of 1739 for the same operation. The seven years war saw the period much shortened: hostilities began in 1755; and in 1758, the fourth year of the war, the exports mounted above the peacemark. There was, however, a distinguishing feature of that war, that our tonnage, to the very last moment, was in a state of great depression, while our commerce was chiefly carried on by foreign vessels. The American war was darkened with singular and peculiar adversity. Our exports never came near to their peaceful elevation, and our tonnage continued, with very little fluctuation, to subside lower and lower. On the other hand, the present war, with regard to our commerce, has the white mark of as singular felicity. If from internal causes, as well as the consequence of hostilities, the tide ebbed in 1793, it rushed back again with a bore in the following year; and from that time has continued to swell, and run, every successive year, higher and higher into all our ports. The value of our exports last year above the year 1792, (the mere encrease of our commerce during the war,) is equal to the average value of all the exports during the wars of William and Anne. It has been already pointed out, that our imports have not kept pace with our exports; of course, on the face of the account, the balance of trade both positively and comparatively considered, must have been much more than ever in our favour. In This account is extracted from different parts of Mr. Chalmers' estimate. It is but just to mention, that, in Mr. Chalmers' that early little tract of mine, to which I have already more than once referred, I made many observations on the usual method of computing that balance, as well as the usual objection to it, that the entries at the custom-house were not always true. As you probably remember them, I shall not repeat them here. On the one hand, I am not surprised that the same trite objection is perpetually renewed by the detractors of our national affluence; and on the other hand, I am gratified in perceiving that the balance of trade seems to be now computed in a manner much clearer, than it used to be, from those errours which I formerly noticed. The inspector general appears to have made his estimate with every possible guard and caution. His opinion is entitled to the greatest respect. It was in substance, (I shall again use the words of the Report, as much better than my own,) "That the true "balance of our trade amounted, on a medium "of the four years preceding January 1796, to "upwards of 6,500,000l. per annum, exclusive "of the profits arising from our East and West "India trade, which he estimates at upwards of "4,000,000l. per annum; exclusive of the profits "derived from our fisheries." So that including the fisheries, and making a moderate allowance for the exceedings, which Mr. Irving himself supposes, beyond his calculation, without reckoning what the publick creditors themselves pay to themselves, and without taking one shilling from the stock of the landed interest; our colonies, our oriental possessions, our skill and industry, our commerce, and navigation, at the commencement of this year, were pouring a new annual capital into the kingdom; hardly half a million short of the whole interest of that tremendous debt, from which we are taught to shrink in dismay, as from an overwhelming and intolerable oppression. If then the real state of this nation is such as I have described, and I am only apprehensive that you may think I have taken too much pains to exclude all doubt on this question; if no class is lessened in its numbers, or in its stock, or in its conveniences, or even its luxuries; if they build as many habitations, and as elegant and as commodious as ever, and furnish them with every chargeable decoration, and every prodigality of ingenious invention, that can be thought of by those who even incumber their necessities with superfluous accommodation; if they are as numerously attended; if their equipages are as splendid; if they regale at table with as much or more variety of plenty than ever; if they are clad in as expensive and changeful a diversity according to their tastes and modes; if they are not deterred from the pleasures of the field by the charges which government has wisely turned from the culture to the sports of the field; if the theatres are as rich, and as well filled, and greater, and at a higher price than ever; and (what is more important than all) if it is plain from the treasures which are spread over the soil, or confided to the winds and the seas, that there are estimate, the sums are uniformly lower than those of the same year in Mr. Irving's account. as many who are indulgent to their propensities of parsimony, as others to their voluptuous desires, and that the pecuniary capital grows instead of diminishing; on what ground are we authorized to say, that a nation, gamboling in an ocean of superfluity, is undone by want? With what face can we pretend, that they who have not denied any one gratification to any one appetite, have a right to plead poverty in order to famish their virtues, and to put their duties on short allowance? That they are to take the law from an imperious enemy, and can contribute no longer to the honour of their king, to the support of the independence of their country, to the salvation of that Europe, which, if it falls, must crush them with its gigantick ruins? How can they affect to sweat, and stagger, and groan, under their burthens, to whom the mines of Newfoundland, richer than those of Mexico and Peru, are now thrown in as a make-weight in the scale of their exorbitant opulence? What excuse can they have to faint, and creep, and cringe, and prostrate themselves, at the footstool of ambition and crime, who, during a short though violent struggle, which they have never supported with the energy of men, have amassed more to their annual accumulation, than all the well-husbanded capital, that enabled their ancestors, by long, and doubtful, and obstinate conflicts, to defend, and liberate, and vindicate the civilized world? But I do not accuse the people of England. As to the great majority of the nation, they have done whatever in their several ranks, and conditions, and descriptions, was required of them by their relative situations in society; and from those the great mass of mankind cannot depart, without the subversion of all publick order. They look up to that government, which they obey that they may be protected. They ask to be led and directed by those rulers, whom Providence and the laws of their country have set over them, and under their guidance to walk in the ways of safety and honour. They have again delegated the greatest trust, which they have to bestow, to those faithful representatives who made their true voice heard against the disturbers and destroyers of Europe. They suffered, with unapproving acquiescence, solicitations, which they had in no shape desired, to an unjust and usurping power, whom they had never provoked, and whose hostile menaces they did not dread. When the exigencies of the publick service could only be met by their voluntary zeal, they started forth with an ardour which outstripped the wishes of those who had injured them by doubting whether it might not be necessary to have recourse to compulsion. They have, in all things, reposed an enduring, but not an unreflecting, confidence. That confidence demands a full return, and fixes a responsibility on the ministers entire and undivided. The People stands acquitted, if the war is not carried on in a manner suited to its objects. If the publick honour is tarnished; if the publick safety suffers any detriment; the ministers, not the people, are to answer it, and they alone. Its armies, its navies, are given to them without stint or restriction. Its treasures are poured out at their feet. Its constancy is ready to second all their efforts. They are not to fear a responsibility for acts of manly adventure. The responsibility which they are to dread, is, lest they should shew themselves unequal to the expectation of a brave people. The more doubtful may be the constitutional and economical questions upon which they have received so marked a support, the more loudly they are called upon to support this great war, for the success of which their country is willing to supersede considerations of no slight importance. Where I speak of responsibility, I do not mean to exclude that species of it, which the legal powers of the country have a right finally to exact from those who abuse a publick trust; but high as this is, there is a responsibility which attaches on them, from which the whole legitimate power of this kingdom cannot absolve them; there is a responsibility to conscience and to glory; a responsibility to the existing world, and to that posterity, which men of their eminence cannot avoid for glory or for shame; a responsibility to a tribunal, at which, not only ministers, but kings and parliaments, but even nations themselves, must one day answer. LETTER FROM LORD AUCKLAND TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDMUND BURKE. Eden Farm, Kent, Oct. 28th, 1795. MY DEAR SIR, THOUGH in the stormy ocean of the last twentythree years we have seldom sailed on the same tack, there has been nothing hostile in our signals or manœuvres; and, on my part at least, there has been a cordial disposition towards friendly and respectful sentiments. Under that influence, I now send to you a small work, which exhibits my fair and full opinions on the arduous circumstances of the moment, 66 as far as the cautions necessary to be observed will permit me to go "beyond general ideas." Three or four of those friends, with whom I am most connected in publick and private life, are pleased to think, that the statement in question (which at first made part of a confidential paper) may do good: and accordingly a very large impression will be published to-day. I neither seek to avow the publication, nor do I wish to disavow it. I have no anxiety in that respect, but to contribute my mite to do service, at a moment when service is much wanted. I am, my dear Sir, most sincerely your's, Rt Hble Edmd Burke. AUCKLAND. LETTER FROM THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDMUND BURKE TO LORD AUCKLAND. MY DEAR LORD, In this retreat, I have nothing relative to this world to do, but to study all the tranquillity that in the state of my mind I am capable of. To that end I find it but too necessary to call to my aid an oblivion of most of the circumstances, pleasant and unpleasant, of my life; to think as little, and indeed to know as little, as I can, of every thing that is doing about me; and above all, to divert my mind from all presagings and prognostications of what I must (if I let my speculations loose) consider as of absolute necessity to happen after my death, and possibly even before it. Your address to the Publick, which you have been so good as to send to me, obliges me to break in upon that plan, and to look a little on what is behind, very much on what is before, me. It creates and in my mind a variety of thoughts, and all of them unpleasant. It is true, my Lord, what you say, that, through our publick life, we have generally sailed on somewhat different tacks. We have so, undoubtedly, and we should do so still, if I had continued longer to keep the sea. In that difference, you rightly observe, that I have always done justice to your skill and ability as a navigator, and to your good intentions towards the safety of the cargo, and of the ship's company. I cannot say now that we are on different tacks. There would be no propriety in the metaphor. I can sail no longer. My vessel cannot be said to be even in port. She is wholly condemned and broken up. To have an idea of that vessel, you must call to mind what you have often seen on the Kentish road. Those planks of tough and hardy oak, that used for years to brave the buffets of the Bay of Biscay, are now turned, with their warped grain, and empty trunnion-holes, into very wretched pales for the enclosure of a wretched farm-yard. The style of your pamphlet, and the eloquence and power of composition you display in it, are such as do great honour to your talents; and in conveying any other sentiments would give me very great pleasure. Perhaps I do not very perfectly comprehend your purpose, and the drift of your arguments. If I do not-pray do not attribute my mistake to want of candour, but to want of sagacity. I confess your address to the Publick, together with other accompanying circumstances, has filled me with a degree of grief and dismay, which I cannot find words to express. If the plan of politicks there recommended, pray excuse my freedom, should be adopted by the King's Councils, and by the good people of this kingdom, (as so recommended undoubtedly it will,) nothing can be the consequence but utter and irretrievable ruin to the Ministry, to the Crown, to the Succession, to the importance, to the independence, to the very existence of this country. This is my feeble, perhaps, but clear, positive, decided, long and maturely-reflected, and frequently declared, opinion, from which all the events, which have lately come to pass, so far from turning me, have tended to confirm beyond the power of alteration, even by your eloquence and authority. I find, my dear Lord, that you think some persons, who are not satisfied with the securities of a jacobin peace, to be persons of intemperate minds. I may be, and I fear I am, with you in that description: but pray, my Lord, recollect, that very few of the causes, which make men intemperate, can operate upon me. Sanguine hopes, vehement desires, in ordinate ambition, implacable animosity, party attachments, or party interests ;-all these with me have no existence. For myself, or for a family, (alas! I have none,) I have nothing to hope or to fear in this world. I am attached by principle, inclination, and gratitude to the King, and to the present Ministry. Perhaps you may think, that my animosity to Opposition is the cause of my dissent, on seeing the politicks of Mr. Fox (which, while I was in the world, I combated by every instrument which God had put into my hands, and in every situation, in which I had taken part) so completely, if I at all understand you, adopted in your Lordship's book: but it was with pain I broke with that great man for ever in that cause-and I assure you, it is not without pain, that I differ with your Lordship on the same principles. But it is of no concern. I am far below the region of those great and tempestuous passions. I feel nothing of the intemperance of mind. It is rather sorrow and dejection than anger. Once more, my best thanks for your very polite attention, and do me the favour to believe me, with the most perfect sentiments of respect and regard, My dear Lord, Your Lordship's Most obedient and humble Servant, Beaconsfield, Oct. 30th, 1795. MY DEAR LORD, LETTER IV. TO THE EARL FITZWILLIAM. I AM not sure, that the best way of disrussing adversary, the diligent reader has it always in his any subject, except those that concern the ab- power, by resorting to the work examined, to do stracted sciences, is not somewhat in the way justice to the original author and to himself. For of dialogue. To this mode, however, there are two this reason you will not blame me, if, in my disobjections; the first, that it happens, as in the pup-cussion of the merits of a Regicide Peace, I do not pet-show, one man speaks for all the personages. An unnatural uniformity of tone is in a manner unavoidable. The other and more serious objection is, that as the author (if not an absolute sceptick) must have some opinion of his own to enforce, he will be continually tempted to enervate the arguments he puts into the mouth of his adversary, or to place them in a point of view most commodious for their refutation. There is, however, a sort of dialogue not quite so liable to these objections, because it approaches more nearly to truth and nature it is called CONTROVERSY. Here the parties A piece has been sent to me, called, "Remarks speak for themselves. If the writer, who attacks" on the apparent Circumstances of the War in the another's notions, does not deal fairly with his "fourth week of October 1795," with a French choose to trust to my own statements, but to bring |