North, to the utter astonishment of all who heard him, gave notice that he had another plan of conciliation to offer.

The annals of the whole world do not present a system of such incorrigible absurdities, as that pursued by Lord North, in relation to America. No want of success, no calamities, no experience, could teach him wisdom. The disgraceful evacuation of Boston by Sir William Howe, the unsuccessful attempt of Sir Henry Clinton and Sir Peter Parker, upon Charleston, the defeat and surrender of ten thousand troops under General Burgoyne at Saratoga, the ridiculous issue of the ridiculous negotiation entrusted to Lord Howe and his brother at New York, the knowledge which he had of the conclusion of à Treaty between France and the United States, were all insufficient to awaken Lord North to a sense of his ignorance and incompetence. The same means which had proved ineffectual at the very birth of our independence, were resorted to, now that that independence was confirmed and strengthened by the acknowledgment and alliance of a foreign power. Lord North's plan of conciliation would hardly have succeeded even before the glorious era of 1776; he must have known therefore, that there was not the remotest prospect of its success on the 17th of February 1778, when he proposed it. A "Bill for removing all doubts and apprehensions concerning taxation by the Parliament of Great Britain in any of the Colonies and Plantations in North America," and "a Bill to enable his Majesty to appoint Commissioners, with sufficient powers to treat, consult, and argue upon the means of quieting the disorders now subsisting in certain of the Colonies in America," formed the present conciliatory scheme of this

blind and obstinate Minister. He confessed that he meant to give up the notion of taxing America, and that the Commissioners should be authorised to treat with Congress as with a legal body, and further that he did not mean to insist on a preliminary renunciation of independence as a sine qua non of that treaty. What could have been his Lordship's views, it is utterly impossible to comprehend. He meant to do every thing but acknowledge the independence of America, and that independence he did not require of them to renounce, for the present. It would be difficult indeed to conceive, what advantages his Lordship expected to flow from a measure so ridiculously absurd. He saw, but was afraid to acknowledge it even to himself, that it was impossible to force America to recede from the stand she had taken, or he would not have consented to treat with Congress as if it were a legal body. He must have seen the impracticability of compelling her to renounce her independence, or he would have insisted upon the renunciation, as a preliminary step to the treaty which he talked about entering into. And what must have been the kind of treaty which his Lordship expected to form with rebellious subjects, to whom he was holding out the promise of pardon? If they had rejected with indignation, and even with contempt, the offer of pardon which had been made to them while they were actually rebellious subjects, what benefit did he expect from its repitition, now that they no longer acknowledged themselves the subjects of his Britannick Majesty? But it would be useless to attempt to fathom his Lordship's views. In the language of Mr. Fox, "his arguments might be collected into one point, his excuses comprised in one apology, in one single

word-ignorance, a palpable and total ignorance of every part of the subject. He hoped, and he was disappointed-he expected a great deal, and found little to answer his expectations-he thought America would have submitted to his laws, and she had resisted them he thought she would have submitted to his armies, and she had defeated them-he made conciliatory propositions, and he thought they would succeed, but they were rejected-he appointed Commissioners to make peace, and he thought they had powers; but he found that they could not make peace, and that they had no powers."

This was indeed precisely the situation of his Lordship. He had brought himself into a labyrinth of difficulties, from which he had no clue to extricate him. He had depended upon his own sagacity, and had found it incompetent to his support; he had thought himself wiser than his predecessors, and found himself only more obstinate. But unfortunately for his Lordship's reputation as a Statesman, he had still too much influence in the Parliament, to permit him to see the degradation to which he was hurrying himself and his country. His Conciliatory Bills were passed, and Lord Carlisle, Mr. Eden, and Mr. Johnstone, were appointed the Commissioners. We shall soon

see with what effect their mission to America was attended.

During the present session of the British Parliament, the Earl of Chatham, for the last time, made his appearance in the House of Peers. Having been apprized that the subject of American affairs, in which he had never ceased to feel the most lively interest, would occupy the attention of the Grand Committee of Inquiry, on the 7th of April, his Lordship, bowed

down as he was with the weight of years, and still more enfeebled by disease, entered the House, supported by his son, and Lord Viscount Mahon. We shall be excused by our American readers, for dwelling a few moments, upon this last exhibition of one of the best and greatest men that ever appeared in the councils of any nation, when they remember, that the Earl of Chatham devoted the best years of his life, the most vigorous efforts of his towering genius, to the defence of the rights and privileges of America, and to the promotion of her prosperity and happiness. And, that though he may appear in this closing scene of his life, to have receded from the noble stand which he had always made against every attempt to fetter the freedom of America, it was not that he loved America less, but England more. The alliance of France, it cannot be doubted, had a powerful influence in determining his Lordship to oppose the recognition of American independence. Had America still been struggling single handed, against her mercenary foes, Lord Chatham would have died breathing a prayer for her success: but the acknowledgment of her independence now, would carry with it the appearance of concession to the House of Bourbon; and his Lordship was too much an Englishman to forget his hatred to France.

At his Lordship's entrance into the House, every Nobleman arose, as if with one impulse, to show their veneration and respect for his character. His pale and emaciated countenance, his enfeebled limbs wrapped in flannel, formed a melancholy contrast to the fire which still lighted his eye, and which this day's exertions were doomed to quench forever. As soon as the House were recovered from the emotions which 22

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his entrance had excited, the Duke of Richmond rose to move an address to the King on the state of the nation. In the course of his Grace's speech, he distinctly avowed his belief, that the independence of America was already established, and that an immediate acknowledgment of it would be the wisest course that could be pursued. Lord Chatham rose to reply to his Grace, and the attention of the House was rivetted upon his tottering frame. He lamented that his infirmities had kept him so long from Parliament, and declared that his present effort was almost beyond the powers of his constitution-that it was probably the last time he should ever be able to enter the House: but, said he, " My Lords, I rejoice that the grave has not yet closed upon me-that I am still alive to lift up my voice against an acknowledgment of the sovereignty of America, against the dismemberment of this ancient and noble monarchy. Pressed down as I am by the load of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this most perilous conjuncture: but, my Lords, while I have sense and memory, I never will consent to tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its rights and fairest possessions. Shall a people so lately the terrour of the world, now fall prostrate before the House of Bourbon? It is impossible. I am not, I confess, well informed of the resources of this kingdom, but I trust it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights, though I know them not.-Any state, my Lords, is better than despair. Let us at least make an effort-and, if we must fall, let us fall like men."

The Duke of Richmond got up to reply, and with the most profound respect of language and manner, urged his Lordship to point out the means by which