er persons to rescue you from it? No, my Lords, such an expectation would be preposterous and absurd. I say, my Lords, you are now specially called upon to interpose. It is your duty to forego every call of business and pleasure, to give up your whole time to inquire into past misconduct; to provide remedies for the present; to prevent future evils; to rest on your arms, if I may use the expression, to watch for the public safety; to defend and support the Throne, and, if Fate should so ordain it, to fall with becoming fortitude, with the rest of your fellow-subjects, in the general ruin. I fear this last must be the event of this mad, unjust, and cruel war. It is your Lordships' duty to do every thing in your power that it shall not; but, if it must be so, I trust your Lordships and the nation will fall gloriously.

My Lords, as the first and most immediate object of your inquiry, I would recommend to you to consider the true state of our home defense. We have heard much from a noble Lord in this House of the state of our navy. I can not give an implicit belief to all I have heard on that important subject. I still retain my former opinion relative to the number of line of battle ships; but as an inquiry into the real state of the navy is destined to be the subject of future consideration, I do not wish to hear any more about it till that period arrives. I allow, in argument, that we have thirty-five ships of the line fit for actual service. I doubt much whether such a force would give us full command of the Channel. I am certain, if it did, every other part of our possessions must lie naked and defenseless, in every quarter of the globe.

the last war, it was thought advisable to levy in dependent companies. They were, when com pleted, formed into two battalions, and proved of great service. I love the army. I know its use. But I must nevertheless own that I was a great friend to the measure of establishing a na. tional militia. I remember, the last war, that there were three camps formed of that corps at once in this kingdom. I saw them myself-one at Winchester, another in the west, at Plymouth, and a third, if I recollect right, at Chatham. Whether the militia is at present in such a state as to answer the valuable purposes it did then, or is capable of being rendered so, I will not pretend to say; but I see no reason why, in such a critical state of affairs, the experiment should not be made, and why it may not be put again on the former respectable footing. I remember, all circumstances considered, when appearances were not near so melancholy and alarming as they are, that there were more troops in the county of Kent alone, for the defense of the kingdom, than there are now in the whole island.

My Lords, I contend that we have not, nor can procure any force sufficient to subdue America. It is monstrous to think of it. There are several noble Lords present, well acquainted with military affairs. I call upon any one of them to rise and pledge himself that the military force now within the kingdom is adequate to its defense, or that any possible force to be procured from Germany, Switzerland, or elsewhere, will be equal to the conquest of America. I am too perfectly persuaded of their abilities and in. tegrity to expect any such assistance from them. Oh! but if America is not to be conquered, she may be treated with. Conciliation is at length thought of. Terms are to be offered. Who are the persons that are to treat on the part of this afflicted and deluded country? The very men who have been the authors of our misfortunes. The very men who have endeavored, by the most pernicious policy, the highest injustice and op

I fear our utter destruction is at hand. What, my Lords, is the state of our military defense? I would not wish to expose our present weakness; but, weak as we are, if this war should be continued, as the public declaration of persons in high confidence with their sovereign would induce us to suppose, is this nation to be entirely stripped? And if it should, would every soldier now in Britain be sufficient to give us an equal-pression, the most cruel and devastating war, to ity to the force of America? I will maintain they would not. Where, then, will men be procured? Recruits are not to be had in this country. Germany will give no more. I have read in the newspapers of this day, and I have reason to believe it true, that the head of the Germanic body has remonstrated against it, and has taken measures accordingly to prevent it. Ministers have, I hear, applied to the Swiss Cantons. The idea is preposterous. The Swiss never permit their troops to go beyond sea. But, my Lords, even if men were to be procured in Germany, how will you march them to the water side? Have not our ministers applied for the port of Embden, and has it not been refused? I say, you will not be able to procure men even for your home defense, if some immediate steps be not taken. I remember, during

enslave those people they would conciliate, to gain the confidence and affection of those who have survived the Indian tomahawk and German bayonet. Can your Lordships entertain the most distant prospect of success from such a treaty and such negotiations? No, my Lords, the Americans have virtue, and they must detest the principles of such men. They have understanding, and too much wisdom to trust to the cunning and narrow politics which must cause such overtures on the part of their merciless persecutors. My Lords, I maintain that they would shun, with a mixture of prudence and detesta. tion, any proposition coming from that quarter. They would receive terms from such men as snares to allure and betray. They would dread them as ropes meant to be put about their legs, in order to entangle and overthrow them in certain ruin. My Lords, supposing that our domestic danger, if at all, is far distant; that our enemies will leave us at liberty to prosecute this 3 This was afterward done.

sacre and devastation to their true authors, sup. posed that, as soldiers and Englishmen, those cruel excesses could not have originated with the general, nor were consonant to the brave and humane spirit of a British soldier, if not com. pelled to it as an act of duty. They traced the first cause of those diabolic orders to their true source; and, by that wise and generous interpretation, granted their professed destroyers term of capitulation which they could be only entitled to as the makers of fair and honorable war.

war to the utmost of our ability; suppose your Lordships should grant a fleet one day, an army another; all these, I do affirm, will avail nothing, unless you accompany it with advice. Ministers have been in error; experience has proved t; and, what is worse, they continue it. They tol you, in the beginning, that 15,000 men would traverse all America, without scarcely an appearance of interruption. Two campaigns have passed since they gave us this assurance. Treble that number have been employed; and one of your armies, which composed two thirds of My Lords, I should not have presumed to the force by which America was to be subdued, trouble you, if the tremendous state of this nation has been totally destroyed, and is now led cap- did not, in my opinion, make it necessary. Such tive through those provinces you call rebellious. as I have this day described it to be, I do mainThose men whom you called cowards, poltroons, tain it is. The same measures are still persistrunaways, and knaves, are become victorious ed in; and ministers, because your Lordships over your veteran troops; and, in the midst of have been deluded, deceived, and misled, pre.. victory, and the flush of conquest, have set min-sume that, whenever the worst comes, they will isters an example of moderation and magnanimity well worthy of imitation.

My Lords, no time should be lost which may promise to improve this disposition in America, unless, by an obstinacy founded in madness, we wish to stifle those embers of affection which, after all our savage treatment, do not seem, as yet, to have been entirely extinguished. While on one side we must lament the unhappy fate of that spirited officer, Mr. Burgoyne, and the gallant troops under his command, who were sacrificed to the wanton temerity and ignorance of ministers, we are as strongly compelled, on the other, to admire and applaud the generous, magnanimous conduct, the noble friendship, brotherly affection, and humanity of the victors, who, condescending to impute the horrid orders of mas

be enabled to shelter themselves behind Parlia ment. This, my Lords, can not be the case. They have committed themselves and their measures to the fate of war, and they must abide the issue. I tremble for this country. I am almost led to despair that we shall ever be able tc extricate ourselves. At any rate, the day of ret. ribution is at hand, when the vengeance of a much-injured and afflicted people will, I trust, fall heavily on the authors of their ruin; and I am strongly inclined to believe, that before the day to which the proposed adjournment shall ar rive, the noble earl who moved it will have just cause to repent of his motion.

This appeal was unavailing. The motion to adjourn was carried by a vote of 47 to 18.

LAST SPEECH

OF LORD CHATHAM, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, APRIL 7, 1778.

INTRODUCTION.

AFTER the delivery of the preceding speech, Lord Chatham continued to decline in health, and would probably never have appeared again in the House of Lords, had not a measure been proposed, against which he felt bound to enter a public remonstrance, even at the hazard of his life. Ignorant of the real state of feeling in America, he thought the colonies might be still brought back to their former allegiance and affection, if their wrongs were redressed. He learned, therefore, "with unspeakable concern," that his friend the Duke of Richmond was about to move an address to the King, advising his Majesty to make a peace involving American independence, which Lord Chatham thought would be the ruin of his country. On the 7th of April, 1778, therefore, the day appointed for the Duke of Richmond's motion, he came to Westminster, and refreshed himself for a time in the room of the Lord Chancellor, until he learn ed that business was about to commence. "He was then led into the House of Peers," says his biographer," by his son, the Honorable William Pitt, and his son-in-law, Lord Mahon. He was dressed in a rich suit of black velvet, and covered up to the knees in flannel. Within his large wig, little more of his countenance was seen than his aquiline nose, and his penetrating eye, which retained all its native fire. He looked like a dying man, yet never was seen a figure of more dignity. He appeared like a being of a superior species. The Lords stood up and made a lane for him to pass to his seat, while, with a grace. fulness of deportment for which he was so eminently distinguished, he bowed to them as he proceeded. Having taken his seat, he listened with profound attention to the Duke of Richmond's speech."

After Lord Weymouth had replied in behalf of the ministry, Lord Chatham rose with slowness and dif ficulty from his seat, and delivered the following speech. It is very imperfectly reported, and is interesting chiefly as showing "the master spirit strong in death;" for he sunk under the effort, and arvived only a few days. Supported by his two relations, he lifted his hand fm the crutch cn which he 1 aned, raised it up, and, casting his eyes toward heaven, commenced as follows:

SPEECH, &c.

["The reverence, the attention, the stillness of the House," said an eye-witness, "were here most affecting had any one dropped a handker-tracted error, or who, instead of acting on a firm, chief, the noise would have been heard."

LORD MANSFIELD.

WILLIAM MURRAY, first Earl of Mansfield, was born at Scone Castle, near Perth, in Scotland, on the 2d of March, 1705. He was the fourth son of Lord Stormont, head of an ancient but decayed family, which had been reduced to comparative poverty by a long course of extravagance. The title having been conferred by James I., Lord Stor mont, like his predecessors, remained true to the cause of the Stuarts. His second son, Lord Dunbar, was private secretary to the Pretender.

William was sent to London for his education at a very early age; and hence Johnson used sportively to maintain, that his success in after life ought not to be put to the credit of his country, since it was well known that "much might be made of a Scotchman if he was caught young." Not a little, however, had been done for William be fore he left the grammar-school of Perth. Though but fourteen years old, he could read quite freely in the Latin classics; he knew a large part of Sallust and Horace by heart; and was able not only to write Latin correctly, but to speak it with accuracy and ease. It is not surprising, therefore, considering his native quickness of mind, that within a year after he joined Westminster school, he gained its highest distinction, that of being chosen one of the King's scholars. He soon stood as "" dux," or leader of the school; and, at the end of four years, after a rigorous examination, was put first on the list of those who were to be sent to Oxford, on the foundation at Christ Church. His choice had for some time been firmly fixed upon the law as a profession; and nothing could so gratify his feelings or advance his interests as to enter the University. But the straitened circumstances of his father seemed to forbid the thought; and he was on the point of giving up his most ardent wishes in despair, when a casual conversation with a young friend opened the way for his being placed at Oxford, with an honorable provision for his support. Lord Foley, father of the friend referred to, having heard of his superior abilities, and his strong attachment to the law, generously offered to assist him with the requisite means, to be repaid only in the event of his succeeding in after life.

During his residence at Oxford, he gave himself to study with that fervor and diligence for which he was always distinguished, quickened by a sense of the responsibilities he had incurred, and by a fixed resolve to place himself at the head of his profession. He made every thing subservient to a preparation for the bar; and while, in the spirit of that university, he studied Aristotle with delight as the great master of reasoning and thought, he devoted his most earnest efforts to improvement in oratory. He read every thing that had been written on the principles of the art; he made himself familiar with all the great masters of eloquence in Greece and Rome, and spent much of his time in translating their finest productions as the best means of improving his style. Cicero was his favorite author; and he declared, in after life, that there was not one of his orations which he had not, while at Oxford, translated into English, and, after an interval, according to the best of his ability, re-translated into Latin.

Having taken his degree at the age of twenty-two, he entered on the study of the law at Lincoln's Inn in 1737. His labors were now conducted on the broadest scale. While law had the precedence, he carried on the practice of oratory with the utmost zeal. To aid him in extemporaneous speaking, he joined a debating society, where the most abstruse legal points were fully discussed. For these exercises, he prepared himself beforehand with such copiousness and accuracy, that the notes he used proved highly valuable in after life, both at the bar and on the bench. He found time, also. to pursue his historical studies to such an extent, that Lord Campbell speaks of his fa

iarity with modern history as "astounding and even appalling, for it prouuces a painful consciousness of inferiority, and creates remorse for time misspent." Wher called to the bar in 1730, "he had made himself acquainted not only with interna tional law, but with the codes of all the most civilized nations, ancient and modern; ne was an elegant classical scholar; he was thoroughly imbued with the literature of his own country; he had profoundly studied our mixed constitution; he had a sincere desire to be of service to his country; and he was animated by a noble aspiration after honorable fame."

When he first came to London as a boy in Westminster school, he was introduced oy his countryman, Lord Marchmont, to Mr. Pope, then at the height of his unrivaled popularity. The poet took a lively interest in the young Scotchman, attracted not only by the quickness of his parts and the fineness of his manners and person, but by "the silvery tones of his voice," for which he continued to be distinguished to the end of life. Mr. Pope entered with the warmest concern into all his employments, and as sisted especially in his rhetorical studies during his preparation for the bar. One day. says his biographer, he was surprised by a friend, who suddenly entered the room, in "the act of practicing before a glass, while Pope sat by to aid him in the character of an instructor!" Their friendship continued throughout life; and in a new edition of the Dunciad Mr. Pope introduced his name, with that of other distinguished men, complaining that law and politics should have drawn them off from the more congenial pursuits of literature.

Some years elapsed after Mr. Murray's call to the bar before he had any business of importance; and then, after a few successful cases, it poured in upon him to absolute repletion. From a few hundred pounds a year," said he, "I found myself in the receipt of thousands." Retainers came in from every quarter; and one of a thousand guineas was sent by Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, with that ostentatious munificence which she sometimes affected. Nine hundred and ninety-five guineas were returned by Mr. Murray, with the significant remark that "a retaining fee was never more noi less than five guineas." He found her a very troublesome client. Not unfrequently she made her appearance at his chambers after midnight, crowding the street with her splendid equipage and her attendants with torches; and on one occasion when he was absent, his clerk, giving an account of her visit the next morning, said, "I could not make out, sir, who she was, for she would not tell me her name; but she swore so dreadfully that she must have been a lady of quality!"

Soon after the fall of Sir Robert Walpole in 1742, Mr. Murray was appointed Solicitor General, and elected a member of Parliament through the influence of the Duke of Newcastle. His powerful talents were needed for the support of the new administra tion, which was suffering under the vehement attacks of Mr. Pitt. llent commenced that long series of conflicts which divided for life the two most accomplished crators of the age. It could not be otherwise, for never were two men more completely the an tipodes of each other. Pitt was a Whig; Murray was a High Tory. Pitt was ar dent, open, and impetuous; Murray was cool, reserved, and circumspect. The intellect of Pitt was bold and commanding; that of Murray was subtle, penetrating, and