in a'ge, has rece'ded from virtue, and becomes more-wicked/ with le'ss te'mptation;-who prostitutes himself for money/ which he cannot enj'oy, and spends the remains of his life/. in the ruin of his country. But you'th, Sir, is not my only crime; I have been accused of acting a theatrical-part. (A theatrical-part/ may either imply some peculiarities of ge'sture, or/a dissimulation of my real-sentiments, and an ado ́ption of the opinions and language of another-man.)

In the first-sense, Si'r, the charge is too tri'fling to be conf'uted, and deserves only to be mentioned, that it may be despi'sed. I am at liberty (like every o'ther-man) to use my o'wn language; and though, perhaps, I may have some ambi'tion/ to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any restraint, n'or/ very soli'citously/ co'py his dic'tion or his mi'en, (howe`ver matured by a'ge, or modelled by experience.) But, if an'y-man sh'all, by charging me with theatrical beh'aviour, impl'y, that I utter a'ny-sentiments/ bu't my o'wn, I shall treat him as a calumniator, and a villain;-nor shall any protection sh'elter-him/ from the trea'tment/ he deserves. I sh'all (on such an occasion, without sc'ruple,) trample upon all those forms/ with which we'alth and dignity/ intr'ench the'mselves,-nor/ shall a'ny-thing/ bu't* a'ge/ restra'in my rese'ntment; age, which always brings on'e-privilege, that of being in'solent and super'cilious without punishment. But with regard, Sir, to tho'se/ whom I have offended, I am of opinion, that if I had acted a borrowed part, I should have avoided their ce'nsure: the he'at/ that offe'nded them/ is the a'rdour of conviction, and that'-zeal/ for the service of my country, which neither ho'pe nor fea'r/ shall in'fluence me to suppress. I will not sit u'nconcerned while my lib'erty is invaded, nor look in silence/ upon pu'blic-robbery. I will exert my endeavours, at whatever ha'zard, to repel the Aggr'essor, and drag the Thi'ef to justice,-whoever may protec't him in his villany, and whoever may pa'rtake of his plun`der!

* "But," thus placed, it will be recollected, requires considerable accentual force.

SPEECH ON EMPLOYING INDIANS TO FIGHT AGAINST THE AMERICANS.

RIGHT HON. WM. PITT-(Lord Chatham.)

I CANNOT, my lo'rds,-I wi'll-not-join/ in congratulation on misfortune and disgr'ace. Th'is, my lor'ds, is a perilous and tremen'dous-moment: it is not a time for adul'ation: the smoothness of fla^ttery/ cannot sa've us in this rugged and a'wful cr'isis.

The desperate state of our army abroad, i's, in p'art, kno'wn. No man more highly este ́ems and hon`ours-the-English troops/ than I'-do: I know their virtues and their va'lour: I know they can achieve a'ny-thing/ bu't impossib'ilities; and I kn`ow/ that the conquest of En'glish-America/ is an impossibility.

You cannot-my lor'ds! you cannot conquer America.What is your present situation the`re? We do not know the wo'rst; but we know, that, in three camp'aigns, we have do'ne no'thing, and suffered much. You may swell e'very expen'se, accumulate every as'sistance, and extend your t'raffic to the sham'bles of every German d'espot; your attempts will be for ever v'ain and im'potent:-dou'bly so, inde'ed, from this mercenary-aid/ on which you re'ly; fo'r/ it i'rritates, (to an incurable rese'ntment,) the minds of your a'dversaries, to overr'un them/ with the mercenary sons of ra'pine and plunder; devoting the'm and their pos'sessions/ to the rapacity-of hire'ling-cruelty.

Bu't, my lo'rds! who is the ma'n, tha't, in addi`tion to the disgra'ces and mis'chiefs of the wa'r, has dared to authorize, and associate to our arms, the to'mahawk and sc'alping-knife of the s'avage?—to c'all (into civilized-alliance) the wild and inhu`man-inhabitants of the woods?—to d'elegate (to the merciless In'dian) the defen'ce of disputed rights? and to w'age the ho`rrors of his barbarous w'arfare/ against our br'ethren?

My lords-these-enormities/ cry alo'ud/ for redress and for pu^nishment.

B'ut, this barbarous-measure/ has been defe'nded, not only on the principles of policy and necessity, but, also on those of morality; "for/ it is perfectly allo'wable," says a noble Lo'rd, (Suffolk,) "to use all the means that God and Nature/ have put into our hands."

I am astonished, I am sho^cked, to hear su'ch-principles/confe^ssed:-to hear them avo'wed in this Ho'use, or in this country.

My lords, I did not intend to encroach so much on your att'ention; but I cannot repre'ss my indign'ation:-I feel myself impelled/ to speak. We are called upon, as members of this House,-as me'n,-as Christians, to protest against such h'orrible barba`rity !

"That Go'd and Nat'ure have put into our ha'nds !”— What ideas of Go'd and N'ature, that noble lor'd may en'tertain, I know n'ot; but I kno`w, that such detestable pri'nciples are equally abh'orrent to reli'gion and hum'anity. Wh'at!-attribute the sacred sanction of Go'd and Na'ture/ to the massacres of the I'ndian-scalping-knife !-to the cannibal-savage, tor'turing, mur'dering, dev'ouring, drinking the blood of his man'gled-victims! Su'ch-notions/ shock every pr'ecept of morality-every feeling of huma'nity-every se'ntiment of honour. These abo'minable-principles, and this mor`eabominable avoˇwal-of-them, demand the most deci`sive-indignation.

I call upon that right r'everend, and this most le'arnedBench, to vindicate the religion of their G'od;-to support the justice of their country. I call upon the bishops/ to interpose the unsullied-sanctity of their la'wn,-upon the judges/ to interpose the purity of their e'rmine,-to sa've us/ from this pollution. I call upon the honour of your lo'rdships, to reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your o'wn. I call upon the s'pirit and humanity of my country, to vin'dicate the national-character. I invoke the ge'nius of the constitution.

From the tapestry/ that adorns these w'alls, the immortal ancestor of this noble lo'rd/* frowns, with indign'ation, at the disgrace of his country. In va'in/ did he defend the liberty, and establish the religion of Britain, against the tyranny of Ro'me; if these wo'rse/ than Po'pish-cruelties/ and inquisit'orial practices/ are endu'red/ among us. To send forth the merciless c'annibal, thirsting for blood!-against who'm ?— Your Protestant bre'thren!-to lay wa'ste their country-to de'solate their dw'ellings, and exti'rpate their ra'ce and na'me, by the ai'd and instrumen'tality of these horrible-savages !

* Lord Howard of Effingham, the successful commander-in-chief of Queen Elizabeth's naval forces employed against the celebrated Spanish Armada, in 1588.

Spain/ can no longer bo'ast pre-eminence in barb'arity. She armed herself with blo'od-hounds, to extir'pate the wretched natives of M'exico; we (mo're ru'thless) loose those brutal wa'rriors/ against our countrymen in Am'erica,-endea red-tous/ by every t'ie/ that can sa'nctify huma`nity.

I solemnly call upon your lordships, and upon every order of me`n in the state, to stam'p/ upon this in'famous-procedure the indelible stigma of public abhor`rence. More particularly, I call upon the venerable prelates of our religion, to do away this iniquity. Let the'm perform a lustr'ation, to purify the country/ from this de'ep and de'adly-sin.

My lor'ds, I am ol'd and we'ak; an'd, at present, una'ble to say mo're; but my feelings and indign'ation/ were too stro'ng/ to allow me to say less. I could not have slept this ni'ght/ in my be'd, nor reposed my hea'd upon my p'illow, without giving ve'nt/ to my steadfast-abhorrence of such enormous and prepo'sterous-principles.

CHARACTER OF THE EARL OF CHATHAM. RIGHT HON. HENRY GRATTAN.

THE se'cretary/ stood alone. Mo'dern-degeneracy/ had not rea'ched-him. Öriginal and u'naccommodating, the features of his character/ had the ha'rdihood of antiquity. His' august mi'nd/ overawed majesty itself. No st'ate chica nery, no narrow system of vi'cious politics, no idle-cont'est for ministerial victories, sunk him to the vulgar level of the great; bu't, overbearing, persuasive, and impracticable, his object was En'gland, his amb'ition was fam'e. Without div'iding, he destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal a'ge/ una'nimous. Fr'ance/ sunk beneath him. With o`ne-hand/ he sm'ote the house of Bourb'on, and wiel'ded/ in the other/ the democracy of England. The sight of his mi'nd/ was in'finite; and his schemes/ wer'e to aff'ect, not E'ngland, not the present age o'nly, but Europe and poste'rity. Won'derful were the m'eans by which these sche'mes were accomplished; always se'asonable, always a'dequate, the suggestions of an understa'nding/ animated by a'rdour, and enlightened/ by prophecy.

The ordinary feelings/ which make life am'iable and i'ndolent/ were unkno`wn to him. No domestic difficulties, no

domestic we^akness/ reached hiˇm: b'ut, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its intercourse, he ca'me/ occasionally into our s'ystem, to counsel and to deci'de.

A character/ so ex'alted, so stre'nuous, so vari'ous, and authoritative, astonished a corrupt ag'e, and the Treasury/ trembled at the name of Pitt/ through all her classes of vena'lity! Corruption imagined, inde'ed, that she had found defects in this state'sman, and talked/ mu'ch of the inconsi'stency of his glo`ry, and mu'ch of the ru'in of his victories; b'ut, the hi'story of his country, and the calamities of the e'nemy, an'swered, and refuted her.

Nor were his political-abilities/ his on'ly-talents. His eˇloquence/ was an e'ra in the s'enate, peculiar and spontaneous, familiarly-expressing/ gigantic se'ntiments and instin'ctive w'isdom: not like the torrent of Demo'sthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tu'lly; it resem'bled/ some times the thunder, and sometimes/ the music of the spheres. He did not conduct the understanding/ through the painful su'btilty of argument'ation; nor was he for ever on the ra'ck of ex'ertion; but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point/ by the fla'shings of the mi`nd, whi'ch, (like thos`e of his eye,) were fe'lt, but could not be followed.

Upon the whole, there wa's in this-man something/ that could create, sub'vert, or refo`rm; an understanding, a spi'rit, and an eloquence, to summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asu'nder, and to rule the wild'ness of freeminds/ with unbounded authority; something/ that could esta'blish or overwhelm emp'ire, and strike a blo'w in the world/ that should resou'nd/ through the universe.

EULOGY ON THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM PITT.
CANNING.

Ir hushed the loud whirlwind/* that ruffled the de'ep,
The sk'y/ if no longer dark tempests def'orm;
When our perils are pa'st, shall our gratitude sleep?
No-here's to the Pi'lot/ that weathered-the-storm!

* In grave and solemn poetry, and in the "Sacred Scriptures," I would recommend that this compound-noun, as well as "wind," should be pronounced with the long I, so as to rhyme with "hind.”