house were not always true. As you probabl them, I shall not repeat them here. On the am not surprised that the same trite objection ally renewed by the detractors of our national aff on the other hand, I am gratified in perceivi balance of trade seems to be now computed i much clearer than it used to be from those err formerly noticed. The inspector-general appea made his estimate with every possible guard and ca opinion is entitled to the greatest respect. It stance, (I shall again use the words of the Repo better than my own,) "That the true balance o amounted, on a medium of the four years precedin 1796, to upwards of £6,500,000 per annum, exclu profits arising from our East and West-Indią ti he estimates at upwards of £4,000,000 per annun of the profits derived from our fisheries." So that the fisheries, and making a moderate allowance ceedings, which Mr. Irving himself supposes, calculation, without reckoning what the public cred selves pay to themselves, and without taking o from the stock of the landed interest; our col Oriental possessions, our skill and industry, our and navigation, at the commencement of this pouring a new annual capital into the kingdom; I a million short of the whole interest of that tremen from which we are taught to shrink in dismay, a overwhelming and intolerable oppression. If then the real state of this nation is such as scribed, and I am only apprehensive that you ma have taken too much pains to exclude all doub question; if no class is lessened in its numbers, stock, or in its convenience, or even its luxuries build as many habitations, and as elegant and as dious as ever, and furnish them with every chargeal ation, and every prodigality of ingenious invention. be thought of by those who even encumber their n with superfluous accommodation; if they are as nu attended; if their equipages are as splendid; if th at table with as much or more variety of plenty than they are clad in as expensive and changeful a diversit ing 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 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 gigantic 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 public 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 VOL. V. 2 A honour. They have again delegated the greatest they have to bestow, to those faithful represe made their true voice heard against the distur stroyers of Europe. They suffered, with unappr escence, solicitations, which they had in no shap an unjust and usurping power, whom they had voked, and whose hostile menaces they did not di the exigencies of the public service could only their voluntary zeal, they started forth with an a outstripped the wishes of those who had injur doubting whether it might not be necessary to h to compulsion. They have in all things repose ing, but not an unreflecting, confidence. That demands a full return, and fixes a responsibility isters entire and undivided. The people stand if the war is not carried on in a manner suited to If the public honour is tarnished; if the public s any detriment; the ministers, not the people, ar it, and they alone. Its armies, its navies, are gi without stint or restriction. Its treasures are po their feet. Its constancy is ready to second all t They are not to fear a responsibility for acts of venture. The responsibility which they are to d they should show themselves unequal to the expe brave people. The more doubtful may be the co and economical questions upon which they have marked a support, the more loudly they are call support this great war, for the success of which th is willing to supersede considerations of no slight i Where I speak of responsibility, I do not mean that species of it which the legal powers of the co a right finally to exact from those who abuse a pu but high as this is, there is a responsibility whi on them, from which the whole legitimate pow kingdom cannot absolve them; there is a respo conscience and to glory; a responsibility to th world, and to that posterity, which men of their cannot avoid for glory or for shame; a respons tribunal, at which, not only ministers, but kings a ments, but even nations themselves, must one day LETTER FROM LORD AUCKLAND TO THE RIGHT MY DEAR SIR, Eden Farm, Kent, Oct. 28th, 1795. Though in the stormy ocean of the last twenty-three 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, 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 public 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 yours, Rt Hble Edmd Burke. AUCKLAND. LETTER FROM THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDMUND MY DEAR LORD, I am perfectly sensible of the very flattering honour you have done me in turning any part of your attention towards a dejected old man, buried in the anticipated grave of ave always done justice avor. The care and of the ship's me we are on different tacks. te meper. Dean sail no E to your good in even port. Sh To have an idea of vac ou lave often use ranks tough and hard rave the curets of the Bay of ter varred grain and empt Utes. G ery /vrescoed mies for the enclosure mene ery great measure.. Perhaps Ic perfectly comment or purpose, and the dir arguments. I to pray to not attribute |