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green; how various appear the links of this immea. surable chain! how vast the gradations in this universal scale of existence! Yet all these, though ever so rast and various, are the work of the Creator's hand, and are full of his
presence. He rounded in his palm those stupendous globes, which are pendulous in the vault of heaven. He kindled those astonishing bright fires, which fill the firmament with a flood of glory. By Him they are suispended in fluid ether, and cannot be shaken; by Him they dispense a perpetual tide of beams, and are never exhausted. He formed with inexpressible nicety, that delicately fine collection of tubes; that unknown multiplicity of subtile springs, which organize and actuate the frame of the minutest insect.
He bids the crimson current roll; the vital movements play; and associates a world of wonders, even in an animated point. In all these is a signal exhibition of creating power; to all these are extended the special regards of preserving goodness. From hence let me learn to rely on the providence, and to revere the presence, of Supreme Majesty. Amidst that in. conceivable number and variety of beings, which swarm through the regions of creation, not one is overlooked, not one is neglected, by the great Omnipotent Cause of all.
SPEECH OF MR. Fox, IN THE BRITISH PARLIA
MENT, ON AMERICAN AFFAIRS, 1778.
of which you
The war against America has hitherto been carried on against her alone, unassisted by any ally whatever. Notwithstanding she stood alone, you have been obliged uniformly to increase your exertions, and to push your efforts to the extent of your power, without being able to bring it to an issue. You have exerted all your force hitherto without effect, and you cannot now diride a force, found already inadequate to its object.
My opinion is for withdrawing your forces from America entirely; for a defensive war you can never think of there. A defensive war would ruin this na. tion at any time; and in any circumstances, offensive war is pointed out as proper for this country; our situation points it out; and the spirit of the nation impels us to attack rather than defend. Attack France, then, for she is your object. The nature of the wars is quite different: the war against America is against your own countrymen; you have stopped me from saying against your fellow subjects; that against France is against your inveterate enemy and rival. Every blow you strike in America is against yourselves; it is against all idea of reconciliation, and against your own interest, though you should be able, as you never will be, to force them to submit. Every stroke against France is of advantage to you: America must be conquered in France; France never can be conquered in America.
The war of the Americans is a war of passion; it is of such a nature as to be supported by the most powerful virtues, love of liberty and of their coun. try; and, at the same time, by those passions in the human heart which give courage, strength, and perseverance to man; the spirit of revenge for the injuries you have done them;of retaliation forthe hardships you have inflicted on them; and of opposition to the unjust powers you have exercised over them. Every thing combines to animate them to this war, and such a war is without end; for whatever obstinacy enthu. siasm ever inspired man with, you will now find in America. No matter what gives birth to that enthu. siasm; whether the name of religion or of liberty, the effects are the same; it inspires a spirit which is unconquerable, and solicitous to undergo difficulty, danger, and hardship: and as long as there is a man in America, a being formed such as we are, you will have him present himself against you in the field.
The war of France is a war of another sort; the war of France is a war of interest: it was her interest which first induced her to engage in it, and it is by that inter
est that she will measure its continuance. Turn your face at once against her; attack her wherever she is exposed; crush her commerce wherever you can; make her feel heavy and immediate distress throughout the nation: the people will soon cry out to their government. Whilst the advantages she promises herself are remote and uncertain, inflict present evils and distresses upon her subjects: the people will become discontented and clamorous; she will find it a bad bargain, having entered into this business; and you will force her to desert any ally that brings so much trouble and distress upon her.
What is become of the ancient spirit of this nation? Where is the national spirit that ever did honor to this country? Have the present ministry spent that too, with almost the last shilling of your money? Are they not ashamed of the temporizing conduct they have used towards France? Her correspondence-with America has been clandestine. Compare that with their conduct towards Holland, some time ago; but it is the characteristic of little minds to be exact in little things, whilst they shrink from their rights in great
The conduct of France is called clandestine: look back but a year ago to a letter from one of your Secretaries of State to Holland; “ it is with surprise and indignation” your conduct is seen, in something done by a petty governor of an island, while they affect to call the measures of France clandestine. This is the way that ministers support the character of the nation, and the national honor and glory. But look again how that same Holland is spoken of to-day. Even in your correspondence with her, your littleness appears.
From this you may judge of your situation: from this you may know what a state you are reduced to. How will the French party in Holland exult over you, and grow strong! She will never continue your ally, when you meanly crouch to France, and do not dare to stir in your defence! But it is nothing extraordinary that she should not, while you keep the ministers you
have. No power in Europe is blind; there is none blind enough to ally itself with weakness, and become partner in bankruptcy; there is no one blind enough to ally itself to obstinacy, absurdity, and imbecility.
you. I dare
THE CONJURER, A DIALOGUE.
RICHARD and Jack.
did you ever see a conjurer before? Richard. There was one travelled this way before your remembrance; but he' missed his figure very much. I was to have been an officer before this time, according to his predictions; and you, Jack, were to have had a fine rich young lady for your sister-in-law. But he was only an apprentice in the art; no more than A, B, C, to this man. Jack. Ay, he is master of his trade, I warrant
when father comes home, he can tell him which way the thief is gone with our old Trot. Uncle Bluster is coming over here this evening to find out who has got his watch. The conjurer is just gone out to look at the stars. I suppose, after he has viewed them a while, he will tast a figure in his great black-art book in the other room, and tell in a trice what things are stolen, and where they are, to a hair's breadth.
Rich. He must have a hawk's eye to see the stars this evening. Why don't you know, Jack, it is cloudy out o' doors?
Jack. That's nothing with him. He could lork through the clouds with his glass, if it was as dark as Egypt, as easy as you can look into the other
room; or, if he had a mind he could brush away the clouds in a trice, with that long wand he carries in his hand.
Rich. No doubt he is a great almanac maker. I'll be bound he could foretel the weather to a tittle for a thousand years to come. I wish I knew the tenth part as much about the planets as he does.
Jack. So do I. Don't you think our neighbours could hire him to keep our school, instead of Master Thinkwell? I believe he has fifty times as much learn. ing. Aunt Betty told me this afternoon, that he knew every star in the sky as well as I do the cattle in our stable; and that he was as well acquainted with every crook and turn in the milky-way, as I am with the road to mill. They say he rode round to all the planets one night, in a chaise made of moonlight, drawn by flying horses.
Conjurer. [Without in a grum hollow voice.] Hoc noxe conventio planetorum tenetur est in domus Jovum.
Rich. Hark! he is going by the window: don't you hear him talking to himself?
Fack. What a strange language he uses! He is talking to the man in the moon, I dare say. He will go into the back room and cast a figure now: I will look through the key-hole and see him. [Exit Jack.
Rich. [Solus.] What a prodigious learned man this conjurer must be! I should suppose he had read all the books in the world, and conversed with spirits a hundred years, to know as much as he does.
Enter THINKWELL. I am glad to see you, Master Thinkwell. Have you heard the rare news of the conjurer that is come to town?
Thinkwell. Yes, and I am informed he has taken up lodgings at your house to-night. You are greatly honored to be sure.
Rich. He is a very extraordinary man, I'll assure you.
Think. So far I agree with you, Richard. I believe he is an extraordinary man, and an extraordinary impostor too.
Rich. You are always on the side of contraries, Master Thinkwell; but every body is not of so stubborn faith as you. Why, there is as great a stir in town as