This continent, sir, is too extensive to sleep
all at once, and too watchful, even in its slumbers, not to startle at
the unhallowed foot of an invader. You may issue your proclamations,
and welcome, for we have learned to "reverence ourselves," and scorn
the insulting ruffian that employs you. America, for your deceased
brother's sake, would gladly have shown you respect and it is a new
aggravation to her feelings, that Howe should be forgetful, and
raise his sword against those, who at their own charge raised a
monument to his brother. But your master has commanded, and you have
not enough of nature left to refuse. Surely there must be something
strangely degenerating in the love of monarchy, that can so completely
wear a man down to an ingrate, and make him proud to lick the dust
that kings have trod upon. A few more years, should you survive
them, will bestow on you the title of "an old man": and in some hour
of future reflection you may probably find the fitness of Wolsey's
despairing penitence- "had I served my God as faithful as I have
served my king, he would not thus have forsaken me in my old age."
The character you appear to us in, is truly ridiculous. Your
friends, the Tories, announced your coming, with high descriptions
of your unlimited powers; but your proclamation has given them the
lie, by showing you to be a commissioner without authority. Had your
powers been ever so great they were nothing to us, further than we
pleased; because we had the same right which other nations had, to
do what we thought was best.
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