Like
Alexander, she has made war her sport, and inflicted misery for
prodigality's sake. The blood of India is not yet repaid, nor the
wretchedness of Africa yet requited. Of late she has enlarged her list
of national cruelties by her butcherly destruction of the Caribbs of
St. Vincent's, and returning an answer by the sword to the meek prayer
for "Peace, liberty and safety." These are serious things, and
whatever a foolish tyrant, a debauched court, a trafficking
legislature, or a blinded people may think, the national account
with heaven must some day or other be settled: all countries have
sooner or later been called to their reckoning; the proudest empires
have sunk when the balance was struck; and Britain, like an individual
penitent, must undergo her day of sorrow, and the sooner it happens to
her the better. As I wish it over, I wish it to come, but withal
wish that it may be as light as possible.
Perhaps your lordship has no taste for serious things; by your
connections in England I should suppose not; therefore I shall drop
this part of the subject, and take it up in a line in which you will
better understand me.
By what means, may I ask, do you expect to conquer America? If you
could not effect it in the summer, when our army was less than
yours, nor in the winter, when we had none, how are you to do it? In
point of generalship you have been outwitted, and in point of
fortitude outdone; your advantages turn out to your loss, and show
us that it is in our power to ruin you by gifts: like a game of
drafts, we can move out of one square to let you come in, in order
that we may afterwards take two or three for one; and as we can always
keep a double corner for ourselves, we can always prevent a total
defeat.
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