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THE CRISIS. NUMBER VI.
To the Right Honorable LORD NORTH, First Lord of the Treasury, Chancellor of the Ex­chequer, and Ranger of Bushy Park, &c. &c.

‘Is there not some hidden curse in the stores of Heaven, red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man who owes his greatness to his country's ruin.’
My LORD,

WE know not which is most to be detested, your Lordship's pusillanimity, or your villany, such a miscreant never before disgraced the administration of any country, nor the confidence of any King; one day you are all fire and sword, Boston is to be laid in ashes, and the rivers of America are to run with the blood of her inhabitants; ships are prepared, troops embarked, and officers appointed for the threatened carnage; you no sooner find the brave Americans are deter­mined to resist your instruments of slaughter, and to oppose the cruel designs of a despotic tyrant, to rob them of their rights, than all the bravadoing and all the blustering of your Lordship, is imme­diately softened into a calm, and you relax; fear [Page 42]seizes your dastardly soul, and you sink beneath the weight of accumulated guilt.

One day we hear of nothing but accusations, proscriptions, impeachments, and bills of attainder against the patriots in America, and they are speedily to be apprehended, and to receive a punishment due to their crimes, due to rebels; three days do not clapse before this just and noble resolution of your Lordship to bring those traitors to a trial is dropped, and lenient or no steps are to be taken against them. Another day all the colonies are in a state of rebel­lion, and the last advices received from America, you tell the House of Commons, were of a very alarming nature, and such a daring spirit of resis­tance had manifested itself throughout the conti­nent, that it was now high time Parliament should adopt measures for enforcing obedience to the late acts, a plan is no sooner proposed by you, but car­ried by a rotten majority, for reducing them to a state of subjection to your, and your royal master's will; and bloodshed and slaughter stare them in the face; they laugh at your impotent malice, and with a spirited firmness, becoming of freemen, dare you to the stroke; when behold, your threats, and the resolutions of your venal troop (I will not call it a British senate) become like the threats and re­solutions of a society of coal-porters, who declare vengeance against another body of men, who will not comply with their unlawful impositions, but fear the next day, without even the shadow of justice on their side, to carry their desperate design into execution. The motion you made, my Lord, in the House of Commons, on Monday last, for a sus­pension of the several American acts, till it is known which of the provinces will raise a revenue, and contribute to the luxuries of the parent state, sub­ject [Page 43]to the controul of the British Parliament, is a subterfuge too low, and too thinly disguised to de­ceive the Americans, or to impose upon the under­standing of the meanest capacity; it is evident to the world this is only a villanous plan to divide them, who, while united together, may bid defi­ance to all your Lordship's cunning, fraud, force, and villany. The Americans, my Lord, are too sensible, and too brave to be drawn into any trap, either of your, or your royal master's making; you may weave the web as artfully as you please for their destruction, and they will be sure to break it; their cause is just, 'tis the cause of heaven, and built upon the solid foundation of truth and li­berty; they will carefully watch over the sacred gifts of God, and never surrender them to you, nor any power upon earth, but with their lives. You have found, my Lord, that your hostile inva­sion, and all your force and violence would not terrify them into a compliance with your measures, nor answer the infamous design of making the King absolute in America; and now you are determined to try, whether by fraud and artifice you can ef­fect your purpose.

You have, my Lord, by the most cruel oppres­sions drove the Americans to a state of desperation, you have destroyed their charters, invaded their rights, imposed taxes contrary to every principle of justice, and to every idea of representation, and by blockading the port of Boston, reduced near thirty thousand people, in easy circumstances, to a state of dependence upon the charity and benevolence of their fellow subjects; and now, rare condescension, suspension, of the several American acts, or in other words ministerial oppression and villany is to be granted them, provided they will raise a revenue in [Page 44]America, still subject to the controul of the king and Parliament in England: This suspension scheme, my Lord, will not do, the Americans will have a repeal of all the acts they complain of, and a full restoration of all their charters, rights, li­berties, and privileges, before they grant you a single farthing, and then not subject to the con­troul of a banditti of rotten members in St. Ste­phen's chapel, of your appointing, for where would be the difference between their taxing themselves, subject to the controul, and at the disposal of the King and Parliament here, or of the House of Commons in England taxing them in the first in­stance, there would be none, my Lord, and they would still be in the same situation they are now; still subject to the will of the King, and the corrupt influence of the crown; this scheme, my Lord, ap­pears to me as ridiculous and absurd, as the nega­tive still vested in the court of Aldermen of the city of London, which gives a power to a majority of twenty-six to set aside the choice of seven thou­sand Liverymen, in the election of their Mayors. Be assured, my Lord, this new plan must fall to the ground, with all your former ones in this busi­ness; the day of trial is at hand, the Americans will be firm, they will have a confirmation of all their rights; they will have a redress of all their grievances; they will levy their own taxes, not sub­ject to any controuling power; and they will fix the constitutional liberties of America, upon a foundation not be again shaken by you, nor any pusillanimous, weak, wicked, or cruel tyrant.

It is unnatural; but for a moment, my Lord, suppose the Americans should come into your pro­posals, or agree with the terms of your motion; how, my Lord, can you make reparation for the [Page 45]injuries England and America have sustained, or will it in any degree lessen your villany, or atone for your crimes; what compensation can you make for the loss of our trade, to the amount of near three millions? What compensation can you make for robbing the nation of near one million and a half of money, to carry on your execrable designs against your fellow subjects in America? You can make none: Your head indeed would be a pleasing spectacle upon Temple-Bar, but the loss of that, and your estates, would never atone for a ten thousandth part of your crimes and villany, still it is to be hoped the minority in the House of Commons, and the people will never leave you, till they have both made you a public example, and brought you to condign punishment.

Every measure, my Lord, of your administration at home has been cruel, arbitrary, and unconsti­tutional; and every measure, with respect to foreign affairs, has been weak, cowardly, absurd and re­diculous; unbecoming an English minister, and only calculated to destroy the honor and intetest of this kingdom.

The glory and dignity of the British nation, was never so infamously sacrificed both by you and the King, as in the year 1770, by a scandalous secret convention with Spain, concerning Faulk­land's Islands.

With respect to domestic affairs, you have en­deavoured to erect the Sovereign into a despotic tyrant; you have made him trample under foot, all laws human and divine; you have made him destroy the rights and liberties of the people in every part of the British empire. You have made it appa­rently his interest to promote divisions at home; you have obliged him to quit the glorious title of [Page 46]father of his people, and debase himself into the head of a party, whom he has invested with an ab­solute dominion over him, and whilst he monarchs it in its own closet, becomes contemptible in the eyes of his subjects, and the whole world; weak, timid, and irresolute, he deeply engages in all your Lordship's infamous measures, and the rest of his ministers; and it is for this reason we see every act of ministerial villany and murder sanctified by royal authority.

A parody, for your Lordship's perusal, on the 3d scene of the 5th act of Richard the 3d.

Enter NORTH from his bed.

'Tis now the dead of night, and half the world is in a lonely, solemn darkness hung; yet I (so coy a dame is sleep to me) with all the weary courtship of my care tired thoughts, can't win her to my arms; tho' even the stars do wink, as 'twere with over-watching.—I'll to my bed, and once more try to sleep her into morning.

Lies down, a groan is heard.

Ha! What means that dismal voice? Sure 'tis the echo of some yawning grave, that teems with an untimely ghost. 'Tis gone! 'Twas but my fancy, which ever and anon, of late, conjures the people's murmurs to my ear. No matter what, I feel my eyes grow heavy.

[Sleeps.
Enter the ghost of Britannia.
Brit.

Oh! thou whose unrelenting thoughts not all the hideous terrors of thy guilt can shake, whose conscience, with thy body, ever sleeps.— Sleep on, while I, by heaven's high ordinance, in dreams of horror wake thy frightful soul; now give thy thoughts to me; let them behold those [Page 47]gaping wounds, which thy death-dealing hand, from time to time, gave my anointed body; now shall thy own devouring conscience gnaw thy heart, and terribly revenge my murder.

Enter the ghosts of those barbarously murdered at Brentford, Boston, and in St. George's Fields, in the merciful reign of the present King.
Ghosts.

North, dream on, and let the wand'ring spirits of thy butchered fellow subjects grate thine ear! Could not the cause wherein we were em­barked, the common, open birthright of a Bri­ton, persuade thy cruel heart to spare our lives? Oh! 'Twas a cruel deed! Therefore alone, unpi­tying, unpitied, shalt thou fall.

Enter the ghost of the late Lord Chancellor.
Lord Chancellor.

Could not the various wrongs thou did'st thy country's weal in Camden, Granby, Wilkes, and many more, glut thy relentless souls? But thou and Grafton must aim thy dagger at my life. Yes at my life, unfeeling man, for could'st thou think that after quitting every claim to honor, truth, or right, I'd longer bare my hated load of infamy, O no, the grave could only save me from myself! Wake then in all the hells of guilt, and let that wild despair, which now does pray upon thy strangled thoughts, be to the world a terrible example!

(Ghosts vanish.
North.

Spare me my life! I do repent—Your wrongs shall be redressed. Ah, soft—'Twas but a dream, but then so terrible, it shakes my soul. Cold drops of sweat hang on my trembling flesh; my blood grows chilly, and I freeze with horror: [Page 48]O, tyrant conscience, how dost thou afflict me! Fain would I reassume my walk, was it not ter­rible retreating! Who is there?

Enter MUNGO, alias Jeremiah Dyson.
Mungo.

'Tis I my Lord, the morn is far ad­vanced, and all your friends are up, preparing for the House.

North.

O, Mungo, I have had such horrid dreams!

Mungo.

Shadows! My Lord, below the states­man's heeding.

North.

Now by my every hope, shadows to­night have struck more terror to the soul of North, than could the whole of ten minorities, armed all in proof, and led by noisy Chatham.

Mungo.

Be more yourself, my Lord; consider, where it but known a dream had frightened you, how would your animated foes presume on it.

North.

Perish that thought! No, never be it said that fate itself could awe the soul of North.

Hence babling dreams, you threaten here in vain,
Conscience avaunt, North is himself again!
With this , and with my gracious sovereign's ear,
I'll act determined—free from ev'ry fear.
[To be continued.]

(Price TWO PENNIES.)

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