Mr. Rgby.⸺I should not, Sir, have troubled the house on this first day, but that I felt it the indispensable duty of private friendship, to express my feelings on the happy return of our worthy Commissioner, who has given you, Sir, so full and satisfactory an account both of his principles and conduct.⸺I shall not trouble you long, Sir; I rise only for that purpose.⸺I am sure there is no Gentleman in this house, who more heartily congratulates the worthy Commissioner on his unembarrassed countenance and his good looks. He certainly has passed the summer very profitably—the voyage seems to have improved his stock of spirits—I think, I never saw him appear to more advantage—I own, however, I sincerely regret the unpoliteness of his American friends. After such condescending invitations of himself, it was not very civil of those Gentlemen to send excuses—If he had been admitted to their society, I have no manner of doubt of the wonderful effects his eloquence would have wrought. Even if they had allowed him a sight of the country, a man of his taste would have brought us home some curious American memoirs: but, alas! he was not only disappointed in that wish, but in one of a still gentler kind. I mean, Sir, a Flirtation Treaty, which he attempted, to negotiate with a celebrated female politician, the Messalina of Congress. I say attempted, Sir; for unfortunately even there too his Excellency met with as cold a reception. Unfortunately! for, had the Lady indulged him with a hearing, or even a sight, what surer line to lay the foundation of a more lasting connection? But, in short, Sir, whether from fate or insufficiency, the affair dropt, and the Flirtation Treaty fell to the ground⸺ ⸺Sir, I trouble the house very seldom, and with as few words as possible⸺my opinion continues to be what it invariably has been, with respect to America—this country may be deprived of its interests, its dignity, and its honour; but, as I never can give my assent to a voluntary surrender of them, I most heartily agree in the support which the address proposes to afford to his M[ajest]y.
Mr. T. T[o]wns[e]nd.
Mr. T. T[o]wns[e]nd rose, and with great vehemence arraigned the levity of the Right Honourable Gentleman who spoke before him; he thought it highly indecent, at this important crisis, when the very existence of this country is at stake, that any Gentleman should endeavour to raise a laugh, and turn the momentous deliberations of that day into ridicule. Under such circumstances, in his opinion, jocularity was flagitious, and wit became blasphemy. He had, himself, sat in three P[a]rl[ia]m[e]nts, and he appealed to the candour of that house, whether in that length of time he had once raised a laugh, or on any occasion intentionally distorted the muscles of any Honourable Member? “No Sir, the true design of our meeting here, is for far other purposes than those of calling forth the risibility of Honourable Gentlemen: a risibility at any time highly improper for this house, but particularly so at this tremendous, this disgraceful moment.—It is with the highest astonishment that I now see Gentlemen shifting their places, as if already tired of public business, or afraid to look into the deplorable and calamitous situation of this country: nay, so great is their inattention to their duty in P[a]rl[ia]m[e]nt, that, upon my rising, I find the house almost cleared—where are the Members?—I am afraid—at dinner! Is this a time for revelling in taverns, when the dignity of the Imperial Crown of this country is violated, and much harm done to our merchants?—Is this a time for revelling, when the glory of Britannia, Sir, I say, is sullied, and when, Sir, the French are riding on your narrow seas.”⸺He then entered into a copious detail of the blunders of Administration, with respect to Falkland’s Islands, the Middlesex Election, Corsica, and the massacre in St. George’s Fields, Gibraltar, and Mr. Horne’s imprisonment; together with cursory observations on the illegality of impressing, the bad policy of Lotteries, the fatal example of the Justitia, and the tremendous perils to this devoted country from the frequent exhibition of the Beggar’s Opera.⸺At length, returning a little closer to the question, he again animadverted on the surprising inattention of the House: “Yet Sir, (he exclaimed) before I sit down let me ask Ministers a few questions—I do not expect any answer from them, yet I will ask them⸺Is Dominica the only one of our West India Islands now in the possession of France? Are we to go on for ever with the American war?—Who are our allies?—Is Omiah to pay us another visit?—Where is Sir Harry Clnt[o]n?⸺How is the Czarina affected?—What will D’Estaign do after Christmas?⸺Where will the Brest fleet be next summer?⸺If Ministers will not, and I know they dare not, answer these questions, then Sir, how, in God’s name, can they refuse the papers called for by the noble Lord’s Amendment? From those papers, I pledge myself to the house, the whole of these nefarious proceedings will be brought to light—discouraged, as I well might be, from again pledging my person, (having been the constant and unredeemed pledge of this House, for one thing or another, for these one and twenty years last past,) I repeat it, Sir, I will pledge the reversion of myself, that these papers will furnish us with all necessary and constitutional information.—And, for these reasons, Sir, the Amendment meets with my most hearty concurrence.”
Mr. V[y]n[e]r.
Mr. V[y]n[e]r professed himself to be one of the independant Country Gentlemen, and took occasion to inform the house, that five Indiamen arrived in the River Thames about six weeks ago.—He said he embraced this earliest opportunity to repeat his offer of fifteen shillings in the pound, if Ministers would but seriously go on with the war, which, for his part, he now considered in a new point of view—for, as a great statesman had once boasted to have conquered, in his time, America in Germany, so he would hope and believe, that we, in our days, might conquer France in America.—And here, from regretting the loss of that great statesman, he fell into a train of melancholy thoughts, which led him insensibly to a pathetic eulogy on the memory of his dear departed friend, the well-known Mr. Van.—“A long course of congenial studies (he exclaimed, with torrents of tears and frequent sobs) had entwined our hearts in political sympathy—we had but one idea between us!—Yes, Sir, I repeat it, but one—Well therefore may I say with the Poet,
In infancy our hopes and fears
Were to each other known,
And friendship in our riper years,
Had twined our hearts in one.”
Here he broke off, oppressed with a flood of tears, while a confused noise of encore and order resounded from several parts of the house. At length, when the uproar began to subside, and Gentlemen became collected enough to proceed on business,