Chapter 7

LORD PATRIOT, BOLD IRISHMAN, COLONEL.

BOLD IRISHMAN.

That Brazen Lawyer,[7] that Lord Chancellor, that wou'd be, held forth surprisingly last night, he beat the drum in your ears, brother soldier.

COLONEL. I think he did; he beat a Tatoo for us all.

LORD PATRIOT. No politicians, but lawyer politicians, it seems will go down; if we believe him, we must all turn lawyers now, and prate away the liberties of the nation.

COLONEL. Aye, first we must learn to rail at the clamourous faction, disappointed politicians--ever restless--ever plotting--constantly thwarting government, in laudable and blameable purposes.--Inconsiderable party--inconsistent in their own politics--hostile to all government, soured by disappointment, and urged by want--proceeding to unjustifiable lengths--and then sound the magnanimity of a British senate, animated by the sacred fire caught from a high-spirited people--

BOLD IRISHMAN. And the devil knows what beside--Magnanimity and sacred fire, indeed!--Very magnanimous sounds, but pompous nothings! Why did he not tell us where was the magnanimity of the British senate at the time of the dispute about Falkland's Island? What sort of fire animated them then?--Where was the high spirit of the people?--Strange sort of fire, and strange sort of spirit, to give up to our inveterate enemies, the Spaniards, our property unasked for, and cut our best friends and brethren, the Americans' throats, for defending theirs against lawless tyranny; their sacred fire became then all fume, and the strength of their boasted spirits evaporated into invisible effluvium; the giant then sunk sure enough spontaneously into a dwarf; and now, it seems, the dwarf having been feeding upon smoky fire and evaporated spirits, is endeavouring to swell himself into a giant again, like the frog in the fable, till he bursts himself in silent thunder--But let the mighty Philistine, the Goliath Paramount, and his oracle Mocklaw, with their thunder bellowed from the brazen mortar-piece of a turn-coat lawyer, have a care of the little American David!

LORD PATRIOT. Aye, indeed! America will prove a second Sampson to 'em; they may put out his eyes for a while, but he'll pull their house down about their ears for all that. Mr. Brazen seem'd surpris'd at the thought of relinquishing America, and bawl'd out with the vociferation of an old miser that had been robb'd--Relinquish America! relinquish America! forbid it heavens! But let him and his masters take great care, or America will save 'em the trouble, and relinquish Britain.

COLONEL. Or I'm much mistaken, Brazen says, establish first your superiority, and then talk of negotiating.

LORD PATRIOT. That doctrine suits 'em best; just like a cowardly pickpocket, or a bloody highwayman, knock a man down first, and then tell him stand and deliver.

COLONEL. A just comparison, and excellent simile, by my soul! But I'm surpris'd he did not include the Clergy among the number of professions unfit (as he said) to be politicians.

BOLD IRISHMAN. Did you ever know a lawyer to be concerned with religion, unless he got a fee by it? he'll take care and steer clear of that; if it don't come in his way, he'll never break his neck over a church bible, I warrant you--Mammon is his god--Judge Jeffereys is his priest--Star-chamber doctrine is his creed--fire, flames and faggot, blood, murder, halters and thund'ring cannon are the ceremonies of his church--and lies, misrepresentations, deceit, hypocrisy and dissimulation are the articles of his religion.

LORD PATRIOT. You make him a monster, indeed.

BOLD IRISHMAN. Not half so bad as he is, my Lord; he's following close to the heels of that profound sage, that oracle, Mocklaw, his tutor: I can compare the whole herd of them to nothing else but to the swine we read of running headlong down the hill, Paramount their devil, Mocklaw the evil spirit, and Brazen their driver.

COLONEL. And thus they'll drive liberty from out the land; but when a brave people, like the Americans, from their infancy us'd to liberty (not as a gift, but who inherit it as a birth-right, but not as a mess of pottage, to be bought by, or sold to, ev'ry hungry glutton of a minister) find attempts made to reduce them to slavery, they generally take some desperate successful measure for their deliverance. I should not be at all surpris'd to hear of independency proclaim'd throughout their land, of Britain's armies beat, their fleets burnt, sunk, or otherwise destroy'd. The same principle which Mr. Brazen speaks of, that inspires British soldiers to fight, namely the ferment of youthful blood, the high spirit of the people, a love of glory, and a sense of national honour, will inspire the Americans to withstand them; to which I may add, liberty and property.--But what is national honour? Why, national pride.--What is national glory? Why, national nonsense, when put in competition with liberty and property.

LORD PATRIOT. Of Britain I fear liberty has taken its farewell, the aspiring wings of tyranny hath long hovered over, and the over-shadowing influence of bribery hath eclips'd its rays and dark'ned its lustre; the huge Paramount, that temporal deity, that golden calf, finds servile wretches enough so base as to bow down, worship and adore his gilded horns;--let 'em e'en if they will:--But as for me, tho' I should stand alone, I would spurn the brute, were he forty-five[8] times greater than he is; I'll administer, ere long, such an emetic to him, as shall make the monster disgorge the forty millions yet unaccounted for, and never shall it be said, that Patriot ever feared or truckled to him, or kept a silent tongue when it should speak.

BOLD IRISHMAN. There I'll shake hands with you, and my tongue shall echo in their ears, make their arched ceiling speak, the treasury bench crack, and the great chair of their great speaker tremble, and never will I cease lashing them, while lashing is good, or hope remains; and when the voice of poor liberty can no longer be heard in Britain or Hibernia, let's give Caledonia a kick with our heels, and away with the goddess to the American shore, crown her, and defy the grim king of tyranny, at his peril, to set his foot there.--Here let him stay, and wallow in sackcloth and ashes, like a beast as he is, and, Nebuchadnezzar-like, eat grass and thistles.

[_Exeunt._

_See Paramount, upon his awful throne, Striving to make each freeman's purse his own! While Lords and Commons most as one agree, To grace his head with crown of tyranny. They spurn the laws,--force constitution locks, To seize each subject's coffer, chest and box; Send justice packing, as tho' too pure unmix'd, And hug the tyrant, as if by law he's fix'd._

FOOTNOTES:

[7] See Wedderburne's Speech.

[8] Alluding to North-Briton, Number forty-five.