imagination, of a Locke upon my understanding, of a Sidney upon my
political principles, of a Chatham upon qualities which, would to God I
possessed in common with that illustrious man! of a Tillotson, a
Sherlock, and a Porteus upon my religion. This is a British influence
which I can never shake off. I allow much to the just and honest
prejudices growing out of the Revolution. But by whom have they been
suppressed, when they ran counter to the interests of my country? By
Washington. By whom, would you listen to them, are they most keenly
felt? By felons escaped from the jails of Paris, Newgate, and
Kilmainham, since the breaking out of the French Revolution; who, in
this abused and insulted country, have set up for political teachers,
and whose disciples give no other proof of their progress in
republicanism, except a blind devotion to the most ruthless military
despotism that the world ever saw. These are the patriots, who scruple
not to brand with the epithet of Tory, the men (looking toward the seat
of Col. Stewart) by whose blood your liberties have been cemented. These
are they, who hold in such keen remembrance the outrages of the British
armies, from which many of them are deserters. Ask these self-styled
patriots where they were during the American war (for they are, for the
most part, old enough to have borne arms), and you strike them dumb;
their lips are closed in eternal silence. If it were allowable to
entertain partialities, every consideration of blood, language,
religion, and interest, would incline us toward England: and yet, shall
they alone be extended to France and her ruler, whom we are bound to
believe a chastening God suffers as the scourge of a guilty world! On
all other nations he tramples; he holds them in contempt; England alone
he hates; he would, but he cannot, despise her; fear cannot despise; and
shall we disparage our ancestors?

But the outrages and injuries of England--bred up in the principles of