the writer of the Crisis, that it is impossible for the King of
England to promise the repeal, or even the revisal of any acts of
parliament; wherefore, on your part, you had nothing to say, more
than to request, in the room of demanding, the entire surrender of
the continent; and then, if that was complied with, to promise that
the inhabitants should escape with their lives. This was the upshot
of the conference. You informed the conferees that you were two
months in soliciting these powers. We ask, what powers? for as
commissioner you have none. If you mean the power of pardoning, it is
an oblique proof that your master was determined to sacrifice all
before him; and that you were two months in dissuading him from his
purpose. Another evidence of his savage obstinacy! From your own
account of the matter we may justly draw these two conclusions: 1st,
That you serve a monster; and 2d, That never was a messenger sent on
a more foolish errand than yourself. This plain language may perhaps
sound uncouthly to an ear vitiated by courtly refinements, but words
were made for use, and the fault lies in deserving them, or the abuse
in applying them unfairly.

Soon after your return to New York, you published a very illiberal
and unmanly handbill against the Congress; for it was certainly
stepping out of the line of common civility, first to screen your
national pride by soliciting an interview with them as private
gentlemen, and in the conclusion to endeavor to deceive the multitude
by making a handbill attack on the whole body of the Congress; you
got them together under one name, and abused them under another. But
the king you serve, and the cause you support, afford you so few
instances of acting the gentleman, that out of pity to your situation
the Congress pardoned the insult by taking no notice of it.