counsels were divided. Lord North wished for peace; Weymouth expected that war must sooner or later result, and wrote meaningless despatches capable of either a peaceful or a warlike interpretation, in order to be able to keep his place, whether North or Chatham carried the day. Rochfort, by his outspoken zeal against France, almost restored the tottering credit of the war party in that country. "Milord Weymouth ne parle point," said Choiseul, "et Milord Rochfort parle trop. Le Ministère ne veut pas faire la guerre, et ne sait pas faire la paix."[1] Shelburne accordingly had an easy task in denouncing the ministerial hesitations and the defenceless condition in which the country, without a fleet worthy of the name and bereft of every alliance, was situated.[2] "My Lords," he said, "it is extremely evident whether we commence a war with Spain, or tamely crouch under the insults of that haughty kingdom, whether we spiritedly draw the sword, or purchase an inglorious security by the sacrifice of our national honour, that we shall neither be united at home nor respected abroad till the reins of government are lodged with men who have some little pretensions to common sense and common honesty. Had our Ministers, my Lords, even the wish to act with wisdom, they have not the ability. The mere possession of their places does not give them a capacity to understand or a resolution to execute. They have received no instruction in the real schools of business, and ignorant of everything but their own interests, they look down from their accidental elevation, confused, astonished, terrified. Ashamed to descend and yet afraid to act on the lofty pinnacle of power, the welfare, the reputation of the kingdom is hourly given up; nothing is attended to but the preservation of their official emoluments, and so these emoluments can be preserved, they are deaf to the execrations of their indignant countrymen. For these reasons, my Lords, necessary as a war with Spain may be, who could wish to leave the
