and mildews ought never to visit our fields. They come upon us inevitably, and we have nothing to do, but to consider how we may act with most dignity and effect. Or is it said. We will have no navy, because we cannot have one large enough to subdue the British fleet? Will we then leave our ports and harbors defenceless, because we cannot make conquests in the British channel, or set London on fire with bomb shells? Shall we shrink from the defence of our house, because we are not strong enough to pull down the house of our neighbor? That sentiment be to him who hath shoulders broad enough to bear the disgrace of it. It is the offspring of false economy or inordinate avarice. It never sprang from the altar of "seventy-six."
The recent murder of John Peirce, by a British captain in the harbor of New York, is an event well calculated to try the spirit of the times. It is a thermometer by which may be determined the temperature both of the government and the people. In 1770, when the United States were colonies of the British king, before they had called themselves a nation or dreamed of independence, some British soldiers in Boston, provoked by menaces and pelted with brick bats, fired among our citizens, killed some and wounded others. The act roused America! The continent rose to arms! The cry of blood was abroad in the land, and from that moment we may date the severance of the British Empire. In 1806, when the fruits of independence are ripened by the lapse of thirty years, during which time national honor hath received neither spot nor blemish, a British captain, unprovoked, without cause, without pretext, without apology, in our own harbor, in the sight of our citizens, wantonly and inhumanly fires on an American vessel and murders one of her crew. The community is petrified with astonishment, as well as heated with indignation. There is but one voice on the occasion, and that exclaims with imperious emphasis, Punish the wretch who thus violates the laws of hospitality, defies your government, and sports with the lives of your citizens. This act, if it had been committed in the Seine or the Thames, without instant reparation, had been the cause of a national war. But in America things are understood better, it was only the cause of a proclamation. Illustrious remedy for wounded honor! That instrument so efficacious for national defence, ought to be written in telegraph, and displayed above the tops of our lighthouses, that it might be seen and read half-way across the Atlantic, and remain a perpetual safeguard to our shores.
Patriotism hath given place to the more laudable spirit of economy. Regard to national honor, that remnant of chivalry and offspring of the dark ages, is absorbed in a thirst for gain, and desire of saving, the liberal sentiments of enlightened times.
As a land power, Great Britain can never be formidable to this country. Her navy is her weapon, and in the use of that she will continue to harass us, until she finds us able and disposed to resist her. A naval force sufficient to protect our harbors and convoy the great branches of our trade, is the natural, necessary, and unavoidable measure of defence. To this the government, first or last, must resort, or they must submit to every species of maritime plunder, and shut their eyes and ears against insult and disgrace. That which ought to have been done originally from regard to character, must be done in the end from the pressure of necessity. National honor is the true gnomon to national interest.
When we turn from Great Britain to France, we are led to contemplate a nation of very different situation, power, and character. We seem to be carried back to the Roman age. The days of Cæsar are come again. Even a greater than Caesar is here. The throne of the Bourbons is filled by a new character of the most astonishing fortunes. A new Dynasty hath taken place in Europe.
