Shall Fictitious Reason Extinguish The Unerring Impulse Of
Instinct?
No; my former respect, my former attachment vanishes with
my safety; that respect and attachment was purchased by protection,
and it has ceased.
Could not the great nation we belong to have
accomplished her designs by means of her numerous armies, by means
of those fleets which cover the ocean? Must those who are masters of
two thirds of the trade of the world; who have in their hands the
power which almighty gold can give; who possess a species of wealth
that increases with their desires; must they establish their
conquest with our insignificant innocent blood!
Must I then bid farewell to Britain, to that renowned country? Must
I renounce a name so ancient and so venerable? Alas, she herself,
that once indulgent parent, forces me to take up arms against her.
She herself, first inspired the most unhappy citizens of our remote
districts, with the thoughts of shedding the blood of those whom
they used to call by the name of friends and brethren. That great
nation which now convulses the world; which hardly knows the extent
of her Indian kingdoms; which looks toward the universal monarchy of
trade, of industry, of riches, of power: why must she strew our poor
frontiers with the carcasses of her friends, with the wrecks of our
insignificant villages, in which there is no gold? When, oppressed
by painful recollection, I revolve all these scattered ideas in my
mind, when I contemplate my situation, and the thousand streams of
evil with which I am surrounded; when I descend into the particular
tendency even of the remedy I have proposed, I am convulsed -
convulsed sometimes to that degree, as to be tempted to exclaim - Why
has the master of the world permitted so much indiscriminate evil
throughout every part of this poor planet, at all times, and among
all kinds of people? It ought surely to be the punishment of the
wicked only. I bring that cup to my lips, of which I must soon
taste, and shudder at its bitterness. What then is life, I ask
myself, is it a gracious gift? No, it is too bitter; a gift means
something valuable conferred, but life appears to be a mere
accident, and of the worst kind: we are born to be victims of
diseases and passions, of mischances and death: better not to be
than to be miserable. - Thus impiously I roam, I fly from one erratic
thought to another, and my mind, irritated by these acrimonious
reflections, is ready sometimes to lead me to dangerous extremes of
violence. When I recollect that I am a father, and a husband, the
return of these endearing ideas strikes deep into my heart. Alas!
they once made it to glow with pleasure and with every ravishing
exultation; but now they fill it with sorrow. At other times, my
wife industriously rouses me out of these dreadful meditations, and
soothes me by all the reasoning she is mistress of; but her
endeavours only serve to make me more miserable, by reflecting that
she must share with all these calamities, the bare apprehensions of
which I am afraid will subvert her reason.
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