vate account by the war, may perhaps change their sentiments, if they will reflect a little upon our present condition.
I had two reasons for not sooner publishing this discourse; the first was, because I would give way to others, who might argue very well upon the same subject from general topicks and reason, although they might be ignorant of several facts, which I had the opportunity to know. The second was, because I found it would be necessary, in the course of this argument, to say something of the state to which the war has reduced us; at the same time I knew, that such a discovery ought to be made as late as possible, and at another juncture would not only be very indiscreet, but might perhaps be dangerous.
It is the folly of too many to mistake the echo of a London coffeehouse, for the voice of the kingdom. The city coffeehouses have been for some years filled with people, whose fortunes depend upon the Bank, East-India, or some other stock. Every new fund to these, is like a new mortgage to a usurer, whose compassion for a young heir, is exactly the same with that of a stockjobber to the landed gentry. At the court end of the town, the like places of resort are frequented either by men out of place, and consequently enemies to the present ministry, or by officers of the army: no wonder then if the general cry, in all such meetings, be against any peace, either with Spain or without; which, in other words, is no more than this; that discontented men desire another change of ministry; that soldiers would be glad to keep their commissions; and that the creditors have money still, and
