There is nothing, sir, more frequently the subject of raillery or declamation, than the uselessness or danger of a standing army, to which I declare myself no otherwise inclined than by my concern for the common safety; I willingly allow that not one soldier ought to be supported by the publick, whose service is not necessary; but surely none of those who declare so warmly for the honour and privileges of their country, would expose it to the insults of foreign powers, without defence.  If, therefore, they think the danger of land forces more than equivalent to the benefit, they ought unanimously to concur in the increase of our naval strength, by which they may be protected, but cannot be oppressed:  they ought willingly to give their assistance to any propositions for making the fleet, formidable, that their declarations against the army may not be thought to proceed from a resolution to obstruct the measures of the government, rather than from zeal for the constitution.  For he that equally opposes the establishment of the army, and the improvement of the navy, declares in effect against the security of the nation; and though, perhaps, without design, exposes his countrymen to the mercy of their enemies.

Mr. PULTENEY spoke next:—­Sir, I cannot discover for what reason the bill before us is so vigorously supported, but must observe, that I have seldom known such vehement and continued efforts produced by mere publick spirit, and unmingled regard for the happiness of the nation.  Nothing, sir, that can be urged in favour of the measures now proposed has been omitted.  When arguments are confuted, precedents are cited; when precedents fail, the advocates for the bill have recourse to terrour and necessity, and endeavour to frighten those whom they cannot convince.

But, perhaps, sir, these formidable phantoms may soon be put to flight, and, like the other illusions of cowardice, disappear before the light.  Perhaps this necessity will be found only chimerical; and these dangers appear only the visions of credulity, or the bugbears of imposture.

To arrive at a clear view of our present condition, it will be necessary, sir, not to amuse ourselves with general assertions, or overwhelm our reason by terrifying exaggerations:  let us consider distinctly the power and the conduct of our enemies, and inquire whether they do not affright us more than they are able to hurt us.

That the force of Spain alone, sir, is much to be dreaded, no man will assert; for that empire, it is well known, has long been seized with all the symptoms of declining power, and has been supported, not by its own strength, but by the interests of its neighbours.  The vast dominions of the Spaniards are only an empty show; they are lands without inhabitants, and, by consequence, without defence; they are rather excrescences, than members of the monarchy, and receive support rather than communicate.  In the distant branches of their empire the government languishes, as the vital motion in an expiring body; and the struggles which they now make, may be termed rather agonies than efforts.