On the other hand, the Americans, who, if they had contented themselves with a struggle for lawful liberty, would have deserved applause, seem to me to have incurred the guilt of parricide, by renouncing their parent, by making her ruin their favourite object, and by associating themselves with her worst enemy for the accomplishment of their purpose.  France, and, of course, Spain, have acted a treacherous, a thievish part.  They have stolen America from England, and, whether they are able to possess themselves of that jewel or not hereafter, it was doubtless what they intended.  Holland appears to me in a meaner light than any of them.  They quarrelled with a friend for an enemy’s sake.  The French led them by the nose, and the English have thrashed them for suffering it.

My views of the contest being as they have always been, I have consequently brighter hopes for England than her situation some time since seemed to justify.  She is the only injured party.

America may perhaps call her the aggressor; but, if she were so, America has not only repelled the injury, but done a greater.  As to the rest, if perfidy, treachery, avarice, and ambition can prove their cause to have been a rotten one, those proofs are found on them.  I think, therefore, that, whatever scourge may be prepared for England on some future day, her ruin is not yet to be expected.

To the Same

Olney, November 17, 1783.  Swift observes, when he is giving his reasons why the preacher is elevated always above his hearers, that, let the crowd be as great as it will below, there is always room enough overhead.

If the French philosophers can carry their art of flying to the perfection they desire, the observation may be reversed, the crowd will be overhead, and they will have most room who stay below.  I can assure you, however, upon my own experience, that this way of travelling is very delightful.

I dreamt a night or two since that I drove myself through the upper regions in a balloon and pair, with the greatest ease and security.  Having finished the tour I intended, I made a short turn, and with one flourish of my whip, descended; my horses prancing and curvetting with an infinite share of spirit, but without the least danger either to me or my vehicle.  The time, we may suppose, is at hand, and seems to be prognosticated by my dream, when these airy excursions will be universal, when judges will fly the circuit and bishops their visitations, and when the tour of Europe will be performed with much greater speed and with equal advantage by all who travel merely for the sake of saying that they have made it.

To His Cousin, Lady Hesketh

Olney, November 9, 1785.  I am happy that my poems have pleased you.  My volume has afforded me no such pleasure at any time, either while I was writing it or since its publication, as I have derived from yours and my uncle’s opinion of it.  But, above all, I honour John Gilpin, since it was he who first encouraged you to write.  I made him on purpose to laugh at, and he served his purpose well.