We have left ourselves comparatively little space to say much, in addition to what we said in October, upon this great question. It may in the end, however, be mainly resolved into this—Would it be better to have intelligent colonists representing and making known their own interests in Great Britain, than to have incompetent governors sent out to the colonies, to keep them in constant broils among themselves, and in constant collision with the colonial office in England? We are but too well assured that it would be better. And in forming these great colonies into an empire, which Great Britain must do if she does them justice, and which indeed will be done with or without Britain,—the race that inhabits them must, in the very nature of things, be and become what they ought to be. But if Great Britain will but undertake to do so, can any man say that no questions could arise in that empire’s growth and maturity, upon which her wisdom, experience, and mind might not exert a salutary influence? Or can any person, willing to take a broad view of this great question and country, continue in the belief that it should be, or ought to be crippled, or have its growth longer stunted? Probably one of the most galling circumstances connected with colonial residence and birth, is the constantly seeing and feeling that colonial mind is underrated by England; for no other reason, it would seem, than because it is colonial; or, if there be another reason, it is the no less humiliating one, that England deems the mind of the colonies beneath her attention. Not less injurious, though less disagreeable, is the indifference constantly displayed by England towards the colonies, and the almost universal ignorance that prevails there as to their importance and worth. It was the same with the old colonies. The idea was ridiculed of “clod-hopping colonists” entering the House of Commons, and holding up their heads among the collected wisdom of Great Britain. The unpretending but profound wisdom of Franklin was sneered at and underrated by men as much higher than him in power as they were lower in understanding. The powerful and convincing eloquence of Patrick Henry fell dead upon the English nation; and what has since commanded the admiration of the world for its originality and boldness, was then regarded with cold contempt. Speaking of what should be the treatment of American mind by England, Adam Smith used the following language; and its complete applicability to the present state of things, shows that great truths lose nothing by long keeping. He said—