In February, 1778, Lord North announced the resolution of government to yield every point in question to the Americans, except their nominal independence of the crown. To this, little opposition was offered in either house; it probably was the line of conduct which Lord Chatham at this late hour would have advised. But the Americans had declared their independence, and were not now to be satisfied with anything short of a formal acknowledgment of it; and here the two great sections of opposition, the Rockingham and Shelburne parties, were divided. The latter, with Lord Chatham at their head, regarded such an acknowledgment as the prelude to the total ruin and degradation of the country. The former held that it was impossible to avoid it at last, and earnestly desired, since the colonists could not be retained as subjects, to secure their alliance to this country, and not to drive them into the arms of France. The Duke of Richmond moved an address embodying these views, April 7th, a day memorable for the most affecting scene ever witnessed within the walls of Parliament. We relate it as nearly as possible from the account communicated to Mr. Seward by an eyewitness, and published in his Anecdotes of distinguished Persons. “Lord Chatham came into the House of Lords leaning on two friends, wrapped up in flannel, pale and emaciated. Within his large wig little more was to be seen than his aquiline nose, and his penetrating eye. He looked like a dying man; yet never was seen a figure of more dignity; he appeared like a being of superior species. “He rose from his seat with slowness and difficulty, leaning upon his crutches, and supported under each arm by his two friends. He took one hand from his crutch, and raised it, casting his eyes towards Heaven, and said, ‘I thank God that I have been enabled to come here this day, to perform my duty, and to speak on a subject which has so deeply impressed my mind. I am old and infirm—have one foot—more than one foot, in the grave. I am risen from my bed, to stand up in the cause of my country!—perhaps never again to speak in this House.’