SPEECH ON AMERICAN TAXATION.

I AGREE with the honourable gentleman^a who ſpoke laſt, that this ſubject is not new in this houſe. Very diſagreeably to this houſe, very un⯑fortunately to this nation, and to the peace and proſperity of this whole empire, no topic has been more familiar to us. For nine long years, ſeſſion after ſeſſion, we have been laſhed round and round this miſerable circle of occaſional arguments and temporary expedients. I am ſure our heads muſt turn, and our ſtomachs nauſeate with them. We have had them in every ſhape; we have looked at them in every point of view. Invention is ex⯑hauſted; reaſon is fatigued; experience has given judgment; but obſtinacy is not yet conquered.

THE hon. gentleman has made one endeavour more to diverſity the form of this diſguſting argu⯑ment. He has thrown out a ſpeech compoſed al⯑moſt entirely of challenges. Challenges are ſerious things; and as he is a man of prudence as well as reſolution, I dare ſay he has very well weighed thoſe challenges before he delivered them. I had long the happineſs to ſit at the ſame ſide of the houſe, and to agree with the hon. gentleman on all the American queſtions. My ſentiments, I am ſure, are well known to him; and I thought I had been perfectly acquainted with his. Though I find my⯑ſelf miſtaken, he will ſtill permit me to uſe the privi⯑lege of an old friendſhip; he will permit me to apply myſelf to the houſe under the ſanction of his autho⯑rity; and, on the various grounds he has meaſured out, to ſubmit to you the poor opinions which I have formed, upon a matter of importance enough to demand the fulleſt conſideration I could beſtow upon it.

[267]He has ſtated to the houſe two grounds of delibe⯑ration; one narrow and ſimple, and merely confin⯑ed to the queſtion on your paper: the other more large and more complicated; comprehending the whole ſeries of the parliamentary proceedings with regard to America, their cauſes, and their conſe⯑quences. With regard to the latter ground, he ſtates it as uſeleſs, and thinks it may be even dan⯑gerous, to enter into ſo extenſive a field of enqui⯑ry. Yet, to my ſurprize, he had hardly laid down this reſtrictive propoſition, to which his authority would have given ſo much weight, when directly, and with the ſame authority, he condemns it; and declares it abſolutely neceſſary to enter into the moſt ample hiſtorical detail. His zeal has thrown him a little out of his uſual accuracy. In this per⯑plexity what ſhall we do, ſir, who are willing to ſubmit to the law he gives us? He has reprobated in one part of his ſpeech the rule he had laid down for debate in the other; and, after narrowing the ground for all thoſe who are to ſpeak after him, he takes an excurſion himſelf, as unbounded as the ſubject and the extent of his great abilities.

SIR, when I cannot obey all his laws, I will do the beſt I can. I will endeavour to obey ſuch of them as have the ſanction of his example; and to ſtick to that rule, which, though not conſiſtent with the other, is the moſt rational. He was certainly in the right when he took the matter largely. I cannot prevail on myſelf to agree with him in his cenſure of his own conduct. It is not, he will give me leave to ſay, either uſeleſs or dangerous. He aſſerts, that retroſpect is not wiſe: and the proper, the only proper, ſubject of enquiry is, ‘"not how we got into this difficulty, but how we are to get out of it."’ In other words, we are, according to him, to conſult our invention, and to reject our [268] experience. The mode of deliberation he recom⯑mends is diametrically oppoſite to every rule of reaſon, and every principle of good ſenſe eſtabliſh⯑ed amongſt mankind. For, that ſenſe and that reaſon, I have always underſtood, abſolutely to preſcribe, whenever we are involved in difficulties from the meaſures we have purſued, that we ſhould take a ſtrict review of thoſe meaſures, in order to correct our errors if they ſhould be corrigible; or at leaſt to avoid a dull uniformity in miſchief, and the unpitied calamity of being repeatedly caught in the ſame ſnare.

SIR, I will freely follow the hon. gentleman in his hiſtorical diſcuſſion, without the leaſt manage⯑ment for men or meaſures, further than as they ſhall ſeem to me to deſerve it. But before I go into that large conſideration, becauſe I would omit nothing that can give the houſe ſatisfaction, I wiſh to tread the narrow ground to which alone the hon. gentleman, in one part of his ſpeech, has ſo ſtrictly confined us.

HE deſires to know, whether, if we were to re⯑peal this tax, agreeably to the propoſition of the hon. gentleman who made the motion, the Ameri⯑cans would not take poſt on this conceſſion, in order to make a new attack on the next body of taxes; and whether they would not call for a re⯑peal of the duty on wine as loudly as they do now for the repeal of the duty on tea? Sir, I can give no ſecurity on this ſubject. But I will do all that I can, and all that can be fairly demanded. To the experience which the hon. gentleman reprobates in one inſtant, and reverts to in the next; to that ex⯑perience, without the leaſt wavering or heſitation on my part, I ſteadily appeal; and would to God there was no other arbiter to decide on the vote with which the houſe is to conclude this day!

[269]WHEN parliament repealed the ſtamp act in the year 1766, I affirm, firſt, that the Americans did not in conſequence of this meaſure call upon you to give up the former parliamentary revenue which ſubſiſted in that country; or even any one of the articles which compoſe it. I affirm alſo, that when, departing from the maxims of that repeal, you re⯑vived the ſcheme of taxation, and thereby filled the minds of the coloniſts with new jealouſy, and all ſorts of apprehenſions, then it was that they quar⯑relled with the old taxes, as well as the new; then it was, and not till then, that they queſtioned all the parts of your legiſlative power; and by the battery of ſuch queſtions have ſhaken the ſolid ſtructure of this Empire to its deepeſt foundations.

ON thoſe two propoſitions I ſhall, before I have done, give ſuch convincing, ſuch damning proof, that, however the contrary may be whiſpered in circles, or bawled in news-papers, they never more will dare to raiſe their voices in this houſe. I ſpeak with great confidence. I have reaſon for it. The miniſters are with me. They at leaſt are convinced that the repeal of the ſtamp act had not, and that no repeal can have, the conſequences which the hon. gentleman who defends their meaſures is ſo much alarmed at. To their conduct, I refer him for a concluſive anſwer to his objection. I carry my proof irreſiſtibly into the very body of both mi⯑niſtry and parliament; not on any general reaſon⯑ing growing out of collateral matter, but on the conduct of the hon. gentleman's miniſterial friends on the new revenue itſelf.

THE act of 1767, which grants this tea duty, ſets forth in its preamble, that it was expedient to raiſe a revenue in America, for the ſupport of the civil government there, as well as for purpoſes ſtill more extenſive. To this ſupport the act aſſigns [270] ſix branches of duties. About two years after this act paſſed, the miniſtry, I mean the preſent mi⯑niſtry, thought it expedient to repeal five of the duties, and to leave (for reaſons beſt known to themſelves) only the ſixth ſtanding. Suppoſe any perſon, at the time of that repeal, had thus ad⯑dreſſed the miniſter^b: ‘"Condemning, as you do, the repeal of the ſtamp act, why do you venture to repeal the duties upon glaſs, paper, and painters colours? Let your pretence for the repeal be what it will, are not you thoroughly convinced, that your conceſſions will produce, not ſatisfaction, but inſolence in the Americans; and that the giving up theſe taxes will neceſſitate the giving up of all the reſt?"’ This objection was as palpable then as it is now; and it was as good for preſerving the five duties as for retaining the ſixth. Beſides, the miniſter will recollect, that the repeal of the ſtamp act had but juſt preceded his repeal; and the ill policy of that meaſure (had it been ſo impolitic as it has been repreſented), and the miſchiefs it produced, were quite recent. Upon the principles therefore of the hon. gentleman, upon the principles of the miniſter himſelf, the miniſter has nothing at all to anſwer. He ſtands condemned by himſelf, and by all his aſſociates old and new, as a deſtroyer, in the firſt truſt of finance, of the revenues; and in the firſt rank of honour, as a betrayer of the dignity of his country.

MOST men, eſpecially great men, do not always know their well-wiſhers. I come to reſcue that no⯑ble lord out of the hands of thoſe he calls his friends; and even out of his own. I will do him the juſtice, he is denied at home. He has not been this wicked or imprudent man. He knew that a repeal had no tendency to produce the miſchiefs [271] which give ſo much alarm to his honourable friend. His work was not bad in its principle, but imper⯑fect in its execution; and the motion on your paper preſſes him only to compleat a proper plan, which, by ſome unfortunate and unaccountable error, he had left unfiniſhed.

I HOPE, ſir, the hon. gentleman who ſpoke laſt is thoroughly ſatisfied, and ſatisfied out of the pro⯑ceedings of miniſtry on their own favourite act, that his fears from a repeal are groundleſs. If he is not, I leave him, and the noble lord who ſits by him, to ſettle the matter, as well as they can, together; for if the repeal of American taxes deſtroys all our go⯑vernment in America—He is the man!—and he is the worſt of all the repealers, becauſe he is the laſt.

BUT I hear it rung continually in my ears, now and formerly,— ‘"The preamble! what will become of the preamble, if you repeal this tax?"’ —I am ſorry to be compelled ſo often to expoſe the cala⯑mities and diſgraces of parliament. The preamble of this law, ſtanding as it now ſtands, has the lie direct given to it by the proviſionary part of the act; if that can be called proviſionary which makes no proviſion. I ſhould be afraid to expreſs my⯑ſelf in this manner, eſpecially in the face of ſuch a formidable array of ability as is now drawn up be⯑fore me, compoſed of the antient houſehold troops of that ſide of the houſe, and the new recruits from this, if the matter were not clear and indiſputable. Nothing but truth could give me this firmneſs; but plain truth and clear evidence can be beat down by no ability. The clerk will be ſo good as to turn to the act, and to read this favourite preamble:

‘WHEREAS it is expedient that a revenue ſhould be raiſed in your Majeſty's dominions in America, for [272] making a more certain and adequate proviſion for de⯑fraying the charge of the adminiſtration of juſtice, and ſupport of civil government, in ſuch provinces where it ſhall be found neceſſary; and towards further defray⯑ing the expences of defending, protecting, and ſe⯑curing the ſaid dominions.’

YOU have heard this pompous performance. Now where is the revenue which is to do all theſe mighty things? Five-ſixths repealed—abandoned—ſunk—gone—loſt for ever. Does the poor ſolitary tea duty ſupport the purpoſes of this preamble? Is not the ſupply there ſtated as effectually abandoned as if the tea duty had periſhed in the general wreck? Here, Mr. Speaker, is a precious mockery—a pre⯑amble without an act—taxes granted in order to be repealed—and the reaſons of the grant ſtill carefully kept up! This is raiſing a revenue in America! This is preſerving dignity in England! If you repeal this tax in compliance with the motion, I readily admit that you loſe this fair preamble. Eſti⯑mate your loſs in it. The object of the act is gone already; and all you ſuffer is the purging the Sta⯑tute-book of the opprobrium of an empty, abſurd, and falſe recital.

IT has been ſaid again and again, that the five taxes were repealed on commercial principles. It is ſo ſaid in the paper in my hand^c; a paper which I conſtantly carry about; which I have often uſed, and ſhall often uſe again. What is got by this paltry pretence of commercial principles I know not; for, if your government in America is de⯑ſtroyed by the repeal of taxes, it is of no conſequence upon what ideas the repeal is grounded. Repeal this tax too upon commercial principles if you [273] pleaſe. Theſe principles will ſerve as well now as they did formerly. But you know that, either your objection to a repeal from theſe ſuppo⯑ſed conſequences has no validity, or that this pre⯑tence never could remove it. This commercial motive never was believed by any man, either in America, which this letter is meant to ſoothe, or in England, which it is meant to deceive. It was impoſſible it ſhould. Becauſe every man, in the leaſt acquainted with the detail of commerce, muſt know, that ſeveral of the articles on which the tax was repealed were fitter objects of duties than al⯑moſt any other articles that could poſſibly be cho⯑ſen; without compariſon more ſo, than the Tea that was left taxed; as infinitely leſs liable to be eluded by contraband. The tax upon red and white Lead was of this nature. You have, in this kingdom, an advantage in Lead, that amounts to a monopoly. When you find yourſelf in this ſitu⯑ation of advantage, you ſometimes venture to tax even your own export. You did ſo, ſoon after the laſt war, when, upon this principle, you ventured to impoſe a duty on coals. In all the articles of American contraband trade, who ever heard of the ſmuggling of red lead, and white lead? You might, therefore, well enough, without danger of contraband, and without injury to commerce (if this were the whole conſideration) have taxed theſe commodities. The ſame may be ſaid of Glaſs. Beſides, ſome of the things taxed were ſo trivial, that the loſs of the objects themſelves, and their ut⯑ter annihilation out of American commerce, would have been comparatively as nothing. But is the article of Tea ſuch an object in the trade of Eng⯑land, as not to be felt, or felt but ſlightly, like white Lead, and red Lead, and Painters colours? Tea is an object of far other importance. Tea is perhaps the moſt important object, taking it with [274] its neceſſary connections, of any in the mighty cir⯑cle of our commerce. If commercial principles had been the true motives to the repeal, or had they been at all attended to, Tea would have been the laſt article we ſhould have left taxed for a ſubject of controverſy.

SIR, it is not a pleaſant conſideration; but no⯑thing in the world can read ſo awful and ſo inſtruc⯑tive a leſſon, as the conduct of miniſtry in this buſi⯑neſs, upon the miſchief of not having large and li⯑beral ideas in the management of great affairs. Never have the ſervants of the ſtate looked at the whole of your complicated intereſts in one connect⯑ed view. They have taken things, by bits and ſcraps, ſome at one time and one pretence, and ſome at another, juſt as they preſſed, without any ſort of regard to their relations or dependencies They never had any kind of ſyſtem, right or wrong; but only invented occaſionally ſome miſe⯑rable tale for the day, in order meanly to ſneak out of difficulties, into which they had proudly ſtrutted. And they were put to all theſe ſhifts and devices, full of meanneſs and full of miſchief, in order to pilſer piecemeal a repeal of an act, which they had not the generous courage, when they found and felt their error, honourably and fairly to diſclaim. By ſuch management, by the irreſiſtible operation of ſceble councils, ſo paltry a ſum as three-pence in the eyes of a financier, ſo inſignificant an article as tea in the eyes of a philoſopher, have ſhaken the pillars of a commercial empire that circled the whole globe.

Do you forget that, in the very laſt year, you ſtood on the precipice of general bankruptcy? Your danger was indeed great. You were diſtreſſ⯑ed in the affairs of the Eaſt India company; and you well know what ſort of things are involved in the comprehenſive energy of that ſignificant apella⯑tion. [275] I am not called upon to enlarge to you on that danger, which you thought proper yourſelves to aggravate, and to diſplay to the world with all the parade of indiſcreet declamation. The mono⯑poly of the moſt lucrative trades, and the poſſeſſion of imperial revenues, had brought you to the verge of beggary and ruin. Such was your repreſentation—ſuch, in ſome meaſure, was your caſe. The vent of ten millions of pounds of this commodity, now locked up by the operation of an injudicious tax, and rotting in the warehouſes of the company, would have prevented all this diſtreſs, and all that ſeries of deſperate meaſures which you thought yourſelves obliged to take in conſequence of it. America would have furniſhed that vent, which no other part of the world can furniſh but America; where Tea is next to a neceſſary of life; and where the demand grows upon the ſupply. I hope our dear-bought Eaſt India committees have done us at leaſt ſo much good, as to let us know, that without a more extenſive ſale of that article our Eaſt India revenues and acquiſitions can have no certain connection with this country. It is through the American trade of tea that your Eaſt India conqueſts are to be prevented from cruſhing you with their burthen. They are ponde⯑rous indeed; and they muſt have that great coun⯑try to lean upon, or they tumble upon your head. It is the ſame folly that has loſt you at once the be⯑nefit of the Weſt and of the Eaſt. This folly has thrown open folding-doors to contraband; and will be the means of giving the profits of the trade of your colonies, to every nation but yourſelves. Never did a people ſuffer ſo much for the empty words of a preamble. It muſt be given up. For on what principle does it ſtand? This famous re⯑venue ſtands, at this hour, on all the debate, as a deſcription of revenue not as yet known in all the comprehenſive (but too comprehenſive!) vocabu⯑lary of finance—a preambulary tax. It is indeed a [276] tax of ſophiſtry, a tax of pedantry, a tax of diſpu⯑tation, a tax of war and rebellion, a tax for any thing but benefit to the impoſers, or ſatisfaction to the ſubject.

WELL! but whatever it is, gentlemen will force the coloniſts to take the Teas. You will force them? has ſeven years ſtruggle been yet able to force them? Oh, but it ſeems ‘"we are in the right.—The tax is trifling—in effect it is rather an ex⯑oneration than an impoſition; three-fourths of the duty formerly payable on Teas exported to America is taken off; the place of collection is only ſhifted; inſtead of the retention of a ſhil⯑ling from the draw-back here, it is three-pence cuſtom paid in America."’ All this, ſir, is very true. But this is the very folly and miſchief of the act. Incredible as it may ſeem, you know that you have deliberately thrown away a large duty which you held ſecure and quiet in your hands, for the vain hope of getting one three-fourths leſs, through every hazard, through certain litigation, and poſſi⯑bly through war.

THE manner of proceeding in the duties on pa⯑per and glaſs, impoſed by the ſame act, was ex⯑actly in the ſame ſpirit. There are heavy exciſes on thoſe articles when uſed in England. On ex⯑port theſe exciſes are drawn back. But inſtead of withholding the draw-back, which might have been done, with eaſe, without charge, without poſſibility of ſmuggling; and inſtead of applying the money (money already in your hands) according to your pleaſure, you began your operations in finance by flinging away your revenue; you allowed the whole draw-back on export, and then you charged the duty, (which you had before diſcharged,) pay⯑able in the colonies; where it was certain the col⯑lection [277] would devour it to the bone; if any revenue were ever ſuffered to be collected at all. One ſpirit pervades and animates the whole maſs.

COULD any thing be a ſubject of more juſt alarm to America, than to ſee you go out of the plain high road of finance, and give up your moſt cer⯑tain revenues and your cleareſt intereſts, merely for the ſake of inſulting your colonies? No man ever doubted that the commodity of Tea could bear an impoſition of three-pence. But no com⯑modity will bear three-pence, or will bear a penny, when the general feelings of men are irritated, and two millions of people are reſolved not to pay. The feelings of the Colonies were formerly the feelings of Great Britain. Theirs were formerly the feelings of Mr. Hampden when called upon for the payment of twenty ſhillings. Would twenty ſhillings have ruined Mr. Hampden's for⯑tune? No! but the payment of half twenty ſhil⯑lings, on the principle it was demanded, would have made him a ſlave, It is the weight of that preamble, of which you are ſo fond, and not the weight of the duty, that the Americans are unable and unwilling to bear.

IT is then, ſir, upon the principle of this meaſure, and nothing elſe, that we are at iſſue. It is a prin⯑ciple of political expediency. Your act of 1767 aſſerts, that it is expedient to raiſe a revenue in America; your act of 1769, which takes away that revenue, contradicts the act of 1767; and, by ſomething much ſtronger than words, aſſerts, that it is not expedient. It is a reflection upon your wiſdom to perſiſt in a ſolemn parliamentary declaration of the expediency of any object, for which, at the ſame time, you make no ſort of pro⯑viſion. And pray, ſir, let not this circumſtance eſ⯑cape you; it is very material; that the preamble of [278] this act, which we wiſh to repeal, is not declaratory of a right, as ſome gentlemen ſeem to argue it; it is only a recital of the expediency of a certain exer⯑ciſe of a right ſuppoſed already to have been aſ⯑ſerted; an exerciſe you are now contending for by ways and means, which you confeſs, though they were obeyed, to be utterly inſufficient for their purpoſe. You are therefore at this moment in the aukward ſituation of fighting for a phantom; a quiddity; a thing that wants, not only a ſubſtance, but even a name; for a thing, which is neither ab⯑ſtract right, nor profitable enjoyment.

THEY tell you, ſir, that your dignity is tied to it. I know not how it happens, but this dignity of yours is a terrible incumbrance to you; for it has of late been ever at war with your intereſt, your equity, and every idea of your policy. Shew the thing you contend for to be reaſon; ſhew it to be common ſenſe; ſhew it to be the means of attain⯑ing ſome uſeful end; and then I am content to al⯑low it what dignity you pleaſe. But what dignity is derived from the perſeverance in abſurdity is more than ever I could diſcern. The hon. gentle⯑man has ſaid well—indeed, in moſt of his general obſervations I agree with him—he ſays, that this ſubject does not ſtand as it did formerly. Oh, certainly not! every hour you continue on this ill⯑choſen ground, your difficulties thicken on you; and therefore my concluſion is, remove from a bad poſition as quickly as you can. The diſgrace, and the neceſſity of yielding, both of them, grow upon you every hour of your delay.

BUT will you repeal the act, ſays the hon. gen⯑tleman, at this inſtant when America is in open reſiſtance to your authority, and that you have juſt revived your ſyſtem of taxation? He thinks he has driven us into a corner. But thus pent up, I am [279] content to meet him; becauſe I enter the liſts ſup⯑ported by my old authority, his new friends, the miniſters themſelves. The hon. gentleman re⯑members, that about five years ago as great diſ⯑turbances as the preſent prevailed in America on account of the new taxes. The miniſters repre⯑ſented theſe diſturbances as treaſonable; and this houſe thought proper, on that repreſentation, to make a famous addreſs for a revival, and for a new application, of a ſtatute of H. VIII. We be⯑ſought the king, in that well-conſidered addreſs, to inquire into treaſons, and to bring the ſuppoſed traitors from America to Great Britain for trial. His majeſty was pleaſed graciouſly to promiſe a compliance with our requeſt. All the attempts from this ſide of the houſe to reſiſt theſe violences, and to bring about a repeal, were treated with the ut⯑moſt ſcorn. An apprehenſion of the very conſe⯑quences now ſtated by the hon. gentleman, was then given as a reaſon for ſhutting the door againſt all hope of ſuch an alteration. And ſo ſtrong was the ſpirit for ſupporting the new taxes, that the ſeſſion concluded with the following remarkable declaration. After ſtating the vigorous meaſures which had been purſued, the ſpeech from the throne proceeds:

‘YOU have aſſured me of your firm ſupport in the proſecution of them. Nothing, in my opinion, could be more likely to enable the well-diſpoſed among my ſub⯑jects in that part of the world, effectually to diſcou⯑rage and defeat the deſigns of the factious and ſeditious, than the hearty concurrence of every branch of the le⯑giſlature, in maintaining the execution of the laws in every part of my dominions.’

AFTER this no man dreamt that a repeal under this miniſtry could poſſibly take place. The hon. gentleman knows as well as I, that the idea was [280] utterly exploded by thoſe who ſway the houſe. This ſpeech was made on the ninth day of May, 1769. Five days after this ſpeech, that is, on the 13th of the ſame month, the public circular letter, a part of which I am going to read to you, was written by lord Hillſborough, ſecretary of ſtate for the colonies. After reciting the ſubſtance of the king's ſpeech, he goes on thus:

HERE, ſir, is a canonical book of miniſterial ſcripture; the general epiſtle to the Americans. What does the gentleman ſay to it? Here a repeal is promiſed; promiſed without condition; and while your authority was actually reſiſted. I paſs [281] by the public promiſe of a peer relative to the re⯑peal of taxes by this houſe. I paſs by the uſe of the king's name in a matter of ſupply, that ſacred and reſerved right of the commons. I conceal the ridiculous figure of parliament, hurling its thunders at the gigantic rebellion of America; and then five days after, proſtrate at the feet of thoſe aſſemblies we affected to deſpiſe; begging them, by the intervention of our miniſterial ſureties, to receive our ſubmiſſion; and heartily promiſing amendment. Theſe might have been ſerious mat⯑ters formerly; but we are grown wiſer than our fathers. Paſſing, therefore, from the conſtitutional conſideration to the mere policy, does not this let⯑ter imply, that the idea of taxing America for the purpoſe of revenue is an abominable project; when the miniſtry ſuppoſe none but factious men, and with ſeditious views, could charge them with it? does not this letter adopt and ſanctify the American diſtinction of taxing for a revenue? does it not formally reject all future taxation on that principle? does it not ſtate the miniſterial rejection of ſuch principle of taxation, not as the occaſional, but the conſtant opinion of the king's ſervants? does it not ſay (I care not how conſiſtently), but does it not ſay, that their conduct with regard to America has been always governed by this policy? It goes a great deal further. Theſe excellent and truſty ſervants of the king, juſtly fearful leſt they themſelves ſhould have loſt all credit with the world, bring out the image of their gracious ſovereign from the inmoſt and moſt ſacred ſhrine, and they pawn him, as a ſecurity for their promiſes— ‘"His majeſty relies on your prudence and fidelity for ſuch an explanation of his meaſures."’ Theſe ſentiments of the miniſter, and theſe meaſures of his majeſty, can only relate to the principle and practice of taxing for a revenue; and accordingly [282] lord Botetourt, ſtating it as ſuch, did with great propriety, and in the exact ſpirit of his inſtructions, endeavour to remove the fears of the Virginian aſſembly, leſt the ſentiments, which it ſeems (un⯑known to the world) had always been thoſe of the miniſters, and by which their conduct in reſpect to America had been governed, ſhould by ſome poſſible revolution, favourable to wicked American taxers, be hereafter counteracted. He addreſſes them in this manner:

‘IT may poſſibly be objected, that as his majeſty's preſent adminiſtration are not immortal, their ſucceſ⯑ſors may be inclined to attempt to undo what the preſent miniſters ſhall have attempted to perform; and to that objection I can give but this anſwer: that it is my firm opinion, that the plan I have ſtated to you will certainly take place, and that it will never be departed from; and ſo determined am I for ever to abide by it, that I will be content to be declared infamous, if I do not, to the laſt hour of my life, at all times, in all places, and upon all occaſions, exert every power with which I either am, or ever ſhall be legally inveſted, in order to obtain and maintain for the continent of America that ſatisfaction which I have been authoriſed to promiſe this day, by the confidential ſervants of our gracious ſovereign, who to my certain knowledge rates his ho⯑nour ſo high, that he would rather part with his crown, than preſerve it by deceit.^d’

[283]A GLORIOUS and true character! which (ſince we ſuffer his miniſters with impunity to anſwer for his ideas of taxation) we ought to make it our bu⯑ſineſs to enable his majeſty to preſerve in all its luſtre. Let him have character, ſince ours is no more! Let ſome part of government be kept in reſpect!

THIS epiſtle was not the letter of lord Hillſbo⯑rough ſolely; though he held the official pen. It was the letter of the noble lord upon the floor,^e and of all the king's then miniſters, who (with I think the exception of two only) are his miniſters at this hour. The very firſt news that a Britiſh parli⯑ament heard of what it was to do with the duties which it had given and granted to the king, was by the publication of the votes of American aſſem⯑blies. It was in America that your reſolutions were pre-declared. It was from thence that we knew to a certainty, how much exactly, and not a ſcruple more or leſs, we were to repeal. We were un⯑worthy to be let into the ſecret of our own con⯑duct. The aſſemblies had confidential communica⯑tions from his majeſty's confidential ſervants. We were nothing but inſtruments. Do you, after this, wonder that you have no weight and no reſpect in the colonies? After this, are you ſurprized, that prrliament is every day and every where loſing (I feel it with ſorrow, I utter it with reluctance) that reverential affection, which ſo endearing a name of authority ought ever to carry with it; that you are obeyed ſolely from reſpect to the bayonet; [284] and that this houſe, the ground and pillar of free⯑dom, is itſelf held up only by the treacherous under-pinning and clumſy buttreſſes of arbitrary power?

IF this dignity, which is to ſtand in the place of juſt policy and common ſenſe, had been conſulted, there was a time for preſerving it, and for recon⯑ciling it with any conceſſion. If in the ſeſſion of 1768, that ſeſſion of idle terror and empty me⯑naces, you had, as you were often preſſed to do, repealed theſe taxes; then your ſtrong operations would have come juſtified and enforced, in caſe your conceſſions had been returned by outrages. But, prepoſterouſly, you began with violence; and before terrors could have any effect, either good or bad, your miniſters immediately begged pardon, and promiſed that repeal to the obſtinate Americans which they had refuſed in an eaſy, good-natured, complying Britiſh parliament. The aſſemblies, which had been publicly and avowedly diſſolved for their contumacy, are called together to receive your ſubmiſſion. Your miniſterial di⯑rectors bluſtered like tragic tyrants here; and then went mumping with a ſore leg in America, cant⯑ing, and whining, and complaining of faction, which repreſented them as friends to a revenue from the colonies. I hope nobody in this houſe will hereafter have the impudence to defend Ame⯑rican taxes in the name of miniſtry. The mo⯑ment they do, with this letter of attorney in my hand, I will tell them, in the authoriſed terms, they are wretches, ‘"with factious and ſeditious views: enemies to the peace and proſperity of the mo⯑ther country and the colonies," and ſubverters "of the mutual affection and confidence on which the glory and ſafety of the Britiſh empire de⯑pend."’

[285]AFTER this letter, the queſtion is no more on propriety or dignity. They are gone already. The faith of your ſovereign is pledged for the po⯑litical principle. The general declaration in the letter goes to the whole of it. You muſt therefore either abandon the ſcheme of taxing; or you muſt ſend the miniſters tarred and feathered to America; who dared to hold out the royal faith for a renun⯑ciation of all taxes for revenue. Them you, muſt puniſh, or this faith you muſt preſerve. The pre⯑ſervation of this faith is of more conſequence than the duties on red lead, or white lead, or on broken glaſs, or atlas ordinary, or demi-fine, or blue-royal, or baſtard, or fool's-cap, which you have given up; or the three pence on tea which you retained. The letter went ſtampt with the public authority of this kingdom. The inſtructions for the colony go⯑vernment go under no other ſanction; and Ame⯑rica cannot believe, and will not obey you, if you do not preſerve this channel of communication ſa⯑cred. You are now puniſhing the colonies for acting on diſtinctions, held out by that very mi⯑niſtry which is here ſhining in riches, in favour, and in power; and urging the puniſhment of the very offence, to which they had themſelves been the tempters.

SIR, if reaſons reſpecting ſimply your own com⯑merce, which is your own convenience, were the ſole grounds of the repeal of the five duties; why does lord Hillſborough, in diſclaiming in the name of the king and miniſtry their ever had having an intent to tax for revenue, mention it as the means ‘"of re-eſtabliſhing the confidence and affection of the colonies?"’ Is it a way of ſoothing others, to aſſure them that you will take good care of yourſelf? The medium, the only medium, for regaining their affection and confidence, is, that you will [286] take off ſomething oppreſſive to their minds. Sir, the letter ſtrongly enforces that idea; for though the repeal of the taxes is promiſed on commercial principles, yet the means of counteracting ‘"the inſinuations of men with factious and ſeditious views,"’ is by a diſclaimer of the intention of taxing for revenue, as a conſtant invariable ſenti⯑ment and rule of conduct in the government of America.

I REMEMBER that the noble lord on the floor, not in a former debate to be ſure (it would be diſorderly to refer to it, I ſuppoſe I read it ſome⯑where), but the noble lord was pleaſed to ſay, that he did not conceive how it could enter into the head of man to impoſe ſuch taxes as thoſe of 1767; I mean thoſe taxes which he voted for impoſing, and voted for repealing; as being taxes, contrary to all the principles of commerce, laid on Britiſh manufactures.

I DARE ſay the noble lord is perfectly well read, becauſe the duty of his particular office requires he ſhould be ſo, in all our revenue laws; and in the policy which is to be collected out of them. Now, ſir, when he had read this act of American reve⯑nue, and a little recovered from his aſtoniſhment, I ſuppoſe he made one ſtep retrograde (it is but one) and looked at the act which ſtands juſt before in the ſtatute book. The American revenue act is the forty-fifth chapter; the other to which I refer is the forty-fourth of the ſame ſeſſion. Theſe two acts are both to the ſame purpoſe; both revenue acts; both taxing out of the kingdom; and both taxing Britiſh manufactures exported. As the 45th is an act for raiſing a revenue in America, the 44th is an act for raiſing a revenue in the Iſle of Man. The two acts perfectly agree in all reſpects, except one. In the act for taxing the Iſle of Man, the [287] noble lord will find (not, as in the American act, four or five articles) but almoſt the whole body of Britiſh manufactures, taxed from two and an half to fifteen per cent. and ſome articles, ſuch as that of ſpirits, a great deal higher. You did not think it uncommercial to tax the whole maſs of your ma⯑nufactures, and, let me add, your agriculture too; for, I now recollect, Britiſh corn is there alſo taxed up to ten per cent. and this too in the very head⯑quarters, the very citadel of ſmuggling, the Iſle of Man. Now will the noble lord condeſcend to tell me why he repealed the taxes on your manufac⯑tures ſent out to America, and not the taxes on the manufactures exported to the Iſle of Man? The principle was exactly the ſame, the objects charged infinitely more extenſive, the duties with⯑out compariſon higher. Why? why, notwith⯑ſtanding all his childiſh pretexts, becauſe the taxes were quietly ſubmitted to in the Iſle of Man; and becauſe they raiſed a flame in America. Your reaſons were political, not commercial. The re⯑peal was made, as lord Hillſborough's letter well expreſſes it, to regain ‘"the confidence and affec⯑tion of the colonies, on which the glory and ſafety of the Britiſh empire depend."’ A wiſe and juſt motive ſurely, if ever there was ſuch. But the miſchief and diſhonour is, that you have not done what you had given the colonies juſt cauſe to expect, when your miniſters diſclaimed the idea of taxes for a revenue. There is nothing ſimple, nothing manly, nothing ingenuous, open, deci⯑ſive, or ſteady, in the proceeding, with regard either to the continuance or the repeal of the taxes. The whole has an air of littleneſs and fraud. The article of tea is ſlurred over in the circular letter, as it were by accident—nothing is ſaid of a reſolu⯑tion either to keep that tax, or to give it up. There is no fair dealing in any part of the tranſaction.

[288]IF you mean to follow your true motive and your public faith, give up your tax on tea for raiſ⯑ing a revenue, the principle of which has, in effect, been diſclaimed in your name; and which produces you no advantages; no, not a penny. Or, if you chooſe to go on with a poor pretence inſtead of a ſolid reaſon, and will ſtill adhere to your cant of commerce, you have ten thouſand times more ſtrong commercial reaſons for giving up this duty on tea, than for abandoning the five others that you have already renounced.

THE American conſumption of teas is annually, I believe, worth 300,000l. at the leaſt farthing. If you urge the American violence as a juſtification of your perſeverance in enforcing this tax, you know that you can never anſwer this plain queſtion—Why did you repeal the others given in the ſame act, whilſt the very ſame violence ſubſiſted? But you did not find the violence ceaſe upon that conceſſion.—No! becauſe the conceſſion was far ſhort of ſatisfy⯑ing the principle which lord Hillſborough had ab⯑jured; or even the pretence on which the repeal of the other taxes was announced: and becauſe, by enabling the Eaſt India company to open a ſhop for defeating the American reſolution not to pay that ſpecific tax, you manifeſtly ſhewed a hanker⯑ing after the principle of the act which you for⯑merly had renounced. Whatever road you take leads to a compliance with this motion. It opens to you at the end of every viſta. Your commerce, your policy, your promiſes, your reaſons, your pretences, your conſiſtency, your inconſiſtency—all jointly oblige you to this repeal.

BUT ſtill it ſticks in our throats, if we go ſo far, the Americans will go farther.—We do not know that. We ought, from experience, rather to pre⯑ſume the contrary. Do we not know for certain, [289] that the Americans are going on as faſt as poſſible, whilſt we refuſe to gratify them? can they do more, or can they do worſe, if we yield this point? I think this conceſſion will rather fix a turnpike to prevent their further progreſs. It is impoſſible to anſwer for bodies of men. But I am ſure the na⯑tural effect of fidelity, clemency, kindneſs in go⯑vernors, is peace, good-will, order, and eſteem, on the part of the governed. I would certainly, at leaſt, give theſe fair principles a fair trial; which, ſince the making of this act to this hour, they ne⯑ver have had.

SIR, The hon. gentleman having ſpoken what he thought neceſſary upon the narrow part of the ſubject, I have given him, I hope, a ſatisfactory anſwer. He next preſſes me by a variety of direct challenges and oblique reflexions to ſay ſomething on the hiſtorical part. I ſhall therefore, ſir, open myſelf fully on that important and delicate ſubject; not for the ſake of telling you a long ſtory (which, I know, Mr. Speaker, you are not particularly fond of), but for the ſake of the weighty inſtruction that, I flatter myſelf, will neceſſarily reſult from it. It ſhall not be longer, if I can help it, than ſo ſerious a matter requires.

PERMIT me then, ſir, to lead your attention very far back; back to the act of navigation; the corner-ſtone of the policy of this country with regard to its colonies. Sir, that policy was, from the be⯑ginning, purely commercial; and the commercial ſyſtem was wholly reſtrictive. It was the ſyſtem of a monopoly. No trade was let looſe from that con⯑ſtraint, but merely to enable the coloniſts to diſpoſe of what, in the courſe of your trade, you could not take; or to enable them to diſpoſe of ſuch articles as we forced upon them, and for which, without ſome degree of liberty, they could not pay. Hence all [290] your ſpecific and detailed enumerations: hence the innumerable checks and counter-checks: hence that infinite variety of paper chains by which you bind together this complicated ſyſtem of the Colonies. This principle of commercial monopoly runs through no leſs than twenty-nine acts of parliament, from the year 1660 to the unfortunate period of 1764.

IN all thoſe acts the ſyſtem of commerce is eſta⯑bliſhed, as that, from whence alone you propoſed to make the Colonies contribute (I mean directly and by the operation of your ſuperintending legiſ⯑lative power) to the ſtrength of the empire. I ven⯑ture to ſay, that during that whole period, a parlia⯑mentary revenue from thence was never once in contemplation. Accordingly in all the number of laws paſſed with regard to the plantations, the words which diſtinguiſh revenue laws, ſpecifically as ſuch, were, I think, premeditately avoided. I do not ſay, ſir, that a form of words alters the nature of the law, or abridges the power of the lawgiver. It certainly does not. However, titles and formal preambles are not always idle words; and the law⯑yers frequently argue from them. I ſtate theſe facts to ſhew, not what was your right, but what has been your ſettled policy. Our revenue laws have uſually a title, purporting their being grants; and the words give and grant uſually precede the enacting parts. Although duties were impoſed on America in acts of king Charles the ſecond, and in acts of king William, no one title of giving ‘"an aid to his majeſty,"’ or any other of the uſual titles to revenue acts, was to be found in any of them till 1764; nor were the words ‘"give and grant"’ in any preamble until the 6th of George the ſecond. However, the title of this act of George the ſecond, notwithſtanding the words of [291] donation, conſiders it merely as a regulation of trade, ‘"An act for the better ſecuring of the trade of his majeſty's ſugar colonies in America."’ This act was made on a compromiſe of all, and at the expreſs deſire of a part, of the colonies them⯑ſelves. It was therefore in ſome meaſure with their conſent; and having a title directly purporting only a commercial regulation, and being in truth nothing more, the words were paſſed by, at a time when no jealouſy was entertained, and things were little ſcrutinized. Even governor Bernard, in his ſecond printed letter, dated in 1763, gives it as his opinion, that, ‘"it was an act of prohibition, not of revenue."’ This is certainly true; that no act avowedly for the purpoſe of revenue, and with the ordinary title and recital taken together, is found in the ſtatute book until the year I have mentioned; that is, the year 1764. All before this period ſtood on commercial regulation and reſtraint. The ſcheme of a colony revenue by Britiſh authority appeared therefore to the Americans in the light of a great innovation. The words of governor Bernard's ninth letter, written in November 1765, ſtate this idea very ſtrongly; ‘"it muſt," ſays he, "have been ſup⯑poſed, ſuch an innovation as a parliamentary taxa⯑tion, would cauſe a great alarm, and meet with much oppoſition in moſt parts of America; it was quite new to the people, and had no viſible bounds ſet to it."’ After ſtating the weakneſs of govern⯑ment there, he ſays, ‘"was this a time to introduce ſo great a novelty as a parliamentary inland taxa⯑tion in America?"’ Whatever the right might have been, this mode of uſing it was abſolutely new in policy and practice.

SIR, they who are friends to the ſchemes of American revenue ſay, that the commercial re⯑ſtraint is full as hard a law for America to live un⯑der. [292] I think ſo too. I think it, if uncompenſated, to be a condition of as rigorous ſervitude as men can be ſubject to. But America bore it from the fundamental act of navigation until 1764.—Why? Becauſe men do bear the inevitable conſtitution of original nature with all its infirmities. The act of navigation attended the Colonies from their infan⯑cy, grew with their growth, and ſtrengthened with their ſtrength. They were confirmed in obedience to it, even more by uſage than by law. They ſcarcely had remembered a time when they were not ſubject to ſuch reſtraint. Beſides, they were indemnified for it by a pecuniary compenſation. Their monopoliſt happened to be one of the richeſt men in the world. By his immenſe capital (prima⯑rily employed, not for their benefit, but his own) they were enabled to proceed with their fiſheries, their agriculture, their ſhip-building (and their trade too within the limits), in ſuch a manner as got far the ſtart of the ſlow languid operations of unaſſiſted nature. This capital was a hot-bed to them. Nothing in the hiſtory of mankind is like their progreſs. For my part, I never caſt an eye on their flouriſhing commerce, and their cultivated and commodious life, but they ſeem to me rather ancient nations grown to perfection through a long ſeries of fortunate events, and a train of ſucceſsful induſtry, accumulating wealth in many centuries, than the Colonies of yeſterday; than a ſet of miſe⯑rable out-caſts, a few years ago, not ſo much ſent as thrown out, on the bleak and barren ſhore of a deſolate wilderneſs three thouſand miles from all ci⯑vilized intercourſe.

ALL this was done by England, whilſt England purſued trade, and forgot revenue. You not only acquired commerce, but you actually created the very objects of trade in America; and by that [293] creation you raiſed the trade of this kingdom at leaſt four-fold. America had the compenſation of your capital, which made her bear her ſervitude. She had another compenſation, which you are now going to take away from her. She had, except the commercial reſtraint, every characteriſtic mark of a free people in all her internal concerns. She had the image of the Britiſh conſtitution. She had the ſubſtance. She was taxed by her own repre⯑ſentatives. She choſe moſt of her own repreſenta⯑tives. She paid them all. She had in effect the ſole diſpoſal of her own internal government. This whole ſtate of commercial ſervitude and civil liber⯑ty, taken together, is certainly not perfect free⯑dom; but, comparing it with the ordinary circum⯑ſtances of human nature, it was an happy and a liberal condition.

I KNOW, ſir, that great and not unſucceſsful pains have been taken to inflame our minds by an outery, in this houſe and out of it, that in America the act of navigation neither is, or ever was, obey⯑ed. But if you take the colonies through, I affirm, that its authority never was diſputed; that it was no where diſputed for any length of time; and on the whole, that it was well obſerved. Wherever the act preſſed hard, many individuals indeed evaded it. This is nothing. Theſe ſcattered indi⯑viduals never denied the law, and never obeyed it. Juſt as it happens whenever the laws of trade, whenever the laws of revenue, preſs hard upon the people in England; in that caſe all your ſhores are full of contraband. Your right to give a mo⯑nopoly to the Eaſt India company, your right to lay immenſe duties on French brandy, are not diſputed in England. You do not make this charge on any man. But you know that there is not a creek from Pentland Frith to the Iſle of Wight, [294] in which they do not ſmuggle immenſe quantities of Teas, Eaſt India goods, and brandies. I take it for granted, that the authority of governor Bernard in this point is indiſputable. Speaking of theſe laws, as they regarded that part of America now in ſo unhappy a condition, he ſays, ‘"I believe they are no where better ſupported than in this province: I do not pretend that it is entirely free from a breach of theſe laws; but that ſuch a breach, if diſcovered, is juſtly puniſhed."’ What more can you ſay of the obedience to any laws in any coun⯑try? An obedience to theſe laws formed the ac⯑knowledgment, inſtituted by yourſelves, for your ſuperiority; and was the payment you originally impoſed for your protection.

WHETHER you were right or wrong in eſta⯑bliſhing the colonies on the principles of commer⯑cial monopoly, rather than on that of revenue, is at this day a problem of mere ſpeculation. You can⯑not have both by the ſame authority. To join to⯑gether the reſtraints of an univerſal internal and ex⯑ternal monopoly, with an univerſal internal and ex⯑ternal taxation, is an unnatural union; perfect un⯑compenſated ſlavery. You have long ſince decid⯑ed for yourſelf and them; and you and they have proſpered exceedingly under that deciſion.

THIS nation, ſir, never thought of departing from that choice until the period immediately on the cloſe of the laſt war. Then a ſcheme of go⯑vernment new in many things ſeemed to have been adopted. I ſaw, or thought I ſaw, ſeveral ſymptoms of a great change, whilſt I ſat in your gallery, a good while before I had the honour of a ſeat in this houſe. At that period the neceſſity was eſtabliſhed of keeping up no leſs than twenty new regiments, with twenty colonels capable of ſeats in this houſe. This ſcheme was adopted with very [295] general applauſe from all ſides, at the very time that, by your conqueſts in America, your danger from foreign attempts in that part of the world was much leſſened, or indeed rather quite over. When this huge increaſe of military eſtabliſhment was re⯑ſolved on, a revenue was to be found to ſupport ſo great a burthen. Country gentlemen, the great patrons of oeconomy, and the great reſiſters of a ſtanding armed force, would not have entered with much alacrity into the vote for ſo large and ſo expenſive an army, if they had been very ſure that they were to continue to pay for it. But hopes of another kind were held out to them; and in parti⯑cular, I well remember, that Mr. Townſhend, in a brilliant harangue on this ſubject, did dazzle them, by playing before their eyes the image of a reve⯑nue to be raiſed in America.

HERE began to dawn the firſt glimmerings of this new Colony ſyſtem. It appeared more diſ⯑tinctly afterwards, when it was devolved upon a perſon to whom, on other accounts, this country owes very great obligations. I do believe, that he had a very ſerious deſire to benefit the public. But with no ſmall ſtudy of the detail, he did not ſeem to have his view, at leaſt equally, carried to the to⯑tal circuit of our affairs. He generally conſidered his objects in lights that were rather too detached. Whether the buſineſs of an American revenue was impoſed upon him altogether; whether it was en⯑tirely the reſult of his own ſpeculation; or, what is more probable, that his own ideas rather coincid⯑ed with the inſtructions he had received; certain it is, that, with the beſt intentions in the world, he firſt brought this fatal ſcheme into form, and eſta⯑bliſhed it by act of parliament.

NO man can believe, that at this time of day I mean to lean on the venerable memory of a great [296] man, whoſe loſs we deplore in common. Our lit⯑tle party-differences have been along ago compoſ⯑ed; and I have acted more with him, and certain⯑ly with more pleaſure with him, than ever I acted againſt him. Undoubtedly Mr. Grenville was a firſt-rate figure in this country. With a maſculine underſtanding, and a ſtout and reſolute heart, he had an application undiſſipated and unwearied. He took public buſineſs, not as a duty which he was to fulfil, but as a pleaſure he was to enjoy; and he ſeemed to have no delight out of this houſe, ex⯑cept in ſuch things as ſome way related to the buſi⯑neſs that was to be done within it. If he was ambi⯑tious, I will ſay this for him, his ambition was of a noble and generous ſtrain. It was to raiſe himſelf, not by the low pimping politics of a court, but to win his way to power, through the laborious grada⯑tions of public ſervice; and to ſecure to himſelf a well-earned rank in parliament, by a thorough knowledge of its conſtitution, and a perfect prac⯑tice in all its buſineſs.

SIR, if ſuch a man fell into errors, it muſt be from defects not intrinſical; they muſt be rather ſought in the particular habits of his life; which, though they do not alter the ground-work of charac⯑ter, yet tinge it with their own hue. He was bred in a profeſſion. He was bred to the law, which is, in my opinion, one of the firſt and nobleſt of human ſciences: a ſcience which does more to quicken and invigorate the underſtanding, than all the other kinds of learning put together; but it is not apt, except in perſons very happily born, to open and to liberalize the mind exactly in the ſame proporti⯑on. Paſſing from that ſtudy he did not go very largely into the world; but plunged into buſineſs; I mean into the buſineſs of office; and the limited and fixed methods and forms eſtabliſhed there. [297] Much knowledge is to be had undoubtedly in that line; and there is no knowledge which is not valu⯑able. But it may be truly ſaid, that men too much converſant in office are rarely minds of re⯑markable enlargement. Their habits of office are apt to give them a turn to think the ſubſtance of buſineſs not to be much more important than the forms in which it is conducted. Theſe forms are adapted to ordinary occaſions; and therefore per⯑ſons who are nurtured in office do admirably well, as long as things go on in their common order; but when the high roads are broken up, and the waters out, when a new and troubled ſcene is opened, and the file affords no precedent, then it is that a greater knowledge of mankind, and a far more extenſive comprehenſion of things, is requi⯑ſite than ever office gave, or than office can ever give. Mr. Grenville thought better of the wiſdom and power of human legiſlation than in truth it de⯑ſerves. He conceived, and many conceived along with him, that the flouriſhing trade of this country was greatly owing to law and inſtitution, and not quite ſo much to liberty; for but too many are apt to believe regulation to be commerce, and taxes to be revenue. Among regulations, that which ſtood firſt in reputation was his idol. I mean the act of navigation. He has often profeſſed it to be ſo. The policy of that act is, I readily admit, in many reſpects well underſtood. But I do ſay, that, if the act be ſuffered to run the full length of its prin⯑ciple, and is not changed and modified according to the change of times and the fluctuation of cir⯑cumſtances, it muſt do great miſchief, and fre⯑quently even defeat its own purpoſe.

AFTER the war, and in the laſt year of it, the trade of America had encreaſed far beyond the ſpeculations of the moſt ſanguine imagination. It [298] ſwelled out on every ſide. It filled all its proper channels to the brim. It overflowed with a rich redundance, and, breaking its banks on the right and on the left, it ſpread out upon ſome places, where it was indeed improper, upon others where it was only irregular. It is the nature of all great⯑neſs not to be exact; and great trade will always be attended with conſiderable abuſes. The con⯑traband will always keep pace in ſome meaſure with the fair trade. It ſhould ſtand as a funda⯑mental maxim, that no vulgar precaution ought to be employed in the cure of evils, which are cloſely connected with the cauſe of our proſperity. Perhaps this great perſon turned his eyes ſomewhat leſs than was juſt, towards the incredible increaſe of the fair trade; and looked with ſomething of too exquiſite a jealouſy towards the contraband. He certainly felt a ſingular degree of anxiety on the ſubject; and even began to act from that paſſion earlier than is commonly imagined. For whilſt he was firſt lord of the admiralty, though not ſtrictly called upon in his official line, he preſented a very ſtrong memorial to the lords of the treaſury (my lord Bute was then at the head of the board) heavily complaining of the growth of the illicit commerce in America. Some miſchief happened even at that time from this over-earneſt zeal. Much greater happened afterwards when it operated with greater power in the higheſt department of the finances. The bonds of the act of navigation were ſtraitened ſo much, that America was on the point of having no trade, either contraband or le⯑gitimate. They found, under the conſtruction and execution then uſed, the act no longer tying but actually ſtrangling them. All this coming with new enumerations of commodities; with re⯑gulations which in a manner put a ſtop to the mu⯑tual coaſting intercourſe of the colonies; with the [299] appointment of courts of admiralty under various improper circumſtances; with a ſudden extinc⯑tion of the paper currencies; with a compulſory proviſion for the quartering of ſoldiers; the people of America thought themſelves proceeded againſt as delinquents, or at beſt as people under ſuſpicion of delinquency; and in ſuch a manner as, they imagined, their recent ſervices in the war did not at all merit. Any of theſe innumerable regulati⯑ons, perhaps, would not have alarmed alone; ſome might be thought reaſonable; the multitude ſtruck them with terror.

BUT the grand manoeuvre in that buſineſs of new regulating the colonies, was the 15th act of the fourth of George III.; which, beſides contain⯑ing ſeveral of the matters to which I have juſt alluded, opened a new principle: and here pro⯑perly began the ſecond period of the policy of this country with regard to the colonies; by which the ſcheme of a regular plantation parliamentary reve⯑nue was adopted in theory, and ſettled in practice. A revenue not ſubſtituted in the place of, but ſu⯑peradded to, a monopoly; which monopoly was enforced at the ſame time with additional ſtrictneſs, and the execution put into military hands.

THIS act, ſir, had for the firſt time the title of ‘"granting duties in the colonies and plantations of America;"’ and for the firſt time it was aſſerted in the preamble, ‘"that it was juſt and neceſſary that a revenue ſhould be raiſed there."’ Then came the technical words of ‘"giving and grant⯑ing;"’ and thus a complete American revenue act was made, in all the forms, and with a full avowal of the right, equity, policy, and even neceſſity, of taxing the colonies, without any formal conſent of theirs. There are contained alſo in the pre⯑amble to that act theſe very remarkable words— [300] the commons, &c.— ‘"being deſirous to make ſome proviſion in the preſent ſeſſion of parliament to⯑wards raiſing the ſaid revenue."’ By theſe words it appeared to the colonies, that this act was but a beginning of ſorrows; that every ſeſſion was to produce ſomething of the ſame kind; that we were to go on from day to day, in charging them with ſuch taxes as we pleaſed, for ſuch a military force as we ſhould think proper. Had this plan been purſued, it was evident that the provincial aſſem⯑blies, in which the Americans felt all their portion of importance, and beheld their ſole image of freedom, were ipſo facto annihilated. This ill proſ⯑pect before them ſeemed to be boundleſs in extent, and endleſs in duration. Sir, they were not miſ⯑taken. The miniſtry valued themſelves when this act paſſed, and when they gave notice of the ſtamp act, that both of the duties came very ſhort of their ideas of American taxation. Great was the applauſe of this meaſure here. In England we cried out for new taxes on America, whilſt they cried out that they were nearly cruſhed with thoſe which the war and their own grants had brought upon them.

SIR, it has been ſaid in the debate, that when the firſt American revenue act (the act in 1764, impoſing the port duties) paſſed, the Americans did not object to the principle. It is true they touched it but very tenderly. It was not a direct attack. They were, it is true, as yet novices; as yet unaccuſtomed to direct attacks upon any of the rights of parliament. The duties were port duties, like thoſe they had been accuſtomed to bear; with this difference, that the title was not the ſame, the preamble not the ſame, and the ſpirit altogether unlike. But of what ſervice is this ob⯑ſervation to the cauſe of thoſe that make it? It is a [301] full refutation of the pretence for their preſent cruelty to America; for it ſhews, out of their own mouths, that our colonies were backward to enter into the preſent vexatious and ruinous controverſy.

THERE is alſo another circulation abroad, (ſpread with a malignant intention, which I cannot attri⯑bute to thoſe who ſay the ſame thing in this houſe) that Mr. Grenville gave the colony agents an option for their aſſemblies to tax themſelves, which they had refuſed. I find that much ſtreſs is laid on this, as a fact. However, it happens neither to be true nor poſſible. I will obſerve firſt, that Mr. Gren⯑ville never thought fit to make this apology for himſelf in the innumerable debates that were had upon the ſubject. He might have propoſed to the colony agents, that they ſhould agree in ſome mode of taxation as the ground of an act of parlia⯑ment. But he never could have propoſed that they ſhould tax themſelves on requiſition, which is the aſſertion of the day. Indeed, Mr. Grenville well knew, that the colony agents could have no general powers to conſent to it; and they had no time to conſult their aſſemblies for particular pow⯑ers, before he paſſed his firſt revenue act. If you compare dates, you will find it impoſſible. Bur⯑thened as the agents knew the colonies were at that time, they could not give the leaſt hope of ſuch grants. His own favourite governor was of opi⯑nion that the Americans were not then taxable objects:

‘"NOR was the time leſs favourable to the equity of ſuch a taxation. I don't mean to diſpute the rea⯑ſonableneſs of America contributing to the charges of Great Britain when ſhe is able; nor, I believe, would the Americans themſelves have diſputed it, at a proper time and ſeaſon. But it ſhould be conſidered, that the American governments themſelves have, in the pro⯑ſecution [302] of the late war, contracted very large debts; which it will take ſome years to pay off, and in the mean time occaſion very burdenſome taxes for that purpoſe only. For inſtance, this government, which is as much beforehand as any, raiſes every year 37,500l. ſterling for ſinking their debt, and muſt con⯑tinue it for four years longer at leaſt before it will be clear."’

THESE are the words of governor Bernard's letter to a member of the old miniſtry, and which he has ſince printed. Mr. Grenville could not have made this propoſition to the agents, for ano⯑ther reaſon. He was of opinion, which he has de⯑clared in this houſe an hundred times, that the co⯑lonies could not legally grant any revenue to the crown; and that infinite miſchiefs would be the conſequence of ſuch a power. When Mr. Gren⯑ville had paſſed the firſt revenue act, and in the ſame ſeſſion had made this houſe come to a reſolu⯑tion for laying a ſtamp-duty on America; between that time and the paſſing the ſtamp-act into a law, he told a conſiderable and moſt reſpectable mer⯑chant, a member of this houſe, whom I am truly ſorry I do not now ſee in his place, when he re⯑preſented againſt this proceeding, that if the ſtamp-duty was diſliked, he was willing to exchange it for any other equally productive; but that, if he objected to the Americans being taxed by parlia⯑ment, he might ſave himſelf the trouble of the diſcuſſion, as he was determined on the meaſure. This is the fact, and, if you pleaſe, I will mention a very unqueſtionable authority for it.

THUS, ſir, I have diſpoſed of this falſehood. But falſehood has a perennial ſpring. It is ſaid, that no conjecture could be made of the diſlike of the colonies to the principle. This is as untrue as the other. After the reſolution of the houſe, and [303] before the paſſing of the ſtamp-act, the colonies of Maſſachuſet's Bay and New York did ſend remon⯑ſtrances, objecting to this mode of parliamentary taxation. What was the conſequence? They were ſuppreſſed; they were put under the table; not⯑withſtanding an order of council to the contrary, by the miniſtry which compoſed the very council that had made the order; and thus the houſe pro⯑ceeded to its buſineſs of taxing, without the leaſt regular knowledge of the objections which were made to it. But, to give that houſe its due, it was not over-deſirous to receive information, or to hear remonſtrance. On the 15th of February, 1765, whilſt the ſtamp-act was under deliberation, they refuſed with ſcorn even ſo much as to receive four petitions preſented from ſo reſpectable colonies as Connecticut, Rhode Iſland, Virginia, and Carolina; beſides one from the traders of Jamaica. As to the colonies, they had no alternative left to them, but to diſobey; or to pay the taxes impoſed by that parliament which was not ſuffered, or did not ſuffer itſelf, even to hear them remonſtrate upon the ſub⯑ject.

THIS was the ſtate of the colonies before his ma⯑jeſty thought fit to change his miniſters. It ſtands upon no authority of mine. It is proved by un⯑controvertible records. The hon. gentleman has deſired ſome of us to lay our hands upon our hearts, and anſwer to his queries upon the hiſtorical part of this conſideration; and by his manner (as well as my eyes could diſcern it) he ſeemed to addreſs himſelf to me.

SIR, I will anſwer him as clearly as I am able, and with great openneſs: I have nothing to con⯑ceal. In the year ſixty-five, being in a very pri⯑vate ſtation, far enough from any line of buſineſs, and not having the honour of a ſeat in this houſe, [304] it was my fortune, unknowing and unknown to the then miniſtry, by the intervention of a common friend, to become connected with a very noble perſon, and at the head of the treaſury department. It was indeed in a ſituation of little rank and no conſequence, ſuitable to the mediocrity of my ta⯑lents and pretenſions. But a ſituation near enough to enable me to ſee, as well as others, what was going on; and I did ſee in that noble perſon ſuch ſound principles, ſuch an enlargement of mind, ſuch clear and ſagacious ſenſe, and ſuch unſhaken fortitude, as have bound me, as well as others much better than me, by an inviolable attachment to him from that time forward. Sir, lord Rocking⯑ham very early in that ſummer received a ſtrong repreſentation from many weighty Engliſh mer⯑chants and manufacturers, from governors of pro⯑vinces and commanders of men of war, againſt almoſt the whole of the American commercial re⯑gulations: and particularly with regard to the total ruin which was threatened to the Spaniſh trade. I believe, ſir, the noble lord ſoon ſaw his way in this buſineſs. But he did not raſhly determine againſt acts which it might be ſuppoſed were the reſult of much deliberation. However, ſir, he ſcarcely be⯑gan to open the ground, when the whole veteran body of office took the alarm. A violent outcry of all (except thoſe who knew and felt the miſ⯑chief) was raiſed againſt any alteration. On one hand, his attempt was a direct violation of treaties and public law.—On the other, the act of naviga⯑tion and all the corps of trade laws were drawn up in array againſt it.

THE firſt ſtep the noble lord took, was to have the opinion of his excellent, learned, and ever⯑lamented friend the late Mr. Yorke, then attorney general, on the point of law. When he knew [305] that formally and officially, which in ſubſtance he had known before, he immediately diſpatched or⯑ders to redreſs the grievance. But I will ſay it for the then miniſter, he is of that conſtitution of mind, that I know he would have iſſued, on the ſame critical occaſion, the very ſame orders, if the acts of trade had been, as they were not, directly againſt him: and would have chearfully ſubmit⯑ted to the equity of parliament for his indemnity.

ON the concluſion of this buſineſs of the Spaniſh trade, the news of the troubles, on account of the ſtamp-act, arrived in England. It was not until the end of October that theſe accounts were re⯑ceived. No ſooner had the ſound of that mighty tempeſt reached us in England, than the whole of the then oppoſition, inſtead of feeling humbled by the unhappy iſſue of their meaſures, ſeemed to be infinitely elated, and cried out, that the miniſtry, from envy to the glory of their predeceſſors, were prepared to repeal the ſtamp-act. Near nine years after, the hon. gentleman takes quite oppoſite ground, and now challenges me to put my hand to my heart, and ſay, whether the miniſtry had re⯑ſolved on the repeal till a conſiderable time after the meeting of parliament. Though I do not very well know what the hon. gentleman wiſhes to infer from the admiſſion, or from the denial, of this fact, on which he ſo earneſtly adjures me; I do put my hand on my heart, and aſſure him, that they did not come to a reſolution directly to repeal. They weighed this matter as its difficulty and importance required. They conſidered maturely among them⯑ſelves. They conſulted with all who could give advice or information. It was not determined until a little before the meeting of parliament; but it was determined, and the main lines of their own plan marked out, before that meeting. Two queſtions [306] aroſe. (I hope I am not going into a narrative trou⯑bleſome to the houſe)

[A cry of, Go on, go on.]

THE firſt of the two conſiderations was, whe⯑ther the repeal ſhould be total, or whether only partial; taking out every thing burthenſome and productive, and reſerving only an empty acknow⯑ledgment, ſuch as a ſtamp on cards and dice. The other queſtion was, On what principle the act ſhould be repealed? On this head alſo two princi⯑ples were ſtarted. One, that the legiſlative rights of this country, with regard to America, were not entire, but had certain reſtrictions and limitations. The other principle was, that taxes of this kind were contrary to the fundamental principles of commerce on which the colonies were founded; and contrary to every idea of political equity; by which equity we are bound, as much as poſſible to extend the ſpirit and benefit of the Britiſh conſtitu⯑tion to every part of the Britiſh dominions. The option, both of the meaſure and of the principle of repeal, was made before the ſeſſion; and I wonder how any one can read the king's ſpeech at the opening of that ſeſſion, without ſeeing in that ſpeech both the repeal and the declaratory act very ſufficiently crayoned out. Thoſe who cannot ſee this, can ſee nothing.

SURELY the hon. gentleman will not think that a great deal leſs time than was then employed, ought to have been ſpent in deliberation; when he con⯑ſiders that the news of the troubles did not arrive till towards the end of October. The parliament ſat to fill the vacancies on the 14th day of December, and on buſineſs the 14th of the following Ja⯑nuary.

[307]SIR, a partial repeal, or, as the bon ton of court then was, a modification, would have ſatisfied a ti⯑mid, unſyſtematic, procraſtinating miniſtry, as ſuch a meaſure has ſince done ſuch a miniſtry. A modification is the conſtant reſource of weak un⯑deciding minds. To repeal by a denial of our right to tax in the preamble (and this too did not want adviſers), would have cut, in the heroic ſtyle, the Gordian knot with a ſword. Either meaſure would have coſt no more than a day's debate. But when the total repeal was adopted; and a⯑dopted on principles of policy, of equity, and of commerce; this plan made it neceſſary to enter into many and difficult meaſures. It became ne⯑ceſſary to open a very large field of evidence com⯑menſurate to theſe extenſive views. But then this labour did knights ſervice. It opened the eyes of ſeveral to the true ſtate of the American affairs; it enlarged their ideas; it removed prejudices; and it conciliated the opinions and affections of men. The noble lord, who then took the lead in admi⯑niſtration, my hon. friend^f under me, and a right hon. gentleman^g (if he will not reject his ſhare, and it was a large one, of this buſineſs) exerted the moſt laudable induſtry in bringing before you the fulleſt, moſt impartial, and leaſt-garbled body of evidence that ever was produced to this houſe. I think the enquiry laſted in the committee for ſix weeks; and at its concluſion this houſe, by an in⯑dependent, noble, ſpirited, and unexpected majo⯑rity; by a majority that will redeem all the acts ever done by majorities in parliament; in the teeth of all the old mercenary Swiſs of ſtate, in deſpite of all the ſpeculators and augurs of political events, in defiance of the whole embattled legion of veteran penſioners and practiſed inſtruments of a court, [308] gave a total repeal to the ſtamp-act, and (if it had been ſo permitted) a laſting piece to this whole empire.

I STATE, ſir, theſe particulars, becauſe this act of ſpirit and fortitude has lately been, in the circu⯑lation of the ſeaſon, and in ſome hazarded declama⯑tions in this houſe, attributed to timidity. If, ſir, the conduct of miniſtry, in propoſing the repeal, had ariſen from timidity with regard to themſelves, it would have been greatly to be condemned. In⯑tereſted timidity diſgraces as much in the cabinet, as perſonal timidity does in the field. But timidity, with regard to the well-being of our country, is he⯑roic virtue. The noble lord who then conducted affairs, and his worthy colleagues, whilſt they trembled at the proſpect of ſuch diſtreſſes as you have ſince brought upon yourſelves, were not afraid ſteadily to look in the face that glaring and dazzling influence at which the eyes of eagles have blenched. He looked in the face one of the ableſt, and, let me ſay, not the moſt ſcrupulous oppo⯑ſitions, that perhaps ever was in this houſe, and withſtood it, unaided by, even one of, the uſual ſupports of adminiſtration. He did this when he repealed the ſtamp-act. He looked in the face a perſon he had long reſpected and regarded, and whoſe aid was then particularly wanting; I mean lord Chatham. He did this when he paſſed the declaratory act.

IT is now given out, for the uſual purpoſes, by the uſual emiſſaries, that lord Rockingham did not conſent to the repeal of this act until he was bullied into it by lord Chatham; and the reporters have gone ſo far as publicly to aſſert, in an hundred companies, that the hon. gentleman under the gal⯑lery,^f who propoſed the repeal in the American [309] committee, had another ſet of reſolutions in his pocket directly the reverſe of thoſe he moved. Theſe artifices of a deſperate cauſe are, at this time, ſpread abroad, with incredible care, in every part of the town, from the higheſt to the loweſt compa⯑nies; as if the induſtry of the circulation were to make amends for the abſurdity of the report.

SIR, Whether the noble lord is of a complexion to be bullied by lord Chatham, or by any man, I muſt ſubmit to thoſe who know him. I confeſs, when I look back to that time, I conſider him as placed in one of the moſt trying ſituations in which, perhaps, any man ever ſtood. In the houſe of peers there were very few of the miniſtry, out of the no⯑ble lord's own particular connexion, (except lord Egmont, who acted, as far as I could diſcern, an honourable and manly part), that did not look to ſome other future arrangement, which warped his politics. There were in both houſes new and me⯑nacing appearances, that might very naturally drive any other, than a moſt reſolute miniſter, from his meaſure or from his ſtation. The houſehold troops openly revolted. The allies of miniſtry (thoſe, I mean, who ſupported ſome of their meaſures, but refuſed reſponſibility for any) endeavoured to un⯑dermine their credit, and to take ground that muſt be fatal to the ſucceſs of the very cauſe which they would be thought to countenance. The queſtion of the repeal was brought on by miniſtry in the committee of this houſe, in the very inſtant when it was known that more than one court negociation was carrying on with the heads of the oppoſition. Every thing, upon every ſide, was full of traps and mines. Earth below ſhook; heaven above me⯑naced; all the elements of miniſterial ſafety were diſſolved. It was in the midſt of this chaos of plots and counterplots; it was in the midſt of this com⯑plicated [310] warfare againſt public oppoſition and pri⯑vate treachery, that the firmneſs of that noble per⯑ſon was put to the proof. He never ſtirred from his ground; no, not an inch. He remained fixed and determined, in principle, in meaſure, and in con⯑duct. He practiſed no managements. He ſecured no retreat. He ſought no apology.

I WILL likewiſe do juſtice, I ought to do it, to the hon. gentleman who led us in this houſeⁱ. Far from the duplicity wickedly charged on him, he acted his part with alacrity and reſolution. We all felt inſpired by the example he gave us, down even to myſelf, the weakeſt in that phalanx. I declare for one, I knew well enough (it could not be con⯑cealed from any body) the true ſtate of things: but, in my life, I never came with ſo much ſpirits into this houſe. It was a time for a man to act in. We had powerful enemies; but we had faithful and determined friends; and a glorious cauſe. We had a great battle to fight; but we had the means of fighting; not as now, when our arms are tied behind us. We did fight that day and conquer.

I REMEMBER, ſir, with a melancholy pleaſure, the ſituation of the hon. gentlemanⁱ who made the motion for the repeal; in that criſis, when the whole trading intereſt of this empire, crammed into your lobbies, with a trembling and anxious expectation, waited, almoſt to a winter's return of light, their fate from your reſolutions. When, at length, you had determined in their favour, and your doors, thrown open, ſhewed them the figure of their deli⯑verer in the well-earned triumph of his important victory, from the whole of that grave multitude there aroſe an involuntary burſt of gratitude and tranſport. They jumped upon him like children [311] on a long abſent father. They clung about him as captives about their redeemer. All England, all America, joined to his applauſe. Nor did he ſeem inſenſible to the beſt of all earthly rewards, the love and admiration of his fellow-citizens. Hope elevated and joy brightened his creſt. I ſtood near him; and his face, to uſe the expreſſion of the ſcrip⯑ture of the firſt martyr, ‘"his face was as if it had been the face of an angel."’ I do not know how others feel; but if I had ſtood in that ſituation, I ne⯑ver would have exchanged it for all that kings in their profuſion could beſtow. I did hope, that that day's danger and honour would have been a bond to hold us all together for ever. But, alas! that, with other pleaſing viſions, is long ſince vaniſhed.

SIR, this act of ſupreme magnanimity has been repreſented, as if it had been a meaſure of an admi⯑niſtration, that, having no ſcheme of their own, took a middle line, pilfered a bit from one ſide and a bit from the other. Sir, they took no middle lines. They differed fundamentally from the ſchemes of both parties; but they preſerved the ob⯑jects of both. They preſerved the authority of Great Britain. They preſerved the equity of Great Britain. They made the declaratory act; they repealed the ſtamp-act. They did both fully; be⯑cauſe the declaratory act was without qualification; and the repeal of the ſtamp-act total. This they did in the ſituation I have deſcribed.

NOW, ſir, what will the adverſary ſay to both theſe acts? If the principle of the declaratory act was not good, the principle we are contending for this day is monſtrous. If the principle of the repeal was not good, why are we not at war for a real ſub⯑ſtantial effective revenue? If both were bad; why has this miniſtry incurred all the inconveniencies of ^k [312] both and of all ſchemes? Why have they enacted, repealed, enforced, yielded, and now attempt to enforce again?

SIR, I think I may as well now, as at any other time, ſpeak to a certain matter of fact not wholly unrelated to the queſtion under your conſideration. We, who would perſuade you to revert to the an⯑cient policy of this kingdom, labour under the ef⯑fect of this ſhort current phraſe, which the court leaders have given out to all their corps, in order to take away the credit of thoſe who would prevent you from that frantic war you are going to wage upon your Colonies. The cant is this; ‘"All the diſturbances in America have been created by the repeal of the ſtamp-act."’ I ſuppreſs for a moment my indignation at the falſehood, baſeneſs, and abſurdity, of this moſt audacious aſſertion. In⯑ſtead of remarking on the motives and character of thoſe who have iſſued it for circulation, I will clear⯑ly lay before you the ſtate of America, antecedent⯑ly to that repeal; after the repeal; and ſince the renewal of the ſchemes of American taxation.

IT is ſaid, that the diſturbances, if there were any, before the repeal, were ſlight; and without difficulty or inconvenience might have been ſup⯑preſſed. For an anſwer to this aſſertion I will ſend you to the great author and patron of the ſtamp-act, who, certainly meaning well to the authority of this country, and fully apprized of the ſtate of that, made, before a repeal was ſo much as agitated in this houſe, the motion which is on your journals; and which, to ſave the clerk the trouble of turning to it, I will now read to you. It was for an amend⯑ment to the addreſs of the 17th of December 1765:

[313] ‘"TO expreſs our juſt reſentment and indignation at the outrageous tumults and inſurrections which have been excited and carried on in North America; and at the reſiſtance given by open and rebellious force to the execution of the laws in that part of his majeſty's dominions. And to aſſure his majeſty, that his faithful commons, animated with the warmeſt duty and attachment to his royal perſon and govern⯑ment, will firmly and effectually ſupport his majeſty in all ſuch meaſures as ſhall be neceſſary for preſerv⯑ing and ſupporting the legal dependance of the Colonies on the Mother Country, &c. &c."’

HERE was certainly a diſturbance preceding the repeal; ſuch a diſturbance as Mr. Grenville thought neceſſary to qualify by the name of an inſurrection, and the epithet of a rebellious force: terms much ſtronger than any, by which, thoſe who then ſup⯑ported his motion, have ever ſince thought proper to diſtinguiſh the ſubſequent diſturbances in Ameri⯑ca. They were diſturbances which ſeemed to him and his friends to juſtify as ſtrong a promiſe of ſup⯑port, as hath been uſual to give in the beginning of a war with the moſt powerful and declared enemies. When the accounts of the American governors came before the houſe, they appeared ſtronger even than the warmth of public imagination had painted them; ſo much ſtronger, that the papers on your table bear me out in ſaying, that all the late diſturbances, which have been at one time the miniſter's motives for the repeal of five out of ſix of the new court taxes, and are now his pretences for refuſing to repeal that ſixth, did not amount—why do I compare them? no, not to a tenth part of the tumults and violence which prevailed long before the repeal of that act.

MINISTRY cannot refuſe the authority of the commander in chief, general Gage, who, in his let⯑ter [314] of the 4th of November, from New York, thus repreſents the ſtate of things:

‘"IT is difficult to ſay, from the higheſt to the loweſt, who has not been acceſſary to this inſurrec⯑tion, either by writing or mutual agreements to oppoſe the act, by what they are pleaſed to term all legal oppoſition to it. Nothing effectual has been propoſed either to prevent or quell the tumult. The reſt of the provinces are in the ſame ſituation as to a poſitive refuſal to take the ſtamps; and threatning thoſe who ſhall take them, to plunder and murder them; and this affair ſtands in all the provinces, that unleſs the act, from its own nature, enforce it⯑ſelf, nothing but a very conſiderable military force can do it."’

IT is remarkable, ſir, that the perſons who for⯑merly trumpeted forth the moſt loudly, the violent reſolutions of aſſemblies; the univerſal inſurrecti⯑ons; the ſeizing and burning the ſtamped papers; the forcing ſtamp officers to reſign their commiſſions under the gallows; the rifling and pulling down of the houſes of magiſtrates; and the expulſion from their country of all who dared to write or ſpeak a ſingle word in defence of the powers of parliament; theſe very trumpeters are now the men that repre⯑ſent the whole as a mere trifle; and chooſe to date all the diſturbances from the repeal of the ſtamp-act, which put an end to them. Hear your officers abroad, and let them refute this ſhameleſs falſe⯑hood, who, in all their correſpondence, ſtate the diſturbances as owing to their true cauſes, the diſ⯑content of the people, from the taxes. You have this evidence in your own archives—and it will give you compleat ſatisfaction; if you are not ſo far loſt to all parliamentary ideas of information, as rather to credit the lye of the day, than the records of your own houſe.

[315]SIR, this vermin of court reporters, when they are forced into day upon one point, are ſure to bur⯑row in another; but they ſhall have no refuge: I will make them bolt out of all their holes. Con⯑ſcious that they muſt be baffled, when they attri⯑bute a precedent diſturbance to a ſubſequent mea⯑ſure, they take other ground, almoſt as abſurd, but very common in modern practice, and very wick⯑ed; which is, to attribute the ill effect of ill-judged conduct to the arguments which had been uſed to diſſuade us from it. They ſay that the oppoſition made in parliament to the ſtamp-act at the time of its paſſing, encouraged the Americans to their re⯑ſiſtance. This has even formally appeared in print in a regular volume, from an advocate of that faction, a doctor Tucker. This doctor Tucker is already a dean, and his earneſt labours in this vineyard will, I ſuppoſe, raiſe him to a biſhopric. But this aſſer⯑tion too, juſt like the reſt, is falſe. In all the papers which have loaded your table; in all the vaſt crowd of verbal witneſſes that appeared at your bar, wit⯑neſſes which were indiſcriminately produced from both ſides of the houſe; not the leaſt hint of ſuch a cauſe of diſturbance has ever appeared. As to the fact of a ſtrenuous oppoſition to the ſtamp-act, I ſat as a ſtranger in your gallery when the act was un⯑der conſideration. Far from any thing inflamma⯑tory, I never heard a more languid debate in this houſe. No more than two or three gentlemen, as I remember, ſpoke againſt the act, and that with great reſerve and remarkable temper. There was but one diviſion in the whole progreſs of the bill; and the minority did not reach to more than 39 or 40. In the houſe of lords I do not recollect that there was any debate or diviſion at all. I am ſure there was no proteſt. In fact, the affair paſſed with ſo very, very little noiſe, that in town they ſcarcely knew the nature of what you were doing. The [316] oppoſition to the bill in England never could have done this miſchief, becauſe there ſcarcely ever was leſs of oppoſition to a bill of conſequence.

SIR, the agents and diſtributors of falſehoods have, with their uſual induſtry, circulated another lye of the ſame nature with the former. It is this, that the diſturbances aroſe from the account which had been received in America of the change in the miniſtry. No longer awed, it ſeems, with the ſpirit of the former rulers, they thought themſelves a match for what our calumniators chooſe to qua⯑lify by the name of ſo feeble a miniſtry as ſucceed⯑ed. Feeble in one ſenſe theſe men certainly may be called; for, with all their efforts, and they have made many, they have not been able to reſiſt the diſtempered vigour and inſane alacrity with which you are ruſhing to your ruin. But it does ſo hap⯑pen, that the falſity of this circulation is (like the reſt) demonſtrated by indiſputable dates and re⯑cords.

SO little was the change known in America, that the letters of your governors, giving an account of theſe diſturbances long after they had arrived at their higheſt pitch, were all directed to the old mi⯑niſtry, and particularly to the earl of Halifax, the ſecretary of ſtate correſponding with the colonies, without once in the ſmalleſt degree intimating the ſlighteſt ſuſpicion of any miniſterial revolution whatſoever. The miniſtry was not changed in England until the tenth of July 1765. On the 14th of the preceding June, governor Fauquier from Virginia writes thus; and writes thus to the earl of Halifax: ‘"Government is ſet at defiance, not having ſtrength enough in her hands to enforce obedience to the laws of the community.—The pri⯑vate diſtreſs, which every man feels, encreaſes the general diſſatisfaction at the duties laid by the [317] ſtamp-act, which breaks out, and ſhews itſelf upon every trifling occaſion."’ The general diſſatisfac⯑tion had produced ſome time before, that is, on the 29th of May, ſeveral ſtrong public reſolves againſt the ſtamp-act; and thoſe reſolves are aſſigned by governor Bernard, as the cauſe of the inſurrections in Maſſachuſet's Bay, in his letter of the 15th of Auguſt, ſtill addreſſed to the earl of Halifax; and he continued to addreſs ſuch accounts to that mi⯑niſter quite to the 7th of September of the ſame year. Similar accounts, and of as late a date, were ſent from other governors, and all directed to lord Halifax. Not one of theſe letters indicates the ſlighteſt idea of a change, either known, or even apprehended.

THUS are blown away the inſect race of courtly falſehoods! thus periſh the miſerable inventions of the wretched runners for a wretched cauſe, which they have fly-blown into every weak and rotten part of the country, in vain hopes that, when their maggots had taken wing, their importunate buzzing might ſound ſomething like the public voice!

SIR, I have troubled you ſufficiently with the ſtate of America before the repeal. Now I turn to the hon. gentleman who ſo ſtoutly challenges us, to tell, whether, after the repeal, the provinces were quiet? This is coming home to the point. Here I meet him directly; and anſwer moſt rea⯑dily, They were quiet. And I, in my turn, chal⯑lenge him to prove when, and where, and by whom, and in what numbers, and with what vio⯑lence, the other laws of trade, as gentlemen aſ⯑ſert, were violated in conſequence of your conceſ⯑ſion? or that even your other revenue laws were attacked? But I quit the vantage ground on which I ſtand, and where I might leave the burthen of [318] the proof upon him: I walk down upon the open plain, and undertake to ſhew, that they were not only quiet, but ſhewed many unequivocal marks of acknowledgment and gratitude. And to give him every advantage, I ſelect the obnoxious colony of Maſſachuſet's Bay, which at this time (but with⯑out hearing her) is ſo heavily a culprit before par⯑liament—I will ſelect their proceedings even under circumſtances of no ſmall irritation. For, a little imprudently I muſt ſay, governor Bernard mixed in the adminiſtration of the lenitive of the repeal no ſmall acrimony ariſing from matters of a ſeparate nature. Yet ſee, ſir, the effect of that lenitive, though mixed with theſe bitter ingredients; and how theſe rugged people can expreſs themſelves on a meaſure of conceſſion.

‘"If it is not now in our power" (ſay they in their addreſs to governor Bernard) "in ſo full a manner as will be expected, to ſhew our reſpectful gratitude to the mother country, or to make a dutiful and af⯑fectionate return to the indulgence of the king and parliament, it ſhall be no fault of ours; for this we intend, and hope we ſhall be able fully to effect."’

WOULD to God that this temper had been culti⯑vated, managed, and ſet in action! other effect than thoſe which we have ſince felt would have re⯑ſulted from it. On the requiſition for compenſation to thoſe who had ſuffered from the violence of the populace, in the ſame addreſs they ſay, ‘"The re⯑commendation enjoined by Mr. ſecretary Conway's letter, and in conſequence thereof made to us, we will embrace the firſt convenient opportunity to conſi⯑der and act upon."’ They did conſider; they did act upon it. They obeyed the requiſition. I know the mode has been chicaned upon; but it was ſubſtantially obeyed; and much better obeyed, than I fear the parliamentary requiſition of this [319] ſeſſion will be, though enforced by all your rigour, and backed with all your power. In a word, the damages of popular fury were compenſated by le⯑giſlative gravity. Almoſt every other part of Ame⯑rica in various ways demonſtrated their gratitude. I am bold to ſay, that ſo ſudden a calm recovered after ſo violent a ſtorm is without parallel in hiſtory. To ſay that no other diſturbance ſhould happen from any other cauſe, is folly. But, as far as ap⯑pearance went, by the judicious ſacrifice of one law, you procured an acquieſcence in all that re⯑mained. After this experience, nobody ſhall per⯑ſuade me, when an whole people are concerned, that acts of lenity are not means of conciliation.

I HOPE the hon. gentleman has received a fair and full anſwer to his queſtion.

I HAVE done with the third period of your po⯑licy; that of your repeal; and the return of your ancient ſyſtem, and your ancient tranquillity and concord. Sir, this period was not as long as it was happy. Another ſcene was opened, and other actors appeared on the ſtage. The ſtate, in the condition I have deſcribed it, was delivered into the hands of lord Chatham—a great and celebrated name; a name that keeps the name of this country reſpectable in every other on the globe. It may be truly called,

SIR, the venerable age of this great man, his merited rank, his ſuperior eloquence, his ſplendid qualities, his eminent ſervices, the vaſt ſpace he fills in the eye of mankind; and, more than all the reſt, his fall from power, which, like death, ca⯑nonizes and ſanctifies a great character, will not ſuffer me to cenſure any part of his conduct. I am [320] afraid to flatter him; I am ſure I am not diſpoſed to blame him. Let thoſe who have betrayed him by their adulation, inſult him with their malevo⯑lence. But what I do not preſume to cenſure, I may have leave to lament. For a wiſe man, he ſeemed to me, at that time, to be governed too much by general maxims. I ſpeak with the free⯑dom of hiſtory, and I hope without offence. One or two of theſe maxims, flowing from an opinion not the moſt indulgent to our unhappy ſpecies, and ſurely a little too general, led him into mea⯑ſures that were greatly miſchievous to himſelf; and for that reaſon, among others, perhaps fatal to his country; meaſures, the effects of which, I am afraid, are for ever incurable. He made an ad⯑miniſtration, ſo checkered and ſpeckled; he put together a piece of joinery, ſo croſsly indented and whimſically dovetailed; a cabinet ſo variouſly inlaid; ſuch a piece of diverſified Moſaic; ſuch a teſſelated pavement without cement; here a bit of black ſtone, and there a bit of white; patriots and courtiers, kings friends and republicans; whigs and tories; treacherous friends and open enemies: that it was indeed a very curious ſhow; but ut⯑terly unſafe to touch, and unſure to ſtand on. The colleagues whom he had aſſorted at the ſame boards, ſtared at each other, and were obliged to aſk, ‘"Sir, your name?—Sir, you have the advan⯑tage of me—Mr. Such a one—I beg a thouſand pardons—"’ I venture to ſay, it did ſo happen, that perſons had a ſingle office divided between them, who had never ſpoke to each other in their lives; until they found themſelves, they knew not how, pigging together, heads and points, in the ſame truckle-bed.^k

[321]SIR, In conſequence of this arrangement, hav⯑ing put ſo much the larger part of his enemies and oppoſers into power, the confuſion was ſuch, that his own principles could not poſſibly have any effect or influence in the conduct of affairs. If ever he fell into a fit of the gout, or if any other cauſe withdrew him from public cares, principles di⯑rectly the contrary were ſure to predominate. When he had executed his plan, he had not an inch of ground to ſtand upon. When he had accom⯑pliſhed his ſcheme of adminiſtration, he was no lon⯑ger a miniſter.

WHEN his face was hid but for a moment, his whole ſyſtem was on a wide ſea, without chart or compaſs. The gentlemen, his particular friends, who, with the names of various departments of miniſtry, were admitted, to ſeem, as if they acted a part under him, with a modeſty that becomes all men, and with a confidence in him, which was juſtified even in its extravagance by his ſuperior abi⯑lities, had never, in any inſtance, preſumed upon any opinion of their own. Deprived of his guiding influence, they were whirled about, the ſport of every guſt, and eaſily driven into any port; and as thoſe who joined with them in manning the veſſel were the moſt directly oppoſite to his opinions, meaſures, and character, and far the moſt artful and moſt powerful of the ſet, they eaſily prevailed, ſo as to ſeize upon the vacant, unoccupied, and derelict minds of his friends; and inſtantly they turned the veſſel wholly out of the courſe of his po⯑licy. As if it were to inſult as well as to betray him, even long before the cloſe of the firſt ſeſſion of his adminiſtration, when every thing was pub⯑licly tranſacted, and with great parade in his name, they made an act, declaring it highly juſt and ex⯑pedient to raiſe a revenue in America. For even [322] then, ſir, even before this ſplendid orb was entirely ſet, and while the Weſtern horizon was in a blaze with his deſcending glory, on the oppoſite quarter of the heavens aroſe another luminary, and, for his hour, became lord of the aſcendant.

THIS light too is paſſed, and ſet for ever. You underſtand, to be ſure, that I ſpeak of Charles Townſhend, officially the re-producer of this fatal ſcheme; whom I cannot even now remember with⯑out ſome degree of ſenſibility. In truth, ſir, he was the delight and ornament of this houſe, and the charm of every private ſociety which he honoured with his preſence. Perhaps there never aroſe in this country, nor in any country, a man of a more pointed and finiſhed wit; and (where his paſſions were not concerned) of a more refined, exquiſite, and penetrating a judgment. If he had not ſo great a ſtock, as ſome have had who flouriſhed formerly, of knowledge long treaſured up, he knew better by far, than any man I ever was acquainted with, how to bring together within a ſhort time, all that was neceſſary to eſtabliſh, to illuſtrate, and to de⯑corate, that ſide of the queſtion he ſupported. He ſtated his matter ſkilfully and powerfully. He particularly excelled in a moſt luminous explanation, and diſplay of his ſubject. His ſtyle of argument was neither trite and vulgar, nor ſubtile and ab⯑ſtruſe. He hit the houſe juſt between wind and water.—And not being troubled with too anxious a zeal for any matter in queſtion, he was never more tedious, or more earneſt, than the preconceived opinions and preſent temper of his hearers required; to whom he was always in perfect uniſon. He conformed exactly to the temper of the houſe; and he ſeemed to guide, becauſe he was always ſure to follow it.

[323]I BEG pardon, ſir, if, when I ſpeak of this and of other great men, I appear to digreſs in ſaying ſomething of their characters. In this eventful hiſtory of the revolutions of America, the characters of ſuch men are of much importance. Great men are the guide-poſts and land-marks in the ſtate. The credit of ſuch men at court, or in the nation, is the ſole cauſe of all the public meaſures. It would be an invidious thing, (moſt foreign I truſt to what you think my diſpoſition) to remark the errors into which the authority of great names has brought the nation, without doing juſtice at the ſame time to the great qualities, whence that autho⯑rity aroſe. The ſubject is inſtructive to thoſe who wiſh to form themſelves on whatever of excellence has gone before them. There are many young members in the houſe (ſuch of late has been the ra⯑pid ſucceſſion of public men) who never ſaw that prodigy Charles Townſhend; nor of courſe know what a ferment he was able to excite in every thing by the violent ebullition of his mixed virtues and failings. For failings he had undoubtedly—many of us remember them; we are this day conſidering the effect of them. But he had no failings which were not owing to a noble cauſe; to an ardent, generous, perhaps an immoderate paſſion for fame; a paſſion which is the inſtinct of all great ſouls. He worſhipped that goddeſs whereſoever ſhe appeared; but he paid his particular devotions to her in her fa⯑vourite habitation, in her choſen temple, the houſe of commons. Beſides the characters of the individuals that compoſe our body, it is impoſſible, Mr. Speaker, not to obſerve, that this houſe has a col⯑lective character of its own. That character too, however imperfect, is not unamiable. Like all great public collections of men, you poſſeſs a marked love of virtue and an abhorrence of vice. But among vices, there is none, which the houſe abhors [324] in the ſame degree with obſtinacy. Obſtinacy, ſir, is certainly a great vice; and in the changeful ſtate of political affairs it is frequently the cauſe of great miſ⯑chief. It happens, however, very unfortunately, that almoſt the whole line of the great and maſcu⯑line virtues, conſtancy, gravity, magnanimity, for⯑titude, fidelity, and firmneſs, are cloſely allied to this diſagreeable quality, of which you have ſo juſt an abhorrence: and in their exceſs, all theſe virtues very eaſily fall into it. He, who paid ſuch a punctilious attention to all your feelings, certainly took care not to ſhock them by that vice which is the moſt diſguſtful to you.

THAT fear of diſpleaſing thoſe who ought moſt to be pleaſed, betrayed him ſometimes into the other extreme. He had voted, and, in the year 1765, had been an advocate for the ſtamp act. Things and the diſpoſition of mens minds were changed. In ſhort the ſtamp act began to be no favourite in this houſe. He therefore attended at the private meeting, in which the reſolutions moved by a right hon. gentleman were ſettled; reſolutions leading to the repeal. The next day he voted for that repeal; and he would have ſpoken for it too, if an illneſs, (not as was then given out a political) but to my knowledge, a very real illneſs, had not prevented it.

THE very next ſeſſion, as the faſhion of this world paſſeth away, the repeal began to be in as bad an odour in this houſe as the ſtamp act had been in the ſeſſion before. To conform to the temper which began to prevail, and to prevail moſt amongſt thoſe moſt in power, he declared, very early in the winter, that a revenue muſt be had out of America. Inſtantly he was tied down to his en⯑gagements by ſome, who had no objection to ſuch experiments, when made at the coſt of perſons for [325] whom they had no particular regard. The whole body of courtiers drove him onward. They always talked as if the king ſtood in a ſort of humiliated ſtate, until ſomething of the kind ſhould be done.

HERE this extraordinary man, then chancellor of the exchequer, found himſelf in great ſtraits. To pleaſe univerſally, was the object of his life; but to tax and to pleaſe, no more than to love and to be wiſe, is not given to men. However, he attempted it. To render the tax palatable to the partizans of American revenue, he made a preamble ſtating the neceſſity of ſuch a revenue. To cloſe with the American diſtinction, this revenue was external or port-duty; but again, to ſoften it to the other party, it was a duty of ſupply. To gratify the coloniſts, it was laid on Britiſh manufactures; to ſa⯑tisfy the merchants of Britain, the duty was trivial, and (except that on tea, which touched only the devoted Eaſt India company) on none of the grand objects of commerce. To counterwork the Ame⯑rican contraband, the duty on tea was reduced from a ſhilling to three-pence. But to ſecure the favour of thoſe who would tax America, the ſcene of collection was changed, and, with the reſt, it was levied in the colonies. What need I ſay more? This fine-ſpun ſcheme had the uſual fate of all ex⯑quiſite policy. But the original plan of the duties, and the mode of executing that plan, both aroſe ſingly and ſolely from a love of our applauſe. He was truly the child of the houſe. He never thought, did, or ſaid any thing but with a view to you. He every day adapted himſelf to your diſpoſition; and adjuſted himſelf before it, as at a looking-glaſs.

HE had obſerved (indeed it could not eſcape him) that ſeveral perſons, infinitely his inferiors in all reſpects, had formerly rendered themſelves con⯑ſiderable [326] in this houſe by one method alone. They were a race of men (I hope in God the ſpecies is ex⯑tinct) who, when they roſe in their place, no man living could divine, from any known adherence to parties, to opinions, or to principles; from any or⯑der or ſyſtem in their politics; or from any ſequel or connection in their ideas, what part they were going to take in any debate. It is aſtoniſhing how much this uncertainty, eſpecially at critical times, called the attention of all parties on ſuch men. All eyes were fixed on them, all ears open to hear them; each party gaped, and looked alternately for their vote, almoſt to the end of their ſpeeches. While the houſe hung in this uncertainty, now the hear-hims roſe from this ſide, now they re-bellowed from the other; and that party to whom they fell at length from their tremulous and dancing balance, always received them in a tempeſt of applauſe. The fortune of ſuch men was a temptation too great to be reſiſted by one, to whom, a ſingle whiff of incenſe withheld gave much greater pain, than he received delight, in the clouds of it, which daily roſe about him from the prodigal ſuperſtition of in⯑numerable admirers. He was a candidate for con⯑tradictory honours; and his great aim was to make thoſe agree in admiration of him who never agreed in any thing elſe.

HENCE aroſe this unfortunate act, the ſubject of this day's debate; from a diſpoſition which, after making an American revenue to pleaſe one, repeal⯑ed it to pleaſe others, and again revived it in hopes of pleaſing a third, and of catching ſomething in the ideas of all.

THIS revenue act of 1767, formed the fourth period of American policy. How we have fared ſince then—what woeful variety of ſchemes have been adopted; what enforcing, and what repealing; [327] what bullying, and what ſubmitting; what doing, and undoing; what ſtraining, and what relaxing; what aſſemblies diſſolving for not obeying, and called again without obedience; what troops ſent out to quell reſiſtance, and on meeting that reſiſt⯑ance recalled; what ſhiftings, and changes, and jumblings of all kinds of men at home, which left no poſſibility of order, conſiſtency, vigour, or even ſo much as a decent unity of colour in any one public meaſure.—It is a tedious irkſome taſk. My duty may call me to open it out ſome other time; on a former occaſion^l I tried your temper on a part of it; for the preſent I ſhall forbear.

AFTER all theſe changes and agitations, your immediate ſituation upon the queſtion on your paper is at length brought to this. You have an act of parliament, ſtating, that ‘"it is expedient to raiſe a revenue in America."’ By a partial re⯑peal, you annihilated the greateſt part of that reve⯑nue, which this preamble declares to be ſo expe⯑dient. You have ſubſtituted no other in the place of it. A ſecretary of ſtate has diſclaimed, in the king's name, all thoughts of ſuch a ſubſtitution in future. The principle of this diſclaimer goes to what has been left, as well as what has been re⯑pealed. The tax which lingers after its compani⯑ons, (under a preamble declaring an American re⯑venue expedient, and for the ſole purpoſe of ſup⯑porting the theory of that preamble) militates with the aſſurance authentically conveyed to the colo⯑nies; and is an exhauſtleſs ſource of jealouſy and animoſity. On this ſtate, which I take to be a fair one; not being able to diſcern any grounds of ho⯑nour, advantage, peace, or power, for adhering, either to the act or to the preamble, I ſhall vote for the queſtion which leads to the repeal of both.

[328]IF you do not fall in with this motion, then ſecure ſomething to fight for, conſiſtent in theory and va⯑luable in practice. If you muſt employ your ſtrength, employ it to uphold you in ſome honour⯑able right, or ſome profitable wrong. If you are apprehenſive that the conceſſion recommended to you, though proper, ſhould be a means of drawing on you further but unreaſonable claims—why then employ your force in ſupporting that reaſonable conceſſion againſt thoſe unreaſonable demands. You will employ it with more grace; with better effect; and with great probable concurrence of all the quiet and rational people in the provinces; who are now united with, and hurried away by, the violent; having indeed different diſpoſitions, but a common intereſt. If you apprehend that on a con⯑ceſſion you ſhall be puſhed by a metaphyſical pro⯑ceſs to the extreme lines, and argued out of your whole authority, my advice is this; when you have recovered your old, your ſtrong, your tenable po⯑ſition, then face about—ſtop ſhort—do nothing more—reaſon not at all—oppoſe the ancient policy and practice of the empire, as a rampart againſt the ſpeculations of innovators on both ſides of the queſ⯑tion, and you will ſtand on great, manly, and ſure ground. On this ſolid baſis fix your machines, and they will draw worlds towards you.

YOUR miniſters, in their own and his majeſty's name, have already adopted the American diſtinc⯑tion of internal and external duties. It is a diſtinc⯑tion, whatever merit it may have, that was origi⯑nally moved by the Americans themſelves; and I think they will acquieſce in it, if they are not puſh⯑ed with too much logic and too little ſenſe, in all the conſequences. That is, if external taxation be underſtood, as they and you underſtand it when you pleaſe, to be not a diſtinction of geography, [329] but of policy; that it is a power for regulating trade, and not for ſupporting eſtabliſhments. The diſtinction, which is as nothing with regard to right, is of moſt weighty conſideration in practice. Re⯑cover your old ground, and your old tranquillity—try it—I am perſuaded the Americans will com⯑promiſe with you. When confidence is once re⯑ſtored, the odious and ſuſpicious ſummum jus will periſh of courſe. The ſpirit of practicability, of moderation, and mutual convenience, will never call in geometrical exactneſs as the arbitrator of an amicable ſettlement. Conſult and follow your ex⯑perience. Let not the long ſtory with which I have exerciſed your patience, prove fruitleſs to your in⯑tereſts.

FOR my part, I ſhould chooſe (if I could have my wiſh) that the propoſition of the ^m hon. gentleman for the repeal, could go to America without the at⯑tendance of the penal bills. Alone I could almoſt anſwer for its ſucceſs. I cannot be certain of its reception in the bad company it may keep. In ſuch heterogeneous aſſortments, the moſt innocent perſon will loſe the effect of his innocency. Though you ſhould ſend out this angel of peace, yet you are ſending out a deſtroying angel too; and what would be the effect of the conflict of theſe two ad⯑verſe ſpirits, or which would predominate in the end, is what I dare not ſay: whether the lenient meaſures would cauſe American paſſion to ſubſide, or the ſevere would increaſe its fury—All this is in the hand of providence; yet now, even now, I ſhould confide in the prevailing virtue, and effica⯑cious operation of lenity, though working in dark⯑neſs, and in chaos, in the midſt of all this unnatural and turbid combination. I ſhould hope it might produce order and beauty in the end.

[330]LET us, ſir, embrace ſome ſyſtem or other before we end this ſeſſion. Do you mean to tax America, and to draw a productive revenue from thence? if you do, ſpeak out: name, fix, aſcertain this reve⯑nue; ſettle its quantity; define its objects; provide for its collection; and then fight when you have ſomething to fight for. If you murder—rob! If you kill, take poſſeſſion; and do not appear in the character of madmen, as well as aſſaſſins, violent, vindictive, bloody, and tyrannical, without an object. But may better counſels guide you!

AGAIN, and again, revert to your old principles—ſeek peace, and enſue it—leave America, if ſhe has taxable matter in her, to tax herſelf. I am not here going into the diſtinctions of rights, nor at⯑tempting to mark their boundaries. I do not enter into theſe metaphyſical diſtinctions; I hate the very ſound of them. Leave the Americans as they anti⯑ently ſtood; and theſe diſtinctions, born of our un⯑happy conteſt, will die along with it. They, and we, and their and our anceſtors, have been happy under that ſyſtem. Let the memory of all actions, in contradiction to that good old mode, on both ſides, be extinguiſhed for ever. Be content to bind America by laws of trade; you have always done it. Let this be your reaſon for binding their trade. Do not burthen them by taxes; you were not uſed to do ſo from the beginning. Let this be your reaſon for not taxing. Theſe are the arguments of ſtates and kingdoms. Leave the reſt to the ſchools; for there only they may be diſcuſſed with ſafety. But if, intemperately, unwiſely, fatally, you ſophiſ⯑ticate and poiſon the very ſource of government, by urging ſubtle deductions, and conſequences odious to thoſe you govern, from the unlimited and illimitable nature of ſupreme ſovereignty, you will teach them by theſe means to call that ſovereignty [331] itſelf in queſtion. When you drive him hard, the boar will ſurely turn upon the hunters. If that ſo⯑vereignty and their freedom cannot be reconciled, which will they take? They will caſt your ſove⯑reignty in your face. Nobody will be argued into ſlavery. Sir, let the gentlemen on the other ſide call forth all their ability; let the beſt of them get up, and tell me, what one character of liberty the Americans have, and what one brand of ſlavery they are free from, if they are bound in their pro⯑perty and induſtry, by all the reſtraints you can imagine on commerce, and at the ſame time are made pack-horſes of every tax you chooſe to im⯑poſe, without the leaſt ſhare in granting them? When they bear the burthens of unlimited mono⯑poly, will you bring them to bear the burthens of unlimited revenue too? The Engliſhman in Ame⯑rica will feel that this is ſlavery—that it is legal ſla⯑very, will be no compenſation, either to his feelings or his underſtanding.

A NOBLE Lordⁿ, who ſpoke ſome time ago, is full of the fire of ingenuous youth; and when he has modelled the ideas of a lively imagination by further experience, he will be an ornament to his country in either houſe. He has ſaid, that the Americans are our children; and how can they re⯑volt againſt their parent? He ſays, that if they are not free in their preſent ſtate, England is not free; becauſe Mancheſter, and other conſiderable places, are not repreſented. So then, becauſe ſome towns in England are not repreſented, America is to have no repreſentative at all. They are ‘"our children;"’ but when children aſk for bread, we are not to give a ſtone. Is it becauſe the natural reſiſtance of things, and the various mutations of time, hinders our government, or any ſcheme of government, from being any more than a ſort of approximation [332] to the right, is it therefore that the colonies are to recede from it infinitely? When this child of ours wiſhes to aſſimilate to its parent, and to reflect with a true filial reſemblance the beauteous countenance of Britiſh liberty; are we to turn to them the ſhameful parts of our conſtitution? are we to give them our weakneſs for their ſtrength; our oppro⯑brium for their glory; and the ſlough of ſlavery, which we are not able to work off, to ſerve them for their freedom?

IF this be the caſe, aſk yourſelves this queſtion: will they be content in ſuch a ſtate of ſlavery? If not, look to the conſequences. Reflect how you are to govern a people, who think they ought to be free, and think they are not. Your ſcheme yields no revenue; it yields nothing but diſcontent, diſ⯑order, diſobedience; and ſuch is the ſtate of Ame⯑rica, that after wading up to your eyes in blood you could only end juſt where you began; that is, to tax where no revenue is to be found, to—my voice fails me; my inclination indeed carries me no further—all is confuſion beyond it.

WELL, ſir, I have recovered a little, and before I ſit down I muſt ſay ſomething to another point with which gentlemen urge us. What is to be be⯑come of the declaratory act aſſerting the entireneſs of Britiſh legiſlative authority, if we abandon the practice of taxation?

FOR my part I look upon the rights ſtated in that act, exactly in the manner in which I viewed them on its very firſt propoſition, and which I have often taken the liberty, with great humility, to lay before you. I look, I ſay, on the imperial rights of Great Britain, and the privileges which the coloniſts ought to enjoy under theſe rights, to be juſt the moſt reconcilable things in the world. [333] The parliament of Great Britain ſits at the head of her extenſive empire in two capacities; one as the local legiſlature of this iſland, providing for all things at home, immediately, and by no other inſtru⯑ment than the executive power.—The other, and I think her nobler capacity, is what I call her im⯑perial character; in which, as from the throne of heaven, ſhe ſuperintends all the ſeveral inferior legiſlatures, and guides, and controls them all without annihilating any. As all theſe provincial legiſlatures are only co-ordinate to each other, they ought all to be ſubordinate to her; elſe they can neither preſerve mutual peace, nor hope for mu⯑tual juſtice, nor effectually afford mutual aſſiſt⯑ance. It is neceſſary to coerce the negligent, to reſtrain the violent, and to aid the weak and defi⯑cient, by the over-ruling plenitude of her power. She is never to intrude into the place of the others, whilſt they are equal to the common ends of their inſtitution. But, in order to enable parliament to anſwer all theſe ends of provident and beneficent ſuperintendance, her powers muſt be boundleſs. The gentlemen who think the powers of parlia⯑ment limited, may pleaſe themſelves to talk of requiſitions. But ſuppoſe the requiſitions are not obeyed? What! ſhall there be no reſerved power in the empire, to ſupply a deficiency which may weaken, divide, and diſſipate the whole? We are engaged in war—the ſecretary of ſtate calls upon the colonies to contribute—ſome would do it, I think moſt would chearfully furniſh whatever is demanded—one or two, ſuppoſe, hang back, and, eaſing themſelves, let the ſtreſs of the draft lie on the others—ſurely it is proper, that ſome authority might legally ſay— ‘"Tax yourſelves for the com⯑mon ſupply, or parliament will do it for you."’ This backwardneſs was, as I am told, actually the caſe of Pennſylvania for ſome ſhort time towards [334] the beginning of the laſt war, owing to ſome inter⯑nal diſſentions in the colony. But, whether the fact were ſo, or otherwiſe, the caſe is equally to be provided for by a competent ſovereign power. But then this ought to be no ordinary power; nor ever uſed in the firſt inſtance. This is what I meant, when I have ſaid at various times, that I conſider the power of taxing in parliament as an inſtrument of empire, and not as a means of ſupply.

SUCH, ſir, is my idea of the conſtitution of the Britiſh empire, as diſtinguiſhed from the conſtitu⯑tion of Britain; and on theſe grounds I think ſub⯑ordination and liberty may be ſufficiently recon⯑ciled through the whole; whether to ſerve a refin⯑ing ſpeculatiſt, or a factious demagogue, I know not; but enough ſurely for the eaſe and happineſs of man.

SIR, whilſt we held this happy courſe, we drew more from the colonies than all the impotent vio⯑lence of deſpotiſm ever could extort from them. We did this abundantly in the laſt war. It has never been once denied—and what reaſon have we to imagine that the colonies would not have pro⯑ceeded in ſupplying government as liberally, if you had not ſtepped in and hindered them from contributing, by interrupting the channel in which their liberality flowed with ſo ſtrong a courſe; by attempting to take, inſtead of being ſatisfied to receive. Sir William Temple ſays, that Holland has loaded itſelf with ten times the impoſitions which it revolted from Spain rather than ſubmit to. He ſays true. Tyranny is a poor provider. It knows neither how to accumulate, nor how to extract.

I CHARGE therefore to this new and unfortunate ſyſtem the loſs not only of peace, of union, and of [335] commerce, but even of revenue, which its friends are contending for.—It is morally certain, that we have loſt at leaſt a million of free grants ſince the peace. I think we have loſt a great deal more; and that thoſe who look for a revenue from the provinces, never could have purſued, even in that light, a courſe more directly repugnant to their purpoſes.

NOW, ſir, I truſt I have ſhewn, firſt on that narrow ground which the hon. gentleman mea⯑ſured, that you are like to loſe nothing by comply⯑ing with the motion, except what you have loſt already. I have ſhewn afterwards, that in time of peace you flouriſhed in commerce, and when war required it, had ſufficient aid from the colonies, while you purſued your antient policy; that you threw every thing into confuſion when you made the ſtamp-act; and that you reſtored every thing to peace and order when you repealed it. I have ſhewn that the revival of the ſyſtem of taxation has produced the very worſt effects; and that the partial repeal has produced, not partial good, but univerſal evil. Let theſe conſiderations, founded on facts, not one of which can be denied, bring us back to your reaſon by the road of your expe⯑rience.

I CANNOT, as I have ſaid, anſwer for mixed meaſures; but ſurely this mixture of lenity would give the whole a better chance of ſucceſs. When you once regain confidence, the way will be clear before you. Then you may enforce the act of navigation when it ought to be enforced. You will yourſelves open it where it ought ſtill further to be opened. Proceed in what you do, whatever you do, from policy, and not from rancour. Let us act like men, let us act like ſtateſmen. Let us hold ſome ſort of conſiſtent conduct.—It is agreed [336] that the revenue is not to be had in America. If we loſe the profit, let us get rid of the odium.

ON this buſineſs of America I confeſs I am ſeri⯑ous, even to ſadneſs. I have had but one opinion concerning it ſince I ſat, and before I ſat, in par⯑liament. The noble lord^o will, as uſual, proba⯑bly, attribute the part taken by me and my friends in this buſineſs, to a deſire of getting his places. Let him enjoy this happy and original idea. If I deprived him of it, I ſhould take away moſt of his wit, and all his argument. But I had rather bear the brunt of all his wit, and indeed blows much heavier, than ſtand anſwerable to God for embrac⯑ing a ſyſtem that tends to the deſtruction of ſome of the very beſt and faireſt of his works. But I know the map of England, as well as the noble lord,^o or as any other perſon; and I know that the way I take is not the road to preferment. My excellent and honourable friend under me on the floor^p has trod that road with great toil for up⯑wards of twenty years together. He is not yet arrived at the noble lord's deſtination. However, the tracks of my worthy friend are thoſe I have ever wiſhed to follow; becauſe I know they lead to honour. Long may we tread the ſame road together: whoever may accompany us, or who⯑ever may laugh at us on our journey! I honeſtly and ſolemnly declare, I have in all ſeaſons adhered to the ſyſtem of 1766, for no other reaſon, than that I think it laid deep in your trueſt intereſts—and that, by limiting the exerciſe, it fixes on the firmeſt foundations a real, conſiſtent, well-ground⯑ed authority in parliament. Until you come back to that ſyſtem, there will be no peace for England.

SPEECH ON HIS ARRIVAL AT BRISTOL.

I AM come hither to ſolicit in perſon, that fa⯑vour which my friends have hitherto endeavoured to procure for me, by the moſt obliging, and to me the moſt honourable, exertions.

I HAVE ſo high an opinion of the great truſt which you have to confer on this occaſion; and, by long experience, ſo juſt a diffidence in my abilities, to fill it in a manner adequate even to my own ideas, that I ſhould never have ventured of myſelf to intrude into that awful ſituation. But ſince I am called upon by the deſire of ſeveral re⯑ſpectable fellow-ſubjects, as I have done at other times, I give up my fears to their wiſhes. What⯑ever my other deficiencies may be, I do not know what it is to be wanting to my friends.

I AM not fond of attempting to raiſe public ex⯑pectation by great promiſes. At this time, there is much cauſe to conſider, and very little to pre⯑ſume. We ſeem to be approaching to a great criſis in our affairs, which calls for the whole wiſdom of the wiſeſt among us, without being able to aſſure ourſelves, that any wiſdom can preſerve us from many and great inconveniencies. You know I [342] ſpeak of our unhappy conteſt with America. I confeſs, it is a matter on which I look down as from a precipice. It is difficult in itſelf, and it is rendered more intricate by a great variety of plans of conduct. I do not mean to enter into them. I will not ſuſpect a want of good intention in fram⯑ing them. But however pure the intentions of their authors may have been, we all know that the event has been unfortunate. The means of recovering our affairs are not obvious. So many great queſtions of commerce, of finance, of conſtitution, and of policy, are involved in this American deliberation, that I dare engage for nothing, but that I ſhall give it, without any predilection to former opinions, or any ſiniſter bias whatſoever, the moſt honeſt and impartial conſideration of which I am capable. The public has a full right to it; and this great city, a main pillar in the commercial intereſt of Great Britain, muſt totter on its baſe by the ſlighteſt miſ⯑take with regard to our American meaſures.

THUS much, however, I think it not amiſs to lay before you; That I am not, I hope, apt to take up or lay down my opinions lightly. I have held, and ever ſhall maintain, to the beſt of my power, unimpaired and undiminiſhed, the juſt, wiſe, and neceſſary conſtitutional ſuperiority of Great-Britain. This is neceſſary for America, as well as for us. I never mean to depart from it. Whatever may be loſt by it, I avow it. The forfeiture even of your favour, if by ſuch a declaration I could forfeit it, though the firſt object of my ambition never will make me diſguiſe my ſentiments on this ſubject.

BUT—I have ever had a clear opinion, and have ever held a conſtant correſpondent conduct, that this ſuperiority is conſiſtent with all the liber⯑ties a ſober and ſpirited American ought to deſire. I never mean to put any coloniſt, or any human [343] creature, in a ſituation, not becoming a free-man. To reconcile Britiſh ſuperiority with American li⯑berty ſhall be my great object, as far as my little faculties extend. I am far from thinking that both, even yet, may not be preſerved.

WHEN I firſt devoted myſelf to the public ſer⯑vice, I conſidered how I ſhould render myſelf fit for it; and this I did by endeavouring to diſcover what it was, that gave this country the rank it holds in the world. I found that our proſperity and dig⯑nity aroſe principally, if not ſolely, from two ſources; our conſtitution and commerce. Both theſe I have ſpared no ſtudy to underſtand, and no endeavour to ſupport.

THE diſtinguiſhing part of our conſtitution is its liberty. To preſerve that liberty inviolate, ſeems the particular duty and proper truſt of a member of the houſe of commons. But the liberty, the only liberty I mean, is a liberty connected with order; that not only exiſts along with order and virtue, but which cannot exiſt at all without them. It inheres in good and ſteady government, as in its ſubſtance and vital principle.

THE other ſource of our power is commerce, of which you are ſo large a part, and which cannot exiſt, no more than your liberty, without a con⯑nection with many virtues. It has ever been a very particular and a very favourite object of my ſtudy, in its principles, and in its details. I think many here are acquainted with the truth of what I ſay. This I know, that I have ever had my houſe open, and my poor ſervices ready, for traders and manu⯑facturers of every denomination. My favourite ambition is to have thoſe ſervices acknowledged. I now appear before you to make trial, whether my earneſt endeavours have been ſo wholly oppreſſed [344] by the weakneſs of my abilities, as to be rendered inſignificant in the eyes of a great trading city; or whether you chuſe to give a weight to humble abi⯑lities, for the ſake of the honeſt exertions with which they are accompanied. This is my trial to⯑day. My induſtry is not on trial. Of my induſtry I am ſure, as far as my conſtitution of mind and body admitted.

WHEN I was invited by many reſpectable mer⯑chants, freeholders, and freemen of this city, to offer them my ſervices, I had juſt received the ho⯑nour of an election at another place, at a very great diſtance from this. I immediately opened the matter to thoſe of my worthy conſtituents who were with me, and they unanimouſly adviſed me not to decline it. They told me, that they had elected me with a view to the public ſervice; and as great queſtions relative to our commerce and colonies were imminent, that in ſuch matters I might derive authority and ſupport from the repreſentation of this great commercial city; they deſired me therefore to ſet off without delay, very well perſuaded that I never could forget my obligations to them, or to my friends, for the choice they had made of me. From that time to this inſtant I have not ſlept; and if I ſhould have the honour of being freely choſen by you, I hope I ſhall be as far from ſlumbering or ſleeping when your ſervice requires me to be awake, as I have been in coming to offer myſelf a candi⯑date for your favour.

SPEECH FOR A CONCILIATION WITH THE COLONIES.

I HOPE, ſir, that, notwithſtanding the auſterity of the chair, your good-nature will incline you to ſome degree of indulgence towards human frailty. You will not think it unnatural, that thoſe who have an object depending, which ſtrongly engages their hopes and fears, ſhould be ſomewhat inclined to ſuperſtition. As I came into the houſe full of anx⯑iety about the event of my motion, I found to my infinite ſurprize, that the grand penal bill, by which we had paſſed ſentence on the trade and ſuſtenance of America, is to be returned to us from the other houſe^a. I do confeſs, I could not help looking on this event as a fortunate omen. I look upon it as a ſort of providential favour; by which we are put once more in poſſeſſion of our deliberative capacity, upon a buſineſs ſo very queſtionable in its nature, ſo very uncertain in its iſſue. By the return of this bill, which ſeemed to have taken its flight for ever, [360] we are at this very inſtant nearly as free to chuſe a plan for our American government, as we were on the firſt day of the ſeſſion. If, ſir, we incline to the ſide of conciliation, we are not at all embar⯑raſſed (unleſs we pleaſe to make ourſelves ſo) by any incongruous mixture of coercion and reſtraint. We are therefore called upon, as it were by a ſuperior warning voice, again to attend to America; to at⯑tend to the whole of it together; and to review the ſubject with an unuſual degree of care and calm⯑neſs.

SURELY it is an awful ſubject; or there is none ſo on this ſide of the grave. When I firſt had the honour of a ſeat in this houſe, the affairs of that con⯑tinent preſſed themſelves upon us, as the moſt im⯑portant and moſt delicate object of parliamentary attention. My little ſhare in this great deliberation oppreſſed me. I found myſelf a partaker in a very high truſt; and having no ſort of reaſon to rely on the ſtrength of my natural abilities for the proper execution of that truſt, I was obliged to take more than common pains, to inſtruct myſelf in every thing which relates to our colonies. I was not leſs under the neceſſity of forming ſome fixed ideas, concerning the general policy of the Britiſh Empire. Something of this ſort ſeemed to be indiſpenſable; in order, amidſt ſo vaſt a fluctuation of paſſions and opinions, to concenter my thoughts; to ballaſt my conduct; to preſerve me from being blown about by every wind of faſhionable doctrine. I really did not think it ſafe, or manly, to have freſh principles to ſeek upon every freſh mail which ſhould arive from America.

AT that period, I had the fortune to find myſelf in perfect concurrence with a large majority in this houſe. Bowing under that high authority, and penetrated with the ſharpneſs and ſtrength of that [361] early impreſſion, I have continued ever ſince, with⯑out the leaſt deviation, in my original ſentiments. Whether this be owing to an obſtinate perſeverance in error, or to a religious adherence to what ap⯑pears to me truth and reaſon, it is in your equity to judge.

SIR, parliament having an enlarged view of ob⯑jects, made, during this interval, more frequent changes in their ſentiments and their conduct, than could be juſtified in a particular perſon upon the contracted ſcale of private information. But though I do not hazard any thing approaching to a cenſure on the motives of former parliaments to all thoſe al⯑terations, one fact is undoubted; that under them the ſtate of America has been kept in continual agi⯑tation. Every thing adminiſtered as remedy to the public complaint, if it did not produce, was at leaſt followed by, an heightening of the diſtemper; until, by a variety of experiments, that important country has been brought into her preſent ſituation;—a ſituation, which I will not miſcall, which I dare not name; which I ſcarcely know how to comprehend in the terms of any deſcription.

IN this poſture, ſir, things ſtood at the beginning of the ſeſſion. About that time a worthy member^b of great parliamentary experience, who in the year 1766, filled the chair of the American committee with much ability, took me aſide; and, lamenting the preſent aſpect of our politics, told me, things were come to ſuch a paſs, that our former methods of proceeding in the houſe would be no longer to⯑lerated. That the public tribunal (never too indul⯑gent to a long and unſucceſsful oppoſition) would now ſcrutinize our conduct with unuſual ſeverity. That the very viciſſitudes and ſhiftings of miniſ⯑terial [362] meaſures, inſtead of convicting their authors of inconſtancy and want of ſyſtem, would be taken as an occaſion of charging us with a predetermined diſcontent, which nothing could ſatisfy; whilſt we accuſed every meaſure of vigour as cruel, and every propoſal of lenity as weak and irreſolute. The pub⯑lic, he ſaid, would not have patience to ſee us play the game out with our adverſaries: we muſt pro⯑duce our hand. It would be expected, that thoſe who for many years had been active in ſuch affairs ſhould ſhew, that they had formed ſome clear and decided idea of the principles of colony government; and were capable of drawing out ſomething like a platform of the ground, which might be laid for future and permanent tranquillity.

I FELT the truth of what my hon. friend repre⯑ſented: but I felt my ſituation too. His application might have been made with far greater propriety to many other gentlemen. No man was indeed ever better diſpoſed, or worſe qualified, for ſuch an undertaking than myſelf. Though I gave ſo far into his opinion, that I immediately threw my thoughts into a ſort of parliamentary form, I was by no means equally ready to produce them. It ge⯑nerally argues ſome degree of natural impotence of mind, or ſome want of knowledge of the world, to hazard plans of government, except from a ſeat of authority. Propoſitions are made, not only ineffectually, but ſomewhat diſreputably, when the minds of men are not properly diſpoſed for their reception; and for my part, I am not am⯑bitious of ridicule; not abſolutely a candidate for diſgrace.

BESIDES, ſir, to ſpeak the plain truth, I have in general no very exalted opinion of the virtue of pa⯑per government; nor of any politics, in which the plan is to be wholly ſeparated from the execution. [363] But when I ſaw, that anger and violence prevailed every day more and more; and that things were haſtening towards an incurable alienation of our colonies; I confeſs, my caution gave way. I felt this, as one of thoſe few moments in which deco⯑rum yields to an higher duty. Public calamity is a mighty leveller; and there are occaſions when any, even the ſlighteſt, chance of doing good, muſt be laid hold on, even by the moſt inconſider⯑able perſon.

TO reſtore order and repoſe to an empire ſo great and ſo diſtracted as ours, is, merely in the attempt, an undertaking that would ennoble the flights of the higheſt genius, and obtain pardon for the efforts of the meaneſt underſtanding. Strug⯑gling a good while with theſe thoughts, by degrees I felt myſelf more firm. I derived, at length, ſome confidence from what in other circumſtances uſually produces timidity. I grew leſs anxious, even from the idea of my own inſignificance. For, judging of what you are, by what you ought to be, I perſuaded myſelf, that you would not reject a reaſonable propoſition, becauſe it had nothing but its reaſon to recommend it. On the other hand, being totally deſtitute of all ſhadow of influence, natural or adventitious, I was very ſure, that, if my propoſition were futile or dangerous; if it were weakly conceived, or improperly timed, there was nothing exterior to it, of power to awe, dazzle, or delude you. You will ſee it juſt as it is; and you will treat it juſt as it deſerves.

THE propoſition is peace. Not peace through the medium of war; not peace to be hunted through the labyrinth of intricate and endleſs ne⯑gociations; not peace to ariſe out of univerſal diſ⯑cord, fomented, from principle, in all parts of the empire; not peace to depend on the juridical de⯑termination [364] of perplexing queſtions; or the preciſe marking the ſhadowy boundaries of a complex go⯑vernment. It is ſimple peace; ſought in its natu⯑ral courſe, and its ordinary haunts.—It is peace ſought in the ſpirit of peace; and laid in principles purely pacific. I propoſe, by removing the ground of the difference, and by reſtoring the former un⯑ſuſpecting confidence of the colonies in the mother coun⯑try, to give permanent ſatisfaction to your people; and (far from a ſcheme of ruling by diſcord) to re⯑concile them to each other in the ſame act, and by the bond of the very ſame intereſt, which recon⯑ciles them to Britiſh government.

MY idea is nothing more. Refined policy ever has been the parent of confuſion; and ever will be ſo, as long as the world endures. Plain good intention, which is as eaſily diſcovered at the firſt view, as fraud is ſurely detected at laſt, is, let me ſay, of no mean force in the government of man⯑kind. Genuine ſimplicity of heart is an healing and cementing principle. My plan, therefore, be⯑ing formed upon the moſt ſimple grounds imagin⯑able, may diſappoint ſome people, when they hear it. It has nothing to recommend it to the pru⯑riency of curious ears. There is nothing at all new and captivating in it. It has nothing of the ſplendour of the project, which has been lately laid upon your table by the noble lord in the blue ribband.^c It does not propoſe to fill your lobby [365] with ſquabbling colony agents, who will require the interpoſition of your mace, at every inſtant, to keep the peace amongſt them. It does not in⯑ſtitute a magnificent auction of finance, where captivated provinces come to general ranſom by bidding againſt each other, until you knock down the hammer, and determine a proportion of pay⯑ments, beyond all the powers of algebra to equa⯑lize and ſettle.

THE plan, which I ſhall preſume to ſuggeſt, derives, however, one great advantage from the propoſition and regiſtry of that noble lord's project. The idea of conciliation is admiſſible. Firſt, the houſe, in accepting the reſolution moved by the noble lord, has admitted, notwithſtanding the me⯑nacing front of our addreſs, notwithſtanding our heavy bill of pains and penalties—that we do not think ourſelves precluded from all ideas of free grace and bounty.

THE houſe has gone farther; it has declared conciliation admiſſible, previous to any ſubmiſſion on the part of America. It has even ſhot a good deal beyond that mark, and has admitted, that the complaints of our former mode of exerting the right of taxation were not wholly unfounded. That right thus exerted is allowed to have had ſomething reprehenſible in it; ſomething unwiſe, or ſomething [366] grievous: ſince, in the midſt of our heat and re⯑ſentment, we, of ourſelves, have propoſed a capital alteration; and, in order to get rid of what ſeemed ſo very exceptionable, have inſtituted a mode that is altogether new; one that is, indeed, wholly alien from all the ancient methods and forms of parliament.

THE principle of this proceeding is large enough for my purpoſe. The means propoſed by the noble lord for carrying his ideas into execution, I think indeed, are very indifferently ſuited to the end; and this I ſhall endeavour to ſhew you before I ſit down. But, for the preſent, I take my ground on the admitted principle. I mean to give peace. Peace implies reconciliation; and where there has been a material diſpute, reconciliation does in a manner always imply conceſſion on the one part or on the other. In this ſtate of things I make no difficulty in affirming, that the propoſal ought to originate from us. Great and acknowledged force is not impaired, either in effect or in opinion, by an unwillingneſs to exert itſelf. The ſuperior power may offer peace with honour and with ſafety. Such an offer from ſuch a power will be attributed to magnanimity. But the conceſſions of the weak are the conceſſions of fear. When ſuch a one is diſ⯑armed, he is wholly at the mercy of his ſuperior; and he loſes for ever that time and thoſe chances, which, as they happen to all men, are the ſtrength and reſources of all inferior power.

THE capital leading queſtions on which you muſt this day decide, are theſe two. Firſt, whe⯑ther you ought to concede; and ſecondly, what your conceſſion ought to be. On the firſt of theſe queſtions we have gained (as I have juſt taken the liberty of obſerving to you) ſome ground. But I am ſenſible that a good deal more is ſtill to be [367] done. Indeed, ſir, to enable us to determine both on the one and the other of theſe great queſtions with a firm and preciſe judgment, I think it may be neceſſary to conſider diſtinctly the true nature and the peculiar circumſtances of the object which we have before us. Becauſe after all our ſtruggle, whether we will or not, we muſt govern America, according to that nature, and to thoſe circumſtan⯑ces; and not according to our own imaginations; not according to abſtract ideas of right; by no means according to mere general theories of go⯑vernment, the reſort to which appears to me, in our preſent ſituation, no better than arrant trifling. I ſhall therefore endeavour, with your leave, to lay before you ſome of the moſt material of theſe cir⯑cumſtances in as full and as clear a manner as I am able to ſtate them.

THE firſt thing that we have to conſider with regard to the nature of the object is—the number of people in the colonies. I have taken for ſome years a good deal of pains on that point. I can by no calculation juſtify myſelf in placing the number below two millions of inhabitants of our own European blood and colour; beſides at leaſt 500.000 others, who form no inconſiderable part of the ſtrength and opulence of the whole. This, ſir, is, I believe, about the true number. There is no occaſion to exaggerate, where plain truth is of ſo much weight and importance. But whether I put the preſent numbers too high or too low, is a matter of little moment. Such is the ſtrength with which population ſhoots in that part of the world, that ſtate the numbers as high as we will, whilſt the diſpute continues, the exaggeration ends. Whilſt we are diſcuſſing any given magnitude, they are grown to it. Whilſt we ſpend our time in deliberating on the mode of governing two mil⯑lions, [368] we ſhall find we have millions more to ma⯑nage. Your children do not grow faſter from infancy to manhood, than they ſpread from fami⯑lies to communities, and from villages to nations.

I PUT this conſideration of the preſent and the growing numbers in the front of our deliberation; becauſe, ſir, this conſideration will make it evident to a blunter diſcernment than yours, that no par⯑tial, narrow, contracted, pinched, occaſional ſyſ⯑tem will be at all ſuitable to ſuch an object. It will ſhew you, that it is not to be conſidered as one of thoſe minima which are out of the eye and conſi⯑deration of the law; not a paltry excreſcence of the ſtate; not a mean dependant, who may be neglected with little damage, and provoked with little danger. It will prove, that ſome degree of care and caution is required in the handling ſuch an object; it will ſhew, that you ought not, in reaſon, to trifle with ſo large a maſs of the inte⯑reſts and feelings of the human race. You could at no time do ſo without guilt; and be aſſured you will not be able to do it long with impunity.

BUT the population of this country, the great and growing population, though a very important conſideration, will loſe much of its weight, if not combined with other circumſtances. The com⯑merce of your colonies is out of all proportion be⯑yond the numbers of the people. This ground of their commerce indeed has been trod ſome days ago, and with great ability, by a diſtinguiſhed ^d perſon, at your bar. This gentleman, after thirty-five years—it is ſo long ſince he firſt appeared at the ſame place to plead for the commerce of Great Britain—has come again before you to plead the ſame cauſe, without any other effect of time, than, that to the fire of imagination and extent of [369] erudition, which even then marked him as one of the firſt literary characters of his age, he has added a conſummate knowledge in the commercial inte⯑reſt of his country, formed by a long courſe of en⯑lightened and diſcriminating experience.

SIR, I ſhould be inexcuſable in coming after ſuch a perſon with any detail; if a great part of the members who now fill the houſe had not the misfortune to be abſent, when he appeared at your bar. Beſides, ſir, I propoſe to take the matter at periods of time ſomewhat different from his. There is, if I miſtake not, a point of view, from whence if you will look at this ſubject, it is impoſſible that it ſhould not make an impreſſion upon you.

I HAVE in my hand two accounts; one a com⯑parative ſtate of the export trade of England to its colonies, as it ſtood in the year 1704, and as it ſtood in the year 1772. The other a ſtate of the export trade of this country to its colonies alone, as it ſtood in 1772, compared with the whole trade of England to all parts of the world (the colonies included) in the year 1704. They are from good vouchers; the latter period from the accounts on your table, the earlier from an original manuſcript of Davenant, who firſt eſtabliſhed the inſpector general's office, which has been ever ſince his time ſo abundant a ſource of parliamentary informa⯑tion.

THE export trade to the colonies conſiſts of three great branches. The African, which, ter⯑minating almoſt wholly in the colonies, muſt be put to the account of their commerce; the Weſt Indian; and the North American. All theſe are ſo interwoven, that the attempt to ſeparate them, would tear to pieces the contexture of the whole; and if not entirely deſtroy, would very much de⯑preciate [370] the value of all the parts. I therefore conſider theſe three denominations to be, what in effect they are, one trade.

THE trade to the colonies, taken on the export ſide, at the beginning of this century, that is, in the year 1704, ſtood thus:

In the year 1772, which I take as a middle year between the higheſt and loweſt of thoſe lately laid on your table, the account was as follows:

FROM five hundred and odd thouſand, it has grown to ſix millions. It has increaſed no leſs than twelve-fold. This is the ſtate of the colony trade, as compared with itſelf at theſe two periods, within this century;—and this is matter for medi⯑tation. But this is not all. Examine my ſecond account. See how the export trade to the colonies alone in 1772 ſtood in the other point of view, that is, as compared to the whole trade of England in 1704.

THE trade with America alone is now within leſs than 500.000l. of being equal to what this great commercial nation, England, carried on at the beginning of this century with the whole world! If I had taken the largeſt year of thoſe on your table, it would rather have exceeded. But, it will be ſaid, is not this American trade an unna⯑tural protuberance, that has drawn the juices from the reſt of the body? The reverſe. It is the very food that has nouriſhed every other part into its preſent magnitude. Our general trade has been greatly augmented; and augmented more or leſs in almoſt every part to which it ever extended; but with this material difference; that of the ſix mil⯑lions which in the beginning of the century con⯑ſtituted the whole maſs of our export commerce, the colony trade was but one twelfth part; it is now (as a part of ſixteen millions) conſiderably more than a third of the whole. This is the relative proportion of the importance of the colonies at theſe two periods: and all reaſoning concerning our mode of treating them muſt have this propor⯑tion as its baſis; or it is a reaſoning weak, rotten, and ſophiſtical.

MR. SPEAKER, I cannot prevail on myſelf to hurry over this great conſideration. It is good for us to be here. We ſtand where we have an im⯑menſe view of what is, and what is paſt. Clouds indeed, and darkneſs, reſt upon the future. Let us however, before we deſcend from this noble [172] eminence, reflect that this growth of our national proſperity has happened within the ſhort period of the life of man. It has happened within ſixty-eight years. There are thoſe alive whoſe memory might touch the two extremities. For inſtance, my lord Bathurſt might remember all the ſtages of the pro⯑greſs. He was in 1704 of an age, at leaſt to be made to comprehend ſuch things. He was then old enough acta parentum jam legere, et quae ſit pote⯑rit cognoſcere virtus—Suppoſe, ſir, that the angel of this auſpicious youth, foreſeeing the many virtues, which made him one of the moſt amiable, as he is one of the moſt fortunate men of his age, had opened to him in viſion, that, when, in the fourth generation, the third prince of the houſe of Brunſwick had ſat twelve years on the throne of that nation, which (by the happy iſſue of moderate and healing coun⯑cils) was to be made Great Britain, he ſhould ſee his ſon, lord chancellor of England, turn back the current of hereditary dignity to its fountain, and raiſe him to an higher rank of peerage, whilſt he enriched the family with a new one—If amidſt theſe bright and happy ſcenes of domeſtic honour and proſperity, that angel ſhould have drawn up the curtain, and unfolded the riſing glories of his country, and whilſt he was gazing with admiration on the then commercial grandeur of England, the genius ſhould point out to him a little ſpeck, ſcarce viſible in the maſs of the national intereſt, a ſmall ſeminal principle, rather than a formed body, and ſhould tell him— ‘"Young man, There is America—which at this day ſerves for little more than to amuſe you with ſtories of ſavage men, and un⯑couth manners; yet ſhall, before you taſte of death, ſhew itſelf equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world. Whatever England has been growing [373] to by a progreſſive increaſe of improvement, brought in by varieties of people, by ſucceſſion of civilizing conqueſts and civilizing ſettlements in a ſeries of ſeventeen hundred years, you ſhall ſee as much added to her by America in the courſe of a ſingle life!"’ If this ſtate of his country had been foretold to him, would it not require all the ſanguine credulity of youth, and all the fervid glow of enthuſiaſm, to make him believe it? For⯑tunate man, he has lived to ſee it! Fortunate indeed, if he lives to ſee nothing that ſhall vary the proſpect, and cloud the ſetting of his day!

EXCUSE me, ſir, if turning from ſuch thoughts I reſume this comparative view once more. You have ſeen it on a large ſcale; look at it on a ſmall one. I will point out to your attention a particular inſtance of it in the ſingle province of Penſylvania. In the year 1704 that province called for 11.459l. in value of your commo⯑dities, native and foreign. This was the whole. What did it demand in 1772? Why nearly fifty times as much; for in that year the export to Penſylvania was 507.909l. nearly equal to the export to all the colonies together in the firſt period.

I CHOOSE, ſir, to enter into theſe minute and particular details; becauſe generalities, which in all other caſes are apt to heighten and raiſe the ſub⯑ject, have here a tendency to ſink it. When we ſpeak of the commerce with our colonies, fiction lags after truth; invention is unfruitful, and ima⯑gination cold and barren.

So far, ſir, as to the importance of the object in the view of its commerce, as concerned in the ex⯑ports from England. If I were to detail the im⯑ports, I could ſhew how many enjoyments they [374] procure, which deceive the burthen of life; how many materials which invigorate the ſprings of na⯑tional induſtry, and extend and animate every part of our foreign and domeſtic commerce. This would be a curious ſubject indeed—but I muſt pre⯑ſcribe bounds to myſelf in a matter ſo vaſt and va⯑rious.

I PASS therefore to the colonies in another point of view, their agriculture. This they have pro⯑ſecuted with ſuch a ſpirit, that, beſides feeding plentifully their own growing multitude, their an⯑nual export of grain, comprehending rice, has ſome years ago exceeded a million in value. Of their laſt harveſt, I am perſuaded, they will export much more. At the beginning of the century, ſome of theſe colonies imported corn from the mo⯑ther country. For ſome time paſt, the old world has been fed from the new. The ſcarcity which you have felt would have been a deſolating famine; if this child of your old age, with a true filial piety, with a Roman charity, had not put the full breaſt of its youthful exuberance to the mouth of its exhauſted parent.

AS to the wealth which the colonies have drawn from the ſea by their fiſheries, you had all that matter fully opened at your bar. You ſurely thought thoſe acquiſitions of value; for they ſeemed even to excite your envy; and yet the ſpirit, by which that enterprizing employment has been ex⯑erciſed, ought rather, in my opinion, to have raiſed your eſteem and admiration. And pray, ſir, what in the world is equal to it? Paſs by the other parts, and look at the manner in which the people of New England have of late carried on the whale fiſhery. Whilſt we follow them among the jumbling mountains of ice, and behold them pene⯑trating into the deepeſt frozen receſſes of Hudſon's [375] Bay, and Davis's Streights, whilſt we are looking for them beneath the Arctic circle, we hear that they have pierced into the oppoſite region of polar cold, that they are at the Antipodes, and engaged under the frozen ſerpent of the ſouth. Falkland Iſland, which ſeemed too remote and romantic an object for the graſp of national ambition, is but a ſtage and reſting-place in the progreſs of their vic⯑torious induſtry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more diſcouraging to them, than the accumulated winter of both the poles. We know that whilſt ſome of them draw the line and ſtrike the harpoon on the coaſt of Africa, others run the longitude, and pur⯑ſue their gigantic game along the coaſt of Bra⯑zil. No ſea but what is vexed by their fiſheries. No climate that is not witneſs to their toils. Nei⯑ther the perſeverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the dextrous and firm ſagacity of Engliſh enterprize, ever carried this moſt perilous mode of hardy induſtry to the extent to which it has been puſhed by this recent people; a people who are ſtill, as it were, but in the griſtle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood. When I contemplate theſe things; when I know that the colonies in general owe little or nothing to any care of ours, and that they are not ſqueezed into this happy form by the conſtraints of watchful and ſuſ⯑picious government, but that through a wiſe and ſalutary neglect, a generous nature has been ſuffered to take her own way to perfection: when I reflect upon theſe effects, when I ſee how profitable they have been to us, I feel all the pride of power ſink, and all preſumption in the wiſdom of human con⯑trivances melt, and die away within me. My rigour relents. I pardon ſomething to the ſpirit of li⯑berty.

I AM ſenſible, ſir, that all which I have aſſerted in my detail, is admitted in the groſs; but that [376] quite a different concluſion is drawn from it. Ame⯑rica, gentlemen ſay, is a noble object. It is an object well worth fighting for. Certainly it is, if fighting a people be the beſt way of gaining them. Gentlemen in this reſpect will be led to their choice of means by their complexions and their habits. Thoſe who underſtand the military art, will of courſe have ſome predilection for it. Thoſe who wield the thunder of the ſtate, may have more confidence in the efficacy of arms. But I confeſs, poſſibly for want of this knowledge, my opinion is much more in favour of prudent management, than of force; conſidering force not as an odious, but a feeble inſtrument, for preſerving a people ſo nu⯑merous, ſo active, ſo growing, ſo ſpirited as this, in a profitable and ſubordinate connexion with us.

FIRST, ſir, permit me to obſerve, that the uſe of force alone is but temporary. It may ſubdue for a moment; but it does not remove the neceſſity of ſubduing again: and a nation is not governed, which is perpetually to be conquered.

MY next objection is its uncertainty. Terror is not always the effect of force; and an armament is not a victory. If you do not ſucceed, you are without reſource; for, conciliation failing, force re⯑mains; but, force failing, no further hope of recon⯑ciliation is reſt. Power and authority are ſome⯑times bought by kindneſs; but they can never be begged as alms, by an impoveriſhed and de⯑feated violence.

A FURTHER objection to force is, that you im⯑pair the object by your very endeavours to preſerve it. The thing you fought for, is not the thing which you recover; but depreciated, ſunk, waſted, and conſumed in the conteſt. Nothing leſs will content me, than whole America. I do not chooſe [377] to conſume its ſtrength along with our own; be⯑cauſe in all parts it is the Britiſh ſtrength that I con⯑ſume. I do not chooſe to be caught by a foreign enemy at the end of this exhauſting conflict; and ſtill leſs in the midſt of it. I may eſcape; but I can make no inſurance againſt ſuch an event. Let me add, that I do not chooſe wholly to break the American ſpirit, becauſe it is the ſpirit that has made the country.

LASTLY, we have no ſort of experience in fa⯑vour of force as an inſtrument in the rule of our colonies. Their growth and their utility has been owing to methods altogether different. Our an⯑cient indulgence has been ſaid to be purſued to a fault. It may be ſo. But we know, if feeling is evidence, that our fault was more tolerable than our attempt to mend it; and our ſin far more ſalutary than our penitence.

THESE, ſir, are my reaſons for not entertaining that high opinion of untried force, by which many gentlemen, for whoſe ſentiments in other particu⯑lars I have great reſpect, ſeem to be ſo greatly capti⯑vated. But there is ſtill behind a third conſideration concerning this object, which ſerves to determine my opinion on the ſort of policy which ought to be purſued in the management of America, even more than its population and its commerce, I mean its temper and character.

IN this character of the Americans, a love of free⯑dom is the predominating feature, which marks and diſtinguiſhes the whole: and as an ardent is always a jealous affection, your colonies become ſuſ⯑picious, reſtive, and untractable, whenever they ſee the leaſt attempt to wreſt from them by force, or ſhuffle from them by chicane, what they think the only advantage worth living for. This fierce ſpirit [378] of liberty is ſtronger in the Engliſh colonies proba⯑bly than in any other people of the earth; and this from a great variety of powerful cauſes; which, to underſtand the true temper of their minds, and the direction which this ſpirit takes, it will not be amiſs to lay open ſomewhat more largely.

FIRST, the people of the colonies are deſcend⯑ents of Engliſhmen. England, ſir, is a nation, which ſtill I hope reſpects, and formerly adored, her freedom. The coloniſts emigrated from you, when this part of your character was moſt predomi⯑nant; and they took this biaſs and direction the moment they parted from your hands. They are therefore not only devoted to liberty, but to liberty according to Engliſh ideas, and on Engliſh princi⯑ples. Abſtract liberty, like other mere abſtracti⯑ons, is not to be found. Liberty inheres in ſome ſenſible object; and every nation has formed to it⯑ſelf ſome favourite point, which by way of eminence becomes the criterion of their happineſs. It hap⯑pened, you know, ſir, that the great conteſts for freedom in this country were from the earlieſt times chiefly upon the queſtion of taxing. Moſt of the conteſts in the ancient commonwealths turned primarily on the right of election of magiſtrates; or on the balance among the ſeveral orders of the ſtate. The queſtion of money was not with them ſo immediate. But in England it was otherwiſe. On this point of taxes the ableſt pens, and moſt eloquent tongues have been exerciſed; the greateſt ſpirits have acted and ſuffered. In order to give the fulleſt ſatisfaction concerning the importance of this point, it was not only neceſſary for thoſe who in argument defended the excellence of the Engliſh conſtitution, to inſiſt on this privilege of granting money as a dry point of fact, and to prove, that the right had been acknowledged in ancient parch⯑ments, [379] and blind uſages, to reſide in a certain body called an houſe of commons. They went much further; they attempted to prove, and they ſuc⯑ceeded, that in theory it ought to be ſo, from the particular nature of a houſe of commons, as an im⯑mediate repreſentative of the people; whether the old records had delivered this oracle or not. They took infinite pains to inculcate, as a fundamental principle, that, in all monarchies, the people muſt in effect themſelves mediately or immediately poſſeſs the power of granting their own money, or no ſha⯑dow of liberty could ſubſiſt. The colonies draw from you as with their life-blood, theſe ideas and principles. Their love of liberty, as with you, fixed and attached on this ſpecific point of taxing. Liberty might be ſafe, or might be endangered in twenty other particulars, without their being much pleaſed or alarmed. Here they felt its pulſe; and as they found that beat, they thought themſelves ſick or ſound. I do not ſay whether they were right or wrong in applying your general arguments to their own caſe. It is not eaſy indeed to make a monopoly of theorems and corollaries. The fact is, that they did thus apply thoſe general arguments; and your mode of governing them, whether through lenity or indolence, through wiſdom or miſtake, confirmed them in the imagination, that they, as well as you, had an intereſt in theſe common prin⯑ciples.

THEY were further confirmed in this pleaſing er⯑ror by the form of their provincial legiſlative aſſem⯑blies. Their governments are popular in an high degree; ſome are merely popular; in all, the po⯑pular repreſentative is the moſt weighty; and this ſhare of the people in their ordinary government never fails to inſpire them with lofty ſentiments, and with a ſtrong averſion from whatever tends to deprive them of their chief importance.

[380]IF any thing were wanting to this neceſſary ope⯑ration of the form of government, religion would have given it a complete effect. Religion, always a principle of energy, in this new people, is no way worn out or impaired; and their mode of profeſſing it is alſo one main cauſe of this free ſpirit. The people are proteſtants; and of that kind, which is the moſt adverſe to all implicit ſubmiſſion of mind and opinion. This is a perſuaſion not only favour⯑able to liberty, but built upon it. I do not think, ſir, that the reaſon of this averſeneſs in the diſſent⯑ing churches from all that looks like abſolute go⯑vernment is ſo much to be ſought in their religious tenets, as in their hiſtory. Every one knows, that the Roman Catholic religion is at leaſt coeval with moſt of the governments where it prevails; that it has generally gone hand in hand with them; and received great favour and every kind of ſupport from authority. The church of England too was formed from her cradle under the nurſing care of regular government. But the diſſenting intereſts have ſprung up in direct oppoſition to all the ordi⯑nary powers of the world; and could juſtify that oppoſition only on a ſtrong claim to natural liberty. Their very exiſtence depended on the powerful and unremitted aſſertion of that claim. All proteſ⯑tantiſm, even the moſt cold and paſſive, is a ſort of diſſent. But the religion moſt prevalent in our northern colonies is a refinement on the principle of reſiſtance; it is the diſſidence of diſſent; and the proteſtantiſm of the proteſtant religion. This reli⯑gion, under a variety of denominations, agreeing in nothing but in the communion of the ſpirit of liberty, is predominant in moſt of the northern pro⯑vinces; where the church of England, notwith⯑ſtanding its legal rights, is in reality no more than a ſort of private ſect, not compoſing moſt probably the tenth of the people. The coloniſts left England [381] when this ſpirit was high; and in the emigrants was the higheſt of all: and even that ſtream of fo⯑reigners, which has been conſtantly flowing into theſe colonies, has, for the greateſt part, been compoſed of diſſenters from the eſtabliſhments of their ſeveral countries, and have brought with them a temper and character far from alien to that of the people with whom they mixed.

SIR, I can perceive by their manner, that ſome gentlemen object to the latitude of this deſcription; becauſe in the ſouthern colonies the church of Eng⯑land forms a large body, and has a regular eſta⯑bliſhment. It is certainly true. There is however a circumſtance attending theſe colonies, which in my opinion, fully counterbalances this difference, and makes the ſpirit of liberty ſtill more high and haughty than in thoſe to the northward. It is that in Virginia and the Carolinas, they have a vaſt mul⯑titude of ſlaves. Where this is the caſe in any part of the world, thoſe who are free, are by far the moſt proud and jealous of their freedom. Freedom is to them not only an enjoyment, but a kind of rank and privilege. Not ſeeing there, that free⯑dom, as in countries where it is a common bleſſing, and as broad and general as the air, may be united with much abject toil, with great miſery, with all the exterior of ſervitude, liberty looks amongſt them, like ſomething that is more noble and liberal. I do not mean, ſir, to commend the ſuperior mora⯑lity of this ſentiment, which has at leaſt as much pride as virtue in it; but I cannot alter the nature of man. The fact is ſo; and theſe people of the ſouthern colonies are much more ſtrongly, and with an higher and more ſtubborn ſpirit, attached to liberty than thoſe to the northward. Such were all the ancient commonwealths; ſuch were our Gothic anceſtors; ſuch in our days were the Poles; [382] and ſuch will be all maſters of ſlaves, who are not ſlaves themſelves. In ſuch a people the haughtineſs of domination combines with the ſpirit of freedom, fortifies it, and renders it invincible.

PERMIT me, ſir, to add another circumſtance in our colonies, which contributes no mean part to⯑wards the growth and effect of this untractable ſpirit. I mean their education. In no country perhaps in the world is the law ſo general a ſtudy The profeſſion itſelf is numerous and powerful; and in moſt provinces it takes the lead. The greater number of the deputies ſent to the congreſs were lawyers. But all who read, and moſt do read, en⯑deavour to obtain ſome ſmattering in that ſcience. I have been told by an eminent bookſeller, that in no branch of his buſineſs, after tracts of popular de⯑votion, were ſo many books as thoſe on the law ex⯑ported to the plantations. The coloniſts have now fallen into the way of printing them for their own uſe. I hear that they have ſold nearly as many of Blackſtone's Commentaries in America as in Eng⯑land. General Gage marks out this diſpoſition ve⯑ry particularly in a letter on your table. He ſtates, that all the people in his government are lawyers, or ſmatterers in law; and that in Boſton they have been enabled, by ſucceſsful chicane, wholly to evade many parts of one of your capital penal con⯑ſtitutions. The ſmartneſs of debate will ſay, that this knowledge ought to teach them more clearly the rights of legiſlature, their obligations to obedi⯑ence, and the penalties of rebellion. All this is mighty well. But my ^c honourable and learned friend on the floor, who condeſcends to mark what I ſay for animadverſion, will diſdain that ground. He has heard as well as I, that when great honours and great emoluments do not win over this know⯑ledge [383] to the ſervice of the ſtate, it is a formidable adverſary to government. If the ſpirit be not tam⯑ed and broken by theſe happy methods, it is ſtub⯑born and litigious. Abeunt ſtudia in mores. This ſtudy renders men acute, inquiſitive, dextrous, prompt in attack, ready in defence, full of re⯑ſources. In other countries, the people, more ſim⯑ple and of a leſs mercurial caſt, judge of an ill prin⯑ciple in government only by an actual grievance; here they anticipate the evil, and judge of the preſ⯑ſure of the grievance by the badneſs of the princi⯑ple. They augur miſgovernment at a diſtance; and ſnuff the approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze.

THE laſt cauſe of this diſobedient ſpirit in the co⯑lonies is hardly leſs powerful than the reſt, as it is not merely moral, but laid deep in the natural con⯑ſtitution of things. Three thouſand miles of ocean lie between you and them. No contrivance can prevent the effect of this diſtance, in weakening government. Seas roll, and months paſs, between the order and the execution; and the want of a ſpeedy explanation of a ſingle point is enough to defeat an whole ſyſtem. You have, indeed, wing⯑ed miniſters of vengeance, who carry your bolts in their pounces to the remoteſt verge of the ſea. But there a power ſteps in, that limits the arrogance of raging paſſions and furious elements, and ſays, "So far ſhalt thou go, and no farther." Who are you, that ſhould fret and rage, and bite the chains of nature?—Nothing worſe happens to you, than does to all nations, who have extenſive empire; and it happens in all the forms into which empire can be thrown. In large bodies, the circulation of power muſt be leſs vigorous at the extremities. Nature has ſaid it. The turk cannot govern Aegypt, and Arabia, and Curdiſtan, as he governs [384] Thrace; nor has he the ſame dominion in Crimea and Algiers, which he has at Bruſa and Smyrna. Deſpotiſm itſelf is obliged to truck and huckſter. The ſultan gets ſuch obedience as he can. He governs with a looſe rein, that he may govern at all; and the whole of the force and vigour of his autho⯑rity in his centre, is derived from a prudent relaxa⯑tion in all his borders. Spain, in her provinces, is, perhaps, not ſo well obeyed, as you are in yours. She complies too; ſhe ſubmits; ſhe watches times. This is the immutable condition; the eternal law, of extenſive and detached empire.

THEN, ſir, from theſe ſix capital ſources; of deſcent; of form of government; of religion in the northern provinces; of manners in the ſouthern; of education; of the remoteneſs of ſituation from the firſt mover of government; from all theſe cauſes a fierce ſpirit of liberty has grown up. It has grown with the growth of the people in your colo⯑nies, and increaſed with the increaſe of their wealth; a ſpirit, that unhappily meeting with an exerciſe of power in England, which, however lawful, is not reconcilable to any ideas of liberty, much leſs with theirs, has kindled this flame, that is ready to conſume us.

I DO not mean to commend either the ſpirit in this exceſs, or the moral cauſes which produce it. Perhaps a more ſmooth and accommodating ſpirit of freedom in them would be more acceptable to us. Perhaps ideas of liberty might be deſired, more reconcilable with an arbitrary and boundleſs authority. Perhaps we might wiſh the coloniſts to be perſuaded, that their liberty is more ſecure when held in truſt for them by us (as their guardians dur⯑ing a perpetual minority) than with any part of it in their own hands. But the queſtion is, not whe⯑ther their ſpirit deſerves praiſe or blame;—what, in [385] the name of God, ſhall we do with it? You have before you the object; ſuch as it is, with all its glories, with all its imperfections on its head. You ſee the magnitude; the importance; the temper; the habits; the diſorders. By all theſe conſiderations, we are ſtrongly urged to determine ſomething concerning it. We are call⯑ed upon to fix ſome rule and line for our future conduct, which may give a little ſtability to our politics, and prevent the return of ſuch unhap⯑py deliberations as the preſent. Every ſuch return will bring the matter before us in a ſtill more un⯑tractable form. For, what aſtoniſhing and incre⯑dible things have we not ſeen already? What mon⯑ſters have not been generated from this unnatural contention? Whilſt every principle of authority and reſiſtance has been puſhed, upon both ſides, as far as it would go, there is nothing ſo ſolid and cer⯑tain, either in reaſoning or in practice, that has been not ſhaken. Until very lately, all authority in America ſeemed to be nothing but an emanation from yours. Even the popular part of the colony conſtitution derived all its activity, and its firſt vi⯑tal movement, from the pleaſure of the crown. We thought, ſir, that the utmoſt which the diſcon⯑tented coloniſts could do, was to diſturb authority; we never dreamt they could of themſelves ſupply it; knowing in general what an operoſe buſineſs it is, to eſtabliſh a government abſolutely new. But having, for our purpoſes in this contention, re⯑ſolved, that none but an obedient aſſembly ſhould ſit, the humours of the people there, finding all paſſage through the legal channel ſtopped, with great violence broke out another way. Some pro⯑vinces have tried their experiment, as we have tried ours; and theirs has ſucceeded. They have formed a government ſufficient for its purpoſes, without the buſtle of a revolution, or the troubleſome formality of an election. Evident neceſſity, and tacit con⯑ſent, [386] have done the buſineſs in an inſtant. So well they have done it, that lord Dunmore (the account is among the fragments on your table) tells you, that the new inſtitution is infinitely better obeyed than the antient government ever was in its moſt fortunate period. Obedience is what makes go⯑vernment, and not the names by which it is called; not the name of governor, as formerly, or commit⯑tee, as at preſent. This new government has ori⯑ginated directly from the people; and was not tranſmitted through any of the ordinary artificial media of a poſitive conſtitution. It was not a ma⯑nufacture ready formed, and tranſmitted to them in that condition from England. The evil ariſing from hence is this; that the coloniſts having once found the poſſibility of enjoying the advantages of order, in the midſt of a ſtruggle for liberty, ſuch ſtruggles will not henceforward ſeem ſo terrible to the ſettled and ſober part of mankind, as they had appeared before the trial.

PURSUING the ſame plan of puniſhing by the denial of the exerciſe of government to ſtill greater lengths, we wholly abrogated the antient govern⯑ment of Maſſachuſet. We were confident, that the firſt feeling, if not the very proſpect of anarchy, would inſtantly enforce a compleat ſubmiſſion. The experiment was tried. A new, ſtrange, unex⯑pected face of things appeared. Anarchy is found tolerable. A vaſt province has now ſubſiſted, and ſubſiſted in a conſiderable degree of health and vi⯑gour, for near a twelvemonth, without governor, without public council, without judges, without ex⯑ecutive magiſtrates. How long it will continue in this ſtate, or what may ariſe out of this unheard-of ſituation, how can the wiſeſt of us conjecture? Our late experience has taught us, that many of thoſe fundamental principles, formerly believed in⯑fallible, [387] are either not of the importance they were imagined to be; or that we have not at all ad⯑verted to ſome other far more important, and far more powerful principles, which entirely over-rule thoſe we had conſidered as omnipotent. I am much againſt any further experiments, which tend to put to the proof any more of theſe allowed opi⯑nions, which contribute ſo much to the public tran⯑quillity. In effect, we ſuffer as much at home, by this looſening of all ties, and this concuſſion of all eſtabliſhed opinions, as we do abroad. For, in order to prove, that the Americans have no right to their liberties, we are every day endeavouring to ſubvert the maxims, which preſerve the whole ſpirit of our own. To prove that the Americans ought not to be free, we are obliged to depreciate the value of freedom itſelf; and we never ſeem to gain a paltry advantage over them in debate, with⯑out attacking ſome of thoſe principles, or deriding ſome of thoſe feelings, for which our anceſtors have ſhed their blood.

BUT, ſir, in wiſhing to put an end to pernicious experiments, I do not mean to preclude the fulleſt enquiry. Far from it. Far from deciding on a ſudden or partial view, I would patiently go round and round the ſubject, and ſurvey it minutely in every poſſible aſpect. Sir, if I were capable of en⯑gaging you to an equal attention, I would ſtate, that, as far as I am capable of diſcerning, there are but three ways of proceeding relative to this ſtub⯑born ſpirit, which prevails in your colonies, and di⯑ſturbs your government. Theſe are—To change that ſpirit, as inconvenient, by removing the cauſes. To proſecute it as criminal. Or, to comply with it as neceſſary. I would not be guilty of an imper⯑fect enumeration; I can think of but theſe three. Another has indeed been ſtarted, that of giving up [388] the colonies; but it met ſo ſlight a reception, that I do not think myſelf obliged to dwell a great while upon it. It is nothing but a little ſally of anger; like the frowardneſs of peeviſh children; who, when they cannot get all they would have, are reſolved to take nothing.

THE firſt of theſe plans, to change the ſpirit as inconvenient, by removing the cauſes, I think is the moſt like a ſyſtematic proceeding. It is radical in its principle; but it is attended with great dif⯑ficulties, ſome of them little ſhort, as I conceive, of impoſſibilities. This will appear by examining into the plans which have been propoſed.

AS the growing population in the colonies is evidently one cauſe of their reſiſtance, it was laſt ſeſſion mentioned in both houſes, by men of weight, and received not without applauſe, that, in order to check this evil, it would be proper for the crown to make no further grants of land. But to this ſcheme, there are two objections. The firſt, that there is already ſo much unſettled land in private hands, as to afford room for an immenſe future population, although the crown not only withheld its grants, but annihilated its ſoil. If this be the caſe, then the only effect of this avarice of deſolation, this hoarding of a royal wilderneſs, would be to raiſe the value of the poſſeſſions in the hands of the great private monopoliſts, without any adequate check to the growing and alarming miſchief of popu⯑lation.

BUT, if you ſtopped your grants, what would be the conſequence? The people would occupy without grants. They have already ſo occupied in many places. You cannot ſtation garriſons in every part of theſe deſerts. If you drive the people from one place, they will carry on their annual [389] tillage, and remove with their flocks and herds to another. Many of the people in the back ſettle⯑ments are already little attached to particular ſitua⯑tions. Already they have topped the Apalachian mountains. From thence they behold before them an immenſe plain, one vaſt, rich, level meadow; a ſquare of five hundred miles. Over this they would wander, without a poſſibility of reſtraint; they would change their manners with the habits of their life; would ſoon forget a government, by which they were diſowned; would become Hordes of Engliſh Tartars; and, pouring down upon your unfortified frontiers a fierce and irreſiſtible cavalry, become maſters of your governors and your coun⯑ſellors, your collectors and comptrollers, and of all the ſlaves that adhered to them. Such would, and, in no long time, muſt be, the effect of at⯑tempting to forbid as a crime, and to ſuppreſs as an evil, the command and bleſſing of Providence, ‘"encreaſe and multiply."’ Such would be the happy reſult of an endeavour to keep as a lair of wild beaſts, that earth, which God by an expreſs charter, has given to the children of men. Far dif⯑ferent, and ſurely much wiſer, has been our policy hitherto. Hitherto we have invited our people by every kind of bounty, to fixed eſtabliſhments. We have invited the huſbandman, to look to authority for his title. We have taught him piouſly to believe in the myſterious virtue of wax and parchment. We have thrown each tract of land, as it was peo⯑pled, into diſtricts; that the ruling power ſhould never be wholly out of ſight. We have ſettled all we could; and we have carefully attended every ſettlement with government.

ADHERING, ſir, as I do, to this policy, as well as for the reaſons I have juſt given, I think this new [390] project of hedging-in population to be neither pru⯑dent nor practicable.

TO impoveriſh the colonies in general, and in particular to arreſt the noble courſe of their marine enterprizes, would be a more eaſy taſk. I freely confeſs it. We have ſhewn a diſpoſition to a ſyſtem of this kind; a diſpoſition even to continue the re⯑ſtraint after the offence; looking on ourſelves as ri⯑vals to our colonies, and perſuaded that of courſe we muſt gain all that they ſhall loſe. Much miſ⯑chief we may certainly do. The power inadequate to all other things is often more than ſufficient for this. I do not look on the direct and immediate power of the colonies to reſiſt our violence, as very formidable. In this, however, I may be miſtaken. But when I conſider, that we have colonies for no purpoſe but to be ſerviceable to us, it ſeems to my poor underſtanding a little prepoſterous, to make them unſerviceable, in order to keep them obedient. It is, in truth, nothing more than the old, and, as I thought, exploded problem of tyranny which pro⯑poſes to beggar its ſubjects into ſubmiſſion. But, remember, when you have compleated your ſyſtem of impoveriſhment, that nature ſtill proceeds in her ordinary courſe; that diſcontent will encreaſe with miſery; and that there are critical moments in the fortune of all ſtates, when they, who are too weak to contribute to your proſperity, may be ſtrong enough to complete your ruin. Spoliatis arma ſuperſunt.

THE temper and character which prevail in our colonies, are, I am afraid, unalterable by any human art. We cannot, I fear, falſify the pedigree of this fierce people, and perſuade them that they are not ſprung from a nation, in whoſe veins the blood of freedom circulates. The language in which they [391] would hear you tell them this tale, would detect the impoſition; your ſpeech would betray you. An Engliſhman is the unfitteſt perſon on earth to argue another Engliſhman into ſlavery.

I THINK it is nearly as little in our power to change their republican religion, as their free deſcent; or to ſubſtitute the Roman Catholic, as a penalty; or the church of England, as an improve⯑ment. The mode of inquiſition and dragooning, is going out of faſhion in the old world; and I ſhould not confide much to their efficacy in the new. The education of the Americans is alſo on the ſame unalterable bottom with their religion. You can⯑not perſuade them to burn their books of curious ſcience; to baniſh their lawyers from their courts of law; or to quench the lights of their aſſemblies, by refuſing to chooſe thoſe perſons who are beſt read in their privileges. It would be no leſs impracti⯑cable to think of wholly annihilating the popular aſ⯑ſemblies, in which theſe lawyers ſit. The army, by which we muſt govern in their place, would be far more chargeable to us; not quite ſo effectual; and perhaps, in the end, full as difficult to be kept in obe⯑dience.

WITH regard to the high ariſtocratic ſpirit of Virginia and the ſouthern colonies, it has been propoſed, I know, to reduce it, by declaring a general enfranchiſement of their ſlaves. This pro⯑ject has had its advocates and panegyriſts; yet I never could argue myſelf into any opinion of it. Slaves are often much attached to their maſters. A general wild offer of liberty, would not always be accepted. Hiſtory furniſhes few inſtances of it. It is ſometimes as hard to perſuade ſlaves to be free, as it is to compel freemen to be ſlaves; and in this auſpicious ſcheme, we ſhould have both theſe pleaſing taſks on our hands at once. But when we [392] talk of enfranchiſement, do we not perceive that the American maſter may enfranchiſe too; and arm ſervile hands in defence of freedom? A meaſure to which other people have had recourſe more than once, and not without ſucceſs, in a deſperate ſitua⯑tion of their affairs.

SLAVES as theſe unfortunate black people are, and dull as all men are from ſlavery, muſt they not a little ſuſpect the offer of freedom from that very nation which has ſold them to their preſent maſters? From that nation, one of whoſe cauſes of quarrel with thoſe maſters, is their refuſal to deal any more in that inhuman traffic? An offer of freedom from England, would come rather oddly, ſhipped to them in an African veſſel, which is refuſed an entry into the ports of Virginia or Ca⯑rolina, with a cargo of three hundred Angola ne⯑groes. It would be curious to ſee the Guinea cap⯑tain attempting at the ſame inſtant to publiſh his proclamation of liberty, and to advertiſe his ſale of ſlaves.

BUT let us ſuppoſe all theſe moral difficulties got over. The ocean remains. You cannot pump this dry; and as long as it continues in its preſent bed, ſo long all the cauſes which weaken authority by diſtance will continue. ‘"Ye gods, annihilate but ſpace and time, and make two lovers hap⯑py!"’ —was a pious and paſſionate prayer;—but juſt as reaſonable, as many of the ſerious wiſhes of very grave and ſolemn politicians.

IF then, ſir, it ſeems almoſt deſperate to think of any alterative courſe, for changing the moral cauſes (and not quite eaſy to remove the natural), which produce prejudices irreconcilable to the late exer⯑ciſe of our authority; but that the ſpirit infallibly will continue; and, continuing, will produce ſuch [393] effects, as now embarraſs us; the ſecond mode un⯑der conſideration is, to proſecute that ſpirit in its overt acts, as criminal.

AT this propoſition, I muſt pauſe a moment. The thing ſeems a great deal too big for my ideas of juriſprudence. It ſhould ſeem, to my way of conceiving ſuch matters, that there is a very wide difference in reaſon and policy, between the mode of proceeding on the irregular conduct of ſcattered individuals, or even of bands of men, who diſturb order within the ſtate, and the civil diſſenſions which may, from time to time, on great queſtions, agitate the ſeveral communities which compoſe a great empire. It looks to me to be narrow and pe⯑dantic, to apply the ordinary ideas of criminal juſtice to this great public conteſt. I do not know the method of drawing up an indictment againſt an whole people. I cannot inſult and ridicule the feelings of millions of my fellow-creatures, as ſir Edward Coke inſulted one excellent individual (Sir Walter Rawleigh) at the bar. I am not ripe to paſs ſentence on the graveſt public bodies, entruſt⯑ed with magiſtracies of great authority and dignity, and charged with the ſafety of their fellow-citizens, upon the very ſame title that I am. I really think, that for wiſe men, this is not judicious; for ſober men, not decent; for minds tinctured with huma⯑nity, not mild and merciful.

PERHAPS, ſir, I am miſtaken in my idea of an empire, as diſtinguiſhed from a ſingle ſtate or kingdom. But my idea of it is this; that an em⯑pire is the aggregate of many ſtates, under one common head; whether this head be a monarch, or a preſiding republic. It does, in ſuch conſtitu⯑tions, frequently happen (and nothing but the diſ⯑mal, cold, dead uniformity of ſervitude can pre⯑vent its happening) that the ſubordinate parts have [394] many local privileges and immunities. Between theſe privileges, and the ſupreme common autho⯑rity, the line may be extremely nice. Of courſe diſputes, often too, very bitter diſputes, and much ill blood, will ariſe. But though every privilege is an exemption (in the caſe) from the ordinary ex⯑erciſe of the ſupreme authority, it is no denial of it. The claim of a privilege ſeems rather, ex vi termini, to imply a ſuperior power. For to talk of the pri⯑vileges of a ſtate or of a perſon, who has no ſu⯑perior, is hardly any better than ſpeaking non⯑ſenſe. Now, in ſuch unfortunate quarrels, among the component parts of a great political union of communities, I can ſcarcely conceive any thing more compleatly imprudent, than for the head of the empire to inſiſt, that, if any privilege is pleaded againſt his will, or his acts, that his whole authority is denied; inſtantly to proclaim rebellion, to beat to arms, and to put the offending provinces under the ban. Will not this, ſir, very ſoon teach the provinces to make no diſtinctions on their part? Will it not teach them that the government, againſt which a claim of liberty is tantamont to high-trea⯑ſon, is a government to which ſubmiſſion is equi⯑valent to ſlavery? It may not always be quite convenient to impreſs dependent communities with ſuch an idea.

WE are, indeed, in all diſputes with the colo⯑nies, by the neceſſity of things, the judge. It is true, ſir. But, I confeſs, that the character of judge in my own cauſe, is a thing that frightens me. Inſtead of filling me with pride, I am ex⯑ceedingly humbled by it. I cannot proceed with a ſtern, aſſured, judicial confidence, until I find myſelf in ſomething more like a judicial character. I muſt have theſe heſitations as long as I am com⯑pelled to recollect, that, in my little reading upon [395] ſuch conteſts as theſe, the ſenſe of mankind has, at leaſt, as often decided againſt the ſuperior as the ſubordinate power. Sir, let me add too, that the opinion of my having ſome abſtract right in my favour, would not put me much at my eaſe in paſſing ſentence; unleſs I could be ſure, that there were no rights which, in their exerciſe under cer⯑tain circumſtances, were not the moſt odious of all wrongs, and the moſt vexatious of all injuſtice. Sir, theſe conſiderations have great weight with me, when I find things ſo circumſtanced; that I ſee the ſame party, at once a civil litigant againſt me in a point of right; and a culprit before me, while I ſit as a criminal judge, on acts of his, whoſe moral quality is to be decided upon the merits of that very litigation. Men are every now and then put, by the complexity of human affairs, into ſtrange ſituations; but juſtice is the ſame, let the judge be in what ſituation he will.

THERE is, ſir, alſo a circumſtance which con⯑vinces me, that this mode of criminal proceeding is not (at leaſt in the preſent ſtage of our conteſt) altogether expedient; which is nothing leſs than the conduct of thoſe very perſons who have ſeemed to adopt that mode, by lately declaring a rebellion in Maſſachuſet's Bay, as they had formerly addreſſ⯑ed to have traitors brought hither under an act of Henry the eighth, for trial. For though rebellion is declared, it is not proceeded againſt as ſuch; nor have any ſteps been taken towards the appre⯑henſion or conviction of any individual offender, either on our late or our former addreſs; but modes of public coercion have been adopted, and ſuch as have much more reſemblance to a ſort of qualified hoſtility towards an independant power than the pu⯑niſhment of rebellious ſubjects. All this ſeems ra⯑ther [396] inconſiſtent; but it ſhews how difficult it is to apply theſe juridical ideas to our preſent caſe.

IN this ſituation, let us ſeriouſly and coolly pon⯑der. What is it we have got by all our menaces, which have been many and ferocious? What ad⯑vantage have we derived from the penal laws we have paſſed, and which, for the time, have been ſevere and numerous? What advances have we made towards our object, by the ſending of a force, which, by land and ſea, is no contemptible ſtrength? Has the diſorder abated? Nothing leſs.—When I ſee things in this ſituation, after ſuch confi⯑dent hopes, bold promiſes, and active exertions, I cannot, for my life, avoid a ſuſpicion, that the plan itſelf is not correctly right.

IF then the removal of the cauſes of this ſpirit of American liberty be, for the greater part, or rather entirely, impracticable; if the ideas of cri⯑minal proceſs be inapplicable, or, if applicable, are in the higheſt degree inexpedient, what way yet remains? No way is open, but the third and laſt—to comply with the American ſpirit as ne⯑ceſſary; or, if you pleaſe, to ſubmit to it, as a ne⯑ceſſary evil.

IF we adopt this mode; if we mean to conci⯑liate and concede; let us ſee of what nature the conceſſion ought to be? To aſcertain the nature of our conceſſion, we muſt look at their complaint. The colonies complain, that they have not the characteriſtic mark and ſeal of Britiſh freedom. They complain, that they are taxed in a parlia⯑ment, in which they are not repreſented. If you mean to ſatisfy them at all, you muſt ſatisfy them with regard to this complaint. If you mean to pleaſe any people, you muſt give them the boon which they aſk; not what you may think better [397] for them, but of a kind totally different. Such an act may be a wiſe regulation, but it is no con⯑ceſſion: whereas our preſent theme is the mode of giving ſatisfaction.

SIR, I think you muſt perceive, that I am re⯑ſolved this day to have nothing at all to do with the queſtion of the right of taxation. Some gen⯑tlemen ſtartle—but it is true: I put it totally out of the queſtion. It is leſs than nothing in my con⯑ſideration. I do not indeed wonder, nor will you, ſir, that gentlemen of profound learning are fond of diſplaying it on this profound ſubject. But my conſideration is narrow, confined, and wholly li⯑mited to the policy of the queſtion. I do not exa⯑mine, whether the giving away a man's money be a power excepted and reſerved out of the general truſt of government; and how far all mankind, in all forms of polity, are intitled to an exerciſe of that right by the charter of nature. Or whether, on the contrary, a right of taxation is neceſſarily involved in the general principle of legiſlation, and inſeparable from the ordinary ſupreme power? Theſe are deep queſtions, where great names mili⯑tate againſt each other; where reaſon is perplexed; and an appeal to authorities only thickens the con⯑fuſion. For high and reverend authorities lift up their heads on both ſides; and there is no ſure footing in the middle. This point is the great Serbonian bog, betwixt Damiata and mount Caſius old, where armies whole have ſunk. I do not intend to be overwhelmed in that bog, though in ſuch re⯑ſpectable company. The queſtion with me is, not whether you have a right to render your people miſerable; but whether it is not your intereſt to make them happy? It is not, what a lawyer tells me, I may do; but what humanity, reaſon, and juſtice, tell me, I ought to do. Is a politic act [398] the worſe for being a generous one? Is no conceſ⯑ſion proper, but that which is made from your want of right to keep what you grant? Or does it leſſen the grace or dignity of relaxing in the exer⯑ciſe of an odious claim, becauſe you have your evidence-room full of titles, and your magazines ſtuffed with arms to enforce them? What ſignify all thoſe titles, and all thoſe arms? Of what avail are they, when the reaſon of the thing tells me, that the aſſertion of my title is the loſs of my ſuit; and that I could do nothing but wound myſelf by the uſe of my own weapons?

SUCH is ſtedfaſtly my opinion of the abſolute neceſſity of keeping up the concord of this empire by a unity of ſpirit, though in a diverſity of ope⯑rations, that, if I were ſure the coloniſts had, at their leaving this country, ſealed a regular compact of ſervitude; that they had ſolemnly abjured all the rights of citizens; that they had made a vow to renounce all ideas of liberty for them and their poſterity, to all generations; yet I ſhould hold myſelf obliged to conform to the temper I found univerſally prevalent in my own day, and to go⯑vern two million of me [...], impatient of ſervitude, on the principles of freedom. I am not determin⯑ing a point of law; I am reſtoring tranquillity; and the general character and ſituation of a people muſt determine what ſort of government is fitted for them. That point nothing elſe can or ought to determine.

MY idea therefore, without conſidering whether we yield as matter of right, or grant as matter of favour, is to admit the people of our colonies into an in⯑tereſt in the conſtitution; and, by recording that ad⯑miſſion in the journals of parliament, to give them as ſtrong an aſſurance as the nature of the thing [399] will admit, that we mean for ever to adhere to that ſolemn declaration of ſyſtematic indulgence.

SOME years ago, the repeal of a revenue act, upon its underſtood principle, might have ſerved to ſhew, that we intended an unconditional abate⯑ment of the exerciſe of a taxing power. Such a meaſure was then ſufficient to remove all ſuſpicion; and to give perfect content. But unfortunate events, ſince that time, may make ſomething fur⯑ther neceſſary; and not more neceſſary for the ſa⯑tisfaction of the colonies, than for the dignity and conſiſtency of our own future proceedings.

I HAVE taken a very incorrect meaſure of the diſpoſition of the houſe, if this propoſal in itſelf would be received with diſlike. I think, ſir, we have few American financiers. But our misfortune is, we are too acute; we are too exquiſite in our conjectures of the future, for men oppreſſed with ſuch great and preſent evils. The more moderate among the oppoſers of parliamentary conceſſion freely confeſs, that they hope no good from taxa⯑tion; but they apprehend the coloniſts have further views; and if this point were conceded, they would inſtantly attack the trade-laws. Theſe gen⯑tlemen are convinced, that this was the intention from the beginning; and the quarrel of the Ame⯑ricans with taxation was no more than a cloke and cover to this deſign. Such has been the language even of a ^f gentleman of real moderation, and of a natural temper well adjuſted to fair and equal government. I am, however, ſir, not a little ſur⯑prized at this kind of diſcourſe, whenever I hear it; and I am the more ſurprized, on account of the arguments which I conſtantly find in company [400] with it, and which are often urged from the ſame mouths, and on the ſame day.

FOR inſtance, when we allege, that it is againſt reaſon to tax a people under ſo many reſtraints in trade as the Americans, the ^g noble lord in the blue ribband ſhall tell you, that the reſtraints on trade are futile and uſeleſs; of no advantage to us, and of no burthen to thoſe on whom they are impoſed; that the trade to America is not ſecured by the acts of navigation, but by the natural and irreſiſtible ad⯑vantage of a commercial preference.

SUCH is the merit of the trade laws in this poſ⯑ture of the debate. But when ſtrong internal cir⯑cumſtances are urged againſt the taxes; when the ſcheme is diſſected; when experience and the na⯑ture of things are brought to prove, and do prove, the utter impoſſibility of obtaining an effective re⯑venue from the colonies; when theſe things are preſſed, or rather preſs themſelves, ſo as to drive the advocates of colony taxes to a clear admiſſion of the futility of the ſcheme; then, ſir, the ſleep⯑ing trade laws revive from their trance; and this uſeleſs taxation is to be kept ſacred, not for its own ſake, but as a counterguard and ſecurity of the laws of trade.

THEN, ſir, you keep up revenue laws which are miſchievous, in order to preſerve trade laws that are uſeleſs. Such is the wiſdom of our plan in both its members. They are ſeparately given up as of no value; and yet one is always to be de⯑fended for the ſake of the other. But I cannot agree with the noble lord, nor with the pamphlet from whence he ſeems to have borrowed theſe ideas, concerning the inutility of the trade laws. For without idolizing them, I am ſure they are ſtill, in [401] many ways, of great uſe to us; and in former times, they have been of the greateſt. They do confine, and they do greatly narrow, the market for the Americans. But my perfect conviction of this, does not help me in the leaſt to diſcern how the revenue laws form any ſecurity whatſoever to the commercial regulations; or that theſe commer⯑cial regulations are the true ground of the quarrel; or, that the giving way in any one inſtance of au⯑thority, is to loſe all that may remain unconceded.

ONE fact is clear and indiſputable. The public and avowed origin of this quarrel, was on taxation. This quarrel has indeed brought on new diſputes on new queſtions; but certainly the leaſt bitter, and the feweſt of all, on the trade laws. To judge which of the two be the real radical cauſe of quar⯑rel, we have to ſee whether the commercial diſpute did, in order of time, precede the diſpute on tax⯑ation? There is not a ſhadow of evidence for it. Next, to enable us to judge whether at this mo⯑ment a diſlike to the trade laws be the real cauſe of quarrel, it is abſolutely neceſſary to put the taxes out of the queſtion by a repeal. See how the Americans act in this poſition, and then you will be able to diſcern correctly what is the true object of the controverſy, or whether any controverſy at all will remain? Unleſs you conſent to remove this cauſe of difference, it is impoſſible, with de⯑cency, to aſſert that the diſpute is not upon what it is avowed to be. And I would, ſir, recommend to your ſerious conſideration, whether it be prudent to form a rule for puniſhing people, not on their own acts, but on your conjectures? Surely it is prepoſterous at the very beſt. It is not juſtifying your anger, by their miſconduct; but it is con⯑verting your ill-will into their delinquency.

[402]BUT the colonies will go further.—Alas! alas! when will this ſpeculating againſt fact and reaſon end? What will quiet theſe panic fears which we entertain of the hoſtile effect of a conciliatory conduct? Is it true, that no caſe can exiſt, in which it is proper for the ſovereign to accede to the deſires of his diſcontented ſubjects? Is there any thing pe⯑culiar in this caſe, to make a rule for itſelf? Is all authority of courſe loſt, when it is not puſhed to the extreme? Is it a certain maxim, that, the fewer cauſes of diſſatisfaction are left by government, the more the ſubject will be inclined to reſiſt and rebel?

ALL theſe objections being in fact no more than ſuſpicions, conjectures, divinations; formed in de⯑fiance of fact and experience; they did not, ſir, diſcourage me from entertaining the idea of a con⯑ciliatory conceſſion, founded on the principles which I have juſt ſtated.

IN forming a plan for this purpoſe, I endeavour⯑ed to put myſelf in that frame of mind, which was the moſt natural, and the moſt reaſonable; and which was certainly the moſt probable means of ſe⯑curing me from all error. I ſet out with a perfect diſtruſt of my own abilities; a total renunciation of every ſpeculation of my own; and with a profound reverence for the wiſdom of our anceſtors, who have left us the inheritance of ſo happy a conſti⯑tution, and ſo flouriſhing an empire, and what is a thouſand times more valuable, the treaſury of the maxims and principles which formed the one, and ebtained the other.

DURING the reigns of the kings of Spain of the Auſtrian family, whenever they were at a loſs in the Spaniſh councils, it was common for their ſtateſ⯑men to ſay, that they ought to conſult the genius [403] of Philip the ſecond. The genius of Philip the ſe⯑cond might miſlead them; and the iſſue of their affairs ſhewed, that they had not choſen the moſt perfect ſtandard. But, ſir, I am ſure that I ſhall not be miſled, when, in a caſe of conſtitutional difficulty, I conſult the genius of the Engliſh con⯑ſtitution. Conſulting at that oracle (it was with all due humility and piety) I found four capital ex⯑amples in a ſimilar caſe before me: thoſe of Ire⯑land, Wales, Cheſter, and Durham.

IRELAND, before the Engliſh conqueſt, though never governed by a deſpotic power, had no parli⯑ament. How far the Engliſh parliament itſelf was at that time modelled according to the preſent form, is diſputed among antiquarians. But we have all the reaſon in the world to be aſſured, that a form of parliament, ſuch as England then enjoy⯑ed, ſhe inſtantly communicated to Ireland; and we are equally ſure that almoſt every ſucceſſive im⯑provement in conſtitutional liberty, as faſt as it was made here, was tranſmitted thither. The feudal baronage, and the feudal knighthood, the roots of our primitive conſtitution, were early tranſplanted into that ſoil; and grew and flouriſhed there. Magna charta, if it did not give us originally the houſe of commons, gave us at leaſt an houſe of commons of weight and conſequence. But your anceſtors did not churliſhly ſit down alone to the feaſt of magna charta. Ireland was made immedi⯑ately a partaker. This benefit of Engliſh laws and liberties, I confeſs, was not at firſt extended to all Ireland. Mark the conſequence. Engliſh autho⯑rity and Engliſh liberties had exactly the ſame boundaries. Your ſtandard could never be ad⯑vanced an inch before your privileges. Sir John Davis ſhews beyond a doubt, that the refuſal of a general communication of theſe rights, was the true [404] cauſe why Ireland was five hundred years in ſub⯑duing; and after the vain projects of a military go⯑vernment, attempted in the reign of queen Eliza⯑beth, it was ſoon diſcovered, that nothing could make that country Engliſh, in civility and allegi⯑ance, but your laws and your forms of legiſlature. It was not Engliſh arms, but the Engliſh conſtitu⯑tion, that conquered Ireland. From that time, Ireland has ever had a general parliament, as ſhe had before a partial parliament. You changed the people; you altered the religion; but you never touched the form or the vital ſubſtance of free go⯑vernment in that kingdom. You depoſed kings; you reſtored them; you altered the ſucceſſion to theirs, as well as to your own crown; but you ne⯑ver altered their conſtitution; the principle of which was reſpected by uſurpation; reſtored with the re⯑ſtoration of monarchy, and eſtabliſhed, I truſt, for ever, by the glorious revolution. This has made Ireland the great and flouriſhing kingdom that it is; and from a diſgrace and a burthen intolerable to this nation, has rendered her a principal part of our ſtrength and ornament. This country cannot be ſaid to have ever formally taxed her. The irregu⯑lar things done in the confuſion of mighty troubles, and on the hinge of great revolutions, even if all were done that is ſaid to have been done, form no example. If they have any effect in argument, they make an exception to prove the rule. None of your own liberties could ſtand a moment, if the caſual deviations from them, at ſuch times, were ſuffered to be uſed as proofs of their nullity. By the lucrative amount of ſuch caſual breaches in the conſtitution, judge what the ſtated and fixed rule of ſupply has been in that kingdom. Your Iriſh pen⯑ſioners would ſtarve, if they had no other fund to live on than taxes granted by Engliſh authority. Turn your eyes to thoſe popular grants from whence [405] all your great ſupplies are come; and learn to re⯑ſpect that only ſource of public wealth in the Britiſh empire.

MY next example is Wales. This country was ſaid to be reduced by Henry the third. It was ſaid more truly to be ſo by Edward the firſt. But though then conquered, it was not looked upon as any part of the realm of England. Its old conſtitution, whatever that might have been, was deſtroyed; and no good one was ſubſtituted in its place. The care of that tract was put into the hands of lords marchers—a form of government of a very ſingu⯑lar kind; a ſtrange heterogeneous monſter, ſome⯑thing between hoſtility and government; perhaps it has a ſort of reſemblance, according to the modes of thoſe times, to that of commander in chief at preſent, to whom all civil power is granted as ſe⯑condary. The manners of the Welſh nation fol⯑lowed the genius of the government: The people were ferocious, reſtive, ſavage, and uncultivated; ſometimes compoſed, never pacified. Wales within itſelf, was in perpetual diſorder; and it kept the frontier of England in perpetual alarm. Bene⯑fits from it to the ſtate, there were none. Wales was only known to England, by incurſion and in⯑vaſion.

SIR, during that ſtate of things, parliament was not idle. They attempted to ſubdue the fierce ſpirit of the Welſh by all ſorts of rigorous laws. They prohibited by ſtatute the ſending all ſorts of arms into Wales, as you prohibit by proclamation (with ſomething more of doubt on the legality) the ſending arms to America. They diſarmed the Welſh by ſtatute, as you attempted (but ſtill with more queſtion on the legality) to diſarm New Eng⯑land by an inſtruction. They made an act to drag offenders from Wales into England for trial, as you [406] have done (but with more hardſhip) with regard to America. By another act, where one of the parties was an Engliſhman, they ordained, that his trial ſhould be always by Engliſh. They made acts to reſtrain trade, as you do; and they prevented the Welſh from the uſe of fairs and markets, as you do the Americans from fiſheries and foreign ports. In ſhort, when the ſtatute-book was not quite ſo much ſwelled as it is now, you find no leſs than fifteen acts of penal regulation on the ſubject of Wales.

HERE we rub our hands—A fine body of pre⯑cedents for the authority of parliament and the uſe of it!—I admit it fully; and pray add likewiſe to theſe precedents, that all the while, Wales rid this kingdom like an incubus; that it was an unprofit⯑able and oppreſſive burthen; and that an Engliſh⯑man travelling in that country, could not go ſix yards from the high road without being murdered.

THE march of the human mind is ſlow. Sir, it was not, until after two hundred years, diſco⯑vered, that by an eternal law, Providence had de⯑creed vexation to violence; and poverty to rapine. Your anceſtors did however at length open their eyes to the ill huſbandry of injuſtice. They found that the tyranny of a free people could of all tyran⯑nies the leaſt be endured; and that laws made againſt an whole nation were not the moſt effectual methods for ſecuring its obedience. Accordingly, in the twenty-ſeventh year of Henry VIII. the courſe was entirely altered. With a preamble ſtating the entire and perfect rights of the crown of England, it gave to the Welſh all the rights and privileges of Engliſh ſubjects. A political order was eſtabliſhed; the military power gave way to the civil; the marches were turned into counties. But that a nation ſhould have a right to Engliſh li⯑berties, [407] and yet no ſhare at all in the fundamental ſecurity of theſe liberties, the grant of their own property, ſeemed a thing ſo incongruous; that eight years after, that is, in the thirty-fifth of that reign, a complete and not ill proportioned repre⯑ſentation by counties and boroughs was beſtowed upon Wales, by act of parliament. From that moment, as by a charm, the tumults ſubſided; obedience was reſtored; peace, order, and civili⯑zation, followed in the train of liberty—When the day-ſtar of the Engliſh conſtitution had ariſen in their hearts, all was harmony within and with⯑out—

THE very ſame year the county palatine of Cheſter received the ſame relief from its oppreſſi⯑ons, and the ſame remedy to its diſorders. Before this time Cheſter was little leſs diſtempered than Wales. The inhabitants, without rights themſelves, were the fitteſt to deſtroy the rights of others; and from thence Richard II. drew the ſtanding army of archers, with which for a time he oppreſſed Eng⯑land. The people of Cheſter applied to parliament in a petition penned as I ſhall read to you:

‘TO the king our ſovereign lord, in moſt humble wiſe ſhewn unto your excellent majeſty, the inhabitants of your grace's county palatine of Cheſter, that where the ſaid county palatine of Cheſter is and hath been always hitherto exempt, excluded and ſeparated out and from your high court of parliament, to have any knights and burgeſſes within the ſaid court; by reaſon whereof the [408] ſaid inhabitants have hitherto ſuſtained manifold diſhe⯑riſons, loſſes and damages, as well in their lands, goods, and bodies, as in the good, civil, and politic governance and maintenance of the commonwealth of their ſaid coun⯑try: (2.) And for as much as the ſaid inhabitants have always hitherto been bound by the acts and ſtatutes made and ordained by your ſaid highneſs, and your moſt noble progenitors, by authority of the ſaid court, as far forth as other counties, cities, and boroughs have been, that have had their knights and burgeſſes within your ſaid court of parliament, and yet have had neither knight ne burgeſs there for the ſaid county palatine; the ſaid inhabitants, for lack thereof, have been oftentimes touch⯑ed and grieved with acts and ſtatutes made within the ſaid court, as well derogatory unto the moſt antient juriſ⯑dictions, liberties, and privileges of your ſaid county pala⯑tine, as prejudicial unto the common wealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace of your grace's moſt bounden ſubjects in⯑habiting within the ſame.’

WHAT did parliament with this audacious ad⯑dreſs?—reject it as a libel? Treat it as an affront to government? Spurn it as a derogation from the rights of legiſlature? Did they toſs it over the ta⯑ble? Did they burn it by the hands of the common hangman?—They took the petition of grievance, all rugged as it was, without ſoftening or tempera⯑ment, unpurged of the original bitterneſs and in⯑dignation of complaint; they made it the very pre⯑amble to their act of redreſs; and conſecrated its principle to all ages in the ſanctuary of legiſlation.

HERE is my third example. It was attended with the ſucceſs of the two former. Cheſter, civi⯑lized as well as Wales, has demonſtrated that free⯑dom and not ſervitude is the cure of anarchy; as religion, and not atheiſm, is the true remedy for ſuperſtition. Sir, this pattern of Cheſter was fol⯑lowed in the reign of Charles II. with regard to the [409] county palatine of Durham, which is my fourth ex⯑ample. This county had long lain out of the pale of free legiſlation. So ſcrupulouſly was the example of Cheſter followed, that the ſtyle of the preamble is nearly the ſame with that of the Cheſter act; and without affecting the abſtract extent of the autho⯑rity of parliament, it recognizes the equity of not ſuffering any conſiderable diſtrict in which the Bri⯑tiſh ſubjects may act as a body, to be taxed without their own voice in the grant.

NOW if the doctrines of policy contained in theſe preambles, and the force of theſe examples in the acts of parliament, avail any thing, what can be ſaid againſt applying them with regard to Ameri⯑ca? Are not the people of America as much Eng⯑liſhmen as the Welſh? The preamble of the act of Henry VIII. ſays, the Welſh ſpeak a language no way reſembling that of his majeſty's Engliſh ſub⯑jects. Are the Americans not as numerous? If we may truſt the learned and accurate judge Barring⯑ton's account of North Wales, and take that as a ſtandard to meaſure the reſt, there is no compari⯑ſon. The people cannot amount to above 200,000; not a tenth part of the number in the colonies. Is America in rebellion? Wales was hardly ever free from it. Have you attempted to govern America by penal ſtatutes? You made fifteen for Wales. But your legiſlative authority is perfect with regard to America; was it leſs perfect in Wales, Cheſter, and Durham? But America is virtually repreſented. What! does the electric force of virtual repreſenta⯑tion more eaſily paſs over the Atlantic, than per⯑vade Wales, which lies in your neighbourhood; or than Cheſter and Durham, ſurrounded by abun⯑dance of repreſentation that is actual and palpable? But, ſir, your anceſtors thought this ſort of virtual repreſentation, however ample, to be totally in⯑ſufficient [410] for the freedom of the inhabitants of terri⯑tories that are ſo near, and comparatively ſo incon⯑ſiderable. How then can I think it ſufficient for thoſe which are infinitely greater, and infinitely more remote?

YOU will now, ſir, perhaps imagine, that I am on the point of propoſing to you a ſcheme for a repre⯑ſentation of the colonies in parliament. Perhaps I might be inclined to entertain ſome ſuch thought; but a great flood ſtops me in my courſe. Oppoſuit natura—I cannot remove the eternal barriers of the creation. The thing in that mode, I do not know to be poſſible. As I meddle with no theory, I do not abſolutely aſſert the impracticability of ſuch a repreſentation. But I do not ſee my way to it; and thoſe who have been more confident, have not been more ſucceſsful. However, the arm of public be⯑nevolence is not ſhortened; and there are often ſe⯑veral means to the ſame end. What nature has dis⯑joined in one way, wiſdom may unite in another. When we cannot give the benefit as we would wiſh, let us not refuſe it altogether. If we cannot give the principal, let us find a ſubſtitute. But how? Where? What ſubſtitute?

FORTUNATELY I am not obliged for the ways and means of this ſubſtitute to tax my own unpro⯑ductive invention. I am not even obliged to go to the rich treaſury of the fertile framers of imagin⯑ary commonwealths; not to the republic of Plato, not to the Utopia of More; not to the Oceana of Harrington. It is before me—It is at my feet, and the rude ſwain treads daily on it with his clouted ſhoon. I only wiſh you to recognize, for the theory, the ancient conſtitutional policy of this kingdom with regard to repreſentation, as that policy has been de⯑clared in acts of parliament; and, as to the prac⯑tice, to return to that mode which an uniform ex⯑perience [411] has marked out to you, as beſt; and in which you walked with ſecurity, advantage, and honour, until the year 1763.

MY reſolutions therefore mean to eſtabliſh the equity and juſtice of a taxation of America, by grant, and not by impoſition. To mark the legal competency of the colony aſſemblies for the ſupport of their government in peace, and for public aids in time of war. To acknowledge that this legal competency has had a dutiful and beneficial exerciſe; and that experience has ſhewn the benefit of their grants, and the futility of parliamentary taxation as a method of ſupply.

THESE ſolid truths compoſe ſix fundamental pro⯑poſitions. There are three more reſolutions corol⯑lary to theſe. If you admit the firſt ſet, you can hardly reject the others. But if you admit the firſt, I ſhall be far from ſolicitous whether you accept or refuſe the laſt. I think theſe ſix maſſive pillars will be of ſtrength ſufficient to ſupport the temple of Britiſh concord. I have no more doubt than I en⯑tertain of my exiſtence, that, if you admitted theſe, you would command an immediate peace; and with but tolerable future management, a laſting obedience in America. I am not arrogant in this confident aſſurance. The propoſitions are all mere matters of fact; and if they are ſuch facts as draw irreſiſtible concluſions even in the ſtating, this is the power of truth, and not any management of mine.

SIR, I ſhall open the whole plan to you together, with ſuch obſervations on the motions as may tend to illuſtrate them where they may want explana⯑tion. The firſt is a reſolution— ‘"That the colonies and plantations of Great Britain in North America, conſiſting of fourteen ſeparate governments, and con⯑taining two millions and upwards of free inhabitants, [412] have not had the liberty and privilege of electing and ſending any knights and burgeſſes, or others to repre⯑ſent them in the high court of parliament."’ —This is a plain matter of fact, neceſſary to be laid down, and (excepting the deſcription) it is laid down in the language of the conſtitution; it is taken nearly verbatim from acts of parliament.

THE ſecond is like unto the firſt— ‘"That the ſaid colonies and plantations have been liable to, and boun⯑den by, ſeveral ſubſidies, payments, rates, and taxes, given and granted by parliament, though the ſaid colo⯑nies and plantations have not their knights and bur⯑geſſes, in the ſaid high court of parliament, of their own election, to repreſent the condition of their coun⯑try; by lack whereof they have been oftentimes touch⯑ed and grieved by ſubſidies given, granted, and aſſent⯑ed to, in the ſaid court, in a manner prejudicial to the common wealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace of the ſub⯑jects inhabiting within the ſame."’

IS this deſcription too hot, or too cold, too ſtrong, or too weak? Does it arrogate too much to the ſu⯑preme legiſlature? Does it lean too much to the claims of the people? If it runs into any of theſe errors, the fault is not mine. It is the language of your own ancient acts of parliament. Non meus hic ſermo, ſed quae praecepit Ofellus, ruſticus, abnormis ſapiens. It is the genuine produce of the ancient ruſtic, manly, home-bred ſenſe of this country—I did not dare to rub off a particle of the venerable ruſt that rather adorns and preſerves, than deſtroys the metal. It would be a profanation to touch with a tool the ſtones which conſtruct the ſacred altar of peace. I would not violate with modern poliſh the ingenuous and noble roughneſs of theſe truly conſtitutional materials. Above all things, I was reſolved not to be guilty of tampering, the odi⯑ous vice of reſtleſs and unſtable minds. I put my [413] foot in the tracks of our forefathers; where I can neither wander nor ſtumble. Determining to fix articles of peace, I was reſolved not to be wiſe be⯑yond what was written; I was reſolved to uſe no⯑thing elſe than the form of ſound words; to let others abound in their own ſenſe; and carefully to abſtain from all expreſſions of my own. What the law has ſaid, I ſay. In all things elſe I am ſilent. I have no organ but for her words. This, if it be not in⯑genious, I am ſure is ſafe.

THERE are indeed words expreſſive of grievance in this ſecond reſolution, which thoſe who are re⯑ſolved always to be in the right, will deny to contain matter of fact, as applied to the preſent caſe; al⯑though parliament thought them true, with regard to the counties of Cheſter and Durham. They will deny that the Americans were ever ‘"touched and griev⯑ed"’ with the taxes. If they conſider nothing in taxes but their weight as pecuniary impoſitions, there might be ſome pretence for this denial. But men may be ſorely touched and deeply grieved in their privileges, as well as in their purſes. Men may loſe little in property by the act which takes away all their freedom. When a man is robbed of a trifle on the highway, it is not the two-pence loſt that conſtitutes the capital outrage. This is not con⯑fined to privileges. Even ancient indulgencies with⯑drawn, without offence on the part of thoſe who en⯑joyed ſuch favours, operate as grievances. But were the Americans then not touched and grieved by the taxes, in ſome meaſure, merely as taxes? If ſo, why were they almoſt all, either wholly repealed or exceedingly reduced? Were they not touched and grieved, even by the regulating duties of the ſixth of George II? Elſe why were the duties firſt reduced to one third in 1764, and afterwards to a third of that third in the year 1766? Were they [414] not touched and grieved by the ſtamp-act? I ſhall ſay they were, until that tax is revived. Were they not touched and grieved by the duties of 1767, which were likewiſe repealed, and which, lord Hillſ⯑borough tells you (for the miniſtry) were laid con⯑trary to the true principle of commerce? Is not the aſſurance given by that noble perſon to the colonies of a reſolution to lay no more taxes on them, an admiſſion that taxes would touch and grieve them? Is not the reſolution of the noble lord in the blue ribband, now ſtanding on your journals, the ſtrong⯑eſt of all proofs that parliamentary ſubſidies really touched and grieved them? Elſe, why all theſe changes, modifications, repeals, aſſurances, and re⯑ſolutions?

THE next propoſition is— ‘"That, from the diſtance of the ſaid colonies, and from other circumſtances, no method hath hitherto been deviſed for procuring a re⯑preſentation in parliament for the ſaid colonies."’ This is an aſſertion of a fact. I go no further on the paper; though in my private judgment, an uſeful repreſen⯑tation is impoſſible; I am ſure it is not deſired by them; nor ought it perhaps by us; but I abſtain from opinions.

THE fourth reſolution is— ‘"That each of the ſaid colonies hath within itſelf a body, choſen in part, or in the whole, by the freemen, freeholders, or other free inhabitants thereof, commonly called the general aſſem⯑bly, or general court, with powers legally to raiſe, levy, and aſſeſs, according to the ſeveral uſage of ſuch colonies, duties and taxes towards defraying all ſorts of public ſervices."’

THIS competence in the colony aſſemblies is cer⯑tain. It is proved by the whole tenour of their acts of ſupply in all the aſſemblies, in which the conſtant ſtyle of granting is, ‘"an aid to his majeſty;"’ and [415] acts granting to the crown have regularly for near a century paſſed the public offices without diſpute. Thoſe who have been pleaſed paradoxically to deny this right, holding that none but the Britiſh parlia⯑ment can grant to the crown, are wiſhed to look to what is done, not only in the colonies, but in Ire⯑land, in one uniform unbroken tenour every ſeſſion. Sir, I am ſurprized, that this doctrine ſhould come from ſome of the law ſervants of the crown. I ſay, that if the crown could be reſponſible, his majeſty—but certainly the miniſters, and even theſe law offi⯑cers themſelves, through whoſe hands the acts paſs, biennially in Ireland, or annually in the colonies, are in an habitual courſe of committing impeachable of⯑fences. What habitual offenders have been all pre⯑ſidents of the council, all ſecretaries of ſtate, all firſt lords of trade, all attornies and all ſolicitors general! However, they are ſafe; as no one impeaches them; and there is no ground of charge againſt them, ex⯑cept in their own unfounded theories.

THE fifth reſolution is alſo a reſolution of fact— ‘"That the ſaid general aſſemblies, general courts, or other bodies legally qualified as aforeſaid, have at ſun⯑dry times freely granted ſeveral large ſubſidies and public aids for his majeſty's ſervice, according to their abilities, when required thereto by letter from one of his majeſty's principal ſecretaries of ſtate; and that their right to grant the ſame, and their chearfulneſs and ſufficiency in the ſaid grants, have been at ſundry times acknowledged by parliament."’ To ſay nothing of their great expences in the Indian wars; and not to take their exertion in foreign ones, ſo high as the ſupplies in the year 1695; not to go back to their public contributions in the year 1710; I ſhall begin to travel only where the journals give me light; re⯑ſolving to deal in nothing but fact, authenticated by [416] parliamentary record; and to build myſelf wholly on that ſolid baſis.

ON the 4th of April 1748,^h a committee of this houſe came to the following reſolution:

THESE expences were immenſe for ſuch colo⯑nies. They were above 200.000l. ſterling; money firſt raiſed and advanced on their public credit.

ON the 28th of January 1756,ⁱ a meſſage from the king came to us, to this effect— ‘"His majeſty, being ſenſible of the zeal and vigour with which his faithful ſubjects of certain colonies in North America have exerted themſelves in defence of his majeſty's juſt rights and poſſeſſions, recommends it to this houſe to take the ſame into their conſideration, and to enable his majeſty to give them ſuch aſſiſtance as may be a proper reward and encouragement."’

ON the 3d of February 1756,^k the houſe came to a ſuitable reſolution, expreſſed in words nearly the ſame as thoſe of the meſſage: but with the fur⯑ther addition, that the money then voted was as an encouragement to the colonies to exert themſelves with vigour. It will not be neceſſary to go through all the teſtimonies which your own records have given to the truth of my reſolutions. I will only refer you to the places in the journals:

• Vol. XXVII.—16th and 19th May, 1757.
• Vol. XXVIII.—June 1ſt, 1758—April 26th and 30th, 1759—March 26th and 31ſt, and April 28th, 1760—Jan. 9th and 20th, 1761.
• Vol. XXIX.—Jan. 22d and 26th, 1762—March 14th and 17th, 1763.

SIR, here is the repeated acknowledgment of parliament, that the colonies not only gave, but gave to ſatiety. This nation has formally acknow⯑ledged two things; firſt, that the colonies had gone beyond their abilities, parliament having thought it neceſſary to reimburſe them; ſecondly, that they had acted legally and laudably in their grants of money, and their maintenance of troops, ſince the compenſation is expreſsly given as reward and en⯑couragement. Reward is not beſtowed for acts that are unlawful; and encouragement is not held out to things that deſerve reprehenſion. My reſolution therefore does nothing more than collect into one propoſition, what is ſcattered through your journals. I give you nothing but your own; and you cannot refuſe in the groſs, what you have ſo often acknow⯑leged in detail. The admiſſion of this, which will be ſo honourable to them and to you, will, indeed, be mortal to all the miſerable ſtories, by which the paſſions of the miſguided people have been engaged in an unhappy ſyſtem. The people heard, indeed, from the beginning of theſe diſputes, one thing con⯑tinually dinned in their ears, that reaſon and juſtice demanded, that the Americans, who paid no taxes; ſhould be compelled to contribute. How did that fact of their paying nothing, ſtand, when the taxing ſyſtem began? When Mr. Grenville began to form his ſyſtem of American revenue, he ſtated in this houſe, that the colonies were then in debt two mil⯑lions [418] ſix hundred thouſand pounds ſterling money; and was of opinion they would diſcharge that debt in four years. On this ſtate, thoſe untaxed people were actually ſubject to the payment of taxes to the amount of ſix hundred and fifty thouſand a year. In fact, however, Mr. Grenville was miſtaken. The funds given for ſinking the debt did not prove quite ſo ample as both the colonies and he expected. The calculation was too ſanguine: the reduction was not compleated till ſome years after, and at dif⯑ferent times in different colonies. However, the taxes after the war, continued too great to bear any addition, with prudence or propriety; and when the burthens impoſed in conſequence of former re⯑quiſitions were diſcharged, our tone became too high to reſort again to requiſition. No colony, ſince that time, ever has had any requiſition whatſoever made to it.

WE ſee the ſenſe of the crown, and the ſenſe of parliament, on the productive nature of a revenue by grant. Now, ſearch the ſame journals for the pro⯑duce of the revenue by impoſition.—Where is it?—let us know the volume and the page?—what is the groſs, what is the nett produce?—to what ſervice is it applied?—how have you appropriated its ſurplus?—What, can none of the many ſkilful index-ma⯑kers, that we are now employing, find any trace of it?—Well, let them and that reſt together.—But are the journals, which ſay nothing of the revenue, as ſilent on the diſcontent?—Oh no! a child may find it. It is the melancholy burthen and blot of every page.

I THINK then I am, from thoſe journals, juſtified in the ſixth and laſt reſolution, which is— ‘"That it hath been found by experience, that the manner of granting the ſaid ſupplies and aids, by the ſaid gene⯑ral aſſemblies, hath been more agreeable to the ſaid co⯑lonies, and more beneficial, and conducive to the public [419] ſervice, than the mode of giving and granting aids in parliament, to be raiſed and paid in the ſaid colonies."’ This makes the whole of the fundamental part of the plan. The concluſion is irreſiſtible. You cannot ſay, that you were driven by any neceſſity, to an ex⯑erciſe of the utmoſt rights of legiſlature. You cannot aſſert, that you took on yourſelves the taſk of im⯑poſing colony taxes, from the want of another legal body, that is competent to the purpoſe of ſupplying the exigencies of the ſtate without wounding the prejudices of the people. Neither is it true that the body ſo qualified, and having that competence, had neglected the duty.

THE queſtion now, on all this accumulated mat⯑ter, is;—whether you will chuſe to abide by a pro⯑fitable experience, or a miſchievous theory; whe⯑ther you chuſe to build on imagination or fact; whe⯑ther you prefer enjoyment or hope; ſatisfaction in your ſubjects, or diſcontent?

IF theſe propoſitions are accepted, every thing which has been made to enforce a contrary ſyſtem, muſt, I take it for granted, fall along with it. On that ground, I have drawn the following reſolution, which, when it comes to be moved, will naturally be divided in a proper manner: ‘"That it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the ſeventh year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for granting certain duties in the Britiſh colonies and plantations in America; for allowing a drawback of the duties of cuſtoms upon the exportation from this kingdom, of coffee and cocoa-nuts of the produce of the ſaid colonies or plantations; for diſcontinuing the draw⯑backs payable on China earthen-ware exported to A⯑merica; and for more effectually preventing the clan-deſtine running of goods in the ſaid colonies and plan⯑tations.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act to diſcontinue in ſuch manner, [420] and for ſuch time, as are therein mentioned, the land⯑ing and diſcharging, lading or ſhipping, of goods, wares, and merchandize, at the town and within the harbour of Boſton, in the province of Maſſachuſet's Bay, in North America.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for the impartial adminiſtration of juſtice, in the caſes of per⯑ſons queſtioned for any acts done by them, in the execu⯑tion of the law, or for the ſuppreſſion of riots and tu⯑mults, in the province of Maſſachuſet's Bay in New England.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of his preſent majeſty, intituled, An act for the better regu⯑lating the government of the province of the Maſſa⯑chuſet's Bay in New England.—And alſo that it may be proper to explain and amend an act, made in the thirty-fifth year of the reign of king Henry the eighth, intituled, An act for the trial of treaſons committed out of the king's dominions."’

I WISH, ſir, to repeal the Boſton port bill, be⯑cauſe (independently of the dangerous precedent of ſuſpending the rights of the ſubject during the king's pleaſure) it was paſſed, as I apprehend, with leſs regularity, and on more partial principles, than it ought. The corporation of Boſton was not heard, before it was condemned. Other towns, full as guilty as ſhe was, have not had their ports blocked up. Even the reſtraining bill of the preſent ſeſſion does not go to the length of the Boſton port act. The ſame ideas of prudence, which induced you not to extend equal puniſhment to equal guilt, even when you were puniſhing, induce me, who mean not to chaſtiſe, but to reconcile, to be ſatisfied with the puniſhment already partially inflicted.

IDEAS of prudence, and accomodation to cir⯑cumſtances, prevent you from taking away the [421] charters of Connecticut and Rhode-iſland, as you have taken away that of Maſſachuſet's colony, though the crown has far leſs power in the two for⯑mer provinces than it enjoyed in the latter; and though the abuſes have been full as great, and as flagrant, in the exempted as in the puniſhed. The ſame reaſons of prudence and accommodation have weight with me in reſtoring the charter of Maſſa⯑chuſet's Bay. Beſides, ſir, the act which changes the charter of Maſſachuſet's is in many particulars ſo exceptionable, that, if I did not wiſh abſolutely to repeal, I would by all means deſire to alter it; as ſeveral of its proviſions tend to the ſubverſion of all public and private juſtice. Such, among others, is the power in the governor to change the ſheriff at his pleaſure; and to make a new returning officer for every ſpecial cauſe. It is ſhameful to behold ſuch a regulation ſtanding among Engliſh laws.

THE act for bringing perſons accuſed of com⯑mitting murder under the orders of government to England for trial, is but temporary. That act has calculated the probable duration of our quarrel with the colonies; and is accommodated to that ſuppoſ⯑ed duration. I would haſten the happy moment of reconciliation; and therefore muſt, on my principle, get rid of that moſt juſtly obnoxious act.

THE act of Henry the eighth, for the trial of trea⯑ſons, I do not mean to take away, but to confine it to its proper bounds and original intention; to make it expreſsly for trial of treaſons (and the great⯑eſt treaſons may be committed) in places where the juriſdiction of the crown does not extend.

HAVING guarded the privileges of local legiſla⯑ture, I would next ſecure to the colonies a fair and unbiaſſed judicature; for which purpoſe, ſir, I pro⯑poſe the following reſolution: ‘"That, from the time [422] when the general aſſembly or general court of any co⯑lony or plantation in North America, ſhall have ap⯑pointed by act of aſſembly, duly confirmed, a ſettled ſalary to the offices of the chief juſtice and other judges of the ſuperior court, it may be proper, that the ſaid chief juſtice and other judges of the ſuperior courts of ſuch colony, ſhall hold his and their office and offices during their good behaviour; and ſhall not be removed therefrom, but when the ſaid removal ſhall be adjudged by his majeſty in council, upon a hearing on complaint from the general aſſembly, or on a complaint from the governor, or council, or the houſe of repreſentatives ſeverally, of the colony in which the ſaid chief juſtice and other judges have exerciſed the ſaid offices."’

THE next reſolution relates to the courts of ad⯑miralty.

IT is this. ‘"That it may be proper to regulate the courts of admiralty, or vice admiralty, authorized by the 15th chap. of the 4th of George the third, in ſuch a manner as to make the ſame more commodious to thoſe who ſue, or are ſued, in the ſaid courts, and to provide for the more decent maintenance of the judges in the ſame."’

THESE courts I do not wiſh to take away; they are in themſelves proper eſtabliſhments. This court is one of the capital ſecurities of the act of naviga⯑tion. The extent of its juriſdiction, indeed, has been encreaſed; but this is altogether as proper, and is, indeed, on many accounts, more eligible, where new powers were wanted, than a court abſo⯑lutely new. But courts incommodiouſly ſituated, in effect, deny juſtice;^l and a court, partaking in [423] the fruits of its own condemnation, is a robber. The congreſs complain, and complain juſtly, of this grievance.

THESE are the three conſequential propoſitions. I have thought of two or three more; but they come rather too near detail, and to the province of execu⯑tive government, which I wiſh parliament always to ſuperintend, never to aſſume. If the firſt ſix are granted, congruity will carry the latter three. If not, the things that remain unrepealed, will be, I hope, rather unſeemly incumbrances on the building, than very materially detrimental to its ſtrength and ſta⯑bility.

HERE, ſir, I ſhould cloſe; but that I plainly per⯑ceive ſome objections remain, which, I ought, if poſſible, to remove. The firſt will be, that, in re⯑ſorting to the doctrine of our anceſtors, as contained in the preamble to the Cheſter act, I prove too much; that the grievance from a want of repreſen⯑tation, ſtated in that preamble, goes to the whole of legiſlation as well as to taxation. And that the co⯑lonies grounding themſelves upon that doctrine, will apply it to all parts of legiſlative authority.

TO this objection, with all poſſible deference and humility, and wiſhing as little as any man living to impair the ſmalleſt particle of our ſupreme authority, I anſwer, that the words are the words of parliament, and not mine; and, that all falſe and inconcluſive in⯑ferences, drawn from them, are not mine; for I heartily diſclaim any ſuch inference. I have choſen the words of an act of parliament, which Mr. Gren⯑ville, ſurely a tolerably zealous and very judicious advocate for the ſovereignty of parliament, formerly moved to have read at your table, in confirmation of his tenets. It is true that lord Chatham conſider⯑ed theſe preambles as declaring ſtrongly in favour [424] of his opinions. He was a no leſs powerful advo⯑cate for the privileges of the Americans. Ought I not from hence to preſume, that theſe preambles are as favourable as poſſible to both, when properly un⯑derſtood; favourable both to the rights of parlia⯑ment, and to the privilege of the dependencies of this crown? But, ſir, the object of grievance in my reſolution, I have not taken from the Cheſter, but from the Durham act, which confines the hardſhip of want of repreſentation, to the caſe of ſubſidies; and which therefore falls in exactly with the caſe of the colonies. But whether the unrepreſented coun⯑ties were de jure, or de facto, bound, the preambles do not accurately diſtinguiſh; nor indeed was it ne⯑ceſſary; for, whether de jure, or de facto, the legiſla⯑ture thought the exerciſe of the power of taxing, as of right, or as of fact without right, equally a griev⯑ance and equally oppreſſive.

I DO not know, that the colonies have, in any ge⯑ral way, or in any cool hour, gone much beyond the demand of immunity in relation to taxes. It is not fair to judge of the temper or diſpoſitions of any man, or any ſet of men, when they are compoſ⯑ed and at reſt, from their conduct, or their expreſ⯑ſions, in a ſtate of diſturbance and irritation. It is beſides a very great miſtake to imagine, that man⯑kind follow up practically any ſpeculative principle, either of government or of freedom, as far as it will go in argument and logical illation. We Engliſh⯑men, ſtop very ſhort of the principles upon which we ſupport any given part of our conſtitution; or even the whole of it together. I could eaſily, if I had not already tired you, give you very ſtriking and convincing inſtances of it. This is nothing but what is natural and proper. All government, in⯑deed every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue, and every prudent act, is founded on com⯑promiſe [425] and barter. We balance inconveniencies; we give and take; we remit ſome rights, that we may enjoy others; and, we chuſe rather to be hap⯑py citizens, than ſubtle diſputants. As we muſt give away ſome natural liberty, to enjoy civil advanta⯑ges; ſo we muſt ſacrifice ſome civil liberties, for the advantages to be derived from the communion and fellowſhip of a great empire. But in all fair dealings the thing bought, muſt bear ſome proportion to the purchaſe paid. None will barter away the immedi⯑ate jewel of his ſoul. Though a great houſe is apt to make ſlaves haughty, yet it is purchaſing a part of the artificial importance of a great empire too dear, to pay for it all eſſential rights, and all the in⯑trinſic dignity of human nature. None of us who would not riſque his life, rather than fall under a go⯑vernment purely arbitrary. But, although there are ſome amongſt us who think our conſtitution wants many improvements, to make it a complete ſyſtem of liberty, perhaps none who are of that opinion, would think it right to aim at ſuch improvement, by diſturbing his country, and riſquing every thing that is dear to him. In every arduous enterprize, we conſider what we are to loſe, as well as what we are to gain; and the more and better ſtake of liberty every people poſſeſs, the leſs they will hazard in a vain attempt to make it more. Theſe are the cords of man. Man acts from adequate motives relative to his intereſt; and not on metaphyſical ſpeculati⯑ons. Ariſtotle, the great maſter of reaſoning, cau⯑tions us, and with great weight and propriety, a⯑gainſt this ſpecies of deluſive geometrical accuracy in moral arguments, as the moſt fallacious of all ſophiſtry.

THE Americans will have no intereſt contrary to the grandeur and glory of England, when they are not oppreſſed by the weight of it; and they will ra⯑ther [426] be inclined to reſpect the acts of a ſuperin⯑tending legiſlature; when they ſee them the acts of that power, which is itſelf the ſecurity, not the rival, of their ſecondary importance. In this aſſurance, my mind moſt perfectly acquieſces; and I confeſs, I feel not the leaſt alarm, from the diſcontents which are to ariſe, from putting people at their eaſe; nor do I apprehend the deſtruction of this empire, from giving, by an act of free grace and indulgence, to two millions of my fellow citizens, ſome ſhare of thoſe rights, upon which I have always been taught to value myſelf.

IT is ſaid indeed, that this power of granting veſt⯑ed in American aſſemblies, would diſſolve the unity of the empire; which was preſerved, entire, although Wales, and Cheſter, and Durham, were added to it. Truly, Mr. Speaker, I do not know what this unity means; nor has it ever been heard of, that I know, in the conſtitutional policy of this country. The very idea of ſubordination of parts, excludes this notion of ſimple and undivided unity. England is the head; but ſhe is not the head and the members too. Ireland has ever had from the beginning a ſeparate, but not an independent, legiſlature; which, far from diſtracting, promoted the union of the whole. Every thing was ſweetly and harmoniouſly diſpoſed through both iſlands for the conſervation of Engliſh dominion, and the communication of Engliſh liberties. I do not ſee that the ſame princi⯑ples might not be carried into twenty iſlands, and with the ſame good effect. This is my model with regard to America, as far as the internal circumſtan⯑ces of the two countries are the ſame. I know no other unity of this empire, than I can draw from its example during theſe periods, when it ſeemed to my poor underſtanding more united than it is now, or than it is likely to be by the preſent methods.

[427]BUT ſince I ſpeak of theſe methods, I recollect, Mr. Speaker, almoſt too late, that I promiſed, be⯑fore I finiſhed, to ſay ſomething of the propoſition of the ^m noble lord on the floor, which has been ſo lately received, and ſtands on your journals. I muſt be deeply concerned, whenever it is my misfortune to continue a difference with the majority of this houſe. But as the reaſons for that difference are my apology for thus troubling you, ſuffer me to ſtate them in a very few words. I ſhall compreſs them into as ſmall a body as I poſſibly can, having al⯑ready debated that matter at large, when the queſ⯑tion was before the committee.

FIRST, then, I cannot admit that propoſition of a ranſom by auction;—becauſe it is a meer project. It is a thing new; unheard of; ſupported by no ex⯑perience; juſtified by no analogy; without exam⯑ple of our anceſtors, or root in the conſtitution. It is neither regular parliamentary taxation, nor colony grant. Experimentum in corpore vili, is a good rule, which will ever make me adverſe to any trial of ex⯑periments on what is certainly the moſt valuable of all ſubjects; the peace of this empire.

SECONDLY, it is an experiment which muſt be fatal in the end to our conſtitution. For what is it but a ſcheme for taxing the colonies in the anti-chamber of the noble lord and his ſucceſſors? To ſettle the quotas and proportions in this houſe, is clearly impoſſible. You, ſir, may flatter yourſelf, you ſhall ſit a ſtate auctioneer with your hammer in your hand, and knock down to each colony as it bids. But to ſettle (on the plan laid down by the noble lord) the true proportional payment for four or five and twenty governments, according to the abſolute and the relative wealth of each, and ac⯑cording to the Britiſh proportion of wealth and bur⯑then, [428] is a wild and chimerical notion. This new taxation muſt therefore come in by the back-door of the conſtitution. Each quota muſt be brought to this houſe ready formed; you can neither add nor alter. You muſt regiſter it. You can do no⯑thing further. For on what grounds can you deli⯑berate either before or after the propoſition? You cannot hear the counſel for all theſe provinces, quar⯑relling each on its own quantity of payment, and its proportion to others. If you ſhould attempt it, the committee of provincial ways and means, or by whatever other name it will delight to be called, muſt ſwallow up all the time of parliament.

THIRDLY, it does not give ſatisfaction to the complaint of the colonies. They complain, that they are taxed without their conſent; you anſwer, that you will fix the ſum at which they ſhall be tax⯑ed. That is, you give them the very grievance for the remedy. You tell them indeed, that you will leave the mode to themſelves. I really beg pardon: it gives me pain to mention it; but you muſt be ſenſible that you will not perform this part of the compact. For, ſuppoſe the colonies were to lay the duties which furniſhed their contingent, upon the importation of your manufactures; you know you would never ſuffer ſuch a tax to be laid. You know too, that you would not ſuffer many other modes of taxation. So that, when you come to explain your⯑ſelf, it will be found, that you will neither leave to themſelves the quantum nor the mode; nor indeed any thing. The whole is deluſion from one end to the other.

FOURTHLY, this method of ranſom by auction, unleſs it be univerſally accepted, will plunge you into great and inextricable difficulties. In what year of our Lord are the proportions of payments to be ſet⯑tled? To ſay nothing of the impoſſibility that co⯑lony [429] agents ſhould have general powers of taxing the colonies at their diſcretion; conſider, I implore you, that the communication by ſpecial meſſages, and orders between theſe agents and their conſtitu⯑ents on each variation of the caſe, when the parties come to contend together, and to diſpute on their relative proportions, will be a matter of delay, per⯑plexity, and confuſion, that never can have an end.

IF all the colonies do not appear at the outcry, what is the condition of thoſe aſſemblies, who offer, by themſelves or their agents, to tax themſelves up to your ideas of their proportion? The refractory colonies, who refuſe all compoſition, will remain taxed only to your old impoſitions; which, how⯑ever grievous in principle, are trifling as to produc⯑tion. The obedient colonies in this ſcheme are heavily taxed; the refractory remain unburthened. What will you do? Will you lay new and heavier taxes by parliament on the diſobedient? Pray con⯑ſider in what way you can do it? You are perfectly convinced that in the way of taxing, you can do no⯑thing but at the ports. Now ſuppoſe it is Virginia that refuſes to appear at your auction, while Mary⯑land and North Carolina bid handſomely for their ranſom, and are taxed to your quota? How will you put theſe colonies on a par? Will you tax the tobacco of Virginia? If you do, you give its death-wound to your Engliſh revenue at home, and to one of the very greateſt articles of your own foreign trade. If you tax the import of that rebellious co⯑lony, what do you tax but your own manufactures, or the goods of ſome other obedient, and already well-taxed colony? Who has ſaid one word on this labyrinth of detail, which bewilders you more and more as you enter into it? Who has preſented, who can preſent you, with a clue, to lead you out of it? I think, ſir, it is impoſſible, that you ſhould not re⯑collect [430] that the colony bounds are ſo implicated in one another (you know it by your other experi⯑ments in the bill for prohibiting the New-England fiſhery) that you can lay no poſſible reſtraints on almoſt any of them which may no be preſently eluded, if you do not confound the innocent with the guilty, and burthen thoſe whom upon every principle, you ought to exonerate. He muſt be groſsly ignorant of America, who thinks, that, with⯑out falling into this confuſion of all rules of equity and policy, you can reſtrain any ſingle colony, eſ⯑pecially Virginia and Maryland, the central, and moſt important of them all.

LET it alſo be conſidered, that, either in the pre⯑ſent confuſion you ſettle a permanent contingent, which will and muſt be trifling; and then you have no effectual revenue: or you change the quota at every exigency; and then on every new repartition you will have a new quarrel.

REFLECT beſides, that when you have fixed a quota for every colony, you have not provided for prompt and punctual payment. Suppoſe one, two, five, ten years arrears. You cannot iſſue a treaſury extent againſt the failing colony. You muſt make new Boſton port bills, new reſtraining laws, new acts for dragging men to England for trial. You muſt ſend out new fleets, new armies. All is to begin again. From this day forward the empire is never to know an hour's tranquillity. An inteſtine fire will be kept alive in the bowels of the colonies, which one time or other muſt conſume this whole empire. I allow indeed that the empire of Germa⯑ny raiſes her revenue and her troops by quotas and contingents; but the revenue of the empire, and the army of the empire, is the worſt revenue, and the worſt army, in the world.

[431]INSTEAD of a ſtanding revenue, you will there⯑fore have a perpetual quarrel. Indeed the noble lord, who propoſed this project of a ranſom by auc⯑tion, ſeemed himſelf to be of that opinion. His project was rather deſigned for breaking the union of the colonies, than for eſtabliſhing a revenue. He confeſſed, he apprehended that his propoſal would not be to their taſte. I ſay, this ſcheme of diſunion ſeems to be at the bottom of the project; for I will not ſuſpect that the noble lord meant nothing but merely to delude the nation by an airy phantom which he never intended to realize. But, whatever his views may be; as I propoſe the peace and uni⯑on of the colonies as the very foundation of my plan, it cannot accord with one whoſe foundation is perpetual diſcord.

COMPARE the two. This I offer to give you is plain and ſimple. The other full of perplexed and intricate mazes. This is mild; that harſh. This is found by experience effectual for its purpoſes; the other is a new project. This is univerſal; the other calculated for certain colonies only. This is immediate in its conciliatory operation; the other remote, contingent, full of hazard. Mine is what becomes the dignity of a ruling people; gratui⯑tous, unconditional, and not held out as matter of bargain and ſale. I have done my duty in propoſ⯑ing it to you. I have indeed tired you by a long diſcourſe; but this is the misfortune of thoſe to whoſe influence nothing will be conceded, and who muſt win every inch of their ground by argument. You have heard me with goodneſs. May you de⯑cide with wiſdom! For my part, I feel my mind greatly diſburthened, by what I have done to-day. I have been the leſs fearful of trying your patience, becauſe on this ſubject I mean to ſpare it altogether in future. I have this comfort, that in every ſtage [432] of the American affairs, I have ſteadily oppoſed the meaſures that have produced the confuſion, and may bring on the deſtruction, of this empire. I now go ſo far as to riſque a propoſal of my own. If I cannot give peace to my country; I give it to my conſcience.

BUT what (ſays the financier) is peace to us without money? Your plan gives us no revenue. No! But it does—For it ſecures to the ſubject the power of REFUSAL; the firſt of all revenues. Experience is a cheat, and fact a liar, if this power in the ſubject of proportioning his grant, or of not granting at all, has not been found the richeſt mine of revenue ever diſcovered by the ſkill or by the fortune of man. It does not indeed vote you £. 152 750: 11: 2¾ths, nor any other paltry li⯑mited ſum.—But it gives the ſtrong box itſelf, the fund, the bank, from whence only revenues can ariſe amongſt a people ſenſible of freedom: Poſita luditur arca. Cannot you in England; cannot you at this time of day; cannot you, an houſe of com⯑mons, truſt to the principle which has raiſed ſo mighty a revenue, and accumulated a debt of near 140 millions in this country? Is this principle to be true in England, and falſe every where elſe? Is it not true in Ireland? Has it not hitherto been true in the colonies? Why ſhould you preſume that, in any country, a body duly conſtituted for any func⯑tion, will neglect to perform its duty, and abdicate its truſt? Such a preſumption would go againſt all government in all modes. But, in truth, this dread of penury of ſupply, from a free aſſembly, has no foundation in nature. For firſt obſerve, that, be⯑ſides the deſire which all men have naturally of ſup⯑porting the honour of their own government; that ſenſe of dignity, and that ſecurity to property, which ever attends freedom, has a tendency to in⯑creaſe [433] the ſtock of the free community. Moſt may be taken where moſt is accumulated. And what is the ſoil or climate where experience has not uni⯑formly proved, that the voluntary flow of heaped-up plenty, burſting from the weight of its own rich luxuriance, has ever run with a more copious ſtream of revenue, than could be ſqueezed from the dry huſks of oppreſſed indigence, by the ſtraining of all the politic machinery in the world.

NEXT we know, that parties muſt ever exiſt in a free country. We know too, that the emulations of ſuch parties, their contradictions, their reciprocal neceſſities, their hopes, and their fears, muſt ſend them all in their turns to him that holds the balance of the ſtate. The parties are the gameſters; but government keeps the table, and is ſure to be the winner in the end. When this game is played, I really think it is more to be feared, that the people will be exhauſted, than that government will not be ſupplied. Whereas, whatever is got by acts of ab⯑ſolute power ill obeyed, becauſe odious, or by con⯑tracts ill kept, becauſe conſtrained; will be narrow, feeble, uncertain, and precarious. ‘"Eaſe would re⯑tract vows made in pain, as violent and void."’

I, for one, proteſt againſt compounding our de⯑mands: I declare againſt compounding, for a poor limited ſum, the immenſe, evergrowing, eternal debt, which is due to generous government from protected freedom. And ſo may I ſpeed in the great object I propoſe to you, as I think it would not only be an act of injuſtice, but would be the worſt oeconomy in the world, to compel the colo⯑nies to a ſum certain, either in the way of ranſom, or in the way of compulſory compact.

BUT to clear up my ideas on this ſubject—a re⯑venue from America tranſmitted hither—do not [434] delude yourſelves—you never can receive it—No, not a ſhilling. We have experience that from re⯑mote countries it is not to be expected. If, when you attempted to extract revenue from Bengal, you were obliged to return in loan what you had taken in impoſition; what can you expect from North America? for certainly, if ever there was a country qualified to produce wealth, it is India; or an in⯑ſtitution fit for the tranſmiſſion, it is the Eaſt-India company. America has none of theſe aptitudes. If America gives you taxable objects, on which you lay your duties here, and gives you, at the ſame time, a ſurplus by a foreign ſale of her commodities to pay the duties on theſe objects which you tax at home, ſhe has performed her part to the Britiſh re⯑venue. But with regard to her own internal eſta⯑bliſhments; ſhe may, I doubt not ſhe will, contri⯑bute in moderation. I ſay in moderation; for ſhe ought not to be permitted to exhauſt herſelf. She ought to be reſerved to a war; the weight of which, with the enemies that we are moſt likely to have, muſt be conſiderable in her quarter of the globe. There ſhe may ſerve you, and ſerve you eſſentially.

FOR that ſervice, for all ſervice, whether of re⯑venue, trade, or empire, my truſt is in her intereſt in the Britiſh conſtitution. My hold of the colonies is in the cloſe affection which grows from common names, from kindred blood, from ſimilar privileges, and equal protection. Theſe are ties, which, though light as air, are as ſtrong as links of iron. Let the colonies always keep the idea of their civil rights aſſociated with your government;—they will cling and grapple to you; and no force under heaven will be of power to tear them from their allegiance. But let it be once underſtood, that your govern⯑ment may be one thing, and their privileges ano⯑ther; that theſe two things may exiſt without any [435] mutual relation; the cement is gone; the coheſion is looſened; and every thing haſtens to decay and diſſolution. As long as you have the wiſdom to keep the ſovereign authority of this country as the ſanctuary of liberty, the ſacred temple conſecrated to our common faith, wherever the choſen race and ſons of England worſhip freedom, they will turn their faces towards you. The more they multiply, the more friends you will have; the more ardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience. Slavery they can have any where. It is a weed that grows in every ſoil. They may have it from Spain, they may have it from Pruſſia. But until you become loſt to all feeling of your true in⯑tereſt and your natural dignity, freedom they can have from none but you. This is the commodity of price, of which you have the monopoly. This is the true act of navigation, which binds to you the commerce of the colonies, and through them ſecures to you the wealth of the world. Deny them this participation of freedom, and you break that ſole bond, which originally made, and muſt ſtill preſerve, the unity of the empire. Do not enter⯑tain ſo weak an imagination, as that your regiſters and your bonds, your affidavits and your ſufferan⯑ces, your cockets and your clearances, are what form the great ſecurities of your commerce. Do not dream that your letters of office, and your in⯑ſtructions, and your ſuſpending clauſes, are the things that hold together the great contexture of this myſterious whole. Theſe things do not make your government. Dead inſtruments, paſſive tools as they are, it is the ſpirit of Engliſh communion that gives all their life and efficacy to them. It is the ſpirit of the Engliſh conſtitution, which, infuſed through the mighty maſs, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies, every part of the empire, even down to the minuteſt member.

[436]IS it not the ſame virtue which does every thing for us here in England? Do you imagine then, that it is the land-tax act which raiſes your reve⯑nue? that it is the annual vote in the committee of ſupply, which gives you your army? or that it is the mutiny bill which inſpires it with bravery and diſcipline? No! ſurely no! It is the love of the people; it is their attachment to their government from the ſenſe of the deep ſtake they have in ſuch a glorious inſtitution, which gives you your army and your navy, and infuſes into both that liberal obedience, without which your army would be a baſe rabble, and your navy nothing but rotten timber.

ALL this, I know well enough, will ſound wild and chimerical to the prophane herd of thoſe vulgar and mechanical politicians, who have no place among us; a ſort of people who think that nothing exiſts but what is groſs and material; and who therefore, far from being qualified to be directors of the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel in the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly taught, theſe ruling and maſter principles, which, in the opinion of ſuch men as I have mentioned, have no ſubſtantial exiſtence, are in truth every thing, and all in all. Magnanimity in politics is not ſeldom the trueſt wiſdom; and a great empire and little minds go ill together. If we are conſcious of our ſituation, and glow with zeal to fill our place as becomes our ſtation and ourſelves, we ought to auſpicate all our public pro⯑ceedings on America, with the old warning of the church, Surſum corda! We ought to elevate our minds to the greatneſs of that truſt to which the or⯑der of Providence has called us. By adverting to the dignity of this high calling, our anceſtors have turned a ſavage wilderneſs into a glorious empire; [437] and have made the moſt extenſive, and the only honourable conqueſts; not by deſtroying, but by promoting, the wealth, the number, the happineſs, of the human race. Let us get an American re⯑venue as we have got an American empire. Engliſh privileges have made it all that it is; Engliſh pri⯑vileges alone will make it all it can be.

IN full confidence of this unalterable truth, I now (quod felix fauſtumque ſit)—lay the firſt ſtone of the temple of peace; and I move you,

‘"THAT the colonies and plantations of Great Bri⯑tain in North America, conſiſting of fourteen ſeparate governments, and containing two millions and upwards of free inhabitants, have not had the liberty and pri⯑vilege of electing and ſending any knights and burgeſ⯑ſes, or others, to repreſent them in the high court of parliament."’