SPEECH OF EDMUND BURKE, ESQ.

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 anxiety 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^*. 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 [2] 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, 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 embarraſſed (unleſs we pleaſe to make ourſelves ſo) by any incon⯑gruous mixture of coercion and reſtraint. We are therefore called upon, as it were by a ſuperior warning voice, again to attend to America; to attend to the whole of it together; and to review the ſubject with an unuſual degree of care and calmneſs.

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 Continent preſſed themſelves upon us, as the moſt important 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 in⯑ſtruct 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 arrive from America.

At that period, I had the fortune to find myſelf in perfect con⯑currence with a large majority in this Houſe. Bowing under that high authority, and penetrated with the ſharpneſs and ſtrength of that early impreſſion, I have continued ever ſince, without the leaſt deviation, in my original ſentiments. Whether this be owing to an obſtinate perſeverance in error, or to a religious adherence to what appears to me truth and reaſon, it is in your equity to judge.

Sir, Parliament having an enlarged view of objects, made, during this interval, more frequent changes in their ſentiments and their [3] 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 alterations, one fact is undoubted; that under them the ſtate of America has been kept in continual agitation. 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 de⯑ſcription.

In this poſture, Sir, things ſtood at the beginning of the ſeſſion. About that time, a worthy ^* member of great parliamentary ex⯑perience, 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 politicks, told me, things were come to ſuch a paſs, that our former methods of proceeding in the houſe would be no longer tolerated. That the publick tribunal (never too in⯑dulgent to a long and unſucceſsful oppoſition) would now ſcrutinize our conduct with unuſual ſeverity. That the very viciſſitudes and ſhiftings of miniſterial meaſures, inſtead of convicting their authors of inconſtancy and want of ſyſtem, would be taken as an occaſion of charging us with a pre-determined diſcontent, which nothing could ſatisfy; whilſt we accuſed every meaſure of vigour as cruel, and every propoſal of lenity as weak and irreſolute. The public, he ſaid, would not have patience to ſee us play the game out with our adverſaries: we muſt produce 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 draw⯑ing 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 repreſented; but I felt my ſituation too. His application might have been made with far [4] 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 generally argues ſome degree of natural impotence of mind, or ſome want of know⯑ledge 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 pro⯑perly diſpoſed for their reception; and for my part, I am not ambi⯑tious 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 Paper Government; nor of any Politics, in which the plan is to be wholly ſeparated from the exe⯑cution. But when I ſaw, that anger and violence prevailed every day more and more; and that things were haſtening towards an in⯑curable alienation of our Colonies; I confeſs, my caution gave way. I felt this, as one of thoſe few moments in which decorum 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 inconſiderable 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 en⯑noble the flights of the higheſt genius, and obtain pardon for the efforts of the meaneſt underſtanding. Struggling a good while with theſe thoughts, by degrees I felt myſelf more firm. I de⯑rived, 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 re⯑commend 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, [5] 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 negociations; not Peace to ariſe out of univerſal diſcord, fomented, from principle, in all parts of the Empire; not Peace to depend on the Juridical Determination of perplex⯑ing queſtions; or the preciſe marking the ſhadowy boundaries of a complex Government. It is ſimple Peace; ſought in its natural 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 for⯑mer unſuſpecting confidence of the Colonies in the Mother Country, to give permanent ſatisfaction to your people; and (far from a ſcheme of ruling by diſcord) to reconcile them to each other in the ſame act, and by the bond of the very ſame intereſt, which reconciles 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 Mankind. Genuine Simplicity of heart is an healing and cementing principle. My Plan, therefore, being formed upon the moſt ſimple grounds imaginable, may diſappoint ſome people, when they hear it. It has nothing to re⯑commend it to the pruriency of curious ears. There is nothing at all new and captivating in it. It has nothing of the Splendor of the Project, which has been lately laid upon your Table by the Noble Lord in the Blue Ribband^*. It does not propoſe to fill your [6] Lobby with ſquabbling Colony Agents, who will require the in⯑terpoſition of your Mace, at every inſtant, to keep the peace amongſt them. It does not inſtitute 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 payments, beyond all the powers of Algebra to equalize 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 menacing 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 admiſ⯑ſible, 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 Taxa⯑tion were not wholly unfounded. That right thus exerted is al⯑lowed to have had ſomething reprehenſible in it; ſomething unwiſe, or ſomething grievous: ſince, in the midſt of our heat and reſent⯑ment, we, of ourſelves, have propoſed a capital alteration; and, in order to get rid of what ſeemed ſo very exceptionable, have in⯑ſtituted 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 [7] to give peace. Peace implies reconciliation; and where there has been a material diſpute, reconciliation does in a manner always im⯑ply 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 diſarmed, he is wholly at the mercy of his ſuperior; and he loſes for ever that time and thoſe chances, which, as they hap⯑pen to all men, are the ſtrength and reſources of all inferior power.

The capital leading queſtions on which you muſt this day de⯑cide, are theſe two. Firſt, whether 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 ob⯑ſerving to you) ſome ground. But I am ſenſible that a good deal more is ſtill to be done. Indeed, Sir, to enable us to determine both on the one and the other of theſe great queſtions with a firm and preciſe judgement, 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 circumſtances; and not according to our own ima⯑ginations; not according to abſtract ideas of right; by no means according to mere general theories of government, 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 circumſtances in as full and as clear a manner as I am able to ſeate them.

The firſt thing that we have to conſider with regard to the na⯑ture 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; be⯑ſides at leaſt 500,000 others, who form no inconſiderable part of the ſtrength and opulence of the whole. This, Sir, is, I believe, about [8] 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 diſ⯑pute 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 Millions, we ſhall find we have Millions more to manage. Your children do not grow faſter from infancy to manhood, than they, ſpread from fa⯑milies 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 partial, narrow, contracted, pinched, occaſional ſyſtem 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 conſideration of the law; not a paltry excreſcence of the ſtate; not a mean de⯑pendant, who may be neglected with little damage, and provoked with little danger. It will prove, that ſome degree of care and cau⯑tion 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 in⯑tereſts 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 popu⯑lation, 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 beyond the numbers of the people. This ground of their commerce indeed has been trod ſome days ago, and with great ability, by a diſtinguiſhed ^* 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 ima⯑gination and extent of erudition, which even then marked him as [9] one of the firſt literary characters of his age, he has added a conſum⯑mate knowledge in the commercial intereſt of his country, formed by a long courſe of enlightened 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 comparative 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 eſta⯑bliſhed the Inſpector General's office, which has been ever ſince his time ſo abundant a ſource of parliamentary information.

The export trade to the Colonies conſiſts of three great branches. The African, which, terminating 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 at⯑tempt to ſeparate them, would tear to pieces the contexture of the whole; and if not entirely deſtroy, would very much de⯑preciate 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 begin⯑ning of this century, that is, in the year 1704, ſtood thus:

[10] 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 pe⯑riods, within this century;—and this is matter for meditation. 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, 000 l. 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 unnatural 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 [11] of the Six Millions 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 proportion 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 immenſe view of what is, and what is paſt. Clouds in⯑deed, and darkneſs, reſt upon the future. Let us however, before we deſcend from this noble 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 progreſs. He was in 1704 of an age, at leaſt to be made to com⯑prehend ſuch things. He was then old enough acta parentum jam legere, et quae ſit poterit 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 councils) was to be made Great Britain, he ſhould ſee his ſon, Lord Chancellor of England, turn back the current of hereditary dignity to its foun⯑tain, 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 uncouth [12] 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 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 enthu⯑ſiaſm, to make him believe it? Fortunate 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 atten⯑tion a particular inſtance of it in the ſingle province of Penſylvania. In the year 1704 that province called for 11,459 l. in value of your commodities, 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 507,909 l. 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 ſubject, have here a tendency to ſink it. When we ſpeak of the commerce with our Colonies, fiction lags after truth; invention is unfruitful, and imagination cold and barren.

So far, Sir, as to the importance of the object in the view of its commerce, as concerned in the exports from England. If I were to detail the imports, I could ſhew how many enjoyments they pro⯑cure, which deceive the burthen of life; how many materials which invigorate the ſprings of national induſtry, and extend and animate every part of our foreign and domeſtic commerce. This would be a curious ſubject indeed—but I muſt preſcribe bounds to myſelf in a matter ſo vaſt and various.

[13] I paſs therefore to the Colonies in another point of view, their agriculture. This they have proſecuted with ſuch a ſpirit, that, beſides feeding plentifully their own growing multitude, their an⯑nual export of grain, comprehending rice, has ſome years ago ex⯑ceeded 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 mother 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 exube⯑rance 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 enter⯑prizing employment has been exerciſed, ought rather, in my opi⯑nion, 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 tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the deepeſt frozen receſſes of Hudſon's 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 ro⯑mantick an object for the graſp of national ambition, is but a ſtage and reſting-place in the progreſs of their victorious induſtry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more diſcouraging to them, than the ac⯑cumulated 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 purſue their gigantic game along the coaſt of Brazil. No ſea but what is vexed by their fiſheries. No climate that is not witneſs to their toils. Neither 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 [14] 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 ſuſpicious 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 Liberty.

I am ſenſible, Sir, that all which I have aſſerted in my detail, is admitted in the groſs; but that quite a different concluſion is drawn from it. America, 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, poſ⯑ſibly 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 numerous, ſo active, ſo growing, ſo ſpirited as this, in a pro⯑fitable 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 re⯑move 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 remains; but, force failing, no further hope of reconciliation is left. Power and authority are ſometimes bought by kindneſs; but they [15] can never be begged as alms, by an impoveriſhed and defeated violence.

A further objection to force is, that you impair 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 to conſume its ſtrength along with our own; becauſe 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, be⯑cauſe it is the ſpirit that has made the country.

Laſtly, we have no ſort of experience in favour of force as an in⯑ſtrument in the rule of our Colonies. Their growth and their utility has been owing to methods altogether different. Our ancient 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 panitence.

Theſe, Sir, are my reaſons for not entertaining that high opinion of untried force, by which many Gentlemen, for whoſe ſentiments in other particulars I have great reſpect, ſeem to be ſo greatly captivated. But there is ſtill behind a third conſideration concern⯑ing this object, which ſerves to determine my opinion on the ſort of policy which ought to be purſued in the management of Ame⯑rica, even more than its Population and its Commerce, I mean its Temper and Character.

In this Character of the Americans, a love of Freedom is the predominating feature, which marks and diſtinguiſhes the whole: and as an ardent is always a jealous affection, your Colonies be⯑come ſuſpicious, 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. [16] This fierce ſpirit of Liberty is ſtronger in the Engliſh Colonies pro⯑bably 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 deſcendents 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 predominant; 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 principles. Abſtract Liberty, like other mere abſtractions, is not to be found. Liberty inheres in ſome ſenſible object; and every nation has formed to itſelf ſome favourite point, which by way of eminence becomes the criterion of their happineſs. It happened, 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 parchments, and blind uſages, to reſide in a certain body called an Houſe of Commons. They went much further; they attempted to prove, and they ſucceeded, that in theory it ought to be ſo, from the particular nature of a Houſe of Commons, as an immediate 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 monar⯑chies, the people muſt in effect themſelves mediately or imme⯑diately poſſeſs the power of granting their own money, or no ſhadow of liberty could ſubſiſt. The Colonies draw from you as [17] 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 ge⯑neral arguments; and your mode of governing them, whether through lenity or indolence, through wiſdom or miſtake, con⯑firmed them in the imagination, that they, as well as you, had an intereſt in theſe common principles.

They were further confirmed in this pleaſing error by the form of their provincial legiſlative aſſemblies. Their governments are popular in an high degree; ſome are merely popular; in all, the popular 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.

If any thing were wanting to this neceſſary operation 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 ſub⯑miſſion of mind and opinion. This is a perſuaſion not only fa⯑vourable to liberty, but built upon it. I do not think, Sir, that the reaſon of this averſeneſs in the diſſenting churches from all that looks like abſolute Government is ſo much to be ſought in their re⯑ligious tenets, as in their hiſtory. Every one knows, that the Roman Catholick 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 go⯑vernment. But the diſſenting intereſts have ſprung up in direct [18] oppoſition to all the ordinary 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 un⯑remitted aſſertion of that claim. All proteſtantiſm, 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 reſiſt⯑ance; it is the diſſidence of diſſent; and the proteſtantiſm of the proteſtant religion. This religion, under a variety of denomi⯑nations, agreeing in nothing but in the communion of the ſpirit of liberty, is predominant in moſt of the Northern provinces; where the Church of England, notwithſtanding 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 when this ſpirit was high; and in the emigrants was the higheſt of all: and even that ſtream of foreigners, which has been conſtantly flowing into theſe Colonies, has, for the greateſt part, been com⯑poſed of diſſenters from the eſtabliſhments of their ſeveral coun⯑tries, 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 England forms a large body, and has a regular eſtabliſhment. It is certainly true. There is however a circum⯑ſtance attending theſe Colonies, which in my opinion, fully coun⯑terbalances 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 multitude 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 freedom, 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 morality 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 [19] 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 Gothick anceſtors; ſuch in our days were the Poles; and ſuch will be all maſters of ſlaves, who are not ſlaves them⯑ſelves. 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 Colo⯑nies, which contributes no mean part towards 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 devotion, were ſo many books as thoſe on the Law exported 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 Com⯑mentaries in America as in England. General Gage marks out this diſpoſition very particularly in a letter on your table. He ſtates, that all the people in his government are lawyers, or ſmat⯑terers in law; and that in Boſton they have been enabled, by ſuc⯑ceſsful chicane, wholly to evade many parts of one of your ca⯑pital penal conſtitutions. The ſmartneſs of debate will ſay, that this knowledge ought to teach them more clearly the rights of legiſlature, their obligations to obedience, and the penalties of re⯑bellion. All this is mighty well. But my ^* 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 knowledge to the ſervice of the ſtate, it is a formidable adverſary to government. If the ſpirit be not tamed [20] and broken by theſe happy methods, it is ſtubborn and litigious. Abeunt ſtudia in mores. This ſtudy renders men acute, inquiſitive, dextrous, prompt in attack, ready in defence, full of reſources. In other countries, the people, more ſimple and of a leſs mer⯑curial caſt, judge of an ill principle in government only by an actual grievance; here they anticipate the evil, and judge of the preſſure of the grievance by the badneſs of the principle. 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 Colonies is hardly leſs powerful than the reſt, as it is not merely moral, but laid deep in the natural conſtitution 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, winged miniſters of venge⯑ance, who carry your bolts in their pounces to the remoteſt verge of the ſea. But there a power ſteps in, that limits the ar⯑rogance 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 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 authority in his centre, is derived from a prudent relaxation 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.

[21] Then, Sir, from theſe ſix capital ſources; of Deſcent; of Form of Government; of Religion in the Northern Provinces; of Man⯑ners in the Southern; of Education; of the Remoteneſs of Situa⯑tion 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 Colonies, and encreaſed with the encreaſe of their wealth; a Spirit, that unhappily meeting with an exerciſe of Power in England, which, however lawful, is not reconcileable 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 accept⯑able to us. Perhaps ideas of Liberty might be deſired, more reconcileable 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 during a perpetual minority) than with any part of it in their own hands. But the queſtion is, not whether their ſpirit deſerves praiſe or blame;—what, in 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 im⯑portance; the temper; the habits; the diſorders. By all theſe con⯑ſiderations, we are ſtrongly urged to determine ſomething concern⯑ing it. We are called 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 unhappy deliberations as the pre⯑ſent. Every ſuch return will bring the matter before us in a ſtill more untractable form. For, what aſtoniſhing and incredible things have we not ſeen already? What monſters 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 certain, either in rea⯑ſoning 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 vital movement, from the [22] pleaſure of the Crown. We thought, Sir, that the utmoſt which the diſcontented 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, reſolved, that none but an obedient Aſſembly ſhould ſit, the hu⯑mours of the people there, finding all paſſage through the legal channel ſtopped, with great violence broke out another way. Some provinces have tried their experiment, as we have tried ours; and theirs has ſucceeded. They have formed a Govern⯑ment ſufficient for its purpoſes, without the buſtle of a Revolution, or the troubleſome formality of an Election. Evident neceſſity, and tacit conſent, have done the buſineſs in an inſtant. So well they have done it, that Lord Dunmore (the account is among the tragments on your table) tells you, that the new inſtitution is in⯑finitely better obeyed than the antient Government ever was in its moſt fortunate periods. Obedience is what makes Government, and not the names by which it is called; not the name of Gover⯑nor, as formerly, or Committee, as at preſent. This new Govern⯑ment has originated directly from the people; and was not tranſ⯑mitted through any of the ordinary artificial media of a poſitive conſtitution. It was not a manufacture ready formed, and tranſ⯑mitted to them in that condition from England. The evil ariſing from hence is this; that the Coloniſts having once found the poſſi⯑bility of enjoying the advantages of order, in the midſt of a ſtrug⯑gle for Liberty, ſuch ſtruggles will not henceforward ſeem ſo ter⯑rible 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 an⯑tient Government of Maſſachuſet. We were confident, that the firſt feeling, if not the very proſpect of anarchy, would in⯑ſtantly enforce a compleat ſubmiſſion. The experiment was tried. A new, ſtrange, unexpected face of things appeared. Anarchy is found tolerable. A vaſt province has now ſubſiſted, and ſubſiſted in a conſiderable degree of health and vigour, for near a twelve⯑month, without Governor, without public Council, without Judges, without executive Magiſtrates. How long it will continue [23] 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 infallible, are either not of the importance they were imagined to be; or that we have not at all adverted 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 opinions, which contribute ſo much to the public tranquillity. 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 Ame⯑ricans have no right to their Liberties, we are every day endeavour⯑ing 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, without at⯑tacking 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 poſ⯑ſible aſp [...]ct. Sir, if I were capable of engaging 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 ſtubborn Spirit, which prevails in your Colonies, and diſturbs your Govern⯑ment. Theſe are—To change that Spirit, as inconvenient, by re⯑moving the Cauſes. To proſecute it as criminal. Or, to comply with it as neceſſary. I would not be guilty of an imperfect enu⯑meration; I can think of but theſe three. Another has indeed been ſtarted, that of giving up 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.

[24] The firſt of theſe plans, to change the Spirit as inconvenient, by removing the cauſes, I think is the moſt like a ſyſtematick proceed⯑ing. It is radical in its principle; but it is attended with great difficulties, ſome of them little ſhort, as I conceive, of impoſ⯑ſibilities. 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 objec⯑tions. 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 mo⯑nopoliſts, without any adequate check to the growing and alarm⯑ing miſchief of population.

But, if you ſtopped your grants, what would be the conſe⯑quence? 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 Tillage, and remove with their flocks and herds to another. Many of the people in the back ſettlements are already little attached to particular ſituations. Al⯑ready 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 govern⯑ment, 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 Counſellors, your collectors and comptrollers, and of all the Slaves that adhered to them. Such would, and, in no long [25] time, muſt be, the effect of attempting 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 different, 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 peopled, 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 go⯑vernment.

Adhering, Sir, as I do, to this policy, as well as for the rea⯑ſons I have juſt given, I think this new project of hedging-in popu⯑lation to be neither prudent nor practicable.

To impoveriſh the Colonies in general, and in particular to ar⯑reſt 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 reſtraint after the offence; looking on ourſelves as rivals to our Colonies, and per⯑ſuaded that of courſe we muſt gain all that they ſhall loſe. Much miſchief 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 pre⯑poſterous, to make them unſerviceable, in order to keep them obe⯑dient. It is, in truth, nothing more than the old, and, as I thought, exploded problem of tyranny, which propoſes to beggar its ſubjects into ſubmiſſion. But, remember, when you have compleated your ſyſtem of impoveriſhment, that Nature ſtill proceeds in her or⯑dinary courſe; that diſcontent will encreaſe with miſery; and that there are critical moments in the fortune of all ſtates, when they, [26] 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 would hear you tell them this tale, would detect the impoſition; your ſpeech would betray you. An Engliſhman is the unſitteſt perſon on earth, to argue another Engliſhman into ſlavery.

I think it is nearly as little in our power to change their repub⯑lican Religion, as their free deſcent; or to ſubſtitute the Roman Catholick, as a penalty; or the Church of England, as an im⯑provement. The mode of inquiſition and dragoouing, 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 cannot per⯑ſuade 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 impracticable to think of wholly annihilating the popular aſſemblies, 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 obedience.

With regard to the high ariſtocratick ſpirit of Virginia and the ſouthern Colonies, it has been propoſed, I know, to reduce it, by declaring a general enfranchiſement of their ſhwes. This project 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 talk of en⯑franchiſement, do we not perceive that the American maſter may [27] 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 ſituation 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 traffick? 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 Carolina, with a cargo of three hundred Angola ne⯑groes. It would be curious to ſee the Guinea captain attempting at the ſame inſtant to publiſh his proclamation of liberty, and to ad⯑vertiſe 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 con⯑tinues in its preſent bed, ſo long all the cauſes which weaken au⯑thority by diſtance will continue. ‘"Ye gods, annihilate but ſpace and time, and make two lovers happy!—"’was a pious and paſ⯑ſionate 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 re⯑move the natural), which produce prejudices irreconcileable to the late exerciſe of our authority; but that the ſpirit infallibly will continue; and, continuing, will produce ſuch effects, as now em⯑barraſs us; the ſecond mode under 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 diſ⯑ſenſions which may, from time to time, on great queſtions, agitate [28] the ſeveral communities which compoſe a great Empire. It looks to me to be narrow and pedantic, 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, entruſted with magiſtracies of great au⯑thority 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 humanity, not mild and merciful.

Perhaps, Sir, I am miſtaken in my idea of an Empire, as diſ⯑tinguiſhed from a ſingle State or Kingdom. But my idea of it is this; that an Empire is the aggregate of many States, under one common head; whether this head be a monarch, or a preſiding re⯑public. It does, in ſuch conſtitutions, frequently happen (and nothing but the diſmal, cold, dead uniformity of ſervitude can prevent its happening) that the ſubordinate parts have many local privileges and immunities. Between theſe privileges, and the ſu⯑preme common authority, 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 exerciſe 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 privileges of a State or of a perſon, who has no ſuperior, is hardly any better than ſpeaking nonſenſe. Now, in ſuch unfortunate quarrels, among the compo⯑nent parts of a great political union of communities, I can ſcarce⯑ly 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-treaſon, is a Government to which ſubmiſſion [29] is equivalent 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 Colonies, by the neceſ⯑ſity 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 exceedingly 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 compelled to recol⯑lect, that, in my little reading upon ſuch conteſts as theſe, the ſenſe of mankind has, at leaſt, as often decided againſt the ſupe⯑rior 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 certain cir⯑cumſtances, 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 convinces 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 addreſſed to have Traitors brought hither under an act of Henry the Eighth, for Trial. For though rebellion is de⯑clared, it is not proceeded againſt as ſuch; nor have any ſteps been taken towards the apprehenſion 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 puniſhment of rebellious ſubjects. All this ſeems [30] rather 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 ponder. What is it we have got by all our menaces, which have been many and fero⯑cious? What advantage 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 confident 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 Li⯑berty be, for the greater part, or rather entirely, impracticable; if the ideas of Criminal 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 neceſſary; or, if you pleaſe, to ſubmit to it, as a neceſſary Evil.

If we adopt this mode; if we mean to conciliate and concede; let us ſee of what nature the conceſſion ought to be? To aſcer⯑tain 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 Parliament, 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 for them, but of a kind totally different. Such an act may be a wiſe regulation, but it is no conceſſion: whereas our preſent theme is the mode of giving ſatisfaction.

Sir, I think you muſt perceive, that I am reſolved this day to have nothing at all to do with the queſtion of the right of taxation. Some gentlemen ſtartle—but it is true: I put it totally out of the queſtion. It is leſs than nothing in my conſideration. I do not indeed wonder, nor will you, Sir, that gentlemen of profound [31] learning are fond of diſplaying it on this profound ſubject. But my conſideration is narrow, confined, and wholly limited to the Policy of the queſtion. I do not examine, 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 in⯑ſeparable from the ordinary Supreme Power? Theſe are deep queſ⯑tions, where great names militate againſt each other; where reaſon is perplexed; and an appeal to authorities only thickens the confu⯑ſion. For high and reverend authorities lift up their heads on both ſides; and there is no ſure ſooting 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 reſpectable 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, tells me, I ought to do. Is a politic act the worſe for being a generous one? Is no conceſſion 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 exerciſe 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 keep⯑ing up the concord of this empire by a Unity of Spirit, though in a diverſity of operations, 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 pre⯑valent in my own day, and to govern two million of men, impatient [32] of Servitude, on the principles of Freedom. I am not deter⯑mining a point of law; I am reſtoring tranquillity; and the general character and ſituation of a people muſt determine what ſort of go⯑vernment 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 intereſt in the conſtitution; and, by recording that admiſſion in the Journals of Parliament, to give them as ſtrong an aſſurance as the nature of the thing 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 un⯑conditional abatement 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 further 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 misfor⯑tune is, we are too actute; 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 Conceſ⯑ſion freely confeſs, that they hope no good from Taxation; but they apprehend the Coloniſts have further views; and if this point were conceded, they would inſtantly attack the Trade-laws. Theſe Gentlemen are convinced, that this was the intention from the beginning; and the quarrel of the Americans with Taxation was no more than a cloke and cover to this deſign. Such has been the language even of a ^* Gentleman of real moderation, and of a natural temper well adjuſted to fair and equal Government. I am, however, [33] Sir, not a little ſurprized 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 with it, and which are often urged from the ſame mouths, and on the ſame day.

For inſtance, when we alledge, that it is againſt reaſon to tax a people under ſo many reſtraints in trade as the Americans, the ^* 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 advantage of a commercial preference.

Such is the merit of the trade laws in this poſture of the debate. But when ſtrong internal circumſtances are urged againſt the taxes; when the ſcheme is diſſected; when experience and the nature of things are brought to prove, and do prove, the utter impoſſibility of obtaining an effective revenue 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 ſleeping 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 defended 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 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 Ame⯑ricans. But my perfect conviction of this, does not help me in the leaſt to diſcern how the revenue laws form any ſecurity what⯑ſoever to the commercial regulations; or that theſe commercial re⯑gulations [34] are the true ground of the quarrel; or, that the giving way in any one inſtance of authority, is to loſe all that may re⯑main 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 quarrel, we have to ſee whe⯑ther the commercial diſpute did, in order of time, precede the diſ⯑pute on taxation? There is not a ſhadow of evidence for it. Next, to enable us to judge whether at this moment 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 diſ⯑cern correctly what is the true object of the controverſy, or whe⯑ther any controverſy at all will remain? Unleſs you conſent to remove this cauſe of difference, it is impoſſible, with decency, to aſſert that the diſpute is not upon what it is avowed to be. And I would, Sir, recommend to your ſerious conſideration, whe⯑ther 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 miſ⯑conduct; but it is converting your ill-will into their delinquency.

But the Colonies will go further.—Alas! alas! when will this ſpeculating againſt fact and reaſon end? What will quiet theſe panick fears which we entertain of the hoſtile effect of a con⯑ciliatory 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 peculiar 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 diſ⯑ſatisfaction 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, con⯑jectures, divinations; formed in defiance of fact and experience; they did not, Sir, diſcourage me from entertaining the idea of a [35] conciliatory conceſſion, founded on the principles which I have juſt ſtated.

In forming a plan for this purpoſe, I endeavoured 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 ſecuring 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 anceſ⯑tors, who have left us the inheritance of ſo happy a conſtitution, 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 obtained 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 ſtateſmen to ſay, that they ought to conſult the genius of Philip the Second. The genius of Philip the Second 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 conſtitution. Con⯑ſulting at that oracle (it was with all due humility and piety) I found four capital examples in a ſimilar caſe before me: thoſe of Ireland, Wales, Cheſter, and Durham.

Ireland, before the Engliſh conqueſt, though never governed by a deſpotick power, had no Parliament. How far the Engliſh Parliament itſelf was at that time modelled, according to the pre⯑ſent 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 enjoyed, ſhe inſtantly communicated to Ireland; and we are equally ſure that almoſt every ſucceſſive improvement 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 [36] your anceſtors did not churliſhly ſit down alone to the feaſt of Magna Charta. Ireland was made immediately a partaker. This benefit of Engliſh laws and liberties, I confeſs, was not at firſt ex⯑tended to all Ireland. Mark the conſequence. Engliſh authority and Engliſh liberties, had exactly the ſame boundaries. Your ſtandard could never be advanced 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 cauſe why Ireland was five hundred years in ſubduing; and after the vain projects of a Military Government, attempted in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, it was ſoon diſcovered, that nothing could make that country Engliſh, in civility and allegiance, but your laws and your forms of legiſlature. It was not Engliſh arms, but the Engliſh conſtitution, that conquered Ireland. From that time, Ireland has ever had a general Parliament, as ſhe had before a partial Parlia⯑ment. You changed the people; you altered the religion; but you never touched the form or the vital ſubſtance of free government in that kingdom. You depoſed kings; you reſtored them; you al⯑tered the ſucceſſion to theirs, as well as to your own crown; but you never altered their conſtitution; the principle of which was reſpected by uſurpation; reſtored with the reſtoration 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 irre⯑gular 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 ar⯑gument, 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 nul⯑lity. By the lucrative amount of ſuch caſual breaches in the con⯑ſtitution, judge what the ſtated and fixed rule of ſupply has been in that Kingdom. Your Iriſh penſioners 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 all your great ſupplies are come; and learn to reſpect that only ſource of publick wealth in the Britiſh empire.

[37] My next example is Wales. This country was ſaid to be re⯑duced 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 ſingular kind; a ſtrange heterogeneous monſter, ſomething 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 ſecondary. The manners of the Welſh nation, followed the Genius of the Go⯑vernment: The people were ferocious, reſtive, ſavage, and unculti⯑vated; ſometimes compoſed, never pacified. Wales within itſelf, was in perpetual diſorder; and it kept the frontier of England in perpetual alarm. Benefits from it to the ſtate, there were none. Wales was only known to England, by incurſion and invaſion.

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 ſome⯑thing 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 England by an inſtruction. They made an act to drag offenders from Wales into England for trial, as you have done (but with more hard⯑ſhip) 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 precedents for the au⯑thority of Parliament and the uſe of it!—I admit it fully; and pray [38] add likewiſe to theſe precedents, that all the while, Wales rid this kingdom like an incubus; that it was an unproſitable and oppreſſive burthen; and that an Engliſhman travelling in that country, could not go fix yards from the high road without being murdered.

The march of the human mind is flow. Sir, it was not, until after Two Hundred years, diſcovered, thatby an eternal law, Pro⯑vidence had decreed vexation to violence; and poverty to rapine. Your anceſtors did however at length open their eyes to the ill huſ⯑bandry of injuſtice. They found that the tyranny of a free people could of all tyrannies 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 na⯑tion ſhould have a right to Engliſh liberties, 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 propor⯑tioned repreſentation 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 civilization, followed in the train of liberty—When the day-ſtar of the Engliſh conſtitution had ariſen in their hearts, all was harmony within and without—

The very ſame year the county palatine of Cheſter received the ſame relief from its oppreſſions, and the ſame remedy to its diſ⯑orders. Before this time Cheſter was little leſs diſtempered than [39] 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 op⯑preſſed England. 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 ſaid inhabitants have hitherto ſuſtained manifold diſheriſons, loſſes and damages, as well in their lands, goods, and bodies, as in the good, civil, and politick governance and mainte⯑nance of the commonwealth of their ſaid country: (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 coun⯑ties, 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 touched and grieved with acts and ſtatutes made within the ſaid court, as well derogatory unto the moſt antient juriſdictions, liberties, and privileges of your ſaid county palatine, as prejudicial unto the common wealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace of your grace's moſt bounden ſubjects inhabiting within the ſame.’

What did Parliament with this audacious addreſs?—reject it as a libel? Treat it as an affront to government? Spurn it as a deroga⯑tion from the rights of legiſlature? Did they toſs it over the table? Did they burn it by the hands of the common hangman?—They took the petition of grievance, all rugged as it was, without ſoften⯑ing or temperament, unpurged of the original bitterneſs and indig⯑nation of complaint; they made it the very preamble 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, civilized as well as Wales, has demon⯑ſtrated [40] that freedom and not ſervitude is the cure of anarchy; as re⯑ligion, and not atheiſm, is the true remedy for ſuperſtition. Sir, this pattern of Cheſter was followed in the reign of Charles II. with regard to the county palatine of Durham, which is my fourth example. This county had long lain out of the pale of free legiſla⯑tion. 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 authority of Parliament, it recognizes the equity of not ſuffering any conſiderable diſtrict in which the Britiſh 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 America? Are not the people of America as much Engliſhmen 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 ſubjects. Are the Americans not as numerous? If we may truſt the learned and accurate Judge Barrington's account of North Wales, and take that as a ſtandard to meaſure the reſt, there is no compariſon. 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 repreſentation more eaſily paſs over the Atlantic, than pervade Wales, which lies in your neighbourhood; or than Cheſter and Durham ſurrounded by abundance of repreſentation that is actual and palpable? But, Sir, your anceſtors thought this ſort of virtual repreſentation, however ample, to be totally inſufficient for the freedom of the inhabitants of territories that are ſo near, and comparatively ſo inconſiderable. How then can I think it ſuffi⯑cient for thoſe which are infinitely greater, and infinitely more remote?

[41] You will now, Sir, perhaps imagine, that I am on the point of propoſing to you a ſcheme for a repreſentation 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 benevolence is not ſhortened; and there are often ſeveral means to the ſame end. What nature has disjoined 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 unproductive invention. I am not even obliged to go to the rich treaſury of the fertile framers of imaginary commonwealths; not to the Republick 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 declared in acts of parliament; and, as to the practice, to return to that mode which an uniform experience 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.

[42] Theſe ſolid truths compoſe fix fundamental propoſitions. There are three more reſolutions corollary 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 ſollicitous 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 entertain of my exiſtence, that, if you admitted theſe, you would command an immediate peace; and with but tolerable fu⯑ture management, a laſting obedience in America. I am not ar⯑rogant in this confident aſſurance. The propoſitions are all mere matters of fact; and if they are ſuch facts as draw irreſiſtible con⯑cluſions 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 ob⯑ſervations on the motions as may tend to illuſtrate them where they may want explanation. The firſt is a reſolution—‘"That the Colo⯑nies and Plantations of Great Britain in North America, conſiſting of Fourteen ſeparate Governments, and containing Two Millions and upwards of free inhabitants, 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 mat⯑ter of fact, neceſſary to be laid down, and (excepting the de⯑ſcription) 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 bounden by, ſeveral ſubſidies, payments, rates, and taxes, given and granted by Parliament, though the ſaid Colonies 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 country; by lack whereof they have been oftentimes touched and grieved by ſubſidies given, granted, and aſſented to, in the ſaid court, in a manner prejudicial to the com⯑mon wealth, quietneſs, reſt, and peace, of the ſubjects inhabiting within the ſame."’

[43] Is this deſcription too hot, or too cold, too ſtrong, or too weak? Does it arrogate too much to the ſupreme 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 an⯑cient acts of Parliament. Non meus hic ſermo, ſed quae praecepit Ofellus, ruflicus, abnormis ſapiens. It is the genuine produce of the ancient ruſtick, manly, home-bred ſenſe of this country—I did not dare to rub off a particle of the venerable ruſt that ra⯑ther 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 mate⯑rials. Above all things, I was reſolved not to be guilty of tampering, the odious vice of reſtleſs and unſtable minds. I put my 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 beyond what was written; I was reſolved to uſe nothing 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 ingenious, I am ſure is ſafe.

There are indeed words expreſſive of grievance in this ſecond re⯑ſolution, which thoſe who are reſolved always to be in the right, will deny to contain matter of fact, as applied to the preſent caſe; although Parliament thought them true, with regard to the counties of Cheſter and Durham. They will deny that the Americans were ever "touched and grieved" 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 confined to privileges. Even ancient indulgences withdrawn, without offence on the part of thoſe who enjoyed ſuch favours, ope⯑rate as grievances. But were the Americans then not touched and [44] grieved by the taxes, in ſome meaſure, merely as taxes? If ſo, why were they almoſt all, either wholly repealed or exceedingly re⯑duced? 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 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 Hillſborough tells you (for the miniſtry) were laid contrary 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 ſtrongeſt of all proofs that parliamentary ſubſidies really touched and grieved them? Elſe, why all theſe changes, modifications, re⯑peals, aſſurances, and reſolutions?

The next propoſition is—‘"That, from the diſtance of the ſaid Colonies, and from other circumſtances, no method hath hitherto been deviſed for procuring are preſentation in Parliament for the ſaid Colo⯑nies."’ This is an aſſertion of a fact. I go no further on the pa⯑per; though in my private judgement, an uſeful repreſentation 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, freebolders, or other free inhabitants thereof, commonly called the General Aſſembly, or General Court, with powers legalty 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 certain. 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 acts granting to the Crown have regularly for near a century paſſed the public offices without [45] diſpute. Thoſe who have been pleaſed paradoxically to deny this right, holding that none but the Britiſh parliament can grant to the Crown, are wiſhed to look to what is done, not only in the Colonies, but in Ireland, 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 officers themſelves, through whoſe hands the acts paſs, bien⯑nially in Ireland, or annually in the Colonies, are in an habitual courſe of committing impeachable offences. What habitual offen⯑ders have been all Preſidents of the Council, all Secretaries of State, all Firſt Lords of Trade, all Attornies and all Sollicitors General! However, they are ſafe; as no one impeaches them; and there is no ground of charge againſt them, except 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 ſundry 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; reſolving to deal in nothing but fact, au⯑thenticated by parliamentary record; and to build myſelf wholly on that ſolid baſis.

On the 4th of April 1748^*, a Committee of this Houſe came to the following Reſolution:

Theſe expences were immenſe for ſuch Colonies. They were above 200,000 l. ſterling; money firſt raiſed and advanced on their public credit.

On the 28th of January 1756^*, 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 Ame⯑rica 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^†, the Houſe came to a ſuitable reſolution, expreſſed in words nearly the ſame as thoſe of the meſ⯑ſage: but with the further addition, that the money then voted was as an encouragement to the Colonies to exert themſelves with vi⯑gour. 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 acknowledgement of Parliament, that the Colonies not only gave, but gave to ſatiety. This nation has formally acknowledged 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 laud⯑ably in their grants of money, and their maintenance of troops, ſince the compenſation is expreſsly given as reward and encouragement. [47] Reward is not beſtowed for acts that are unlawful; and en⯑couragement is not held out to things that deſerve reprehen⯑ſion. 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 acknowledged in detail. The admiſſion of this, which will be ſo honourable to them and to you, will, in⯑deed, 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 continually dinned in their ears, that reaſon and juſtice de⯑manded, that the Americans, who paid no Taxes, ſhould be com⯑pelled to contribute. How did that fact of their paying nothing, ſtand, when the Taxing Syſtem began? When Mr. Grenville be⯑gan to form his ſyſtem of American Revenue, he ſtated in this Houſe, that the Colonies were then in debt two millions ſix hun⯑dred 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 different times in different Colonies. How⯑ever, the Taxes after the war, continued too great to bear any ad⯑dition, with prudence or propriety; and when the burthens im⯑poſed in conſequence of former requiſitions 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 produce 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-makers, 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 [48] 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 General Aſſemblies, hath been more agreeable to the ſaid Colonies, and more beneficial, and conducive to the public 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 funda⯑mental part of the plan. The concluſion is irreſiſtible. You can⯑not ſay, that you were driven by any neceſſity, to an exerciſe of the utmoſt Rights of Legiſlature. You cannot aſſert, that you took on yourſelves the taſk of impoſing Colony Taxes, from the want of another legal body, that is competent to the purpoſe of ſupply⯑ing 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 matter, is;—whether you will chuſe to abide by a profitable experience, or a miſchievous theory; whether 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, in⯑tituled, 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 diſcon⯑tinuing the drawbacks payable on China Earthen-ware exported to America; and for more effectually preventing the clandeſtine running of goods in the ſaid Colonies and Plantations.—And that it may be proper to repeal an act, made in the fourteenth year of the reign of [49] his preſent Majeſty, intituled, An act to diſcontinue, in ſuch manner, and for ſuch time, as are therein mentioned, the landing and diſ⯑charging, lading or ſhipping, of goods, wares, and merchandize, at the town and within the harbour of Boſton, in the Province of Maſſa⯑chuſet'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 perſons queſtioned for any acts done by them, in the exe⯑cution of the law, or for the ſuppreſſion of riots and tumults, 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 regulating the Government of the province of the Maſſachuſet'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, becauſe (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 re⯑gularity, and on more partial principles, than it ought. The corpo⯑ration 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 in⯑duced you not to extend equal puniſhment to equal guilt, even when you were puniſhing, induce me, who mean not to chaſtiſe, but to recon⯑cile, to be ſatisfied with the puniſhment already partially inflicted.

Ideas of prudence, and accommodation to circumſtances, pre⯑vent you from taking away the Charters of Connecticut and Rhode-iſland, as you have taken away that of Maſſachuſet's Co⯑lony, though the Crown has far leſs power in the two former pro⯑vinces 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 Maſſachuſet's Bay. Beſides, Sir, the Act which changes the Charter of Maſſachuſet's is in [50] many particulars ſo exceptionable, that, if I did not wiſh ab⯑ſolutely 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 Go⯑vernor 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 committing 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 ſuppoſed 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 Treaſons, 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 greateſt Treaſons may be committed) in places where the juriſ⯑diction of the Crown does not extend.

Having guarded the privileges of Local Legiſlature, I would next ſecure to the Colonies a fair and unbiaſſed Judicature; for which purpoſe, Sir, I propoſe the following reſolution: ‘"That, from the time when the General Aſſembly or General Court of any Colony or Plantation in North America, ſhall have appointed by act of Aſ⯑ſembly, 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 Admiralty.

[51] It is this. ‘"That it may be proper to regulate the Courts of Ad⯑miralty, or Vice Admirally, authorized by the 15th Chap. of the 4th of George the Third, in ſuch a manner as to make the ſame more com⯑modious to thoſe who ſue, or are ſued in the ſaid Courts, and to pro⯑vide for the more decent maintenance of the Judges in the ſame."’

Theſe Courts I do not wiſh to take away; they are in them⯑ſelves proper eſtabliſhments. This Court is one of the capital ſecurities of the Act of Navigation. 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 abſolutely new. But Courts incommo⯑diouſly ſituated, in effect, deny juſtice; and a Court, partaking in 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 executive 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 ſtability.

Here, Sir, I ſhould cloſe; but that I plainly perceive ſome ob⯑jections remain, which I ought, if poſſible, to remove. The firſt will be, that, in reſorting to the doctrine of our anceſtors, as con⯑tained in the preamble to the Cheſter act, I prove too much; that the grievance from a want of repreſentation, ſtated in that preamble goes to the whole of Legiſlation as well as to Taxation. And that the Colonies 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 [52] our ſupreme authority, I anſwer, that the words are the words of Parliament, and not mine; and, that all falſe and inconcluſive inferences, drawn from them, are not mine; for I heartily diſ⯑claim any ſuch inference. I have choſen the words of an act of Parliament, which Mr. Grenville, 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 conſidered theſe preambles as de⯑claring ſtrongly in favour of his opinions. He was a no leſs pow⯑erful advocate 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 underſtood; favourable both to the rights of Parliament, 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 counties were de jure, or de facto, bound, the preambles do not accurately diſtinguiſh; nor indeed was it neceſſary; for, whether de jure, or de facto, the Le⯑giſlature thought the exerciſe of the power of taxing, as of right, or as of fact without right, equally a grievance and equally oppreſſive.

I do not know, that the Colonies have, in any general 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 diſpo⯑ſitions of any man, or any ſet of men, when they are compoſed and at reſt, from their conduct, or their expreſſions, in a ſtate of diſturbance and irritation. It is beſides a very great miſtake to imagine, that mankind follow up practically, any ſpeculative principle either of government, or of freedom, as far as it will go in ar⯑gument and logical illation. We Engliſhmen, ſtop very ſhort of the principles upon which we ſupport any given part of our con⯑ſtitution; or even the whole of it together. I could eaſily, if I had not already tired you, give you very ſtriking and convincing in⯑ſtances of it. This is nothing but what is natural and proper. All government, indeed every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue, and every prudent act, is founded on compromiſe and barter. We balance inconveniencies; we give and take; we remit ſome [53] rights, that we may enjoy others; and, we chuſe rather to be happy citizens, than ſubtle diſputants. As we muſt give away ſome natural liberty, to enjoy civil advantages; 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 immediate 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 intrinſic dignity of human nature. None of us who would not riſque his life, rather than fall under a government purely arbitrary. But, although there are ſome amongſt us who think our conſtitution wants many im⯑provements, 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 con⯑ſider 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 in⯑tereſt; and not on metaphyſical ſpeculations. Ariſtotle, the great maſter of reaſoning, cautions us, and with great weight and pro⯑priety, againſt 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 rather be inclined to reſpect the acts of a ſuperintending legiſlature; when they ſee them the acts of that power, which is itſelf the ſecurity, not the rival, of their ſecon⯑dary importance. In this aſſurance, my mind moſt perfectly ac⯑quieſces; and I confeſs, I feel not the leaſt alarm, from the diſ⯑contents 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.

[54] It is ſaid indeed, that this power of granting veſted in American aſſemblies, would diſſolve the unity of the empire; which was pre⯑ſerved, 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 conſti⯑tutional 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, le⯑giſlature; 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 com⯑mun [...]cation 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 circumſtances 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 un⯑derſtanding more united than it is now, or than it is likely to be by the preſent methods.

But ſince I ſpeak of theſe methods, I recollect, Mr. Speaker, al⯑moſt too late, that I promiſed, before I finiſhed, to ſay ſomething of the propoſition of the ^* 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 dif⯑ference 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 already debated that matter at large, when the queſtion 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; un⯑heard of; ſupported by no experience; juſtified by no analogy; without example of our anceſtors, or root in the conſtitution. It is neither regular parliamentary taxation, nor Colony grant. [55] Experimentum in corpore vili, is a good rule, which will ever make me adverſe to any trial of experiments 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 Colo⯑nies in the antichamber 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 our 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 govern⯑ments, according to the abſolute and the relative wealth of each, and according to the Britiſh proportion of wealth and burthen, 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 nothing further. For on what grounds can you deliberate either before or after the pro⯑poſition? You cannot hear the counſel for all theſe Provinces, quarrelling 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 con⯑ſent; you anſwer, that you will fix the ſum at which they ſhall be taxed. That is, you give them the very grievance for the re⯑medy. 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 [56] 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 uni⯑verſally accepted, will plunge you into great and inextricable diffi⯑culties. In what year of our Lord are the proportions of payments to be ſettled? To ſay nothing of the impoſſibility that Colony 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 con⯑ſtituents 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, perplexity, and confuſion, that never can have an end.

If all the Colonies do not appear at the outcry, what is the con⯑dition of thoſe aſſemblies, who offer, by themſelves or their agents, to tax themſelves up to your ideas of their proportion? The re⯑fractory Colonies, who refuſe all compoſition, will remain taxed only to your old impoſitions; which, however grievous in principle, are trifling as to production. 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 conſider 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 Maryland 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 pre⯑ſent you, with a clue, to lead you out of it? I think, Sir, it is impoſſible, that you ſhould not recollect that the Colony bounds are ſo implicated in one another (you know it by your other [57] experiments in the Bill for prohibiting the New-England fiſhery) that you can lay no poſſible reſtraints on almoſt any of them which may not be preſently eluded, if you do not confound the in⯑nocent with the guilty, and burthen thoſe whom upon every prin⯑ciple, you ought to exonerate. He muſt be groſly ignorant of America, who thinks, that, without falling into this confuſion of all rules of equity and policy, you can reſtrain any ſingle Colony, eſpecially Virginia and Maryland, the central, and moſt important of them all.

Let it alſo be conſidered, that, either in the preſent 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 Germany raiſes her revenue and her troops by quotas and con⯑tingents; but the revenue of the empire, and the army of the empire, is the worſt revenue, and the worſt army, in the world.

Inſtead of a ſtanding revenue, you will therefore have a per⯑petual quarrel. Indeed the noble Lord, who propoſed this pro⯑ject of a ranſom by auction, ſeemed himſelf to be of that opinion. His project was rather deſigned for breaking the union of the Colo⯑nies, 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. [58] But whatever his views may be; as I propoſe the peace and union 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; gratuitous, uncon⯑ditional, and not held out as matter of bargain and ſale. I have done my duty in propoſing it to you. I have indeed tired you by a long diſcourſe; but this is the misfortune of thoſe to whoſe in⯑fluence nothing will be conceded, and who muſt win every inch of their ground by argument. You have heard me with goodneſs. May you decide 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 alto⯑gether in future. I have this comfort, that in every ſtage 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: 2 ¼ ths. nor any other paltry limited 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 Commons, 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 [59] 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 function, 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, beſides the deſire which all men have naturally of ſupporting the honour of their own government; that ſenſe of dignity, and that ſecurity to property, which ever attends freedom, has a tendency to increaſe 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 uniformly 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 politick 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 contra⯑dictions, 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 abſolute power ill obeyed, becauſe odious, or by contracts ill kept, becauſe conſtrained; will be narrow, feeble, uncertain, and precarious. ‘"Eaſe would retract vows made in pain, as violent and void."’

I, for one, proteſt againſt compounding our demands: I declare againſt compounding, for a poor limited ſum, the immenſe, ever⯑growing, eternal Debt, which is due to generous Government from protected Freedom. And ſo may I ſpeed in the great object I pro⯑poſe 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 Co⯑lonies to a ſum certain, either in the way of ranſom, or in the way of compulſory compact.

[60] But to clear up my ideas on this ſubject—a revenue from America tranſmitted hither—do not delude yourſelves—you never can re⯑ceive 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 pro⯑duce wealth, it is India; or an inſtitution 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 revenue. But with regard to her own internal eſtabliſhments; ſhe may, I doubt not ſhe will, contribute 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 revenue, 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 com⯑mon 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 Government may be one thing, and their Privileges another; that theſe two things may exiſt without any 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 [61] 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 intereſt 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 par⯑ticipation of freedom, and you break that ſole bond, which origi⯑nally made, and muſt ſtill preſerve, the unity of the empire. Do not entertain ſo weak an imagination, as that your regiſters and your bonds, your affidavits and your ſufferances, 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 toge⯑ther 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 con⯑ſtitution, which, infuſed through the mighty maſs, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies, every part of the empire, even down to the minuteſt member.

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 revenue? 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 in⯑ſtitution, 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 profane 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 [62] empire, are not fit to turn a wheel in the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly taught, theſe ruling and maſter princi⯑ples, 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 politicks 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 order of Providence has called us. By advert⯑ing to the dignity of this high calling, our anceſtors have turned a ſavage wilderneſs into a glorious empire; 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 revenue as we have got an American empire. Engliſh privileges have made it all that it is; Engliſh privileges alone will make it all it can be. In full confi⯑dence of this unalterable truth, I now (quod felix fauſtumque fit)—lay the firſt ſtone of the Temple of Peace; and I move you,

‘"That the Colonies and Plantations of Great Britain in North America, conſiſting of Fourteen ſeparate governments, and contain⯑ing Two Millions and upwards of free inhabitants, have not had the liberty and privilege of electing and ſending any Knights and Bur⯑geſſes, or others, to repreſent them in the high Court of Parliament."’

Upon this Reſolution, the previous queſtion was put, and car⯑ried;—for the previous queſtion 270,—againſt it 78.

[63] As the Propoſitions were opened ſeparately in the body of the Speech, the Reader perhaps may wiſh to ſee the whole of them to⯑gether, in the form in which they were moved for.

MOVED,