The experience of more than one hundred years will surely be deemed, by wise men, to have some weight in the scale of evidence to support our opinion. We might justly ask of her, why we are not permitted to go on as we have been used to do since our existence, conferring mutual benefits, thereby strengthening each other, more and more, discovering the reciprocal advantages of our connection, and daily cultivating affections encouraged by those advantages?
What unknown offences have we committed against her within these ten years, to provoke such an unexampled change in her conduct towards us? In the last war she acknowledged us repeatedly to be faithful, dutiful, zealous, and useful in her cause. Is it criminal in us that our numbers, by the favour of Divine Providence, have greatly increased? That the poor choose to fly from their native countries in Europe to this Continent? Or, that we have so much improved these woods, that if we can be forced into an unsuccessful resistance, avarice itself might be satiated with our forfeitures?
It cannot with truth be urged, that projects of innovation have commenced with us. Facts and their dates prove the contrary.* Not a disturbance has happened on any part of this Continent, but in consequence of some immediate preceding provocation.
To what purpose? The charge of our affecting one great or many small Republicks, must appear as contemptible a madness to her, as it does to us. Divided as we are into many Provinces, † and incapable of union, except against a common danger, she knew, that we could not think of embarking our treasures of tranquillity and liberty, on an ocean of blood, in a wandering expedition to some Utopian port. The history of mankind, from the remotest antiquity, furnishes not a single instance of a people consisting of husbandmen and merchants, voluntarily engaging
* "The winds lift up the waves,"—said a wise man—yet we read of a weak man who scourged waves, but he had not raised them. To excite commotions, and then to scourge for being excited, is an addition to the wildness of a Xerxes, reserved more particularly to distinguish the present age, already sufficiently illustrious by that injuries offered to the rights of human nature.
† The genius of a Beccaria suggested to him the condition of a large Empire verging into servitude—the only plan for saving it—and the difficulty of executing that plan. "An overgrown Republick" says he, and such a limited Monarchy as that of Great Britain with such an extent of Dominions, may well be called "an overgrown Republick," "can only be saved from despotism by subdividing it into a number of confederate Republicks. But how is this practicable? By a despotick dictator, who with the courage of Sylla, has as much genius for building up as that Roman had for pulling down. If he be an ambitious mm, his reward will be immortal glory; if a phylosopher, the blessings of his fellow-citizens will sufficiently console him for the loss of authority, though he should not be insensible to their ingratitude."
What was argument in Italy, is reality to Great Britain, with this additional circumstance in her favour, that she must always continue, if she wisely conducts her affairs, though less than all, yet greater than any. The immense advantages of such a situation are worthy the closest attention of every Briton. To a man, who has considered them with that attention, perhaps it will not appear too bold to aver, that, if an archangel had planned the connection between Great Britain and her Colonies, he could not have fixed it on a more lasting and beneficial foundation, unless he could have changed human nature. A mighty naval power at the head of the whole—that power, a parent state, with all the endearing sentiments attending the relationship, that never could disoblige, but with design—the dependent states much more apt to have feuds among themselves—she the umpire and controller—those states producing every article necessary to her greatness—their interest, that she should continue free and flourishing—their ability to throw a considerable weight into the scale, should her Government get unduly poised—she and those states Protestant—are some of the circumstances, that, delineated by the masterly hand of a Beccaria, would exhibit a plan vindicating the ways of Heaven, and demonstrating that humanity and policy are nearly related. An Alexander, a CÆsar, a Charles, a Lewis, and others, have fought through fields of blood for universal empire. Great Britain has a certainty, by population and commerce alone, of attaining to the most astonishing and well founded power the world ever saw. The circumstances of her situation are new and striking. Heaven has offered to her glory and prosperity without measure. Her wise Ministers disdain to accept them, and prefer "a pepper-corn."*
So directly opposite to the interest of Great Britain has the conduct of Administration been for some time past, that it may safely be affirmed, that, if their view was to establish arbitrary power over Great Britain, schemes more dangerous could not have been laid. To profess this purpose would ensure a defeat. Any man, who had ouch a design, would first take this opportunity of peace to set one part of the subject against the other. This might be done in the following manner:
Let every session of Parliament produce a fresh injury. Give no rest, or hope of rest. Lot insult added to insult fill up the vacancies between the sessions. Tease and persecute into opposition. Then let Ministers themselves rejoice in the freedom of the press. Let every action of the oppressed be exaggerated. Lot innumerable false invectives be vented in pamphlets and newspapers. Let all the provocations and excuses be concealed from publick sight as much as possible. Load the devoted with the terms of traitors and rebels. Nearly in this way Scotland was treated by the arbitrary Ministry of Charles the First. But the Parliament and people of England had common sense and virtue. The base deception could not pass upon them. They saw the snare laid for them, and resented it so deeply, that an army of Englishmen fled before an army of Scotchmen at Newburn, For once it was glorious to fly. But it required English heads and English hearts to understand and to act the part.
Thus the Colonies have been treated. At last a civil war may be worked up. It should be considered, as Lord Mansfield expresses it, whether "the play is worth the candle." In such a war, every victory will be a defeat. If the Colonies are subdued, vast sums must be raised, and a prodigious army must be supported, to keep them in subjection. Great Britain must feel the weight of that influence, added to the power of the Crown. The Colonies are increasing. Who can compute the extent and effect of such an influence?* Undone by her victories, she must resign her liberty, or some future monarch with her Colonies, unless she first loses them in another way. If she is unfortunate, publick calamities may make great changes. Such changes seem to be intended by some men. Great Britain has been led into the Rubicon. She has not yet passed it. We consider the hostilities already practised, as the manÆuvres of a Ministerial war. We know the machinations formed against us, and the favourite publications industriously spread abroad, to excite a, jealousy of us among our British brethren. We know how acceptable to many an earthquake would be to "sink some of the Colonies in the ocean;" and how pleasing to employ the rest "in raising staple commodities;" that we are thought "too numerous," and how much it would be judged by some for the interest of Great Britain if a pestilence should sweep off a million and a half of us. These wonderful lucubrations have not escaped us. But here we are, by Divine Providence, three millions of souls. What can be done with us? If we were to be considered only as† Protestant allies, we ought to be esteemed by a wise people. Such a people certainly would not be careful to disunite us from their interest—to make us foes when they might have us friends. Some states have thought it true policy to grant greater indulgencies to remote dominions, than were enjoyed by themselves; and this policy has been much applauded. The enjoyment of valuable privileges by inferiour states, under the protection of a superiour, is the strongest bond of dependence. Why should we prefer a dependence on Great Britain to a dependence on France, if we enjoy less freedom under the former, than we may under the latter? "Firmissimum imperium, quo obedientes gaudent," or, as Lord Chief Justice Coke expresses it, in his comment on the 25th of Edward the Third, "The state of a King standeth more assured by the "love and favour of the subject, than by the dread and fear of laws," &c.‡ Ought Great Britain to despise the advantages she actually
* Mr. Nugent's Speech.
* "But, on the other hand, it is to be considered, that every Prince, in the first Parliament after his accession, has, by long usage, a truly royal addition to his hereditary revenue settled upon him for his life; and has never any occasion To apply to Parliament for supplies, but upon some publick necessity of the whole Realm. This restores lo hint that constitutional independence which at his first accession seems, it must be owned, to be wanting. And then, with repaid to power, we may find, perhaps, that the hands of Government are at least sufficiently strengthened; and that an English Monarch is now in no danger of being overborne by either the nobility or the people. The instruments of power are not perhaps so open and avowed as they formerly were, and therefore are the less liable to jealous and invidious reflections; but they are not the weaker upon that account. In short, our national debt and taxes (besides the inconveniences before mentioned) have also, in their natural consequences, thrown such a weight of power into the Executive scale of Government, as we cannot think was intended by our patriot ancestors; who gloriously struggled for the abolition of the then formidable parts of the prerogative, and by an unaccountable want of foresight established this system in their stead. The entire collection and management of so vast a revenue being placed in the hands of the Crown, have given rise to such a multitude of new officers, created by, and their numerous subalterns, in every inland district; the Postmasters, and their servants, planted in every town, and upon every publick road; the Commissioners of the Stamps and their distributors, which are full as scattered and full as numerous; the officer of the Salt Duty, which, though a species of excise, and conducted in the same manner, are yet made a distinct corps from the ordinary managers of that revenue; the Surveyors of Houses and Windows; the Receivers of the Land Tax the Managers of Lotteries, and the Commissioners of Hackney Coaches; all which are either mediately or immediately appointed by the Crown, and removeable at pleasure without any reason assigned. These, it requires but little penetration to see, must give that power, on which they depend for subsistence, an influence most amazingly extensive. To this may he added the frequent opportunities of conferring particular obligations, by preference in loans, subscriptions, tickets, remittances, and other money transactions, which will greatly increase this influence; and that over those persons whose attachment, on account of their wealth, is frequently the most desirable. All this is the natural, though perhaps the unforeseen, consequence of erecting our funds of credit, and to support them establishing our present perpetual taxes; the whole of which is entirely new since the Restoration in 1660; and by far the greatest part since the Revolution in 1688. And the same may be said with regard to the officers in our numerous army, and the places which the army has created. All which put together gives the Executive power so persuasive an energy with respect to the persons themselves, and so prevailing an interest with their friends and families, as will amply make amends for the loss of external prerogative.
"But, though this profusion of offices should have no effect on individuals, there is still another newly-acquired branch of power; and that is, not the influence only, but the force of a disciplined army; paid, indeed, ultimately by the people, but immediately by the Crown; raised by the Crown, officered by the Crown, commanded by the Crown. They are kept on foot, it is true, only from year to year, and that by the power of Parliament; but during that year they must, by the nature of our Constitution, if raised at all, beat the absolute disposal of the Crown. And there need but few words to demonstrate how great a trust is thereby reposed in the Prince by his people. A trust that is more than equivalent to a thousand little troublesome prerogatives.
"Add to all this, that, besides the civil list, the immense revering of almost seven millions sterling, which is annually paid to the creditors of the publick, or carried to the sinking fund is first deposited in the Royal Exchequer, and thence issued out to the respective offices of payment. This revenue the people can never refuse to raise, because it is made perpetual by Act of Parliament; which also, when considered, will appear to be a trust of great delicacy and high importance."—1 Blackstone's Com. b. 1, ch. 8, p. 334—336.
† Great Britain put herself to a very considerable expense last war in defence of Portugal, because that Kingdom was her ally, and she derived great advantages from an intercourse with her. But what are those advantages, or the affections arising from them, when compared to the advantages and affections that connect these Colonies with Great Britain? Words cannot express the surprise, that men five from passion must feel cm considering her impolicy in labouring to disjoin from herself the only true friends she has in the world. If her Ministers were pensioners of France and Spain, they could not pursue measures more pleasing and advantageous to those Kingdoms.
‡ "During all our happy days of concord, partly from our national moderation, and partly from the wisdom, and sometimes perhaps from the carelessness of our Ministers, they have been trusted, in a good measure, with the entire management of their affairs; and the success they have met with ought to be to us an ever-memorable proof, that the true art of Government consists in not governing too much. And why should friendship, and gratitude, and long attachments, which inspire all the relish and sweetness of private life, be supposed to be of no weight in the intercourse between great communities? These are principles of human nature, which act with much greater certainty on numbers than on individuals. If properly cultivated they may to us be productive of the noblest benefits; and, at all events, will neither lessen the extent of our power, nor shorten the duration of it."—Bishop cf St, Asaph's Sermon, p. 13.
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