“5thly: That it is the right of the subject to petition the King.

“6thly: That the raising or keeping a Standing Army within the Kingdom in time of peace, unless it be with consent of Parliament, is against law.

“7thly: That the subjects which are Protestants, may have arms for their defence, suitable to their conditions, and as allowed by law.

“13th: That for the redress of all grievances, and for the amending, strengthening, and preserving the laws, Parliament ought to be held frequently.”

These articles, with others, are declared, claimed, and asserted to be the true, ancient, and indubitable rights and liberties of the people of the Kingdom; and so ought to be esteemed, adjudged, allowed, and taken. Accordingly it was enacted by the King, Lords, and Commons, that this Bill should stand, remain, and be the law of the Realm forever. None of those Acts gave any new rights to the subject; they are only declarative of what were their un-resigned, inherent, ancient rights as Englishmen, as Britons. If, then, we are entitled to British liberties, we are entitled to all those rights, privileges, and securities which we have been surveying. These are the essential qualities; the first principles, and capital characteristicks of the British Government, the props and checks which have enabled it to stand so many ages the rude shocks of foreign invasions, domestick feuds, civil commotions, and of time itself; and would secure it from falling, but with the pillars of nature, were it not for the sappings of bribery and corruption at its roots, and the gnawings of ambition and avarice on its branches.

Therefore to enjoy the benefits resulting from the Revolution, the Bill of Rights, the English Laws, and the British Constitution, we can be taxed by no Assembly but our Provincial ones, in which we are represented; cannot be sent home for trial, according to a late law; can be dispossessed of our property only by the judgment of our Peers; can have Soldiers quartered upon us only by the consent of our General Courts, &c., &c., &c. This is the essence of the British Constitution. The appellations, Kings, Peers of the Realm, Knights of the Shire, &c., as well as Governours, Counsellors, and Representatives, are but secondary qualities, or mere formalities. The same Constitution in substance may appear under a thousand different forms, and the same valuable purposes be answered by them all. It is for the above substantial, rights that our patriots (whom America we trust will hail, as Rome did Cicero, the fathers and saviours of their country) have been arguing. It is in defence of these social blessings that they have sacrificed their ease, their health, and their wealth, and now stand, when the bolts are just ready to burst upon our heads.

We are next told: “If there be any grievance, it does not consist in being subject to the authority of Parliament, but in our not having an actual representation in it; and this is withheld by the first principles of Government, and the, immutable laws of nature.” That is, to speak plain English, if one community is oppressed by another, the grievance does not consist in the oppressive act, but in the want of a right to act in the manner which is oppressive; and if this right is withheld by the immutable laws of nature, or by God himself, who is the Author, of immutabilities in nature, these laws must be trampled upon and faulted, and the immaculate oppressor go free. Thus you see that grievances must be imputed to the God of Nature, and the rectitude of Heaven questioned, rather than the propriety and equity of ministerial measures disputed. The truth is, the grievance consists in being subject to the authority of a Parliament in which we are not and cannot be represented.

We are next presented with a passage from Governour Hutchinson’s letters, which were sent to solicit the vengeance of a Kingdom upon this unhappy Colony, and to drag down the resentments of an incensed Court upon individuals. I shall not at present dispute upon the merits or demerits of the characters and measures which were the subject matter of these letters. “There must be an abridgment of what is called English liberties, is the famous sentence which we are told has rung through the Continent. We have already seen what Locke, Montesquieu, Magna Charta, uncorrupted Parliaments, the fundamental laws, the Bill of Rights, the English Constitution, the Britons and the Americans call English liberties. These, these are the liberties that must be abridged. I have no fondness for aspersions and calumnies of any kind. This gentleman possesses, and has exercised, undoubtedly, in various departments, some amiable private virtues and useful accomplishments. But such have been his notorious principles and exertions in many instances of publick conduct, that it must give pain to a good mind to be acquainted with his political character. I forbear; for I would not bring a railing accusation against the Devil himself, were I, like Michael, brought to contend with him.

After saying it is for the interest of the Colonists to continue part of the British Empire, and their duty to remain subject to the authority of Parliament, both of which are favourite objects of their wishes, upon the good old plan, which the experience of a century has proved to be mutually beneficial; our declaimer, in the full career of rhetorical flourish, suffers, I believe, the real principles of his practice to escape him, perhaps unguardedly, which gives a key to his refined system of politicks: “After many more centuries,” says he, “have rolled away, long after they who are now building upon “the stage of life, shall have been, received to the bosom of mother earth, the Colonies may have the balance of wealth, numbers, and power in their favour, and some future George may cross the Atlantick and rule Great Britain by an American Parliament.” A most sublime, scheme of Parliament! Unexceptionable principles of policy! The wealthy are to oppress and grind the faces of the comparatively indigent; the many to enslave the few; the powerful to tyrannize over the impotent; the great to devour the small; the strong the weak; and Great Britain, in her turn, to become the slaves of America, the longest sword being the great charter of liberties, and the invaluable standard, of right and wrong. Is justice, is equity, are the rights of man kind such transportable wares, such floating machines? Are there no fixed, eternal, and immutable principles of political truth and social justice, notwithstanding the acute efforts of some moderns to explain them away, which can not be violated, but by the imputation of guilt? guilt of the blackest dye, which will sooner or later fall with crushing weight on the culprit’s head. Can the splendour of wealth always dazzle the eye of reason, or the intoxicating fumes of undelegated power steel the heart against the stings and lashes of natural conscience? Can superiority of numbers alter the laws of nature, and annihilate the never-failing principles of strict justice? Can the longest sword sooth the clamours and twingings of a wounded spirit, or be plead in justification at the bar of an offended God? We are told by the poets, that the guilty are driven about and haunted by the burning torches of the furies. Presumptuous guilt is the fury, says Cicero, that torments; an evil conscience the phrensy that rages; and stinging reflection the terrour that distracts. These, these are the incessant bosom fiends that haunt the guilty, that harrow up their souls, and will day and night avenge the injuries and oppressions of innocent sufferers.

Let me ask our courtly-tongue pad if he really thinks Great Britain, for centuries yet to come, will be such proficients in his sublime philosophy as to set supinely at ease and see herself stripped of her most valuable rights; rights, in defence of which she has been often arrayed in armour and in blood. Would she petition an American Parliament for redress of grievances? Would she acknowledge the right of deprivation, so long as there was one man existing on the Island? Would not every drop of English blood boil into a fury? Would not every spark of British spirit kindle into a flame? Would it not Burst, forth like a conflagration, and sweep with the besom of destruction the laws enacted in an American Parliament, and their executors, off the stage of entities?

My abused, wretchedly abused countrymen, whilst we are complaining of injuries and oppressions from others, let us see to it that we keep good consciences void of offence ourselves; Let us injure no man’s person or property; cautiously guard against all outrages, riots, mobs, or irregular and unnecessary risings, which the adversaries to the common cause may artfully attempt to lead or provoke us into. The cause we are engaged in is of too much dignity to be sullied by rashness, too important, too seriously important,