that she was not to be dreaded; that she had neither men nor money; that there was more money in the Colonies than in England; that, if she should resent it, the Colonies would not pay her the millions that were due to her. Not content with this insult, the General Assembly disavowed any observance of Acts of Parliament. Great Britain, with her usual lenity, pitied our infatuation, till she was, at last, forced to send troops to support civil Government; those troops we were then to destroy, and we did our best to destroy them, but felt the fatal consequence of the attempt. Our violence at last rose to such a height, that injured sovereignty and an insulted Government have been roused to assert their authority, in order to curb as wanton and wicked a rebellion as ever raged in any Government upon earth.

Thus, my countrymen, I have very shortly stated to you, the rise and progress of the present rebellion. I believe that many, if not most of you, were insensible of the ambitious views of your leaders. I do not think that you were so devoid of virtue as to rush into so horrid a crime at one leap; for, let me tell you, that it is the highest crime that a member of society can be guilty of, and the punishment annexed to it is nothing less than a forfeiture of estate and life. Your leaders have deceived you into what they do not believe themselves; they were desperate themselves, and they have involved you in their own just doom. They tell you your properties and religion are at stake: your ministers tell you so too; and I know that you are too apt to take all they say for gospel. But pray, what danger is your religion in? Why, it is said, that Popery is established in Canada, and will be established here. No, my countrymen! Popery is not established in Canada, let your teachers and leaders assert it never so roundly; it is only indulged to the Roman Catholicks there. Your Continental Congress says God and nature have given them a right to the enjoyment of their religion; it is what they capitulated for with General Amherst; it is what the just, the humane King George the Third, confirmed to them. This is the King whom you so lately professed allegiance to, in opposition to the Parliament; not considering that it was by acts of Parliament that the Crown was placed upon his head, and on the heads of his predecessors. It seems, indeed, that your leaders have more lately found out that it is necessary to deny the authority of the King, as they have been daring in denying that of his Parliament. Witness their late Thanksgiving Proclamation, which concludes with a "God save the People," instead of the heretofore invariable "God save the King." Will it not suffice your leaders to mock the King, but they must mock Heaven also? Read it over; view the cloven foot of one of your spiritual guides peeping out, whose pen fabricated the mockery, and whose foot has many a time trod the recesses of rebellion with the cabal, and I dare to say, that had it not been for his mole-like, underground cunning and priestcraft, that this, once over-happy, but now miserably distracted Province, had not been so soon involved in distress.

I would ask you, also, my countrymen, how your properties are at stake? You will, doubtless, tell me, that acts of Parliament have been made to oblige you to pay duties upon various articles. Be it so. Why then do you purchase articles that are to pay duties? Why then did you not petition, in a constitutional manner, to have those acts repealed? The British Parliament never assumed to themselves infallibility; and many a time have they repealed American acts, when they have been convinced that the enforcement of them was incompatible with the mutual interest. It is true, your leaders did petition; but in such an unconstitutional manner, that it was below the dignity, and contrary to the system of the English Government, to hear such petitions; and this your leaders knew must be the fate of them; and this method they planned, in order to effect their independence, and make themselves of that importance to you which they now appear in. But you can have no just plea for entering so deeply into opposition against the parent state. You may know, if you please, that King Charles the First granted to our ancestors a charter; you may call it a compact, if you please, too; and, if it be so, the argument will be much against you; for in that you compacted to pay duties after a short term of years, and you have been fulfilling your compact by paying duties for above an hundred years past; till of late, the scandalous smuggling business reared its front against the laws, and brought the state into its present distraction. You have been told, also, that your land was to be taxed, and that you were to be brought into Lordships. This, I know, hath been artfully propagated among you, and I dare assert it to be groundless. There is too much justice and benignity in the English Government to advance such a scheme; and, supposing that they had it in their idea to do it, so violent an opposition ought to have been suspended, at least, till the scheme had been brought into action; it is like one man's cutting another's throat, lest the other might possibly injure his grandchildren.

I am loath to detain you any longer, my countrymen, from sober reflection. For God's sake, for your own sakes, for your wives' and children's sake, pause a moment, and weigh the event of this unnatural civil war. You have roused the British Lion; you have incensed that Power which hath crushed much greater Powers than you can boast of, and hath done it without your aid too. Great Britain is not so distressed for men or money as some would make you believe. Your conduct hath raised the resentment of the greatest Powers in Europe, and she may, if she pleases, accept of their proffered aid. But your priests and your leaders tell you otherwise; and I will just put the case, that, supposing Heaven in righteous judgment, should suffer you to conquer; look forward then to the fatal consequences of your conquest. You will be conquered by an army of your own raising; and then your dreaded slavery is fixed; the ambition and desperation of your leaders will then demand the fruit of all their toils. Turn back a few pages of the English history; read the account of the civil wars of the last century; and view the triumph, and absolute sway of that tyrant Cromwell; he, like some of your leaders, began with humoring the enthusiasm of the times, and ended the parricide of his country. Let me suppose again, as you vainly imagine, that this will not be the case, and that when you have conquered, you will then beat all your swords into ploughshares; how long do you think it will be before you are obliged to change sides, and beat your ploughshares into swords again? You will then have twelve or fourteen Colonies to form into an independent empire. Where then is to be the seat of empire? Surely the Massachusetts-Bay hath the best title to precedence; they begun the rebellion, and they have the best title to reward. Do you think that the other Colonies cannot furnish as artful demagogues as this Province can? Do not imagine that we are the men, and that wisdom is to die with us. We shall be cantoned out into petty States; we shall be involved in perpetual wars, for an inch or two of ground; our fertile fields will be deluged with blood; our wives and children be involved in the horrid scene; foreign Powers will step in and share in the plunder that remains, and those who are left to tell the story will be reduced to a more abject slavery than that which you now dread. The Colonies are too jealous of each other to remain long in a state of friendship.

I will now, my fellow-citizens, change the scene, to a more eligible view for your interest, and suppose it possible, (though you do not think it so,) that Great Britain can conquer you, and that, instead of being victors, you may be subjects again. You will then have the mildest Government to live under—a Government to be envied by the rest of mankind, and whose only unhappiness is, that it is too apt to abuse that liberty which God and the Constitution, hath blessed it with. She hath been loath to call you conquered; she hath, like an over fond parent, indulged your peevishness, and withheld her resentment until she hath felt the smart of her indulgence; she is now roused, but her resentment is tempered with mildness. He whom you formerly acknowledged for your Sovereign, drops the tear of pity for you, in his late speech from the Throne—a speech so attempered with paternal pity, Royal firmness of mind, and sentiment of dignity, as distinguishes the speaker as the father of his country, and the ornament of human nature. Clemency he is distinguished for; he is revered for his humanity; but his soul is impressed with too much magnanimity to suffer his laws, and the rights of his subjects, to be trampled under the foot of rebellion; he holds out the sceptre of mercy, that bright gem of his Royal dignity, for you to embrace; but if you choose to kiss the rod of his justice, be you yourselves witnesses that it is not his choice.