It is not without the most humiliating conviction of my want of ability
that I now appear before you; but the sense I have of the obligation I
am under to obey the calls of my country at all times, together with an
animating recollection of your indulgence, exhibited upon so many
occasions, has induced me, once more, undeserving as I am, to throw
myself upon that candor which looks with kindness on the feeblest
efforts of an honest mind.
You will not now expect the elegance, the learning, the fire, the
enrapturing strains of eloquence which charmed you when a LOVELL, a
CHURCH, or a HANCOCK spake; but you will permit me to say, that with a
sincerity, equal to theirs, I mourn over my bleeding country: with them
I weep at her distress, and with them deeply resent the many injuries
she has received from the hands of cruel and unreasonable men.
That personal freedom is the natural right of every man; and that
property, or an exclusive right to dispose of what he has honestly
acquired by his own labor, necessarily arises therefrom, are truths
which common sense has placed beyond the reach of contradiction. And no
man, or body of men can, without being guilty of flagrant injustice,
claim a right to dispose of the persons or acquisitions of any other
man, or body of men, unless it can be proved that such a right has
arisen from some compact between the parties in which it has been
explicitly and freely granted.
If I may be indulged in taking a retrospective view of the first
settlement of our country, it will be easy to determine with what degree
of justice the late Parliament of Great Britain have assumed the power
of giving away that property which the Americans have earned by their
labor.
Our fathers having nobly resolved never to wear the yoke of despotism,
and seeing the European world, at that time, through indolence and
cowardice, falling a prey to tyranny, bravely threw themselves upon the
bosom of the ocean, determined to find a place in which they might enjoy
their freedom, or perish in the glorious attempt. Approving Heaven
beheld the favorite ark dancing upon the waves, and graciously preserved
it until the chosen families were brought in safety to these western
regions. They found the land swarming with savages, who threatened death
with every kind of torture. But savages, and death with torture, were
far less terrible than slavery: nothing was so much the object of their
abhorrence as a tyrant's power: they knew that it was more safe to dwell
with man in his most unpolished state, than in a country where arbitrary
power prevails. Even anarchy itself, that bugbear held up by the tools
of power, (though truly to be deprecated) is infinitely less dangerous
to mankind than arbitrary government. Anarchy can be but of short
duration; for when men are at liberty to pursue that course which is
most conducive to their own happiness, they will soon come into it, and
from the rudest state of nature, order and good government must soon
arise. But tyranny, when once established, entails its curses on a
nation to the latest period of time; unless some daring genius, inspired
by Heaven, shall, unappalled by danger, bravely form and execute the
arduous design of restoring liberty and life to his enslaved, murdered
country.
The tools of power, in every age, have racked their inventions to
justify the few in sporting with the happiness of the many; and, having
found their sophistry too weak to hold mankind in bondage, have
impiously dared to force religion, the daughter of the king of heaven,
to become a prostitute in the service of hell. They taught that princes,
honored with the name of Christian, might bid defiance to the founder of
their faith, might pillage Pagan countries and deluge them with blood,
only because they boasted themselves to be the disciples of that teacher
who strictly charged his followers to do to others as they would that
others should do unto them.
This country, having been discovered by an English subject, in the year
1620, was (according to the system which the blind superstition of
those times supported) deemed the property of the crown of England. Our
ancestors, when they resolved to quit their native soil, obtained from
king James, a grant of certain lands in North America. This they
probably did to silence the cavils of their enemies, for it cannot be
doubted, but they despised the pretended right which he claimed thereto.
Certain it is, that he might, with equal propriety and justice, have
made them a grant of the planet Jupiter. And their subsequent conduct
plainly shows that they were too well acquainted with humanity, and the
principles of natural equity, to suppose that the grant gave them any
right to take possession; they, therefore, entered into a treaty with
the natives, and bought from them the lands: nor have I ever yet
obtained any information that our ancestors ever pleaded, or that the
natives ever regarded the grant from the English crown: the business was
transacted by the parties in the same independent manner that it would
have been, had neither of them ever known or heard of the island of
Great Britain.
Having become the honest proprietors of the soil, they immediately
applied themselves to the cultivation of it; and they soon beheld the
virgin earth teeming with richest fruits, a grateful recompense for
their unwearied toil. The fields began to wave with ripening harvests,
and the late barren wilderness was seen to blossom like the rose. The
savage natives saw with wonder the delightful change, and quickly formed
a scheme to obtain that by fraud or force, which nature meant as the
reward of industry alone. But the illustrious emigrants soon convinced
the rude invaders, that they were not less ready to take the field for
battle than for labor: and the insidious foe was driven from their
borders as often as he ventured to disturb them. The crown of England
looked with indifference on the contest; our ancestors were left alone
to combat with the natives. Nor is there any reason to believe, that it
ever was intended by the one party, or expected by the other, that the
grantor should defend and maintain the grantees in the peaceable
possession of the lands named in the patents. And it appears plainly,
from the history of those times, that neither the prince, nor the people
of England, thought themselves much interested in the matter. They had
not then any idea of a thousandth part of those advantages which they
since have, and we are most heartily willing they should continue to
reap from us.
But when, at an infinite expense of toil and blood, this widely extended
continent had been cultivated and defended: when the hardy adventurers
justly expected that they and their descendants should peaceably have
enjoyed the harvest of those fields which they had sown, and the fruit
of those vineyards which they had planted; this country was then thought
worthy the attention of the British ministry; and the only justifiable
and only successful means of rendering the Colonies serviceable to
Britain were adopted. By an intercourse of friendly offices, the two
countries became so united in affection, that they thought not of any
distinct or separate interests, they found both countries flourishing
and happy. Britain saw her commerce extended, and her wealth increased;
her lands raised to an immense value; her fleets riding triumphant on
the ocean; the terror of her arms spreading to every quarter of the
globe. The Colonist found himself free, and thought himself secure; he
dwelt under his own vine, and under his own fig-tree, and had none to
make him afraid: he knew, indeed, that by purchasing the manufactures
of Great Britain, he contributed to its greatness: he knew that all the
wealth that his labor produced centered in Great Britain: but that, far
from exciting his envy, filled him with the highest pleasure; that
thought supported him in all his toils. When the business of the day was
past, he solaced himself with the contemplation, or perhaps entertained
his listening family with the recital of some great, some glorious
transaction which shines conspicuous in the history of Britain: or,
perhaps, his elevated fancy led him to foretell, with a kind of
enthusiastic confidence, the glory, power, and duration of an empire
which should extend from one end of the earth to the other: he saw, or
thought he saw, the British nation risen to a pitch of grandeur which
cast a veil over the Roman glory, and, ravished with the preview,
boasted a race of British kings, whose names should echo through those
realms where Cyrus, Alexander, and the C├Žsars were unknown; princes for
whom millions of grateful subjects redeemed from slavery and Pagan
ignorance, should, with thankful tongues, offer up their prayers and
praises to that transcendently great and beneficent Being, by whom kings
reign, and princes decree justice.
These pleasing connexions might have continued; these delightsome
prospects might have been every day extended; and even the reveries of
the most warm imagination might have been realized; but unhappily for
us, unhappily for Britain, the madness of an avaricious minister of
state, has drawn a sable curtain over the charming scene, and in its
stead, has brought upon the stage, discord, envy, hatred, and revenge,
with civil war close in their rear.
Some demon, in an evil hour, suggested to a short-sighted financier, the
hateful project of transferring the whole property of the king's
subjects in America, to his subjects in Britain. The claim of the
British Parliament to tax the Colonies, can never be supported by such a
TRANSFER; for the right of the House of Commons of Great Britain, to
originate any tax, or grant money, is altogether derived from their
being elected by the people of Great Britain to act for them; and the
people of Great Britain cannot confer on their representatives a right
to give or grant any thing which they themselves have not a right to
give or grant personally. Therefore, it follows, that if the members
chosen by the people of Great Britain, to represent them in Parliament,
have, by virtue of their being so chosen, any right to give or grant
American property, or to lay any tax upon the lands or persons of the
Colonists, it is because the lands and people in the Colonies are bona
fide, owned by, and justly belonging to the people of Great Britain.
But, (as has been before observed,) every man has a right to personal
freedom, consequently, a right to enjoy what is acquired by his own
labor. And as it is evident that the property in this country has been
acquired by our own labor, it is the duty of the people of Great
Britain, to produce some compact in which we have explicitly given up to
them a right to dispose of our persons or property. Until this is done,
every attempt of theirs, or of those whom they have deputed to act for
them, to give or grant any part of our property, is directly repugnant
to every principle of reason and natural justice. But I may boldly say,
that such a compact never existed, no, not even in imagination.
Nevertheless, the representatives of a nation, long famed for justice
and the exercise of every noble virtue, have been prevailed on to adopt
the fatal scheme: and although the dreadful consequences of this wicked
policy have already shaken the empire to its centre; yet still it is
persisted in. Regardless of the voice of reason, deaf to the prayers
and supplications, and unaffected with the flowing tears of suffering
millions, the British ministry still hug the darling idol; and every
rolling year affords fresh instances of the absurd devotion with which
they worship it. Alas! how has the folly, the distraction of the British
councils, blasted our swelling hopes, and spread a gloom over this
western hemisphere.
The hearts of Britons and Americans, which lately felt the generous glow
of mutual confidence and love, now burn with jealousy and rage. Though,
but of yesterday, I recollect (deeply affected at the ill boding change)
the happy hours that past whilst Britain and America rejoiced in the
prosperity and greatness of each other, (Heaven grant those halcyon days
may soon return.) But now the Briton too often looks on the American
with an envious eye, taught to consider his just plea for the enjoyment
of his earnings, as the effect of pride and stubborn opposition to the
parent country. Whilst the American beholds the Briton as the ruffian,
ready first to take away his property, and next, what is still dearer to
every virtuous man, the liberty of his country.
When the measures of administration had disgusted the Colonies to the
highest degree, and the people of Great Britain had, by artifice and
falsehood, been irritated against America, an army was sent over to
enforce submission to certain acts of the British Parliament, which
reason scorned to countenance, and which placemen and pensioners were
found unable to support.
Martial law and the government of a well regulated city, are so entirely
different, that it has always been considered as improper to quarter
troops in populous cities: frequent disputes must necessarily arise
between the citizen and the soldier, even if no previous animosities
subsist. And it is further certain, from a consideration of the nature
of mankind, as well as from constant experience, that standing armies
always endanger the liberty of the subject. But when the people, on the
one part, considered the army as sent to enslave them, and the army, on
the other, were taught to look on the people as in a state of rebellion,
it was but just to fear the most disagreeable consequences. Our fears,
we have seen, were but too well grounded.
The many injuries offered to the town, I pass over in silence. I cannot
now mark out the path which led to that unequalled scene of horror, the
sad remembrance of which, takes the full possession of my soul. The
sanguinary theatre again opens itself to view. The baleful images of
terror crowd around me, and discontented ghosts, with hollow groans,
appear to solemnize the anniversary of the FIFTH OF MARCH.
Approach we then the melancholy walk of death. Hither let me call the
gay companion; here let him drop a farewell tear upon that body which so
late he saw vigorous and warm with social mirth; hither let me lead the
tender mother to weep over her beloved son: come, widowed mourner, here
satiate thy grief; behold thy murdered husband gasping on the ground,
and to complete the pompous show of wretchedness, bring in each hand thy
infant children to bewail their father's fate: take heed, ye orphan
babes, lest, whilst your streaming eyes are fixed upon the ghastly
corpse, your feet slide on the stones bespattered with your father's
brains.[4] Enough! this tragedy need not be heightened by an infant
weltering in the blood of him that gave it birth. Nature, reluctant,
shrinks already from the view, and the chilled blood rolls slowly
backward to its fountain. We wildly stare about, and with amazement,
ask, who spread this ruin round us? What wretch has dared deface the
image of his God? Has haughty France, or cruel Spain, sent forth her
myrmidons? Has the grim savage rushed again from the far distant
wilderness? Or does some fiend, fierce from the depth of hell, with all
the rancorous malice, which the apostate damned can feel, twang her
destructive bow, and hurl her deadly arrows at our breast? No, none of
these; but, how astonishing! It is the hand of Britain that inflicts the
wound. The arms of George, our rightful king, have been employed to shed
that blood, when justice, or the honor of his crown, had called his
subjects to the field.
But pity, grief, astonishment, with all the softer movements of the
soul, must now give way to stronger passions. Say, fellow citizens, what
dreadful thought now swells your heaving bosoms; you fly to arms, sharp
indignation flashes from each eye, revenge gnashes her iron teeth,
death grins an hideous smile, secure to drench his greedy jaws in human
gore, whilst hovering furies darken all the air.
But stop, my bold adventurous countrymen, stain not your weapons with
the blood of Britons. Attend to reason's voice, humanity puts in her
claim, and sues to be again admitted to her wonted seat, the bosom of
the brave. Revenge is far beneath the noble mind. Many, perhaps,
compelled to rank among the vile assassins, do, from their inmost souls,
detest the barbarous action. The winged death, shot from your arms, may
chance to pierce some breast that bleeds already for your injured
country.
The storm subsides; a solemn pause ensues; you spare, upon condition
they depart. They go; they quit your city; they no more shall give
offence. Thus closes the important drama.
And could it have been conceived that we again should have seen a
British army in our land, sent to enforce obedience to acts of
Parliament destructive of our liberty. But the royal ear, far distant
from this western world, has been assaulted by the tongue of slander;
and villains, traitorous alike to king and country, have prevailed upon
a gracious prince to clothe his countenance with wrath, and to erect the
hostile banner against a people ever affectionate and loyal to him and
his illustrious predecessors of the house of Hanover. Our streets are
again filled with armed men; our harbor is crowded with ships of war;
but these cannot intimidate us; our liberty must be preserved; it is far
dearer than life, we hold it even dear as our allegiance; we must defend
it against the attacks of friends as well as enemies; we cannot suffer
even Britons to ravish it from us.
No longer could we reflect, with generous pride, on the heroic actions
of our American forefathers, no longer boast our origin from that far
famed island, whose warlike sons have so often drawn their well tried
swords to save her from the ravages of tyranny; could we, but for a
moment, entertain the thought of giving up our liberty. The man who
meanly will submit to wear a shackle, contemns the noblest gift of
Heaven, and impiously affronts the God that made him free.
It was a maxim of the Roman people, which eminently conduced to the
greatness of that state, never to despair of the commonwealth. The
maxim may prove as salutary to us now, as it did to them. Short-sighted
mortals see not the numerous links of small and great events, which form
the chain on which the fate of kings and nations is suspended. Ease and
prosperity (though pleasing for a day) have often sunk a people into
effeminacy and sloth. Hardships and dangers (though we forever strive to
shun them) have frequently called forth such virtues, as have commanded
the applause and reverence of an admiring world. Our country loudly
calls you to be circumspect, vigilant, active, and brave. Perhaps, (all
gracious Heaven avert it) perhaps the power of Britain, a nation great
in war, by some malignant influence, may be employed to enslave you: but
let not even this discourage you. Her arms, it is true, have filled the
world with terror: her troops have reaped the laurels of the field: her
fleets have rode triumphant on the sea--and when, or where, did you, my
countrymen, depart inglorious from the field of fight?[5] You, too, can
show the trophies of your forefather's victories and your own; can name
the fortresses and battles you have won; and many of you count the
honorable scars or wounds received, whilst fighting for your king and
country.
Where justice is the standard, Heaven is the warrior's shield: but
conscious guilt unnerves the arm that lifts the sword against the
innocent. Britain, united with these Colonies by commerce and affection,
by interest and blood, may mock the threats of France and Spain; may be
the seat of universal empire. But should America, either by force, or
those more dangerous engines, luxury and corruption, ever be brought
into a state of vassalage, Britain must lose her freedom also. No longer
shall she sit the empress of the sea: her ships no more shall waft her
thunders over the wide ocean: the wreath shall wither on her temples:
her weakened arm shall be unable to defend her coasts: and she, at last,
must bow her venerable head to some proud foreigner's despotic rule.
But if, from past events, we may venture to form a judgment of the
future, we justly may expect that the devices of our enemies will but
increase the triumphs of our country. I must indulge a hope that
Britain's liberty, as well as ours, will eventually be preserved by the
virtue of America.
The attempt of the British Parliament to raise a revenue from America,
and our denial of their right to do it, have excited an almost universal
inquiry into the rights of mankind in general, and of British subjects
in particular; the necessary result of which must be such a liberality
of sentiment, and such a jealousy of those in power, as will, better
than an adamantine wall, secure us against the future approaches of
despotism.
The malice of the Boston port bill has been defeated in a very
considerable degree, by giving you an opportunity of deserving, and our
brethren in this and our sister Colonies an opportunity of bestowing,
those benefactions which have delighted your friends and astonished your
enemies, not only in America, but in Europe also. And what is more
valuable still, the sympathetic feelings for a brother in distress, and
the grateful emotions excited in the breast of him who finds relief,
must forever endear each to the other, and form those indissoluble bonds
of friendship and affection, on which the preservation of our rights so
evidently depend.
The mutilation of our charter, has made every other Colony jealous for
its own; for this, if once submitted to us, would set on float the
property and government of every British settlement upon the continent.
If charters are not deemed sacred, how miserably precarious is every
thing founded upon them.
Even the sending troops to put these acts in execution, is not without
advantage to us. The exactness and beauty of their discipline inspire
our youth with ardor in the pursuit of military knowledge. Charles the
Invincible, taught Peter the Great, the art of war. The battle of
Pultowa convinced Charles of the proficiency Peter had made.
Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of. Our enemies are
numerous and powerful; but we have many friends, determining to be free,
and heaven and earth will aid the resolution. On you depend the fortunes
of America. You are to decide the important question, on which rest the
happiness and liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves.
The faltering tongue of hoary age calls on you to support your country.
The lisping infant raises its suppliant hands, imploring defence against
the monster, slavery. Your fathers look from their celestial seats with
smiling approbation on their sons, who boldly stand forth in the cause
of virtue; but sternly frown upon the inhuman miscreant, who, to secure
the loaves and fishes to himself, would breed a serpent to destroy his
children.
But, pardon me, my fellow citizens, I know you want not zeal or
fortitude. You will maintain your rights or perish in the generous
struggle. However difficult the combat, you never will decline it when
freedom is the prize. An independence on Great Britain is not our aim.
No, our wish is, that Britain and the Colonies may, like the oak and
ivy, grow and increase in strength together. But whilst the infatuated
plan of making one part of the empire slaves to the other, is persisted
in; the interest and safety of Britain, as well as the Colonies, require
that the wise measures, recommended by the honorable the Continental
Congress, be steadily pursued; whereby the unnatural contest between a
parent honored, and a child beloved, may probably be brought to such an
issue, as that the peace and happiness of both may be established upon a
lasting basis. But if these pacific measures are ineffectual, and it
appears that the only way to safety, is through fields of blood, I know
you will not turn your faces from your foes, but will, undauntedly,
press forward, until tyranny is trodden under foot, and you have fixed
your adored goddess Liberty, fast by a Brunswick's side, on the American
throne.
You, then, who nobly have espoused your country's cause, who generously
have sacrificed wealth and ease; who have despised the pomp and show of
tinseled greatness; refused the summons to the festive board; been deaf
to the alluring calls of luxury and mirth; who have forsaken the downy
pillow to keep your vigils by the midnight lamp, for the salvation of
your invaded country, that you might break the fowler's snare, and
disappoint the vulture of his prey; you then will reap that harvest of
renown which you so justly have deserved. Your country shall pay her
grateful tribute of applause. Even the children of your most inveterate
enemies, ashamed to tell from whom they sprang, while they in secret,
curse their stupid, cruel parents, shall join the general voice of
gratitude to those who broke the fetters which their fathers forged.
Having redeemed your country, and secured the blessing to future
generations, who, fired by your example, shall emulate your virtues, and
learn from you the heavenly art of making millions happy; with
heart-felt joy, with transports all your own, you cry, the glorious work
is done. Then drop the mantle to some young Elisha, and take your seats
with kindred spirits in your native skies.