THE character in which you have late­ly appeared to the world, as President of the Grand Continental Congress, has placed you in so eminent a point of view, that, like a city set on a hill, you cannot be hid: Your name, till of late, known compa­ratively to but few, out of your own province, now holds rank with other Chieftains in the Ame­rican cause, and is, of course, in the mouth of every politician, that is, of every man, woman and child, throughout the extended continent of English America; we all, gentle and simple, old and young, bond and free, male and female, fancy ourselves connected with you by a politi­cal relation, which entitles us to the most per­fect liberty of speech, to you and of you, when­soever we think the cause requires it. You will not then be surprised at finding yoursel [...] ad­dressed [Page 4] by a stranger, and through a news-paper, the common channel of conveyance for modern addresses to Governors, Generals and Kings. What your private, political sentiments are, I know not, nor do I conceive the knowledge of them to be material to any but yourself; it is in­deed whispered, that Mr. Randolph is very far from approving of many things adopted by Peyton Randolph, Esq President of the Congress; if this were a truth, well established, and universally known, Mr. Randolph, and the President, would have very different sets of men for their ad­mirers: But this may be all false conjecture, which you will lay to the account of an unavoid­able tax upon the great. Talked of you must be; and it would be strange indeed, if some er­rors did not creep into the judgments, and some falshoods shoot from the lips of three millions of politicians, endowed with the gift of tongues.

Leaving therefore your private sentiments to yourself, until I am better acquainted with them, I shall, in the correspondence, which I have now the honour to open, address myself to you, as President of the American Congress, begun and held at Philadelphia, Sept. 5 th, 1774. I do not in­tend to take the liberty of modern addressers to Sovereigns, and their Representatives, in load­ing you with scurrility and abuse, where I find reason and argument to be wanting; but, on the contrary, it is my determination to reverence yours and my own characters as Gentlemen, and to say nothing whereby I may wound the one, or forfeit the other. At the same time it is my fixed purpose, to deliver my own sentiments with the freedom of an Englishman, nearly inte­rested [Page 5] in the important subjects upon which they are formed. If the freedom of the press is not denied me, I propose in a course of letters, as health and leisure shall permit, to lay before you, without reserve, my thoughts on your Bill of Rights, your List of Grievances, your adoption of the Suffolk Resolves, your letter to his Ex­cellency General Gage, your Association, and your three very singular Addresses; and to point out to you, the fatal consequences of which they have already been productive in this province of Massachusetts Bay; and the still more fatal ef­fects, there is reason to fear, they will produce to the whole English America. If, in the prose­cution of this plan, I shall preserve decency and good manners, notwithstanding we may differ very widely in our notions, I presume my free­dom of disquisition upon the measures submitted to the judgement of every individual, by being exposed to the public eye, will give no just cause of offence. We are all embarked in one bottom; my life, and the lives of my wife and children, my property, my all, stand most inti­mately connected with the loss or safety of the ship—the storm is violent; you, Mr. President, have undertaken to pilot her through, to the much wished for haven of peace,—you have taken the helm, and under your direction she is now going at a great rate; but the tempest in­creases, the heavens lour, the clouds thicken and blacken every moment, the hoarse thunder very sensibly approaches nearer and nearer,—the bil­lows break on every side,—and to compleat the dismal prospect, the ship is too crasy to afford [Page 6] hopes of riding out the storm,—and the man­ners are upon the point of mutiny.

If amidst all these circumstances of extreme danger, you, through want of skill in naviga­tion, or from being unacquainted with the coast, or from any other cause, have run us among rocks, shoals, and quicksands, far distant from our desired port, you will, most assuredly bless the man, who seasonably points them out, tho' they may have been first discovered by a common eye; an eye, in all other instances, much inferior to your own: perhaps it is not yet too late to retrieve our errors; there is a possibility that by adopting different measures, and pursuing an op­posite course, we may yet be saved: and while there is a possibility, it is excusable, it is an in­cumbent duty on every one freely to give his opinion. And on the other hand, if our appre­hensions of danger (for I am not alone) are ill-founded, and our fears proceed from ignorance, and too great caution, still the interest we have to risk, will plead our excuse with you; and you will kindly compose our ruffled spirits, by gently explaining our situation, and pointing out to us our mistakes.

Without confining myself to the foregoing or­der of the subject, upon which I intend to treat, I will conclude this address, with some remarks upon your letter to General Gage the causes which lead to it, and the effects it has produced.

In your first letter, you premise that, ‘the inha­bitants of the town of Boston had informed you, that the fortifications erecting within that town, the frequent invasions of private property, and the repeated insults they received from the sol­diery [Page 7] had given them great reason to suspect a plan was formed very destructive to them, and tending to overthrow the liberties of America.’ You then go on to express your deepest concern, that whilst you (calling yourselves the Represen­tatives of his Majesty's faithful subjects, in all the colonies, from Nova-Scotia to Georgia, ‘were pur­suing every dutiful and peaceable measure, &c. his Excellency should proceed in a manner that bears so hostile an appearance.—You then hold up to his Excellency, open hostilities and the horrors of a civil war; and lastly as the means of preventing this, you hope he will disconti­nue the fortifications in and about Boston, pre­vent any further invasion of private property, re­strain the irregularities of the soldiers, and give orders, that the communications between town country may be open, unmolested and free.’ This your letter was no sooner delivered, than by your order or consent, as I presume, it was submitted to the perusal of every man, by being inserted in the public news-papers.

Upon this, give me leave to observe, that the professed design of your appointment which was to deliberate upon, and propose to your constituents, the best means for restoring peace and harmony between Great-Britain and her Colonies; the vio­lent inflammation to which you knew the pas­sions of the people were then raised; the venera­tion with which you knew they looked up to your body, however unconstitutional, and void of legal power and authority, it might be; the thorough knowledge, which, from General Gage's long re­sidence on the continent, you must many of you, have had of his wisdom, prudence, hu [...]ity, and [Page 8] love of justice; these all, I say, were weighty considerations, which should have induced you to the greatest circumspection, and caution in re­ceiving complaints, and adopting suspicions, to the prejudice of so good a character, in stimulat­ing to acts of rebellion, a people already too much disposed blindly to rush into it; and thereby de­feating the sole valuable purpose of your assem­bling. But the complaints upon which your letter was founded, were so entirely repugnant to the well known truth of facts, that, had a letter appeared in print charging the Congress with the open breach of the whole decalogue, it could not have occasioned more astonishment among your members, than that with which yours filled the minds of all in and about Bos­ton. It is inconceivable how you could be so ig­norant of the situation of things here at that time. The Suffolk resolves, unhappily, you had seen, and (pardon the expression) in a paroxism of epidemic madness, you had, fatally adopted. These, when cool reflection took place, told you, as plainly as if written with a sun-beam, or pro­claimed in thunder from a Sinai, that the voice of that leading county, as delivered by their de­legates, was for war. Previous to this four thousand people had assembled at Cambridge, some in arms, and others having lodged their arms at a trifling distance, ostensibly to enquire into the cause of grievances, but in reality, to prevent, by force, the execution of acts of parlia­ment. The transactions of that day I need not recapitulate; they were not done in a corner, but in the face of open day, with an eclat which must have penetrated the most secret recesses of [Page 9] the most obscure corner of British America. Be­fore and after this, the design of a descent from the country, for the purpose of attacking the small number of his Majesty's troops, then sta­tioned at Boston, was publicly talked of, with an assurance which would have forced belief upon the most obstinate sceptic. Major Paddock's field pieces, with other cannon, were secretly taken away, and conveyed into the country. Powder, ball, flints, and small arms, were pur­chased with unusual avidity—and a number of assailants, who were to make the attack, was publicly and universally set at thirty-thousand. A Colonel Putnam, of Connecticut, with a zeal, not according to knowledge, alarmed that, and all the southern provinces, and the whole coun­try was in motion. Under all these hostile ap­pearances, what was it the duty of a good Ge­neral to do? Was it not to secure his troops in the best manner he could against the threatened invasion? This his Excellency General Gage did, by repairing the old fortifications at the en­trance into the town, and by throwing up an in­trenchment still further from the town, on each side of the common road These works were, manifestly not offensive, against either town or country, but merely defensive, against invaders; as every man, upon sight of them, must at once perceive, if he can distinguish the breech from the mouth of the cannon. Besides these works, there was at that time a train of artillery in Bos­ton; they were placed at the bottom of the com­mon, pointing, as is usual, towards the front of the encampment, which was on the side of the common, next to the town; this circum­stance [Page 10] the inhabitants, in a late town-meeting, have alledged as an instance of the General's want of attention, when in his condescending answer to your letter, he said, ‘not a single cannon is pointed against the town.’ This is supporting their complaint by a miserable quibble; I wish I could say, it implies nothing worse. I have been told, that one sagacious gentleman observed with great warmth, that it was strictly true, ‘that every cannon on the neck was point­ed against the town, because the bounds of the town extended half a mile beyond the lines,’ though let it be observed, there are but two houses in that space—this likewise is a circumstance, to which, I am persuaded, the Ge­neral did not advert. By this kind of logic, if his Excellency had been charged with pointing his cannon against heaven; and it had happened that one of them had, at any time, been elevated more than forty-five degrees, this would have supported the charge. The invasion of private property, charged upon the General, was equal­ly novel and strange here, with the complaint respecting the fortifications; the only colourable pretext for it, that I know or have ever heard of, if this can be termed colourable, is the seiz­ing several pieces of cannon, not by the Gene­ral, but by the commander of one of his Majes­ty's ships, for being water-borne; they were in­tended to be smuggled into the country; but whether they were private property or not, is unknown, as they were condemned in the Court of Admiralty, for want of a claimant. I have heard mention made of the orders respecting the merchants powder, as another instance of this [Page 11] kind; it is very true before the defensive works at the neck were finished, and while the threats of an invasion were warm, the General did, for a short time, very wisely and prudently prohibit the keeper of the magazine from delivering out any powder—but this is, at most, only in the na­ture of an embargo, and is no more an invasion of private property than an embargo on ships is. These are all the pretended instances I have ever heard hinted at, in support of this part of the complaint. The suggestion of the irregularity of the soldiers is truly astonishing; it is noto­rious, and it is acknowledged by every one out of town-meeting, that the regularity and decent, inoffensive behaviour has been remarkably con­spicuous. The town has instanced only in the affair of one gentleman's horse; and this I be­lieve happened since the date of your letter; but by what rule of justice does a single instance in an individual, support a general charge against the whole body of the soldiers? Would it be just to call the town of Boston a den of thieves, because one or two of the inhabitants have been guilty of theft? In short, Mr. President, it is truth too glaring to be questioned, that his Ex­cellency the General, has constantly given the strictest orders, and attended with the most watch­ful eye, for the preservation of peace and good order, in consequence of which the good disci­pline and regular behaviour of the soldiery has been without a parallel. Such is the sandy foun­dation, upon which you have adopted and pub­lished to this people, suspicions of a plan to overthrow the liberties of America; upon which you have admonished General Gage, in the stile [Page 12] of a Roman Emperor, to the governor of a pro­vince; hoping that he would discontinue the fortifications; which he must have done at the price of his character and commissions, if not of his head; that he would restrain the irregulari­ties of the soldiers; which had been uniformly restrained almost to a miracle; and that he would give orders for opening the communication be­tween the town and the country, which had ne­ver been interrupted, but had been constantly kept open, unmolested and free, for all his Ma­jesty's subjects to pass and repass, about their lawful business; as every townsman and coun­tryman, who had occasion to make the attempt, can abundantly testify. The consequence of your publishing to the world your misconceived opinions and censures, were the injuring a most amiable and worthy character, with those whose remote distance from Boston, deprived them of the means of knowing the truth, respecting the General's conduct; a character of which I would here with pleasure attempt a portrait, but that I know would offend the delicacy of his sentiments; increasing groundless fears and jealousies in the minds of the people; and stimulating them to take up arms against his Majesty's troops; for though this might be far from your intention, yet your authority over their passions was such, that your letter served to give sanction to th [...]se mad, violent measures, to which they were be­fore but too much inclined. These were the evil effects of this hasty measure; and I mention them, not because I take pleasure in a fruitless recrimination; but because I think it of the last importance that the people should be undeceived; [Page 13] and because you may possibly hereafter have it in your power, by retracting and rectifying your past errors, to prevent their future ill effects, and thereby, in some measure, attone for them. I am, Sir, with perfect good will, your most obedient servant,

IN my last, I did myself the honour to address you, on the subject of your letter to his Ex­cellency General Gage, to point out to you the real situation of things here, previous to, and at the time of your taking that inconsiderate step, and the mischievous effects it produced in this distracted province. I now proceed, with the same decent freedom, to animadvert upon some other of your measures, equally imprudent and impolitic in their nature, and pernicious in their consequences. If the seeming harshness of these, and other terms, which in the course of my cor­respondence, may drop from my pen, should kindle any momentary resentment in your breast, you will remember, it is an inhabitant of the Massachusetts-Bay who addressed you, not in your private, but in your public character. There are few men who can, with perfect calm­ness and impartiality, hear their own sentiments and conduct arraigned and condemned; but you have stiled yourself my representative, and there­by have given me a right to examine, approve or disapprove of your proceedings in that capa­city; the reasonableness of this deduction, is so self evident—it is so clearly implied in the first [Page 14] principles of representation among social crea­tures and moral agents, that while you keep it in view, it is impossible you should be disgusted at any thing I have said, or intend to say.

Before I proceed to make any further obser­vations on your measures, give me leave to lay before you, my idea of the design of your ap­pointment, and what in consequence thereof, it was your duty to do, and what not to do.

For some considerable time before the scheme of a grand congress was adopted, the minds of the good people of this continent in general, and of this province in particular, were most violent­ly agitated, their tempers ruffled, and their pas­sions inflamed; jealousy, the rage of man, had taken fast hold on them—they had been repeat­edly told and always too credulous, they believ­ed, that plans were formed and prosecuting, for depriving them of their rights as Englishmen, and reducing them to a state of the most abject slavery: With these fatal prepossessions they had been hurried on, in a kind of enthusiastic frenzy, to an undisguised, violent opposition, to the su­preme authority over the whole British empire; an authority, which, from the first moment of their political existence, they had uniformly re­cognized; upon which, as upon a firm basis all their charter rights were founded, and which had ever been their defence and support; and to a savage invasion of private right and private pro­perty, which neither the laws of God or man could warrant or countenance; and such were the popular Rabbies, that lawless anarchy, and violence, threatened speedily to desolate this once happy land. On the other hand, the parliament, [Page 15] conscious of the purity and integrity of its in­tentions, persuaded that their measures, however inexpedient, were constitutionally right and law­ful; and, that the designs of enslaving the colo­nists, or depriving them of any of their just rights, had never been entertained; jealous, at the same time, of their honour and dignity, and justly offended at finding their rightful authori­ty, as they conceived, controverted, opposed, spurned and trampled upon, by their children, from whom they thought obedience was due; impressed with these sentiments, the parliament had passed several laws, for the purposes of com­pelling the Bostonians to make that compen­sation to those whose property they had rashly destroyed, which every principle of justice de­manded; of securing quiet obedience to their lawful authority, and restoring the course of jus­tice to its constitutional channel. These regu­lations, instead of producing their desired effects, had, under the direction of the popular leaders, inflamed the passions of the people to a still greater degree; the breach was widened, and seemed almost irreparable, our political destruc­tion was apparently inevitable, and our only hopes of salvation were founded in the wise, pru­dent and healing measures which some cool, dis­passionate mediator might happily project. At this delicate crisis, and for the valuable purpose of restoring peace and harmony between Great-Britain and her colonies, you were elected and appointed to sit in congress; to your wise and calm deliberations, the eyes of the continent were turned; and upon your prudence, as it now ap­pears, the hopes of administration were placed, [Page 16] that a door might be opened for a compleat and lasting reconciliation: To accomplish an end so ardently wished for by all good men, it was in­disputably your wisdom, your duty, most stu­diously to avoid every thing that had the remot­est tendency, still further to provoke the parent-state, or to increase the flame which was then consuming the colonies. How far the measures you adopted were guided by wisdom and duty, an impartial review of your conduct, however painful the task, may serve to convince you.

I have already mentioned the hostile appear­ance, and the high-handed, riotous proceedings, which took place at Cambridge, on the second of September: After which, on the sixth of the same month, were passed the memorable resolves of the Delegates for the county of Suffolk: Re­solves which, from my soul I wish could be buried in eternal oblivion; but this is impossible; for, unhappily, in the plenitude of popular fren­zy, they were published to the whole world. In order to set the impropriety of your own conduct, Mr. President, in the clearest point of light, it is necessary for me to take a cursory review of the principal parts of these astonishing resolves.

After an exordium, admirably well calculated to elevate the passions of the populace, to con­summate madness, they resolve, "That his Ma­jesty, George the Third, is entitled to the alle­giance of the English colonies, agreeable to com­pact, and that said covenant is the tenure and claim on which are founded our allegiance and submission.—That no obedience is due from this province to either, or any part of the several acts of parliament there mentioned.—That no regard [Page 17] ought to be paid by the people of this county to the justices of the Superior Court, &c. and In­ferior Court of common pleas, so long as they are appointed and hold their places by any other tenure than that which the charter and the laws of the province direct.—That they will bear harmless all officers who shall refuse obedience to the orders of said courts.—That it be recom­mended to the collectors of taxes not to pay the monies collected, to the provincial county trea­surer.—That the Councellors appointed by vir­tue of a mandamus from the King, in confor­mity to a late act of the British parliament, re­sign their seats at the Council-board, on or be­fore the 20th instant, or otherwise be considered as obstinate and incorrigible ennemies to this country.—That officers of the militia be elected in each town; and, that the inhabitants use their utmost diligence to acquaint themselves with the art of war, as soon as possible. That during the present hostile appearances, on the part of Great-Britain, we are determined to act merely upon the defensive, so long as such conduct may be vindicated by reason, and the principles of self-preservation, but no longer.—That if any per­son should be apprehended, every servant of go­vernment be seized, and kept in safe custody, as hostages.—And, that the committee of corres­pondence dispatch couriers, whenever any sud­den manoeuvres render it necessary to ask the aid of our brethren in the country."

Such were the principles, such the measures, recommended to the deluded people of this pro­vince, at a time when their reason was borne down and overwhelmed by an uncontroulable [Page 18] tempest of passion: Then it was, that the bosom of every true patriot heaved with sighs and fer­vent wishes, for some guardian angel, some friendly hand to save the foundering ship: And where could they look but to you? To you, Mr. President, was every mournful eye cast; such was the flattering confidence placed in the loyalty, wisdom, prudence and humanity of the continent, collected and consolidated in your congress, that a ray of hope pierced through the gloom, cheered the desponding spirit of every one who sincerely wished the salvation of his country, and preserved him from absolute des­pair. But, alas! how were all our fond hopes fatally blasted, when your cruel resolve, of the 17th of September, was announced! Such a resolve, as if tears could obliterate, annul and blot it from human remembrance, I could wish▪ that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears: But this would be a wish as fruitless as were our late misplaced [...]. Thus runs your heart-chilling resolve. "In Congress, Septem­ber 17th, 1774.—Resolved unanimously, That this assembly deeply feels for the sufferings of their countrymen in the Massachusetts-Bay, un­der the operation of the late unjust, cruel and oppressive acts of the British Parliament,—That they most thoroughly approve the wisdom and fortitude, with which opposition to th [...]se wicked ministerial measures has hitherto been conduct­ed," (mind this was after the second of Septem­ber) "and they earnestly recommend to their brethren a perseverance in the same, firm and temperate conduct, as expressed in the resolutions determined upon at a meeting of the Delegates [Page 19] for the county of Suffolk, on Tuesday the 6th instant, trusting that the effect of the united ef­forts of North-America, in this behalf, will carry such conviction to the British nation, of the unwise, unjust and ruinous policy of the present admi­nistration, as quickly to introduce better men and wiser measures." For God's sake, Mr. President, reflect on the circumstances of this province at that time; on your own and the Suffolk resolves; and ask yourself, whether you were then casting oil or water on the raging flame? Who can be­lieve you ever entertained a wish for the restora­tion of peace and harmony between Great-Britain and her colonies, while you were thus irritating the wounded honour and authority of the for­mer, and cherishing and fanning the self-con­suming fire of the latter! You had now the fair­est opportunity to show your good will to both countries, by discountenancing and discouraging the premature, inconsiderate resolutions of a single county, and thereby preventing the con­tagion from extending itself throughout this de­voted province: But, unfortunately for us, you missed the opportunity; you embraced an oppo­site conduct; and, you need not be informed, it produced a contrary effect; by thus declaring your own sentiments, you formed and directed the sentiments of this province, and led the ig­norant to an approbation and participation of the crime of high-treason and rebellion. Happy the man, Mr. President, who wisely improves his past errors; who from a first disaster takes warning, and shuns the rock he split upon,—who, when he has misdirected the simple traveller, and led him into labyrinths and dangers, takes the first [Page 20] opportunity to reinstate him in the right way That you may have, and may improve such an opportunity, is the warmest wish of your friend,

IT is with the greatest reluctance that I pro­ceed in a review of measures, every one of which, upon the maturest deliberation, I find myself constrained to condemn, as impolitic in the extreme. You may assure yourself the per­son who now addresses you, takes no pleasure in lessening your weight and authority with your constituents, any farther than as he conceives it a necessary means of saving them from total de­struction. The expediency, the necessity of ex­posing the errors of your conduct to the people, riseth in proportion to the sanguine confidence they have placed in your supposed infallibility. This overweening confidence of the many, in the unerring wisdom and incorruptible integrity of the few, who have taken the lead in turbulent times, has been the fatal source from whence has sprang all the tyranny, civil and ecclesiasti­cal, under which mankind have groaned. That the greater part of those whom you have under­taken to represent, relied most implicitly on your virtue and abilities, to point out the way in which they ought to go, you will not hesitate to believe and acknowledge, that the path which you have encouraged and directed them to pur­sue, is the broad way which leadeth to destruc­tion, is what I most religiously believe; and if I [Page 21] am not mistaken, would to God, that I might be able to convince you and them of the certainly of our common danger; and that all might un [...], in one wise resolution, to stop short, turn about, and seek that strait path which may yet lead to salvation: This is all I am at in that troub­ling you; and could my eyes, even while [...]ng in death, be blessed with this desirable sight, chearfully would I, with my expiring breath, sing the song of good old Simeon, and bid adieu to all the bustling pleasures and pains of this chequered stage.

To proceed: In a pamphlet, entitled, "Ex­tracts from the votes and proceedings of the American continental congress," &c. said to be published by order of the congress, I find, among other matters, sundry resolves, passed from time to time; the first of which carries so much of the spirit and likeness of that on the Suffolk re­solves, which was the subject of my last address, that I cannot but believe they are twins, both conceived and brought forth, at the same point of time. In this it is resolved, "That this Con­gress do approve of the opposition made by the inhabitants of the Massachusetts-Bay, to the exe­cution of the late acts of parliament; and if the same shall be attempted to be carried into exe­cution by force, in such case all America ought to support them in their opposition." What! Mr. President,—was it wisdom,—was it pru­dence—was it sound policy—was it humanity, to approve of high treason and rebellion, com­mitted by a part of your ignorant, deluded, un­happy constituents? For surely your assembly, composed, in so great a measure, of gentlemen, [Page 22] who had made the law their study and profession, could not be ignorant that the forceable opposi­tion made to the execution of the laws at Cam­bridge, and in other parts of this province; and the riotous assemblies for the redress of public grievances, amounted indisputably to high-trea­son: Every writer on crown law, and on the sta­tute of treasons, is so clear and explicit on this point, that it leaves no room for decency or charity to suppose, that lawyers or statesmen could doubt it. Certainly, your assembling from all parts of the continent, for the dreadful pur­pose of encouraging and adopting the highest and most destructive of all state crimes, was but a poor expence of time and money; this you might have done and tarried at home: Things could not have been worse, had none pretended to take the helm, but every man been left to do what was right in his own eyes. Had you, Mr. President, frowned upon these violent and very dangerous proceedings; pointed out their certain tendency to defeat the good purposes of your meeting:—to provoke, beyond the limits of pa­tience, the resentment of an insulted parent state; to involve the province in the horrors of an un­equal, civil war;—to expose the rash perpetra­tors to inevitable destruction, both in person and property;—had you exhorted them, by all they held dear and sacred, to refrain immediately from every thing which carried the remotest appear­ance of treason, rebellion, misprision of treason, riots, barbarous insults, and abuse of individu­als;—had you, I say, taken this wise, humane course, you might have been the happy means of saving thousands from miseries, which, it is [Page 23] to be feared, will shortly make your heart to bleed; and generations, yet unborn, would have risen up, and called you blessed. But instead of this, when you see the dogs of civil war let slip, you cry, havock!—and, as if not content with so confined a scene of horror and desolation, as a single province could afford, you endeavoured to spirit up all America, to support them in their opposition: With this view, you suppose a case, which either then really existed, or else might never happen; for you say, "if the same (acts of parliament) shall be attempted to be carried into execution by force."—What kind of force did you here intend? You knew a fleet of ships lay in Boston harbour, to attempt to carry one act of parliament into execution by force; you knew that General Gage, with a number of regi­ments were sent hither to support the civil ma­gistrate, in the execution of other acts of parlia­ment; but neither of these can be the force you intend, because you suppose an attempt not then made: What other or further force had you any reason to expect would be attempted? And why would you, at that critical moment hold up to a blindly enraged people, a case which existed then only in vague imagination, and which, possibly, and most probably, would never be realized? How much more amiable would you have ap­peared in the eyes of all good men, how much more consistent would you have acted with the character of mediators, aiming at the restoration of peace and good will between the mother-coun­try and her colonies, if you had, by advising to a gentle, dispassionate behaviour, cooled the over­heated passions of the multitude, and reduced [Page 24] them to such a calm, moderate temper, as would have qualified them for a successful negociation? But no; you who were chosen as the persons in whom was c [...]ncentered the united wisdom of this whole continent. You, who were sitting like Gods to compose the tumults of contending na­tions; instead of proceeding under the sure and steady guidance of reason, catched the first flame of inordinate passion from the rabble; and trea­son, rebellion, war, carnage, desolation, and eve­ry species of human misery, are considered in your councils, as trifles, scarce deserving the trouble of an attempt to avoid. Such an expli­cit, sudden approbation from the Grand Conti­nental Congress, had all the effect upon the minds of the infatuated people here, that an au­dible voice from heaven would have had; and even those who, with some remains of considera­tion, looked back with trembling upon the steps they had but lately trod, now no longer ques­tioned the propriety of their conduct; and no­thing but the wisdom, prudence and humanity of the commander in chief, saved us from being precipitately plunged into remediless ruin. It is not my design, to enter into the merits of the dispute between Great-Britain and the colonies; other and more able pens have treated this sub­ject in a manner that does them honour.—It is the measures you have adopted and recommended with which alone I now have to do, and most assuredly, the two resolves I have mentioned, pas­sed by all lenient measures of accommodation, recommended the point of the sword, as the on­ly means of terminating the contest: And this, in my opinion, was unwise, imprudent, inhuman, [Page 25] barbarous and cruel.—It may perhaps appear in the same light hereafter to you—possibly it ap­pears so already; if it does, or if it should, as you may have it in your power, so I pray God to put it into your heart, to attempt retrieving the wrong steps you have taken.

Your other resolves, hinting at the removal of the people of Boston into the country, recom­mending the shutting, up the courts of justice—holding up the legal officers of government, to the rage of a lawless multitude—recommending a defensive conduct towards the General and his troops, under certain restrictions and limitations—and making reprisals for any persons appre­hended by lawful authority—have all the same pernicious, fatal tendency to incense our Sove­reign and his parliament, to cherish and increase the flame in the colonies, to shut up every ave­nue to a pacific accommodation, and to intro­duce anarchy and destruction. It really seems as if instead of guiding and directing the continent, you were yourselves guided and directed by town and county meetings in this province, from whom you seem to have copied all your mea­sures.—Your bill of rights, and your list of grievances, differ but little, in form or substance, from the resolves of most of our county town meetings; and though they contain some things which at another time would be unexception­able, yet, every circumstance concurred to ren­der such declarations from you, at that time, al­together improper.—Your only proper business was to devise an expedient for bringing the par­ties together, and had you recommended pay­ment for the tea, and the appointment of agents [Page 26] from each colony assembly, to repair to the Court of Great-Britain, invested with proper powers, agreeable to a very sensible plan marked out for you; and also recommended a quiet, peaceable submission to the authority of parlia­ment in the mean time; I doubt not but you would have laid a sure foundation for a redress of all our grievances, and a happy restoration of peace, and all her smiling train. But your grand error was in the first concoction.—You stumbled at the threshold—you formed and prosecuted a plan of operations precisely the reverse of that which prudence and exigence of our affairs pointed out to you;—our cir­cumstances required healing medicines, but you applied nothing but causticks and the incision knife; not a single measure have you adopted that had the least tendency to asswage and cool, but all is irritating, all is inflaming;—instead of a flag of truce you hoist the flag of defiance, and passionately challenge to combat, without deigning even to try the gentler means of party negociation. This ap­pears to me to be the complexion of your resolves, your bill of rights, and your list of grievances.—Your associa­tion is a commencement of hostilities.—But the design of your three addresses passeth all human understanding, and is so profoundly mysterious, as, effectually to puzzle and confound the reason and common sense of mankind; but these I must reserve for the subjects of future letters.

You will, very probably, be told by congress parasites and sycophants (for congresses as well as Kings, have their parasites and sycophants) that I discover my enmity to my country, by thus freely condemning the conduct of the "most august assembly in the world," but your penetra­tion will easily pervade the flimsy veil of flattery, under which such popular partizans attempt to hide their dark designs. Truth is discovered only by freedom of enquiry,—scurrility and abuse, as it shews a desire, so in such dis­stracted times, it is often, too sure a means, of hiding her beauteous form from the public eye. I am deeply interested in the subject, and therefore I freely deliver my sentiments: And to the man who differs from me, I have only to say,

EVERY day affords [...] melancholy proofs of the unhap­py nature and tendency of the injudicious measures, adopt­ed and recommended to the deluded inhabitants of these colo­nies, by the Grand Congress. Give me leave, now, to bespeak your impartial attention to a review of your impolitic, absurd and mad association. I cannot help premising here, that even in this instance, instead of being yourselves the guides of the con­tinent, the duces gregis, as you assumed to be, you seem to have been guided, directed and led (I will not say by the nose) by the county delegates and congress of this province. They seem first to have determined upon the scheme of non-importation, non-exportation, and non-consumption, and held it up to view; and soon after, you set your names, as if only, to give a sanction to it. The same inferior part, you acted in your previous re­solves; and thus, you betrayed the dignity of the Grand Con­tinental Congress, while at the same time, you suffered your­selves to be made the instruments, the tools, in the hands of par­tizans, to spread and establish robbery, treason and rebellion throughout the continent. This seems, at first view, to concern only yourselves; but, in reality, it touches us all; for you call yourselves the delegates of the several colonies of New-Hamp­shire, Massachusetts-Bay, &c.—It affects me as an American.—I address myself to you, Sir, as President of the American con­tinental Congress—viewing you and myself in these respective characters, I have a right to complain of your following the lead of any town, county, or provincial assembly whatever;—you had all the honors,—you had the leading cards in every sute, in your own hands; and yet, astonishing as it may appear to by­standers, you suffered sharpers to get the odd trick; and thus, I fear, you lost a game, in which I, though I confess, involuntari­ly, had staked deep:—and yet, hard as the case is upon me, I believe I should never have appeared openly to blame your play, had you but played your own cards in any way, in any way,—with judgment or without; but, I have reason to believe you permitted sharpers to play, not only their own but your cards too;—and this, by an unskilful agreement, in which you were taken in at the beginning of the game,—but the game is up, tho' thank God, it is but the first game of the rubber;—had it been the finishing game, I would not have troubled you in this way,—my only aim is, to excite you to more caution, circumspec­tion and attention in the next game—the May game.—I wish to point out to you every past error, to the end you may be guarded against it a second time, when it certainly will be irre­trievable. [Page 28] But to quit trope and figure, you first stile yourselves, in this curious instrument, the ASSOCIATION, his Majesty's MOST loyal subjects; avowing your allegiance to his Majesty, and your affection and regard for your fellow-subjects in Great-Britain, and elsewhere:—This, Mr. President, sounds well; and happy had it been for you, thrice happy for those, whose Delegates you call yourselves, if you had continued in this loyal, affectionate, regardful temper and strain: But, to the grief of all loyal, good and virtuous, by whom you were delegated, if you may be said to be delegated by any such, you no sooner make this ostentatious declaration, than you immediately throw off all appearance of loyalty to your Sovereign, of affection and regard for your fellow-subjects in Great-Britain, or elsewhere, and open a plan of rebellion against your Sovereign, calculated to distress, and in your declared opinion, to starve your fellow-subjects in Great-Britain, Ireland, and the West-Indies, at the manifest hazard and risque of the total destruction of all your fellow-subjects elsewhere; that is, on the whole continent of America. Such is your loyalty to your King, such your affec­tion and regard for your fellow-subjects, as they are to be col­lected from your subsequent actions, the surest discoveries of the real intentions of the human heart: You next proceed, in con­formity to the apparent, general plan of your measures, to irri­tate the parliament of Great-Britain, and to inflame the raging passions of your American fellow-subjects, by holding up sundry statutes as grievances, and placing them in a point of view, which, by no means, shews them in their genuine colours: You represent the late act of parliament, imposing a three-penny duty on tea, as part of a system of slavery, adopted by the Britain Mi­nistry, about the year 1763, and the only reason you assign for this representation is, that it is an act for raising a revenue in America; whereas you knew, or might and ought to have known, that if any such plan was ever laid, it was so long ago as the year 1660, when the tobacco act was passed, which was for the express purpose of raising a revenue upon the trade of the colonies. You knew, I presume, that in the year 1672, a duty was laid by act of parliament, upon all ‘white, brown and muscovado sugars, to­bacco, cotton wool, indigo, ginger, logwood, fustic, and other dying wood, and cocoa nuts shipped in any of the plantations, to be carried to any other plantation, the said duties to be le­vied, collected and paid, in the respective plantations before the shipping thereof,’ and this, you must know, was raising a revenue in America. You knew of the act passed in the same year, 1672, granting a duty ‘on all train oil, and whale fin [...], [Page 29] taken in shipping belonging to any of the colonies and plan­tations, and imported into England.’ You could not be ignorant of the act passed in the sixth year of George the second, imposing a duty ‘on all foreign rum, spirits, melasses, sugar and paneles, imported into any of the colonies, to be raised, le­vied, collected and paid, unto and for the use of his Majesty, his heirs and successors,’—and this too you must know, was raising a revenue in America.—You could not forget that above sixty years ago, in the ninth year of the reign of Queen Ann, an act was made for ‘establishing a general post-office in Great-Britain, the West-Indies, and on the continent of North-A­merica,’ and that one reason therein assigned for passing it, was, ‘that the revenue arising thereby might be better im­proved, settled and secured to her Majesty.’—Of these, and many other acts of parliament, similar in form and essect, passed in every reign for more than an hundred years past, I dare not affront the wisdom of the congress by supposing them ignorant; how then could you represent the tea act, to your delegators, as being passed in prosecution of a system adopted in 1763? Is not this a palpable misrepresentation? And even upon the savage plan of goading the people on to rebellion, can misrepresenta­tion be justified? Was it wise, was it politic, was it benevo­lent, was it loyal to your King, or affectionate to your fellow-subjects, thus to wrong the present administration, and to sti­mulate the colonists to a forfeiture of life and estate, by holding up as a novelty of modern invention, what you knew was estab­lished by ancient and continual practice? To these questions, I leave you, Mr. President, to give an answer, which I cannot give without pain; and yet, this is the grand foundation, so far as respects all the colonies, excepting Massachusetts-Bay, upon which you ground as ASSOCIATION, which your posterity will read with that mixture of astonishment and shame, which we feel at reflecting on the injustice of our fore-fathers, in the time of supposed witchcraft. God, I hope has forgiven them—they saw their errors and repented. You, I hope, will have the same plea, and find the same mercy.

I might easily go on to shew that the two general acts which you represent as grievances, on account of their novelty, are sup­ported by ancient precedents, and consequently can be no part of a system adopted in 1763; you need only look into the sta­tutes to be fully convinced of this; nor can either of them be viewed as part of a system of American slavery, because they equal­ly affect all the inhabitants of England, Scotland and Ireland, the West-Indies; neither is it possible you could in your consciences [Page 30] esteem the other acts relating to the single province of Massachu­setts-Bay, as grievous, or tending to enslave that province, and much less all America. You must know the port-bill was in­tended only for the purpose of obtaining justice, and that though it operated as a punishment on the town of Boston, yet they had the means of relief in their own hands, that they [...]ght obtain it upon the easy terms of complying with the demands of equity, and following the dictates of conscience: You knew the regu­lation bill was but bringing their constitution nearer to that of Great-Britain, the most excellent in all the earth, and placing them upon the footing of Britons, the most perfectly free people under the whole heavens. How then, Sir, could you thus at­tempt to make blind eyes blinder, to make the mad Americans rage, and the deceived people imagine vain things? How could you thus set yourselves and take counsel together against the Lord's anointed; stimulating the inhabitants of this continent to wage war with their parents, and rebel, against their lawful Sovereign, after declaring yourselves his most loyal subjects, and avowing an affection and regard for all your fellow-subjects? How, I ask, could you adopt and recommend such infatuated measures, upon so sandy a foundation? Yet, this you have done, to the astonishment and grief of all good men: You have for yourselves, and your delegators, associated and agreed to break off all commerce, trade and dealing with your fellow-subjects of Great-Britain, Ireland, and the British plantations, and this with a professed intent to procure a repeal of certain acts of the British parliament, the laws of King George the Third,—that King, whose most loyal subjects, you, by a strange perversion of language, profess yourselves to be: Surely you could not sup­pose this a healing measure, tending to an accommodation of our unhappy differences; you must know your preamble was calculated to blind the reason, and inflame the passions of Ame­ricans, and your association an open act of hostility, which could not fail to sharpen the resentment of an affronted, powerful nation, jealous of their rights, and tender of their honour: You must know, this baneful measure, tended with inevitable certainty, to the introduction of civil war, and all its train of intolerable miseries; how could you thus steel your hearts against every sentiment of loyalty and humanity! How could you thus shut your eyes against those heart-rending scenes of distress, into which you were plunging headlong your constituents, their wives and innocent babes. Unhappy Americans! to be thus blindly led by blind guides; dreadful is the pi [...], upon the brink of which you stand, and into which you soon, very soon will fall, unless heaven in mercy removes the scales from your eyes, [Page 31] and snatches you from the fascinating hands of your merciless leaders. Besides, Mr. President, the mea [...]s you have prescribed for carrying your association into execution, would shock the soul of a savage; your tenth, eleventh and fourteenth articles con­tain such a system of lawless tyranny, as a Turk would startle at, it is a barbarous inroad upon the first rights of men in a social state; it is a violent attack upon the lawfully acquired property of honest, industrious individuals: You recommend to the mob to seize by violence, upon the honest gains of industry, to rob and plunder the good housholder of the means of subsistence. Englishmen, Sir, can never submit to such despotism,—an Eng­lishman cannot tamely look an and see the bread snatched by ruffians from his children's mouths; it is too much for human nature to bear; it will drive men to desperation, and must surely be productive of confusion and bloodshed. It is strange indeed, that wise men should hit upon treason and rebellion, as the means of pacifying an offended Sovereign; and upon vio­lence and robbery, as the preservatives of civil liberty: How much more certainly would the tendency of a gentle, peaceable, orderly conduct, have been to obtain these desirable ends!—But one part still remains, equally absurd and amazing with any thing I have yet mentioned, which is this; among the acts, the repeal of which you make the condition of your ceasing hosti­lities, is that "for extending the limits of Quebec, &c." What an insult upon your Sovereign! What an affront to the supreme authority of the British empire! What had you to do with Que­bec? You never pretended to be delegated by that province; did you, in the plenitude of your fancied power, imagine your­selves the Lords Paramount of ALL America? It really looks, Sir, as if you feared, lest your other requisitions should be com­plyed with, and thereby all pretence for rebellion, war and anarchy be taken away. It looks as if the bottom of your scheme was an independent republic, and that this condition was thrown in, effectually to prevent that accommodation, which would defeat your favourite plan; for you must know this could never be complied with: There is no part of your mea­sures, at which charity is so abashed and confounded, when with her wonted good-nature, she would fain suppose you meant well, general frenzy and dementia of the times.—Here, she pauses, blushes, looks down and is silent.

Thus Sir, while his Excellency General Gage, with that humanity and wisdom, which does him honour as a man, and with that wisdom and prudence which discovers him to be thoroughly qualified for the high and important stations to [Page 32] which his merit had raised him, was [...] every ra­tional step to effect an accommodation, and avert the plague of civil commotions, you were counterworking his bene­volent purpose, associating and combining, to take away all hopes of peace and harmony, and to introduce cruelty, robbery, murder and rebellion: Your association tended on­ly to these fatal effects; to compel the King and Parlia­ment to coercive measures; to push the colonies to open re­bellion against the supreme authority,—and to provoke them to internal discord and civil fury among themselves; and what renders it a paragon of folly, is the absolute im­practicability of the scheme. The supposition that this great continent could even exist, in a state of society, with­out any of those necessaries, conveniences and luxuries of trade and commerce, to which they had been so long ha­bituated, is so egregiously romantic and Utopian, that it would have appeared singularly extravagant in a Don Quixote.—No Sir, you must know it to be impossible—and you must know that Britons do not want sense and under­standing enough to see the impossibility, and to laugh at the farce: But though it could possibly produce no good effects, yet fatally for America, it is too well calculated to insure the most pernicious consequences—it has already been the efficient cause, of the most bare-faced, lawless violation of private property,—it has already engendered strife and de­bates—it has laid a sure foundation for innumerable, rui­nous law-suits, when government shall be again restored, and in the mean time, the wars and fightings,—and what is still more alarming, it has awakened the British nation,—it has produced a speech from the throne, and answers from the two houses of parliament, at which the ears of every disloyal American subject may well tingle. Such is the nature, such are the bitter effects of your execrable asso­ciation;—possibly the wisdom of the people, may yet pre­vent the worst of consequences; possibly you may yet have it in your power, by publicly retracting your error, to save your country from that final ruin to which you have, I hope inadvertently exposed it; and for your country's sake, for your own sake, Mr. President, let me intreat you as you will answer it here and hereafter, to consider, that as it was you who scattered the fire-brands, and enkindled the flames, so it highly concerns you, above all, to do whatever in you lies, to stifle and quench them, before the building is utter­ly consumed. I am, whatever you may be told, by the enemies of peace and order, your sincere friend,