TO THE CITIZENS of New-York, On the present critical Situation of Affairs.
WERE I neither a Philadelphian, a New-Yorker, a Bostonian, nor even a native of this continent, as a friend to the rights of mankind, I should interest myself in the fate of America. America must at present be considered as the principal, or indeed the only remaining seat of liberty —In Corsica, Sweden, Poland she has been borne down by the direct hand of violence; and in our parent country, she is sapp'd by corruption to so dangerous a degree, that she totters from the foundation, and unless propp'd by the virtue and spirit of her colonies, she must inevitably fall to the ground. A regular plan has been formed by the present court, for the introduction of arbitrary power;—this is no declamation, and did the size of this paper admit of it, I could prove the truth of the assertion by numberless instances: The privileges, and indeed natural rights of the subject, have been invaded in every part of the empire, one while by open force, another by cabal and the arts of corruption —Even the islands of Minorca, Jersey, Guernsey, have not been protected by their insignificance, from the scourge of tyranny.—Great Britain and Ireland have been drained almost to the last farthing, not for any national purposes, but to increase the influence of the crown, in creating new placemen, pensioners, and of course enemies to the public welfare, and liberty.
General warrants, violation of the rights of election, the disfranchisement of the proprietors of the East India stock, murders committed, murderers pardoned, encouraged, rewarded, and the other overtacts (of treason, I may say) which the ministry have been guilty of against law, magna charta, and the English constitution, are so notorious, that it is almost impertinent to mention them; but there are other indications, or rather evidences of the temper and views of the court, which ought not to be passed over in silence and which must convince the subjects that they are to expect nothing but from their own virtue and firmness,—
Every writer in support of boundless prerogative, every jacobite historian, (the Humes, Guthries and Smollet's) has been caressed, placed or pensioned. Attacks have been made under the auspices of the court, not only on the revolution, and the principal promoters of the revolution, but a scheme has been laid, and to the utmost of their power carried into execution, to proscribe virtue herself, by subverting the reputation of her brightest models—They argue thus, if we can spread the persuasion, that public virtue never did exist in a human breast that patriotism has been in all ages only a mask for designing men; we shall gain the following point, we shall render mankind totally indifferent who are in office, who are not; whether a Pitt or a Bute—what maxims we rule by, what maxims we repudiate, whether we profess those of an Alfred, or a Stuart, will be a matter of indifference to the public, if we can once convince them, that their interests ever have been, and ever will be equally out of the question.—When we have thus destroyed all political confidence, we have reason to flatter ourselves that the people will not be such fools as to think of opposition, or resistance, but without giving themselves any unnecessary trouble, submit to the yoke we are preparing for them. To accomplish these pious purposes, some fit instrument was to be sought and found, some man of a sufficiently corrupt heart, to qualify him for the task. This instrument was found in a certain Sir John Dalrymple, (who in the administration of Lord Rockingham had been turned out of an important office, which he held in Scotland, for manifest corrupt practices —He was detached into France, and recommended by Lord Mansfield, and another very great personage, to the famous Duke D'Aiguillon; he, who had trampled on the few remaining laws of France, and exterminated their virtuous Parliaments.—the Duke D'Aiguillon, with the candour (as this Dalrymple tells us) inseparable from every minister of a great King catches the idea of our court, (and as might be expected from so natural an ally) patronizes the project, and consigns to their agent, the key of the depote des affaires etrangeres. *—Here he sets himself to work, to rummage, to garble, to defalcate, to forge,—for without straining inferences, it is almost certain that he did forge—at length he triumphantly sallies forth, with the testimonies, as he hopes to persuade us, of the non-existence of human virtue, with proofs that her brighest patterns were knaves and hypocrites. It would be easy (tho' here might be thought tedious) to overturn the whole foundation, [...] defeat the intended effects of this abominable production;—but I cannot help remarking, that were the proofs of Sydney and Russel's being traytors irrefregable, he who should produce them, would be held in abhorrence by every friend to humanity.
It is necessary that some models of human virtue should be held up to our imitation: He who would remove from our sight these few models which history has left to us, would check every noble ardour of the soul, as it would then appear madness to attempt attaining what is incompatible with our nature It may now perhaps be asked what can be the intention (in an address to the citizens of New-York) of so long a preamble on the conduct and spirit of the court, in matters which do not particularly relate to America. I will explain to you my intention; it is to convince you, that when a spirit so hostile to general liberty prevails, in those who have the power at home, you have only to hope for redress of grievances from the united virtue and firmness of the colonies; that the idea of proceeding by petition and remonstrance, is the most ridiculous idea that ever entered into weak heads. Can you seriously think your petitions would have any effect at this instant, when the confidence and temerity of the ministry are mounted to so much higher a pitch than we have hitherto seen them? Can you seriously think that your petitions would operate more strongly on so firmly a fixed minister, backed by a vast majority in parliament, than the petitions of the city of London, and the principal counties of England, with the first men of property and character, and a considerable number of the members at their head did on a minister less firmly seated; a minister, not only less firmly seated, but perhaps a much less bold and determined foe to liberty, than the present.—It is no calumny, it is no exaggeration to say, that Lord North is a determined foe to liberty.— He is so by inheritance; descended from one of the most forward and active instruments of tyranny under Charles the second; every speech, every action of his life demonstrates him to be the genuine offspring — On the brave Corsicans he never bestowed a gentler Epithet than rebels and traitors.—The mention of American liberties, the supposition that they had any liberties, always threw him into a frenzy of rage,— foaming at the mouth, and with eyes starting from their sockets, He has denounced, or rather vomitted forth eternal war against you and your posterity.—He has had the arrogance, the madness to declare, in the open senate, that he never would receive, never hear any petitions from America, until he had her at his feet.
When it is considered that this avowed foe, and persecutor of America; this furious fanatick in despotism, is now become the omnipotent minister, I must repeat, that the idea of redressing grievances by petition and remonstrance, is the most contemptible idea, that ever entered into weak heads. It is indeed so very contemptible, that we cannot suppose those who adopt it are in earnest;—it is impossible not to suspect them of sinister designs—They must mean, under the cloak of coolness and moderation, to check the vigour, so absolutely requisite at this juncture, and to prevent the only possible means of redress; they must mean to recommend themselves to the future favour of your oppressors. —They perhaps already devour in their minds, contracts, salaries, and pensions, for which, (if the ministry succeed) funds will be immediately established out of the fruits of your honest labour and industry.—They must be conscious that all the force and troops they can employ, will not effect their purposes, unless the corruption of your own members powerfully co-operates —Upon the whole, considering the critical situation of affairs, the impending ruin over our heads, I cannot help being a good deal surprised and somewhat shocked, at the conduct of this city—Is this a time to amuse yourselves with narrow local politicks and disputes? Is this a time, when the dearest interests of yourselves, of posterity, and of mankind are at stake, (for the cause of liberty is the cause of mankind)? Is this a time I say, to indulge your little prejudices, jealousies, and personal piques? For shame citizens, discard all such disgraceful sentiments; assume a more noble character; save yourselves from the infamy which threatens you; let not the common ruin be laid to your charge. For my own part, I neither pretend to approve nor to condemn the measure which the committee hath lately thought proper to censure —But this I will pretend to say that the publishing the censure, may have most pernicious consequences; it may, by propagating the opinion of divisions starting up in this [...]ding capital, repress the ardour of your own counties, of the other colonies, discourage your friends at home, and give fresh vigour to your enemies; and (the haste with which the publishing this censure was pressed, with the professed intention of transmitting it by the packet) gives. I must confess, a very suspicious air to its authors —the design could not be good. It has already furnished matter of triumph to [...] of liberty. One man in particular (he is indeed an official man, not a native of this country, and remarkable for his alacrity in political wickedness) sings te deum, I am told, in all companies on this occasion, considering the victory as insured to his idol despotism —There are now some farther consequences to be apprehended from the present conduct of this city, which perhaps have not occurred to you, and which therefore I shall beg leave to offer to your consideration —Is it not to be apprehended that the Bostonians, when they turn their eyes and address their prayers to you, as a leading people of America, for succour in their distress; and when instead of the vigour and noble spirit they had reason to expect from your former exertions, they see nothing but backwardness, frivolous delays, and (as to them it will appear) total dearth of spirit; is it not to be apprehended, that having no prospect of relief, they may grow desperate? And that their despair, in conjunction with the corruption of individuals among themselves, (for you may be assured that General [Page] Gage has unlimited credit on the treasury for the purposes of corruption) may drive them into the wish'd for fatal concession; the general seal of American bondage—The admission of the right of taxing you without your own consent? Is it not to be expected, that the instant they have divested themselves of the character of freemen and taken up that of slaves, they will become the favourite colony of the court? That it will then be discovered, that they have been misrepresented? That they had indeed for some time been deluded by a few factious demagogues, but that in fact, they were a loyal, dutiful and affectionate people?—This will be the language affected by the General, and this will the ministry ostentatiously affect to believe.—When they have thus commuted the character of freemen for that of slaves, will they not act the part natural to slaves? Be the ready instruments for reducing others to the same situation with themselves? And when a people so potent in numbers and other respects as New England, is thrown into the scale of the military I am at a loss to know what means on this continent can be devised for resistance.
For my own part, O citizens of New-York, supposing myself a Bostonian, and that my country were reduced to the wretched situation I have described, through your dilatoriness, disaffection, or want of virtue, I am afraid there is no measure (be it ever so tyrannical) my Lords and masters could dictate against you, which I should not from resentment, find a pleasure in putting into execution.—For instance should they think proper to revive in this particular province, the odious stamp act, (and such is the wantonness and insolence of tyranny, that they would probably choose it, in preference to any other mode of oppression, as a trophy of their victory) I should, I am afraid, with alacrity lend my hand to enforce it.—I am sensible that in hazarding these sentiments, I may give to many, a disadvantageous picture of my own disposition; it may be, that I mistake myself, but as resentment operates so strongly on the human breast, even the best disposed, and as slavery so vitiates the human heart, the apprehension is far from groundless.—This, at least, is certain, that should the people of Boston be enslaved, and have reason to impute their calamity in part, or principally to New York, there is no degree of animosity and hatred they could afterwards bear to New-York, which would not in a great measure be justified; and it is equally certain, that the liberties of the betrayers would not long survive those which they had betrayed.
I must now, O citizens, intreat that you will attribute what I have offered, to the genuine motive; to an ardent zeal for the liberties of America, and the rights of mankind; that you will believe me at the same time most sincerely attached to the real interests of Great Britain; no man can have a higher reverence for the people of England than myself; I esteem them, in all respects the first people of the universe. But when our parent is thrown into a dilirium, by the quackery of a murdering impostor, is it not the duty of her children to prevent her committing outrages, not only immediately destructive to themselves, but which must end in her own ruin? When her phrenzy is past, she will thank us for the pious restraint. There is one consideration which renders the present delusion of the people of England with respect to America, really wonderful; it is that the very same men should have been able to bring about this delusion, whom they themselves have ever held in contempt and abhorrence. The same men who within doors have violated, baffled, or eluded their most sacred laws, dissipated and refused to account for their treasures, treated with insult their petitions and remonstrances; and who have externally sacrificed their interests, annihilated their importance, and tarnished their glories?—That these men should have wrought upon them, is so preposterous and unnatural that the delusion cannot be of a long continuation; they must soon open their eyes; they will then thank Providence, that the sense and virtue of their colonies has saved them from the destruction into which their own infatuation would have plunged them —Such are the sentiments which I entertain, such are the principles I possess—and if you believe them sincere, they will be sufficient apologies for my addressing you in this extraordinary manner; and that they are sincere, I call to witness that Eternal Being, who is the judge of the truth of all hearts. I shall now conclude with observing, that there are two roads presented to you; the one leading to security, freedom, happiness, and honour; the other which terminates in wretchedness, slavery, and infamy to you and your children's children—it is of the greatest concern, therefore, to be assured of the fidelity of your conductors. If they turn their eyes to the right or left, from the direct object of their charge, the general welfare, to little views of imagined self interests, you and your posterity are lost. The more we reflect, the more we are struck with the importance of what you are now about to resolve, of the necessity there is of paying the most serious attention to the characters of those whom you shall appoint your Delegates.—If amongst those proposed for your election there should be a man whom you think averse to schemes of non-importation and even non exportation to the islands, if necessary—that is in fact a man whose mind has been so narrowed by commercial habits, that he would postpone the permanent security and freedom of the whole, to his own temporary personal advantages: Let him be rejected, as totally unworthy of so momentous, so dignified a trust —Is there a man who ever did, or you suppose ever will hold any office under a ministry odious as the present? Him reject, as destitute of all principle. But above all, is there a man who has upon the present occasion, been heard to propose or recommend petition and remonstrance as the properest mode of obtaining redress? Him reject with scorn and indignation—for if he is in earnest, his capacity must be miserably low indeed, and if he is not in earnest, he certainly means to betray you.
The most strenuous civil resistance is necessary to your salvation unless you prefer a civil war a few months hence, to civil resistance now, or are determined to submit to absolute slavery. Let your choice of Delegates be proportioned to the importance of the occasion.—I do not think transcendent talents absolutely necessary; a common good understanding: sufficient, but unquestionable heartiness, zeal, and fervor in the common cause, are indespensible—in short, let your choice correspond with what we are taught to expect from the other colonies, and not only the security, happiness, and liberties of America will be fixed on a foundation which a [...]es shall not shake, but you may re-animate your parent country, by subverting a [...] of government which must otherwise [...] an end to her existence.