to other purposes, than it was originally designed for, and retaining its title, hath become an engine of intolerable oppressions and griev ous taxations. The argument of an eminent judge, states the point in a similar case strongly for us, in these words-" Though it be granted, that the king hath the custody of the havens and ports of this island, being the very gates of this kingdom, and is trusted with the keys of these gates; yet the inference and argument thereupon made, I utterly deny. For in it there is mutatio hypothesis, and a transition from a thing of one nature to another; as the premises are of a power only fiduciary, and in point of trust and government, and the conclusion infers a right of interest and gain. Admit the king has custodiam portuum, yet he hath but the custody, which is a trust and not dominium utile. He hath power to open and shut, upon consideration of public good to the people and state, but not to make gain and benefit by it. the one is protection, the other is expilation.' By common law the king may restrain a subject from going abroad, or enjoin him by his chancellor from proceeding at law: But to conclude, that he may therefore take money, not to restrain or not to enjoin, is to sell government, trust, and common justice. THOUGHTS ON STANDING ARMIES. Boston, May 14, 1774. The faculty of intelligence may be considered as the first gift of God; its due exercise is the happiness and honor of man; its abuse his calamity and disgrace. The most trifling duty is not properly discharged witthout the exertion of this noble faculty; yet how often does it lie dormant, while the highest concernments are in issue? Believe me (my countrymen) the labor of examining for ourselves, or great imposition, must be submitted to; there is no other alternative; and unless we weigh and consider what we examine, little benefit will result from research. We are at this extraordinary crisis called to view the most melancholy events of our day; the scene is unpleasant to the eye, but its contemplation will be useful, if our thoughts terminate with judgment, resolution and spirit. If at this period of public affairs, we do not think, deliberate, and determine like men-men of minds to conceive, hearts to feel, and virtue to act-what are we to do?-to gaze upon our bondage? while our enemies throw about fire-brands, arrows and death, and play their tricks of desperation with the gambols of sport and wantonness. The proper object of society and civil institution is the advancement of "the greatest happiness of the greatest number." The people (as a body, being never interested to injure themselves and uniformly desirous of the general welfare) have ever made this collective felicity the object of their wishes and pursuit. But strange as it may seem, what the many through successive ages have desired and sought, the few have found means to baffle and defeat. The necessity of the acquisition hath been conspicuous to the rudest mind; but man, inconsiderate, that, "in every society, there is an effort constantly tending to confer on one part the height of power, and to reduce the other to the extreme of weakness and misery," hath abandoned the most important concerns of civil society to the caprice and control of those whose elevation caused them to forget their pristine equality, and whose interest urged them to degrade the best and most useful below the worst and most unprofitable of the species. Against this exertion, and the principle which originates it, no vigilance can be too sharp, no determination too severe. But alas-as if born to delude and be deluded-to believe whatever is taught, and bear all that is imposed-successive impositions, wrongs and insults awaken neither the sense of injury or spirit of revenge. Fascinations and enchantments, chains and fetters bind in adamant the understanding and passions of the human race. Ages follow ages, pointing the way to study wisdom-but the charm continues. Sanctified by authority and armed with power, error and usurpation bid defiance to truth and right, while the bulk of mankind sit gazing at the monster of their own creation-a monster, to which their follies and vices gave origin, and their depravity and cowardice continue in existence. "The greatest happiness of the greatest number" being the object and bond of society, the establishment of truth and justice ought to be the basis of civil policy and jurisprudence. But this capital establishment can never be attained in a state where there exists a power superior to the civil magistrate and sufficient to control the authority of the laws. Whenever, therefore, the profession of arms becomes a distinct order in the state, and a standing army part of the constitution, we are not scrupulous to affirm, that the end of the social compact is defeated, and the nation called to act upon the grand question consequent upon such an event. The people who compose the society (for whose security the labor of its institution was performed, and of the toils its preservation daily sustained) the people, I say are the only competent judges of their own welfare, and, therefore, are the only suitable authority to determine touching the great end of their subjection and their sacrifices. This position leads us to two others, not impertinent on this occasion, be cause of much importance to Americans: That the legislative body of the commonwealth ought to deliberate, determine and make their decrees in places where the legislators may easily know from their own observation the wants and exigencies, the sentiments and will, the good and happiness of the people; and the people as easily know the deliberations, motives, designs and conduct of their legislators before their statutes and ordinances actually go forth and take effect. That every member of the Legislature ought himself to be so far subject in his person and property to the laws of the state, as to immediately and effectually feel every mischief and inconvenience resulting from all and every act of legislation. The science of man and society, being the most extended in its nature, and the most important in its consequences of any in the circle of erudition, ought to be an object of universal attention and study. Was it made so, the rights of mankind would not remain buried for ages, under systems of civil and priestly hierarchy, nor social felicity overwhelmed by lawless domination. Under appearances the most venerable, and institutions the most revered; under the sanctity of religion, the dignity of government, and the smiles of beneficence, do the subtle and ambitious make their first incroachments upon their species. Watch and oppose ought therefore to be the motto of mankind. A nation in its best estate, guarded by good laws, fraught with public virtue, and steeled with martial courage may resemble Achilles; but Achilles was wounded in the heel. The least point left unguarded, the foe enters. Latent evils are the most dangerous-for we often receive the mortal wound, while we are flattered with security. The experience of all ages showe that mankind are inattentive to the calamities of others, careless of admonition, and with difficulty roused to repel the most injurious invasions. "I perceive (said the great patriot Cicero to his countrymen) an inclination for tyranny in all Cæsar projects or executes.' Notwithstanding this friendly caution, not "till it was too late did the people find out that no beginnings, however small, are to be neglected." For that Cæsar, who at first attacked the commonwealth with mines very soon opened his batteries. Encroachments upon the rights and property of the citizen are like the rolling of mighty waters over the breach of ancient mounds; slow and unalarming at the beginning, rapid and terrible in the current, a deluge and devastation at the end. Behold the oak, which stretcheth itself to the mountains, and overshadows the valleys, was once an acorn in the bowels of the earth. Slavery (my friends) which was yesterday engrafted among you, already overspreads the land, extending its arms to the ocean, and its limbs to the rivers. Unclean and voracious animals under its covert, find protection and food, but the shade blasteth the green herb, and the root thereof poisoneth the dry ground, while the winds which wave its branches scatter pestilence and death. Regular government is necessary to the preservation of private property and personal security. Without these, men will descend into barbarism, or at best become adepts in humiliation and servility; but they will never make a progress in literature or the useful arts. Surely a proficiency in arts and sciences is of some value to mankind, and deserves some consideration. What regular government can America enjoy with a legislative a thousand leagues distant, unacquainted with her exigencies, militant in interest, and unfeeling of her calamities? What protection of property-when ministers under this authority shall over-run the land with mercenary legions? What personal safety when a British administration (such as it now is, and corrupt as it may be)-pour armies into the capital and senatehouse-point their artillery against the tribunal of justice, and plant weapons of death at the posts of our doors? Thus exposed to the power, and insulted by the arms of Britainstanding armies become an object of serious attention. And as the history of mankind affords no instance of successful and confirmed tyranny, without the aid of military forces, we shall not wonder to find them the desiderata of princes, and the grand object of modern policy. What, though they subdue every generous passion and extinguish every spark of virtue-all this must be done, before empires will submit to be exhausted by tribute and plundered with impunity. In Amidst all the devices of man to the prejudice of his species, the institution of which we treat, hath proved the most extensively fatal to religion, morals, and social happiness. Founded in the most malevolent dispositions of the human breast, disguised by the policy of state, supported by the lusts of ambition, the sword hath spread havoc and misery throughout the world. By the aid of mercenary troops, the sinews of war, the property of the subject, the life of the commonwealth have been committed to the hands of hirelings, whose interest and very existence, depend on an abuse of their power. the lower class of life, standing armies have introduced brutal debauchery and real cowardice; in the higher orders of state, venal haughtiness and extravagant dissipation. In short, whatever are the concomitants of despotism; whatever the appendages of oppression, this armed monster hath spawned or nurtured, protected or established,-monuments and scourges of the folly and turpitude of man. Review the armament of modern princes,-what sentiments actuate the military body? what characters compose it? Is there a private sentinel of all the innumerable troops that make so brilliant a figure, who would not for want of property have been driven from a Roman cohort, when soldiers were the defenders of liberty? Booty and blind submission is the science of the camp. When lust, rapacity, or resentment incite, whole battalions proceed to outrage. Do their leaders command-obedience must follow. 'Private soldier (said Tiberius Gracchus from the Roman rostrum) fight and die to advance the wealth and luxury of the great.' Soldiers (said an eminent Puritan in his sermon preached in this country more than 66 one hundred and thirty years ago), are commonly men who fight themselves fearlessly into the mouth of hell for revenge, a booty, or a little revenue;-a day of battle is a day of harvest for the devil." Soldiers, like men, are much the same in every age and country. "Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed, From Macedonia's madman to the Sweed." What will they not fight for-whom will they not fight against? Are these men, who take up arms with a view to defend their country and its laws? Do the ideas or the feelings of the citizen actuate a British private on entering the camp? Excitements, generous and noble, like these, are far from being the stimuli of a modern phalanx. The general of an army, habituated to uncontrolled command, feels himself absolute; he forgets his superiors, or rather despises that civil authority, which is destitute of an energy to compel his obedience. His soldiers (who look up to him as their sovereign, and to their officers as magistrates) lose the sentiments of the citizen and contemn the laws. Thus a will and a power to tyrannize become united; and the effects are as inevitable and fatal in the political, as the moral world. The soldiers of Great Britain are by the mutiny act deprived of those legal rights which belong to the meanest of their fellow subjects, and even to the vilest malefactor. Thus divested of those rights and privileges which render Britons the envy of all other nations, and liable to such hardships and punishments as the limits and mercy of our known laws utterly disallow; it may well be thought they are persons best prepared and most easily tempted to strip others of their rights, having already lost their own. Excluded, therefore, from the enjoyments which others possess, like eunuchs of an Eastern seraglio, they envy and hate the rest of the community, and indulge a malignant pleasure in destroying those privileges to which they can never be admitted. How eminently does modern observation verify that sentiment of Baron Montesquieu-a slave living among free men will soon become a beast. A very small knowledge of the human breast, and a little consideration of the ends for which we form into societies and commonwealths, discover the impropriety and danger of admitting such an order of men to obtain an establishment in the state; the annals and experience of every age, show that it is not only absurdity and follybut distraction and madness. But we, in this region of the earth, have not only to dread and struggle with the common calamities resulting from such military bodies, but the combined dangers arising from an army of foreigners, stationed in the very bowels of the land. Infatuated Britons have been told-and as often deceived-that an army of natives would never oppress their own countrymen. But Cæsar and Cromwell, and an hundred others, have enslaved their |