America will prove a continual drain upon her industry and people, an eternal spunge to suck up her vital moisture, and leave her a dry and sapless trunk, exposed, without branches, without leaves, to the inclemency of the weather. This event may be distant, but it is in the womb of time; and must be brought forth, unless we have sufficient skill to cause an abortion.

But what does America gain by all this? A transitory independence perhaps, on the most noble constitution, which the wit of man has been hitherto able to invent. I say transitory independence, for the broken and disjointed members of the American empire cannot be cemented and consolidated into one firm mass; it is too unwieldy and unmanageable; it is composed of particles too heterogeneous to be ever melted down into one consistent and well digested system of liberty. Anarchy and confusion will soon prevail, were it to attempt an union; and the loss of liberty will tread fast upon their heels. For a free and extended empire on a continent are incompatible: to think they are not is a perfect solecism in politicks. No history furnishes us with an example; foreign conquest, or the power with which the magistrate must be entrusted, are an invincible obstacle in their way. It is in islands alone, where one part of the people cannot be so easily employed to oppress the other, where the sea separates them from conquerors and great empires, that liberty can be deemed a native of the soil. What a wretched exchange, then, would the Americans make! They would barter liberty for slavery.

But, say they, we are not represented in parliament.

True; you are not; no more is one twentieth of the British nation; but they may, when they become freeholders, or burgesses: so may you; therefore complain not; for it is impossible to render any human institution absolutely perfect. Were the English animated by your spirit, they would overturn the constitution to-morrow.

Like the colonies of all other countries, you enjoy the privilege of being governed in the same manner, as the people, from which you are derived. You have the same parliament, the same laws; you are all deemed free-born Britons, and are intitled to all their immunities. What would you have more? Would you reduce your protectors, your deliverers, your parents to a state of servitude, by obliging them to pay taxes for you? It is plain, too plain, excessive prosperity has rendered your heads giddy, you attempt to soar higher than your strength will carry you, than your safety will permit; it is incumbent on us, under whose care you are, to clip your wings.

You tell us you are very sober and temperate, that you fear the influence of a standing army will corrupt you, and introduce profligacy and debauchery.

I take your word for it, and believe you are as sober, temperate, upright, humane and virtuous, as the posterity of independents and anabaptists, presbyterians and quakers, convicts and felons, savages and negro-whippers, can be; that you are as loyal subjects, as obedient to the laws, as zealous for the maintenance of order and good government, as your late actions evince you to be; and I affirm that you have much need of the gentlemen of the blade to polish and refine your manners, to inspire you with an honest frankness and openness of behaviour, to rub off the rust of puritanism, and to make you ashamed of proposing in your assemblies, as you have lately done, to pay off no more debts due to your original native country.

I am only afraid that you will not be blest with enough of their company; they will be obliged to live on the frontiers, in order to check the Indians, and to preserve