authority increase, and all means of redress lessen, as the distance of the subject removes him from the seat of the supreme power.  What, in those circumstances, can save him from the last extremes of indignity and oppression, but something left in his own hands which may enable him to conciliate the favor and control the excesses of government?  When no means of power to awe or to oblige are possessed, the strongest ties which connect mankind in every relation, social and civil, and which teach them mutually to respect each other, are broken.  Independency, from that moment, virtually exists.  Its formal declaration will quickly follow.  Such must be our feelings for ourselves:  we are not in possession of another rule for our brethren.

When the late attempt practically to annihilate that inestimable privilege was made, great disorders and tumults, very unhappily and very naturally, arose from it.  In this state of things, we were of opinion that satisfaction ought instantly to be given, or that, at least, the punishment of the disorder ought to be attended with the redress of the grievance.  We were of opinion, that, if our dependencies had so outgrown the positive institutions made for the preservation of liberty in this kingdom, that the operation of their powers was become rather a pressure than a relief to the subjects in the colonies, wisdom dictated that the spirit of the Constitution should rather be applied to their circumstances, than its authority enforced with violence in those very parts where its reason became wholly inapplicable.

Other methods were then recommended and followed, as infallible means of restoring peace and order.  We looked upon them to be, what they have since proved to be, the cause of inflaming discontent into disobedience, and resistance into revolt.  The subversion of solemn, fundamental charters, on a suggestion of abuse, without citation, evidence, or hearing,—­the total suspension of the commerce of a great maritime city, the capital of a great maritime province, during the pleasure of the crown,—­the establishment of a military force, not accountable to the ordinary tribunals of the country in which it was kept up,—­these and other proceedings at that time, if no previous cause of dissension had subsisted, were sufficient to produce great troubles:  unjust at all times, they were then irrational.

We could not conceive, when disorders had arisen from the complaint of one violated right, that to violate every other was the proper means of quieting an exasperated people.  It seemed to us absurd and preposterous to hold out, as the means of calming a people in a state of extreme inflammation, and ready to take up arms, the austere law which a rigid conqueror would impose as the sequel of the most decisive victories.

Recourse, indeed, was at the same time had to force; and we saw a force sent out, enough to menace liberty, but not to awe opposition,—­tending to bring odium on the civil power, and contempt on the military,—­at once to provoke and encourage resistance.  Force was sent out not sufficient to hold one town; laws were passed to inflame thirteen provinces.