PHILADELPHIA, 1787.

REMARKS on the MANNERS, GOVERNMENT, and DEBT of the United States.

Since the declaration and establishment of a general peace, and since this country has had an opportunity to experience the effects of her independence, events have taken place, which were little expected by the friends of the revolution. It was expected, that on the ratification of peace, by the belligerent powers, America would enjoy perfect political tranquillity. The statesman in his closet, and the divine in his addresses to heaven, predicted and anticipated the happy period, when every man would rest, unmolested, under his own vine and his own fig tree. The merchant foresaw, in vision, the ports of all nations open to his ships, and the returns of a favorable commerce pouring wealth into his coffers. The honest laborer, in the shop and the field, was told that independence and peace would forever remove the fears of oppression, would lighten his burthen, and give him legal security for the uninterrupted possession of his rights. This flattering prospect inspired an irresistible enthusiasm in war. The contention for freedom was long and arduous; the prize was obtained; the delusion vanished, and America is surprized at the disappointment.

Instead of general tranquillity, one State has been involved in a civil war, and most of them are torn with factions, which weaken or destroy the energy of government. Instead of a free commerce with all the world, our trade is every where fettered with restraints and impositions, dictated by foreign interest; and instead of pouring wealth into our country, its present tendency is, to impoverish both the merchant and the public. Instead of legal security of rights under governments of our own choice, and under our own control, we find property at least unsafe, even in our best toned government. Our charters may be wrested from us without a fault, our contracts may be changed or set aside without our consent, by the breath of a popular Legislature. Instead of a dimunition of taxes, our public charges are multiplied; and to the weight of accumulating debts, we are perpetually making accessions by expensiv follies. Instead of a union of States and measures, essential to the welfare of a great nation, each State is jealous of its neighbor, and struggling for the superiority in wealth and importance, at the hazard even of our federal existence.

This is the dark side of our public affairs; but such are the facts. The public and private embarrassments, which are both seen and felt, are the topics of incessant declamation. The rhapsodies of orators, and the publications in gazettes, from the northern to the southern extremity of the United States, concur in deprecating the present state of this country, and communicate the intelligence of our distresses to the whole civilized world. Nor are newspapers the only heralds of our calamities. The contempt of government among one class of men, the silent murmurs of poverty in the peaceful cottage, and numerous bankrupts in every quarter, are irresistible evidence to a thinking mind, that something is wrong.

But declamation is idle, and murmurs fruitless. Time has been when the minds of people were alarmed at the approaches of despotism: Then harangues roused attention; then mobs raised the temple of freedom, and declared themselves ready to be sacrificed upon her altar. But violent passions in the public as well as in the human body, are always transitory. That enthusiasm which was called public spirit, heroic virtue, and love of country, has long ago subsided, and is absorbed in the general steady principle, private interest. That enthusiasm is not to be rekindled. The expostulations of our rulers and patriotic writers, have no more effect in reviving public spirit, than the attraction of a meteor in raising a tide.

Men, who embraced revolution principles, because independence might save a few shillings in taxes, or extend the imaginary sphere of freedom; who expected that peace would place them in a paradise of blessings, where they might riot without the fatigue of exertion; such men had narrow views of the consequence of detaching America from a transatlantic jurisdiction. They viewed but a small part of the great event: They are, they ought to be disappointed. Such men expect effects without causes, and are ready to despond, or commence enemies to a glorious event, because miracles are not wrought to verify their ill founded predictions.

In this view, this insect view of things, the revolution ought to be considered as extremely unfortunate; for to the present generation, it must certainly prove so.

But on the general scale of human happiness, every man of reflection must rejoice at the illustrious event. Even the propriety of the independence of these States, is so obviously dictated by their local situation, that a generous European ought to have consented to the measure on this single principle. But taking into consideration the vast field which is here opened for improvements in science, in government, in religion, and in morals; the philosopher will felicitate himself with the prospect of discoveries favorable to arts and happiness; the statesman will rejoice that there is a retreat from the vassalage of Europe; the divine will bless God that a place has been reserved for an uncorrupted church; and the philanthropist, who compares the yeomanry of America with the peasantry of Europe, will congratulate himself on an event which has removed millions of people from the ambition of princes, and from a participation of the vices, which mark the decline of nations.

The revolution of America, whatever may be the present effects, must, on the universal scale of policy, prove fortunate, not only for the parties, but for mankind in general. The period, however, when this country will realize the happy consequences of her separation, must be remote; probably beyond the lives of the present generation.

It is worth our curiosity to inquire into the causes of our present political evils; not the more obvious causes, which every man sees and laments, but those radical causes which lie hid from common observation; whose operations are imperceptible, but whose effects are visible, even to a vulgar eye.

A fundamental mistake of the Americans has been, that they considered the revolution as completed, when it was but just begun. Having raised the pillars of the building, they ceased to exert themselves, and seemed to forget that the whole superstructure was then to be erected. This country is independent in government; but totally dependent in manners, which are the basis of government. Men seem not to attend to the difference between Europe and America, in point of age and improvement; and are disposed to rush, with heedless emulation, into an imitation of manners, for which we are not prepared.

Every person tolerably well versed in history, knows that nations are often compared to individuals and to vegetables, in their progress from their origin to maturity and decay. The resemblance is striking and just. This progress is as certain in nations as in vegetables; it is as obvious, and its causes more easily understood; in proportion as the secret springs of action in government are more easily explained, than the mechanical principles of vegetation.

This progress therefore being assumed as a conceded fact, suggests a forcible argument against the introduction of European manners into America. The business of men in society is, first, to secure their persons and estates by arms and wholesome laws; then to procure the conveniences of life by arts and labor; but it is in the last stages only of national improvement, when luxury and amusements become public benefits, by dissipating accumulations of wealth, and furnishing employment and food for the poor. And luxury then is not beneficial, except when the wealth of a nation is wasted within itself. It is perhaps always true, that an old civilized nation cannot, with propriety, be the model for an infant nation, either in morals, in manners or fashions, in literature or in government.

The present ambition of Americans is, to introduce as fast as possible, the fashionable amusements of the European courts. Considering the former dependence of America on England, her descent, her connexion and present intercourse, this ambition cannot surprise us. But it must check this ambition to reflect on the consequences. It will not be denied, that there are vices predominant in the most polite cities in Europe, which are not only unknown, but are seldom mentioned in America; and vices that are infamous beyond conception. I presume it will not be denied that there must be an amazing depravation of mind in a nation, where a farce is a publication of more consequence than Milton's Poem; and where an opera dancer, or an Italian singer, receives a salary equal to that of an Ambassador. The facts being known and acknowleged, I presume the consequence will not be denied. Not that this charge is good against every individual; even in the worst times, there will be found many exceptions to the general character of a nation.

If these vices and the depravation of mind do actually exist, it is a proof of a gradual corruption; for there was a time when they did not exist. There was a time when decency was a virtue, even at Venice. The progress is also slow, unless hastened by some external circumstances. It was more than two thousand years from the building of Rome to the pontificate of Alexander the VIth whose naked revelings filled the measure of public vice, and strike the human mind with horror.

A constant increase of wealth is ever followed by a multiplication of vices: This seems to be the destiny of human affairs; wisdom, therefore, directs us to retard, if possible, and not to accelerate the progress of corruption. But an introduction of the fashionable diversions of Europe into America, is an acceleration of the growth of vices which are yet in their infancy, and an introduction of new ones too infamous to be mentioned. A dancing school among the Tuscaroras, is not a greater absurdity than a masquerade in America. A theater, under the best regulations, is not essential to our public and private happiness. It may afford entertainment to individuals; but it is at the expense of private taste and public morals. The great misfortune of all exhibitions of this kind is this; that they reduce all taste to a level. Not only the vices of all classes of people are brought into view, but of all ages and nations. The intrigues of a nobleman, and the scurrility of shoe blacks, are presented to the view of both sexes, of all ages; the vices of the age of Elizabeth and of Charles IId are recorded by the masterly pens of a Shakespeare and a Congreve, and by repeated representation, they are "hung on high," as the poet expresses it, "to poison half mankind." The fact is, that all characters must be presented upon a theater, because all characters are spectators; and a nobleman and a sailor, a dutchess and a washer woman, that attend constantly on the exhibitions of vice, become equally depraved; their tastes will be nearly alike as to vice; the one is as prepared for a crime as the other. It is for this reason, that many of the amusements of nations more depraved than ourselves, are highly pernicious in this country. They carry us forward by hasty strides, to the last stages of corruption; a period that every benevolent man will deprecate and endeavor to retard. This circumstance, the difference in the stages of our political existence, should make us shun the vices which may be politic and even necessary in older states; and endeavor to preserve our manners by being our own standards. By attaching ourselves to foreign manners, we counteract the good effects of the revolution, or rather render them incomplete. A revolution in the form of government, is but a revolution in name; unless attended with a change of principles and manners, which are the springs of government.

This leads me to treat more particularly of the influence of fashions on the interests of these States; an article in which the ladies are deeply interested.

Fashion in itself is a matter of indifference, as affecting neither morals nor politeness. It is of no consequence whether a lady is clad with a gown or a frock; or whether a gentleman appears in public with a cap or a wig. But there may be times and situations in which the most trifling things become important. The practice of imitating foreign modes of dress, cannot cost America less than 100,000l. a year. I speak not of the necessary articles of dress; but merely of changes of fashions.

To understand this fact, it is necessary to advert to the different circumstances of this country, and of the European kingdoms, which we take as our models.

Two circumstances distinguish most of the commercial countries of Europe from America; a feudal division of real property, and manufactures. Where vast estates are hereditary and unalienable, a great part of the people are dependent on the rich, and if the rich do not employ them, they must starve. Thus in England and France, a great landholder possesses a hundred times the property that is necessary for the subsistence of a family; and each landlord has perhaps a hundred families dependent on him for subsistence. On this statement, if the landlord should live penuriously, and supply his own family only with necessaries, all his dependents must starve. In order to subsist the ninety nine families, he must create wants, which their employment must supply; for the natural wants of a few rich people will not furnish employment for great multitudes of poor. Hence the good policy, the necessity of luxury in most European kingdoms. Hence originate all the changes and varieties of fashion. A gentleman or lady in London must not appear in public twice in the same suit. This is a regulation of custom, but it is highly political; for were the nobility and rich gentry to wear out all their clothes, one half the people must be beggars. The fashions of England and France are not merely matter of fancy: Fancy may dictate new and odd figures in dress; but the general design of frequent and continual changes of fashion, is wise systematic policy, at the courts of London and Paris.

But let us see with how little discretion and policy we adopt foreign luxuries. America is a young country, with small inequalities of property, and without manufactures. Few people are here dependent on the rich, for every man has an opportunity of becoming rich himself. Consequently few people are supported by the luxuries of the wealthy; and even these few are mostly foreigners.

But we have no body of manufacturers to support by dissipation. All our superfluities are imported, and the consumption of them in this country enriches the merchants and supports the poor of Europe. We are generous indeed! generous to a fault. This is the pernicious, the fatal effect of our dependence on foreign nations for our manners. We labor day and night, we sacrifice our peace and reputation, we defraud our public creditors, involve ourselves in debts, impoverish our country: Nay, many are willing to become bankrupts and take lodgings in a prison, for the sake of being as foolish as those nations which subsist their poor and grow rich and respectable by their follies.

No objection can be made to rich and elegant dresses among people of affluent circumstances. But perhaps we may safely calculate that one third of the expenses incurred by dress in this country, add nothing either to convenience or elegance.

A new dress is invented in London or Paris, not for the sake of superior elegance, because it frequently happens that a new dress is less rich and elegant than an old one; but for the sake of giving food to manufacturers. That new fashion is sent across the Atlantic; let it be ever so troublesome and uncouth, we admire its novelty; we adopt it because it is fashionable; and merely for a change, that may be made in half an hour by a tailor or a milliner, 20, 30, or 50,000 pounds are drawn from the capital stocks of property in America, to enrich nations which command our commerce and smile at our folly.

But it is not only the wealth of this country that is sacrificed by our servile imitation of other nations; our complaisance often requires us to dispense with good taste.

It will probably be admitted that amidst the infinite variety of dresses which are fashionable, during a course of ten or fifteen years, some of them must be more convenient and elegant than others. True taste in dress consists in setting off the person to the best advantage. That dress which unites the articles of convenience, simplicity and neatness, in the greatest perfection, must be considered as the most elegant. But true taste goes farther; it has reference to age, to shape, to complexion, and to the season of the year. The same dress which adorns a miss of fifteen, will be frightful on a venerable lady of seventy. The same dress will embellish one lady and disfigure another. But the passive disposition of Americans in receiving every mode that is offered them, sometimes reduces all ages, shapes and complexions to a level.

I will not undertake to say that people ought not, in the article of dress, to sacrifice taste to national interest. A sacrifice of that kind, in a manufacturing country, may be laudable; it will at least be pardonable. But in a reverse of situation, in America, where a waste of property and a group of political evils accompany a bad taste, the sacrifice admits of no apology.

It is not unfrequent to hear ladies complain severely of the inconvenience of fashion. Their good sense disapproves and their taste revolts at incumbrances. And yet where is the lady who would not sooner submit to any fatigue, rather than be ridiculous. I speak of ladies particularly; in point of expense, the gentlemens' dresses are exceptionable as well as the ladies; in point of convenience, the ladies are the greatest sufferers by fashion, as their dress admits of the greatest variety of incumbrances.

Perhaps the trouble of conforming entirely to the fashions of Europe is as great a tax upon the ladies, as the expense is to their husbands and parents.

One society of people, the Friends, are happily released from the tyranny and inconveniencies of fashion. However disagreeable the restraints of their religion may appear in other respects, it must be acknowledged that, in point of dress, the rules of their society conform to purity of taste.

Perhaps we may safely estimate, that the ladies of that society dress with two thirds of the expense which other ladies incur, even when the articles of their dress are equally rich and expensiv; the difference is saved by neglecting superfluous finery. And are not their taste in dress, their simplicity and neatness, universally admired? Does it not set off their persons to the best advantage? Do not gentlemen almost universally give the preference to the taste of Quaker ladies? Nay, I would ask, whether other ladies themselves, under a strong bias in favor of a tawdry dress, are not frequently lavishing encomiums on the superior elegance and convenience of the Friends' dresses? And how often do they sigh beneath the trouble of their own dress, and wish that particular articles would go out of fashion.

If there is any thing on earth, which can make a rational mind disgusted with society, it is that cruel necessity, which obliges a person to sacrifice both his interest and his taste, or run the hazard of being laughed at for his singularity.

In some Asiatic countries, people never change their modes of dress. This uniformity, which continues for ages, proceeds from the same principles as the monthly changes in England and France; both proceed from necessity and policy. Both arise from good causes which operate in the several governments; that is, the manners of each government are subservient to its particular interest. The reverse is true of this country. Our manners are wholly subservient to the interest of foreign nations. Where do we find, in dress or equipage, the least reference to the circumstances of this country! Is it not the sole ambition of the Americans to be just like other nations, without the means of supporting the resemblance? We ought not to harbor any spleen or prejudice against foreign kingdoms. This would be illiberal. They are wise, they are respectable. We should despise the man that piques himself on his own country, and treats all others with indiscriminate contempt. I wish to see much less jealousy and ill nature subsisting between the Americans and English. But in avoiding party spirit and resentment on the one hand, we should be very careful of servility on the other. There is a manly pride in true independence, which is equally remote from insolence and meanness; a pride that is characteristic of great minds. Have Americans discovered this pride since the declaration of peace? We boast of independence, and with propriety. But will not the same men, who glory in this great event, even in the midst of a gasconade, turn to a foreigner and ask him, "what is the latest fashion in Europe!" He has worn an elegant suit of clothes for six weeks; he might wear it a few weeks longer, but it has not so many buttons as the last suit of my lord ——: He throws it aside, and gets one that has. The suit costs him a sum of money; but it keeps him in the fashion, and feeds the poor of Great Britain or France. It is a singular phenomenon, and to posterity it will appear incredible, that a nation of heroes, who have conquered armies, and raised an empire, should not have the spirit to say—we will wear our clothes as we please.

Let it not be thought that this is a trifling subject; a matter of no consequence. Mankind are governed by opinion; and while we flatter ourselves that we enjoy independence, because no foreign power can impose laws upon us, we are groaning beneath the tyranny of opinion; a tyranny more severe than the laws of monarchs; a dominion voluntary indeed, but for that reason, more effectual; an authority of manners which commands our services, and sweeps away the fruits of our labor.

I repeat the sentiment with which I began; the revolution of America is yet incomplete. We are now in a situation to answer all the purposes of the European nations; independent in government, and dependent in manners. They give us their fashions, they direct our taste to make a market for their commodities; they engross the profits of our industry, without the hazard of defending us, or the expense of supporting our civil government. A situation more favorable to their interest, or more repugnant to our own, they could not have chosen for us, nor we embraced.

If such is the state of facts, and if the influence of foreign manners does actually defeat the purposes of the revolution; if our implicit submission to the prevailing taste of European courts, involves individuals and the public in unnecessary expenses, it is in the power of a few influential characters in each of our commercial cities to remedy the whole evil. And in a reformation of this kind, the ladies would have no inconsiderable share.

It is really a matter of astonishment, that the pride of the Americans has so long submitted tamely to a foreign yoke. Aside of all regard to interest, we should expect that the idea of being a nation of apes would mortify minds accustomed to freedom of thought, and would prompt them to spurn their chains.

Have the ladies in America no ingenuity, no taste? Do they not understand what dresses are most convenient and elegant? What modes are best adapted to the climate, or other circumstances of this country? They most certainly do. Foreigners acknowlege that the nativ beauty and understanding of the American ladies are not excelled in any country, and equalled in very few. And one would imagin that the modes of embellishing so many personal charms ought not, in all cases, to be prescribed by the milliners and manteau makers on the other side of the Atlantic. A noble pride should forbid that ladies of birth and breeding should be wholly indebted to the taste of others, for the decorations of their beauty.

When the gentlemen in America shall exercise spirit enough to be their own judges of taste in dress: When they have wisdom to consult the circumstances of this country, and fortitude enough to retain a fashion as long as their own interest requires, instead of changing it when other nations direct: When the ladies shall exercise the rights of their sex, and say, we will give the laws of fashion to our own nation, instead of receiving them from another, we will perform our part of the revolution: When both sexes shall take more pride and pleasure in being their own standards, than in being the humble imitators of those who riot on the profits of our commerce; we shall realize a new species of independence; an independence flattering to generous minds, and more productive of wealth than all the laws of power, or the little arts of national policy. And in this revolution of manners, there needs not any sacrifice of real dress. I will venture to estimate, that the retrenching of superfluous articles; articles which constitute no part of dress, and serve but to disfigure an elegant person; articles that are made and sent to us to support the sixpenny day laborers of Europe; I say, a retrenching of these trifling articles only, would be an annual saving to America sufficient to pay one half of the interest of our federal debt. We can throw no blame on foreign nations; they are wise, and profit by our want of spirit and taste.

On the footing that all mankind are brethren, perhaps it is generous in us to assist foreigners, who are a part of the Great Family.

It is to be wished, however, that we might first discharge our honest debts: That the soldier, whose labor and blood have purchased our empire, and whose services have been repaid with a shadow of reward, might be indemnified by the justice of his country: That the widow and orphan might at least receive the stipulated satisfaction for losses which money cannot repair. Yes, let us first be just, and then generous. When we have no better use for our superfluous property, then let us bestow it upon our wretched brethren of the human race. They will repay our charity with gratitude, and bless God that he has peopled one half the world with a race of freemen, to enrich the tyrants, and support the vassals of the other.

In another particular, our dependence on nations farther advanced in society than ourselves, has a very unhappy effect.

I assume it as a fact, conceded by all philosophers and historians, that there has been, in every civilized nation, a particular period of time, peculiarly favorable to literary researches; and that in this period, language and taste arrive to purity; the best authors flourish, and genius is exerted to benefit mankind.

This period in Greece was the age of Themistocles, immediately after the invasion of Xerxes. In Rome, it was the reign of Augustus CÆsar, when a revolution had left the empire in a state of tranquillity. In France, the reign of Louis the XIVth was distinguished for the number and eminence of its authors, and the correctness of taste. The corresponding period of taste in England, commenced about the middle of the sixteenth century, and ended with the reign of George the IId. Scotland was later in improvement; but perhaps has now seen its meridian splendor.

There seems to be a certain point of improvement beyond which every step in refinement is corruption; moral sentiment is postponed to wit, and sense is sacrificed to sound. This has been the case in all nations, and is now true of England. The candid among the nation acknowlege and lament the decline of true taste and science. Very few valuable writings appear in the present age; plays, novels, farces, and compilations fill the catalogue of new publications; and the library of a man of fashion consists of Chesterfield's Letters, Tristram Shandy, and a few comedies.

A gentleman in high office in London, in a letter to an eminent literary character in America, which I had the honor to read, informs, "that so low is the taste of the nation, that were Milton's Poem to be now first published, it would not find purchasers: Music and painting are the only arts that have royal encouragement." He says further, "that there is a national combination to oppose the fame of every American art, production and character." I would hope that this account is an exaggeration of the truth; but we have the best testimony to convince us that every thing is sacrificed to amusement and pleasure.

We ought not therefore to form our taste after such models: In order to write, think and act with propriety, we should go back half a century, to the style and morality of Addison and his cotemporaries; there we may find the most perfect models.

By making the present taste of Europe our standards, we not only debase our own, but we check the attempts of genius in this country.

Eminence is sometimes apt to impose errors upon people, whose respect for the character may silence all scruple, and prevent them from examining into the grounds of his opinion. Such is the implicit confidence reposed in the opinions of certain celebrated writers, that when an American ventures to call in question a received principle or opinion of theirs, his countrymen charge him with arrogance, and exclaim, how should this man be as good a judge of the subject as a foreigner! Such false notions of the perfection of particular character, fetter the mind, and in concert with credulity and idleness, prepare it for the reception of any errors, however enormous.

This same veneration for eminent foreigners, and the bewitching charms of fashion, have led the Americans to adopt the modern corruptions of our language. Very seldom have men examined the structure of the language, to find reasons for their practice. The pronunciation and use of words have been subject to the same arbitrary or accidental changes, as the shape of their garments. My lord wears a hat of a certain size and shape; he pronounces a word in a certain manner; and both must be right, for he is a fashionable man. In Europe this is right in dress; and men who have not an opportunity of learning the just rules of our language, are in some degree excuseable for imitating those whom they consider as superiors. But in men of science, this imitation can hardly be excused.

Our language was spoken in purity about eighty years ago; since which time, great numbers of faults have crept into practice about the theater and court of London. An affected erroneous pronunciation has in many instances taken place of the true; and new words or modes of speech have succeeded the ancient correct English phrases.

Thus we have, in the modern English pronunciation, their natshures, conjunctshures, constitshutions, and tshumultshuous legislatshures; and a long catalogue of fashionable improprieties. These are a direct violation of the rules of analogy and harmony; they offend the ear, and embarrass the language. Time was, when these errors were unknown; they were little known in America before the revolution. I presume we may safely say, that our language has suffered more injurious changes in America, since the British army landed on our shores, than it had suffered before, in the period of three centuries. The bucks and bloods tell us that there is no proper standard in language; that it is all arbitrary. The assertion, however, serves but to show their ignorance. There are, in the language itself, decisive reasons for preferring one pronunciation to another; and men of science should be acquainted with these reasons. But if there were none, and every thing rested on practice, we should never change a general practice without substantial reasons: No change should be introduced, which is not an obvious improvement.

But our leading characters seem to pay no regard to rules, or their former practice. To know and embrace every change made in Great Britain, whether right or wrong, is the extent of their inquiries, and the height of their ambition. It is to this deference we may ascribe the long catalogue of errors in pronunciation and of false idioms which disfigure the language of our mighty fine speakers. And should this imitation continue, we shall be hurried down the stream of corruption, with older nations, and our language, with theirs, be lost in an ocean of perpetual changes. The only hope we can entertain is, that America, driven by the shock of a revolution, from the rapidity of the current, may glide along near the margin with a gentler stream, and sometimes be wafted back by an eddy.

The foregoing remarks suggest some of the causes which operate to defeat the true end of the revolution. Every man sees and feels our political embarrassments; the foes of the revolution ascribe them all to that event, and the friends charge them upon the enmity and resentment of our parent country. Both are wrong. The revolution is, and will ultimately prove, a happy event for us and for the world. The English, as a nation, are wise and respectable: As citizens of the world, we should esteem them: As a commercial people, we should cultivate a friendly intercourse with them; but as a foreign nation, whose political circumstances are very different from ours, we should not make them, in all cases, our standard. I repeat the declaration I before made: The independence of this country is incomplete: There has been a total change in government, with little or no change in the principles which give energy to the operations of government.

In the preceding remarks, I have endeavored to shew in what respect the revolution of America is yet incomplete, and that an independence of manners and opinion is necessary to give full effect to an independence of government. I propose now to make some remarks on government, to state the effects of the revolution on the morals of people, and the influence of money on mens' sense of justice and moral obligation.

It is perhaps a fundamental principle of government, that men are influenced more by habit, than by any abstract ideas of right and wrong. Few people examin into the propriety of particular usages or laws; or if they examin, few indeed are capable of comprehending their propriety. But every man knows what is a law or general practice, and he conforms to it, not because it is right or best, but because it has been the practice. It is for this reason that habits of obedience should not be disturbed. There are perhaps in every government, some laws and customs, which, when examined on theoretical principles, will be found unjust and even impolitic. But if the people acquiesce in those laws and customs, if they are attached to them by habit, it is wrong in the Legislature to attempt an innovation which shall alarm their apprehensions. There are multitudes of absurdities practised in society, in which people are evidently happy. Arraign those absurdities before the tribunal of examination; people may be convinced of their impropriety; they may even be convinced that better schemes may be projected; and yet it might be impossible to unite their opinions so as to establish different maxims. On the other hand, there are many good institutions, in which, however, there may be theoretical faults, which, if called into public view, and artfully represented, might shake the best government on earth.

Speculativ philosophers and historians have often described, and sometimes ridiculed the warmth with which nations have defended errors in religion and government. With the most profound deference for wise and respectable men, I must think they are guilty of a mistake; and that the errors which nations fight to defend, exist only in the heads of these theorists. Whatever speculation may tell us, experience and the peace of society, require us to consider every thing as right, which a nation believes to be so. Every institution, every custom, may be deemed just and proper, which does not produce inconveniencies that the bulk of mankind may see and feel. The tranquillity of society therefore should never be disturbed for a philosophical distinction. It will perhaps be objected, that these doctrines, if practised, would prevent all improvements, in science, religion and government. By no means; but they point out the method in which all improvements should be made, when opinion and fixed habits are to be overthrown, or changed. They show that all reformation should be left to the natural progress of society, or to the conviction of the mind. They show the hazard and impracticability of making changes, before the minds of the body of the people are prepared for the innovation. I speak not of despotic governments, where the will of the prince is enforced by an army; and yet even absolute tyrants have been assassinated for not attending to the spirit and habits of their subjects.

In vain do rulers oppose the general opinion of the people. By such opposition, Philip IId, of Spain, kept one part of his subjects, for half a century, butchering the other, and in the end, lost one third of his dominions. By not regarding the change of habits in the nation, Charles Ist, of England, lost his head. By carrying his changes too far, Cromwell began to oppose the spirit of the nation, and had he lived to prosecute his system, that spirit would, in a few years, have brought his neck to the block. The general spirit of the nation restored to the throne, the son of the prince, whom that spirit had but a few years before arraigned and condemned. By opposing that spirit, James was obliged to leave his kingdom, and the sense of the nation still excludes the family which, by their own law of succession, has the best title to the throne. But there is no prescription against general opinion; no right that can enter the list against the sense of a nation; that sense, which after all our reasoning, will forever determin what is best.

The truth of these remarks is proved by examples in this country. An immense revenue might have been drawn from America without resistance, in almost any method but that which the British parliament adopted. But their first attempts were made upon articles of common necessity; the attempts were too visible; the people felt and resisted. Their apprehensions were alarmed; their fears, whether well founded or imaginary, were multiplied and confirmed by newspaper rhapsodies, and finally produced a combined opposition to all British taxation. Then Great Britain should have compounded; she did not; she opposed the general sense of three millions of her subjects, and lost the whole.

A dispute existed between Connecticut and Pensylvania, respecting a tract of land; a federal court decided the jurisdiction, or State claim, in favor of Pensylvania; five thousand inhabitants, seated on the lands, acknowlege the jurisdiction, but contend that their original purchase, and subsequent labor, entitle them to the lands. Notwithstanding the invalidity of their State claim, the settlers determin to maintain their lands. The question of right is at once suspended, and the only inquiry is, which is the best policy, to indemnify a few individuals by a pecuniary composition, or sacrifice five thousand subjects. This question, left to the commonwealth, would be decided by a great majority, in favor of the settlers, and against the very principles of right on which the State holds the jurisdiction.

I am not competent to judge of the merits of the dispute between New York and Vermont; but if the usurpation of Vermont were a conceded fact, and that usurpation to be defended by arms, and the question of granting them independence were left to the State of New York, I am confident that nine tenths of the people would decide for the independence of Vermont against their own rights.

Thus it often happens, that a general opinion, grounded on rational expediency, will, and ought to decide political questions, contrary to the strict principles of justice and equity.

I would, by no means, be understood to defend, by such doctrines, the insurrections of a neighboring State. I reprobate every thing that wears the least appearance of opposition to lawful authority. It is evident however, that the Legislature of Massachusetts were too inattentive to the general spirit of the State. The murmurs of the people were heard long before they broke out into rebellion, and were treated with too much neglect. They were a proof at least that something was wrong. This the Legislature acknowleged in their late acts, and the complaints of the populace might once have been silenced by such conciliatory measures.

But an opposition so violent must suddenly cease, or acquire system. In the latter case, the demands of the insurgents will rise in proportion to their strength; they will ask unreasonable concessions, and the sword must decide their claims. The insurgents took wrong steps to obtain redress; they should have rested their agrievances on petitions, and the event of an election; but one rash step leads to a second, and to a third. These fatal effects of popular discontent afford one useful lesson, that rulers should not attempt to carry a measure against the general voice of a people.[35] But a question will arise, how far may the people be opposed, when their schemes are evidently pernicious? I answer, this can never happen thro design; and errors, even of the populace, may gradually be removed. If the people cannot be convinced, by reason and argument, of the impolicy or injustice of a favorite scheme, we have only to wait for the consequences to produce conviction. All people are not capable of just reasoning on the great scale of politics; but all can feel the inconveniencies of wrong measures, and evils of this kind generally furnish their own remedy. All popular Legislatures are liable to great mistakes. Many of the acts of the American Legislatures, respecting money and commerce, will, to future generations, appear incredible. After repeated experiments, people will be better informed, and astonished that their fathers could make such blunders in legislation.

If the people of this State[36] are not already convinced, they certainly will be, that the addition of 150,000l. of paper, to the current specie of the State, did not increase the permanent value of circulating medium a single farthing. They were perhaps told that such a sum of paper would shut up the specie, or enable the merchant to export it; but their jealousy made them believe these the suggestions of interest; and nothing but the experiment could satisfy their wishes. Every man of reflection must regret that he is subject to the evils consequent on popular mistakes in judgement; but this is the price of our independence and our forms of government.

Let us attend to the immediate and necessary consequences of the American revolution.

So great an event as that of detaching millions of people from their parent nation, could not have been effected without the operation of powerful causes. Nothing but a series of real or imaginary evils could have shaken the habits by which we were governed, and produced a combined opposition against the power of Great Britain. I shall not enumerate any of these evils; but observe that such evils, by twenty years operation upon the fears or feelings of the Americans, had alienated their affections or weakened those habits of respect, by which they were predisposed to voluntary obedience. When a government has lost respect, it has lost the main pillar of its authority. Not even a military force can supply the want of respect among subjects. A change of sentiment prepares the way for a change of government, and when that change of sentiment had become general in America, nothing could have prevented a revolution.

But it is more easy to excite fears than to remove them. The jealousy raised in the minds of Americans against the British government, wrought a revolution; but the spirit did not then subside; it changed its object, and by the arts of designing men, and the real distresses consequent on such a political storm, was directed against our own governments. The restraints imposed by respect and habits of obedience were broken thro, and the licentious passions of men set afloat.

Nothing can be so fatal to morals and the peace of society, as a violent shock given to public opinion or fixed habits. Polemic disputes have often destroyed the friendship of a church, and filled it, not only with rancor, but with immorality. Public opinion therefore in religion and government, the great supports of society, should never be suddenly unhinged. The separation of America, however, from all dependence on European government, could not have been effected without previously attacking and changing opinion. It was an essential step, but the effects of it will not easily be repaired. That independence of spirit which preceded the commencement of hostilities, and which victory has strengthened; that love of dominion, inherent in the mind of man, which our forms of government are continually flattering; that licentiousness of inquiry which a jealousy of rights first produced and still preserves, cannot be controled and subdued, but by a long series of prudent and vigorous measures.

Perhaps the present age will hardly see the restoration of perfect tranquillity. But the spirit and principles, which wrought our separation from Great Britain, will mostly die with the present generation; the next generation will probably have new habits of obedience to our new governments; and habits will govern them, with very little support from law.

The force of habit in government is most strikingly illustrated by the example of Connecticut. Most of the laws, customs and institutions, which the people brought with them from England, or which they introduced, on their first settlement, remain to this day, with such small alterations only as would naturally be made in the progress of society and population.

The government of Connecticut had formerly little more than a nominal dependence on England; independence therefore required but a little change of the old constitution. The habits of the people have not been materially changed; their respect for the government has not been suspended nor diminished. It would therefore be extremely difficult to raise an insurrection in that State against their own government;[37] for they have not been accustomed to dispute the propriety of their established maxims and laws. Whatever alterations in their constitution, a discerning Legislator might suggest, it would be highly impolitic to attempt any changes, which should disturb public opinion or alarm apprehension. When a law or custom becomes inconvenient, the people will feel the evil and apply a remedy.

Most of the other States had new constitutions of government to form; they had a kind of interregnum; an interval, when respect for all government was suspended; an interval fatal in the last degree, to morals and social confidence. This interval between the abolition of the old constitution and the formation of a new one, lasted longer in Massachusetts than in the other States, and there the effects are most visible. But perhaps it is impossible to frame a constitution of government, in the closet, which will suit the people; for it is frequent to find one, the most perfect in theory, the most objectionable in practice. Hence we often hear popular complaints against the present governments in America: And yet these may proceed rather from the novelty of the obedience required, than from any real errors or defects in the systems: It may be nothing but the want of habit which makes people uneasy; the same articles which now produce clamors and discontent, may, after twenty years practice, give perfect satisfaction. Nay, the same civil regulation, which the present generation may raise a mob to resist, the next generation may raise a mob to defend.

But perhaps a more immediate and powerful cause of a corruption of social principles, is a fluctuation of money. Few people seem to attend to the connexion between money and morals; but it may doubtless be proved to the satisfaction of every reflecting mind, that a sudden increase of specie in a country, and frequent and obvious changes of value, are more fruitful sources of corruption of morals than any events that take place in a community.

America began the late war without funds of money, and its circulating specie was very inconsiderable. Commerce was regular, and speculation, a term unknown to the body of the people.

The emission of paper was an obvious and necessary expedient; yet it was bad policy to throw vast sums into circulation without taking some measures to recall it. It was the fate of America to receive in bills of credit, and in the course of three or four years, about twenty times the nominal value of its current specie; the bills depreciated in the same proportion, and the real value of the medium continued the same.

The first visible effect of an augmentation of the medium and the consequent fluctuation of value, was, a host of jockies, who followed a species of itinerant commerce; and subsisted upon the ignorance and honesty of the country people; or in other words, upon the difference in the value of the currency, in different places. Perhaps we may safely estimate, that not less than 20,000 men in America, left honest callings, and applied themselves to this knavish traffic. A sudden augmentation of currency flattered people with the prospect of accumulating property without labor. The first effect of too much money is to check manual labor, the only permanent source of wealth. Industry, which secures subsistence and advances our interest by slow and regular gains, is the best preservative of morals; for it keeps men employed, and affords them few opportunities of taking unfair advantages. A regular commerce has nearly the same effect as agriculture or the mechanic arts; for the principles are generally fixed and understood.

Speculation has the contrary effect. As its calculations for profit depend on no fixed principles, but solely on the different value of articles in different parts of the country, or accidental and sudden variations of value, it opens a field for the exercise of ingenuity in taking advantage of these circumstances. The speculator may begin with honest intentions; and may justify his business, by saying, that he injures no man, when he givs the current value of an article in one place, and sells it for its current value in another; altho in this case he is a useless member of society, as he livs upon the labor of others, without earning a farthing. But he does not stop here; he takes an advantage of ignorance and necessity; he will, if possible, monopolize an article to create a necessity. Repeated opportunities of this kind gradually weaken the force of moral obligation; and nine persons of ten, who enter into the business of speculation with a good character, will, in a few years, lose their principles, and probably, their reputation.

Speculation is pernicious to morals, in proportion as its effects are extensiv. Speculation in the English funds is practised on principles destructiv of justice and morals; but it consists in the transfer of large sums; the contingencies on which it depends are not frequent, and the business is confined to a few sharpers in the metropolis. Such a speculation affects not the body of the people. The medium circulating in the kingdom, has a fixed permanent value, and affords no opportunities for irregular gains. Very different is speculation in America. Here its objects are in every person's hands; changes of value are frequent; opportunities of gain, numberless; and the evil pervades the community. The country swarms with speculators, who are searching all places, from the stores of the wealthy, to the recesses of indigence, for opportunities of making lucrativ bargains. Not a tavern can we enter, but we meet crowds of these people, who wear their character in their countenances.

But the speculators are not the only men whose character and principles are exposed by such a state of the currency; the honest laborer and the regular merchant are often tempted to forsake the established principles of advance. Every temptation of this kind attacks the moral principles, and exposes men to small deviations from the rectitude of commutativ justice.

Such are the sources of corruption in commercial intercourse. A relaxation of principle, in one instance, leads to every species of vice, and operates till its causes cease to exist, or till all the supports of social confidence are subverted. It is remarked by people very illiterate and circumscribed in their observation, that there is not now the same confidence between man and man, which existed before the war. It is doubtless true; this distrust of individuals, a general corruption of manners, idleness, and all its train of fatal consequences, may be resolved into two causes: The sudden flood of money during the late war, and a constant fluctuation of the value of the currencies.

The effects of a sudden augmentation of the quantity of money in circulation were so obvious, during the war, and the example is so recent, that the subject requires no illustration, but a recollection of facts. Yet there is an example recorded in the History of France, so exactly in point, that I cannot omit it.

During the regency of the Duke of Orleans, one Law, who had fled from punishment in Scotland, and taken refuge in France, obtained, by his address, a great share of confidence in the councils of the regent. He formed a plan of drawing all the specie from circulation, and issuing bills upon the royal treasury. It is not necessary to name the expedients he used to effect his purpose. It is sufficient to observe, that by various methods, he drew most of the specie of the kingdom into the public treasury, and issued bills to about one hundred times the value of the specie, which had before circulated. The notes or securities depreciated as they were thrown into circulation, like our continental currency. The nature of a medium of trade, it seems, was not well understood: Such a sudden depreciation was a surprising phenomenon at that period; men of property, who were the holders of the paper, were alarmed; the kingdom was in confusion. When the bills had sunk to a fifth of their value, a royal edict was issued, ordaining that the remaining specie in circulation should be sunk to a level with paper. This resembles, in some respects, the regulation of prices in America. An edict, so rash and absurd, increased the evils it was meant to remedy, and filled the kingdom with clamor.

In a short time, the paper was sunk as low as our continental currency, before its death.

The confusion was general; the regent and Law were obliged to fly the kingdom; and both died in obscurity, the one in Italy, and the other, if I mistake not, in the Netherlands. In France there was a total change of property; poor men made fortunes by speculation, and the rich were beggared. The result of the whole was, that the paper was called in at a discount, by means similar to the forty for one act of the United States.

But the principal view I have in stating this example is, to show the effect of a sudden inundation of money upon industry and morals. No sooner did the nation feel an increase of the quantity of money, but the kingdom was overrun with speculators; men who left useful occupations, for the prospect of rapid accumulations of wealth. Knavery, over reaching, idleness, prodigality, and every kind of vice prevailed, and filled the kingdom with distress, confusion, and poverty. The South Sea bubble, in England, was a farce of a similar kind, but its effects were less extensiv.

The continental currency was not the sole cause of the idleness and speculation, which prevailed in this country, about the years 1780, 1781, and 1782. Vast quantities of specie were introduced by the French army, by the Spanish trade, and by a clandestine intercourse with the British garrisons. At the close of the war, there was more than double the quantity of gold and silver in the country, which was necessary for the purposes of a regular commerce.

This extraordinary circulation of specie had its usual, its certain effect; it prompted multitudes to quit manual labor for trade. This circumstance, in conjunction with the disbanding of the army, which left great numbers of men without employment, and with a rage for foreign goods, which was always strong, and was then increased by a long war, filled our commercial towns with hosts of adventurers in business. The consequent influx of goods and enormous credit necessary to obtain them, are evils that deeply affect this country. I will not attempt a detail of the state of commerce in the United States; but observe that the necessary exportation of specie was the happiest event that could befal the United States; the only event that could turn industry into its proper channel, and reduce the commerce of the country to a proportion with the agriculture.

Dissipation was another consequence of a flood of money. No country perhaps on earth can exhibit such a spirit of dissipation among men, who derive their support from business, as America. It is supposed by good judges, that the expenses of subsistence, dress and equipage, were nearly doubled in the commercial towns, the two first years of the peace. I have no doubt the support of the common people was enhanced twenty five per cent. This augmentation of expenses, with a dimunition of productiv industry, are the consequences of too much money, and a scarcity is our only remedy. Short sighted people complain of the present scarcity; but it is the only hope of our political salvation; and that Legislature which ventures to remove popular complaints, by a coinage of great quantities of specie, or by its substitute, paper, checks industry, keeps alive a spirit of dissipation, and retards the increase of solid wealth. If this has been necessary, it is a necessity sincerely to be lamented.

But there is one source of idleness and corruption, which is general in America, and bids fair to be of long duration. I refer to the different species of federal and State securities, which are every where diffused, and of fluctuating value. These evidences of our debts open such prospects for rapid accumulations of property to every class of people, that men cannot withstand the temptation: Thousands are drawn from useful occupations into a course of life, which cannot possibly benefit society; which must render them useless, and probably will render them bad men, and dangerous members of a community.

What remedy can be applied to so great an evil, it is not for me to determin. But if I may offer my sentiments freely, I must acknowlege that I think no measure can produce so much mischief, as the circulation of a depreciated changeable currency. Let all our debts be placed on the footing of bank stock, and made transferable only at the treasury; or let the present evidences of it be called in, and new notes issued, payable only to the creditor or original holder; or let the securities be purchased at their current discount, let some method be adopted to draw them from circulation; for they destroy public and private confidence; they cut the sinews of industry; they operate like a slow poison, dissolving the stamina of government, moral principles.

No paper should circulate in a commercial country, which is not a representativ of ready cash; it must at least command punctual interest, and security of the principal when demanded. Without these requisits, all notes will certainly depreciate. Most of our public securities want all the requisits of a paper currency. But if they did not; if they were equal in value to bank notes or specie, still the sums are much too large for a circulating medium in America. The amount of the continental and State certificates, with the emissions of paper by particular States, cannot be less than seventy millions of dollars, which is seven times the sum necessary for a circulation.

Were they equal in value to gold and silver, the whole medium would depreciate, specie as well as paper. But as they want every requisit of a paper currency, the whole depreciation falls upon the securities.

An alarming consequence of the State of our public debt remains to be considered. Want of confidence in the public, added to the vast quantity of paper, has sunk it to a third, sixth, or eighth part of its nominal value. Most of the creditors of the public have parted with their securities at a great discount, and are thus robbed of the monies which they earned by the sweat of the brow. Men of property have purchased them for a trifle, and in some States receive the interest in specie. In Massachusetts, this is the case with respect to some part of the State debt. When a man buys a note of twenty shillings value for five, and receives the interest, six per cent. in specie, he in fact receives twenty four per cent. on his money.

This is one source of the insurrection in Massachusetts. The people feel the injustice of paying such an interest to men who earned but a small part of it, and whose sole merit is, that they have more money than their fellow citizens who suffer the loss by depreciation. Those men in particular, who fought for our independence, or loaned their property to save the country, view with indignant resentment, that law which obliges them to pay twenty four per cent. interest on the securities, which they have sold for a fourth, or an eighth part of their honest demands.

This cannot justify the violent steps taken by the people; because petitions, and united firmness in a constitutional way, would have procured redress. But I state the facts to shew the effects of speculation, or rather, of the want of faith in public engagements.

Such are the consequences of a variable medium; neglect to industry; application to irregular commerce; relaxation of principles in social intercourse; distrust of individuals; loss of confidence in the public, and of respect for laws; innumerable acts of injustice between man and man, and between the State and the subject; popular uneasiness, murmurs and insurrections. And such effects will exist till their cause shall be removed. Not the creation of a Supreme Power over the United States, is an object of more importance, than the annihilation of every species of fluctuating currency.

That instability of law, to which republics are prone, is another source of corruption. Multiplication and changes of law have a great effect in weakening the force of government, by preventing or destroying habits. Law acquires force by a steady operation, and government acquires dignity and respect, in proportion to the uniformity of its proceedings. Necessity perhaps has made our federal and provincial governments frequently shift their measures, and the unforeseen or unavoidable variations of public securities, with the impossibility of commanding the resources of the continent, to fulfil engagements, all predict a continuation of the evil. But the whole wisdom of Legislatures should be exerted to devise a system of measures which may preclude the necessity of changes that tend to bring government into contempt.

A mild or lax execution of law may also have a bad effect in lessening the respect for its officers. In a monarchy, there is no reasoning with the executive; the will of the prince inspires terror. In our governments, the officers are often familiar, and will even delay justice as long as possible to assist the prisoner.

In some of the eastern States, the frequency and mildness of laws, have introduced very singular habits. The people of Connecticut respect the laws as much as any people; they would not be guilty of disobedience; they mean generally to pay their debts, but are not very anxious to be punctual. They suppose a creditor can wait for his money longer than the period when it is due, and think it hard if he will not.[38]

This mild execution of law, and a consequential habit of dilatoriness, which arise from the spirit of equality, are still prevalent amongst the body of the people. These gave rise to the late incorporation of several commercial towns, with large powers; an expedient which has answered the purpose of giving to commerce the advantage of energy and dispatch in the collection of debts. As most of the business is done in the cities, this effect will gradually extend itself, and form different habits.

The great misfortune of the multiplicity of laws and frequency of litigation, is, that they weaken a respect for the executiv authority, destroy the principle of honor, and transfer the disgrace, which ought to follow delinquency in payment, from a man's reputation, to the administration of justice. The lawyers and courts are impeached, when the whole blame ought to fall upon the debtor for his impunctuality. Honor, a substitute for honesty, has more influence upon men than law; for in the one case, a man's character is at stake, and in the other, his property. When a man's character suffers not, by a failure of engagements, and by a public prosecution, the collection of debts must be slow. But when a man's reputation is suspended on the punctual discharge of his contracts, he will spare no pains to do it; and this is or ought to be the case in all commercial countries.

Extensiv credit, in a popular government, is always pernicious, and may be fatal. When the people are deeply or generally involved, they have power and strong temptations to introduce an abolition of debts; an agrarian law, or that modern refinement on the Roman plan, which is a substitute for both, a paper currency, issued on depreciating principles. Rhode Island is a melancholy proof of this truth, and New Hampshire narrowly escaped the deplorable evils. In governments like ours, it is policy to make it the interest of people to be honest. In short, the whole art of governing consists in binding each individual by his particular interest, to promote the aggregate interest of the community.

Massachusetts affords a striking example of the danger incurred by too many private debts. During the war the operation of justice was necessarily suspended, and debts were constantly multiplying and accumulating. When law came to be rigorously enforced, the people were distressed beyond measure, particularly in the western counties, where people are poorer than in the parts of the State better settled, and nearer to market. These private debts crowded hard, and operated with the demands of the federal creditors, to push the people into violent measures.

The planters in Virginia owe immense sums of money to the British merchants. What is the consequence? a law, suspending the collection of British debts. The loss of their slaves is the ostensible excuse for this law; but a more solid reason must be, the utter impossibility of immediately discharging the debts. In our governments the men who owe the money, make the laws; and a general embarrassment of circumstances is too strong a temptation to evade or suspend the performance of justice. For this reason, the wisdom of the Legislature might cooperate with the interest of the merchant, to check a general credit. In some cases it might be safe and wise to withdraw the protection of law from debts of certain descriptions. It is an excellent law in one State, which ordains, that no tavern debt, of more than two days standing, shall be recoverable by law. It prevents tavern haunting and its consequences, idleness, drunkenness and quarrels. Perhaps laws of this kind have the best effect in introducing punctual payments. Their first effect is to prevent credit; but they gradually change a man's regard for his property, to a more activ and efficient principle, an attention to his character. In the present anarchy in Massachusetts, monied men get credit with the merchant, and are punctual to fulfil engagements, as they are sensible that the merchant relies solely on their honor. The certain ultimate tendency of withdrawing the protection of law from particular kinds of debts, is to discourage tricks and evasions, and introduce habits of punctuality in commerce.

The present state of our public credit hath the same effect. Repeated violations of public faith, the circulation of a variable medium of trade, the contempt of law, the perpetual fear of new legislativ schemes for discharging our debts, and of tender laws, have made men very cautious in giving credit, and when they do give it, they depend more on the honor of a man than on any security derived from law. This one happy effect of want of confidence in the public, is some small consolation for an infinite variety of political evils and distresses.

Laws to prevent credit would be beneficial to poor people. With respect to the contraction of debts, people at large, in some measure, resemble children; they are not judges even of their own interest. They anticipate their incomes, and very often, by miscalculation, much more than their incomes. But this is not the worst effect; an easy credit throws them off their guard in their expenses. In general we observe that a slow, laborious acquisition of property, creates a caution in expenditures, and gradually forms the miser. On the other hand, a sudden acquisition of money, either by gambling, lotteries, privateering, or marriage, has a tendency to open the heart, or throw the man off his guard, and thus makes him prodigal in his expenses. Perhaps this is ever the case, except when a penurious habit has been previously formed.

An easy and extensiv credit has a similar effect. When people can possess themselves of property without previous labor, they consume it with improvident liberality. A prudent man will not; but a large proportion of mankind have not prudence and fortitude enough to resist the demands of pride and appetite. Thus they often riot on other men's property, which they would not labor to procure. They form habits of indolence and extravagance, which ruin their families, and impoverish their creditors.

Another effect of extensiv credit, is a multitude of lawyers. Every thing which tends to create disputes, to multiply debts, weaken a regard to commercial engagements, and place the collection of debts on law, rather than on honour, increases the encouragement of lawyers. The profession of law is honorable, and the professors, I scruple not to aver, as liberal, honest and respectable, as any class of men in the State. But their business must be considered as a public evil, except in the drafting of legal instruments, and in some real important disputes. Such is the habit of trusting to law, for the recovery of debts, that, in some of the eastern States, one half or two thirds of the lawyers are mere collectors. They bring forward suits for small debts, that are not disputed; they recover judgement upon default, they take out executions, and live upon their fees.

The evil is not so great in the middle States; but it is great in all the States. Never was there such a rage for the study of law. From one end of the continent to the other, the students of this science are multiplying without number. An infallible proof that the business is lucrativ.

The insurgents in Massachusetts enumerate lawyers among their grievances. They wish the Legislature to limit their number and their demands. Short sighted mortals! They seem not to consider that lawyers grow out of their own follies, and that the only radical remedy for the evil is, to contract no more debts than they can pay, with strict punctuality.

The number of professional men in a State should be as few as possible; for they do not increase the property of the State, but liv on the property acquired by others. There is little danger that the number of clergymen will be too great. In a few instances, religious parties may have multiplied their teachers to too great a number, and perhaps in some parts of the country, a few more ministers of the gospel would be very useful.

Physicians will multiply in proportion to the luxuries and idleness of men. They cannot be limited by law, for people will be as intemperate and as lazy as they please.

But an artful Legislature will take away some of the causes of litigation, and thus curtail the number of lawyers. We may always determin the degree of corruption, in commercial habits, by the number of civil suits in the courts of law. The multiplication of lawyers is a proof of private embarrassments in any State; it is a convincing proof that in America these embarrassments are numberless. The evil is of such magnitude in some States, as to suspend the operation of law, and in all it produces distrust among men, renders property unsafe, and perplexes our mutual intercourse. In this situation, with popular governments, and an unbounded rage for magnificent living, perhaps the only effectual remedy for a multitude of public evils, is the restraining of credit. It might even be useful to destroy all credit on the security of law, except debts of certain descriptions, where mortgages might be given. This would not check business, but it would oblige people to exercise a principle of honor, and to have recourse to industry, and ready payment for articles which their necessities or their fancies require. We should then be better able to determin, whether bucks and bloods, in high life, "who roll the thundering chariot o'er the ground," are sporting with their own property, or that of honest creditors.

I cannot close these remarks without observing how much this country owes to particular classes of people for the practice of the commercial virtues. To the Friends, the Germans and the Dutch, this country is indebted for that industry and provident economy, which enables them to subsist without anxiety, and to be honest and punctual, without embarrassment.

Happy would it be for this country, if these virtues were more generally practised. Paper money and foreign credit are mere temporary expedients to keep up the appearance of wealth and splendor; but they are miserable substitutes for solid property. The only way to become rich at home and respectable abroad, is to become industrious, and to throw off our slavish dependence on foreign manners, which obliges us to sacrifice our opinions, our taste, and our interest, to the policy and aggrandizement of other nations.