revert to the people, whilst that government lasts; because, having provided a legislative" assembly, "with power to continue for ever, they have given up their political power to the legislative" assembly," and cannot resume it. But, if they have set limits to the duration of their legislative assembly, and made this supreme power, in any person, or assembly, only temporary: or else, when, by the miscarriages of those in authority, it is forfeited; upon the forfeiture, or at the determination of the time set, it reverts to the society, and the people have a right to act as supreme, and continue the legislative" power "in themselves; or erect a new form; or, under the old form, place it in new hands, as they think good."

It does not, therefore, follow, as a necessary consequence of the prevalent mode of election, by districts, either in England or America, that it is consistent with the present constitution of the House of Commons, or that it was the intention of the framers of our representative system, that the representative should be bound by the instructions of the people of the particular district, who, by the constitution, are authorized to elect him.

These doctrines are known to this assembly not to be new. They are neither hostile to the genius, nor inconsistent with the practice of freedom-and they have been sustained, by its most distinguished champions, in the nation from whom was derived the model of the American constitutions. They are corroborated, not only by the best expositions of the theory and practice of the English government; by the most elaborate researches into its history, whether by Blackstone, the ablest commentator, who has written on English law, or De Lolme, to whose eloquent treatise on the Constitution of England, even Junius cheerfully accords the rare reward of his jealous praise; but by the theory and practice of her most illustrious statesmen, and her most popular orators.

The opinion of the first of those distinguished jurists has, indeed, been questioned; but the credit almost universally attached to the results of his unwearied researches into every branch of the English law, whether constitutional or municipal, leaves him, at this day, the uncontested occupant of the highest ground of authority, in every controversy relating to either. "It is wisely contrived," says this able writer, " that in so large a state as ours, the people should do that, by their representatives, which it is impracticable for them to perform in person; representatives chosen by a number of minute and separate districts; wherein all the voters may be easily distinguished. And every member, though chosen by one particular district, when elected, and returned, serves for the whole realm. For the end of his coming

thither is not particular, but general; not barely to advantage his constituents, but the commonwealth. And, therefore, he is not bound, like a deputy in the United Provinces, to consult with, or take the advice of his constituents, unless he thinks it proper or prudent to do so."

Lord Coke defines the word "parliament," (which was introduced into the English language about the reign of Henry 3d,) in his own quaint way; but which sufficiently discloses his opinion of the duties of a member. "It is called Parliament, be cause every member of that court should sincerely and directly "parler la ment," speak his own mind for the good of the commonwealth."

It is somewhat remarkable, that the commentaries on the laws of England, which abound with the most eloquent encomiums of freedom, should have attracted the resentment of its ardent friends, especially at a time when no system had been, anywhere, reared for its security more perfect than the English constitution. This hostility, it is believed, would be best explained by the circumstances of the times, which apply to the author, rather than to his work. But, it would be much more remarkable, if the writings and speeches of Edmund Burke were to be so construed, as to leave in doubt his opinion of the authority of instructions. At a period when this erudite scholar, profound statesman, and unrivalled orator, was a member of the association called the Whig Club, consisting of those friends of British freedom most resplendent for genius and patriotism, and, when his popularity was at its zenith, he hazarded his political existence, by pursuing, in the House of Commons, a course directly opposed to the positive instructions of his immediate constituents, the corporation of the city of Bristol. This great man, the friend of freedom and reform, and let it not be forgotten, the friend, also, of America, in the hour of her severest trial, stood at the hustings of Bristol, and plead his justification, to an indignant people, whose suffrages he solicited in a much contested election then depending,

He is first charged with having neglected to visit his constituents, during a period, when, against their wishes, he was advocating "peace with America." "It was a time," says he, "when all who wished for peace, or retained any sentiments of moderation, were overborne or silenced; and this city (and, probably, with more management, because I was one of your members) was led, by every artifice, to distinguish itself by its zeal for that fatal cause. In this temper of yours, and of my mind, I should sooner have fled to the extremities of the earth, than have shown myself here, I, who saw in every American victory,

(for you have had a long series of these misfortunes) the germ and seed of the naval power of France and Spain, which all our heat and warmth against America, was only hatching into life. I should not have been a welcome visitant with the brow and the language of such feeling. When, afterwards, the other face of your calamity was turned upon you, and showed itself in defeat and distress, I shunned you full as much."

The closing sentences of this paragraph are already in the possession of this assembly, and it will readily perceive how little they can warrant the inference, attempted to be deduced from them, that the orator, who delivered them, considered himself bound by any will of his constituents, however expressed, which militated with the deliberate conviction of his own judgment.

He tells them, in answer to the second charge, of having disobeyed their instructions, that the just criterion of the merit of a representative" is the whole tenor of his conduct." "Gentlemen," says he, "we must not be peevish with those who serve the people. Depend upon it, that the lovers of freedom will be free. If we degrade and deprave their minds by servility, it will be absurd to expect that those, who are creeping and abject towards us, will ever be bold and incorruptible asserters of our freedom. No! human nature is not so formed; nor shall we improve the faculties, or better the morals, of public men, by our possession of the most infallible receipt in the world, for making cheats and hypocrites. Let me say, with plainness, I, who am no longer in a public character, that if, by a fair, by an indulgent, by a gentlemanly behaviour to our representatives, we do not give confidence to their minds, and a liberal scope to their understandings; if we do not permit our members to act upon a very enlarged view of things; we shall at length infallibly degrade our national representation, into a confused and scuffling bustle of local agency."-If "the popular member" be "narrowed in his ideas, and rendered timid in his proceedings.—If the people should choose their servants on the principles of mere obsequiousness, and flexibility, and total vacancy or indifference of opinion, on all public matters, then no part of the state will be sound, and it will be in vain to think of saving it."

"What, gentlemen, was I not to foresee, or foreseeing, was I not to endeavor to save you from all those multiplied mischiefs and disgraces? Would the little, silly, canvass prattle of obeying instructions, and having no opinion but yours, and such idle senseless tales, which amuse the vacant ears of unthinking men, have saved you from "the peltings of that pitiless storm," to which the loose improvidence, the cowardly rashness of those

who dare not look danger in the face, so as to provide against it in time, have exposed this degraded nation, beat down and prostrate on the earth, unsheltered, unarmed, unresisting?"

"Instead of requiring it from me, as a point of duty, to kindle with your passions, had you all been as cool, as I was, you would have been saved disgraces and distresses that are unutterable.-It is not your fond desires or mine, that can alter the nature of things; by contending against which, what have we got, or shall ever get, but defeat and shame? I did not obey your instructions! No, I conformed to the instructions of truth and nature, and maintained your interest against your opinions, with a constancy that became me. A representative, worthy of you, ought to be a person of stability. I am to look indeed to your opinions; but to such opinions, as you and I must have five years hence. I was not to look at the flash of the day. I knew that you chose me, in my place along with others, to be a pillar of the state, and not a weathercock on the top of the edifice, exalted for my levity and versatility, and of no use, but to indicate the shiftings of every fashionable gale."

Towards the conclusion of this speech, again adverting to the charge of having disobeyed instructions, he says, "As to the opinion of the people, which some think, in such cases, is to be implicitly obeyed, near two years of tranquillity, which followed the act, (meaning the act for the relief of the Roman Catholics,) and its instant imitation in Ireland, proved abundantly, that the late horrible spirit, was, in a great measure, the effect of insidious art, perverse industry, and gross misrepresentation. But suppose that the dislike had been much more general than I am persuaded it was, when we know that the opinions, even of the greatest multitudes, are the standard of rectitude, I shall think myself obliged to make these opinions, the standard of my conscience."

He anticipates with firmness, an unfavourable event of the depending election. Alluding to the threat of the day, he adds"But if I possess all this impolitic stubbornness, I may chance never to be elected into parliament! It is certainly not pleasing to be put out of the public service. But I wish to be a member of parliament to have my share of doing good, and resisting evil. It would therefore be absurd to renounce my objects, in order to retain my seat. I deceive myself indeed most grossly, if I had not much rather pass the remainder of my life, in the hidden recesses of the deepest obscurity, feeding my mind even with the visions and imaginations of such things, than to be tantalized with a denial of the practice of all which can make the greatest situation any other than a curse.”

It is indeed true that he was not re-elected. He had alarmed the commercial jealousy of a city near the shore of the Irish channel, by extending to a bordering and oppressed kingdom, commercial privileges, which had been long most unjustly withheld; he had extended to the persecuted Catholics, some relief from the intolerance of the Church of England, and alarmed the pride and offended the bigotry of high-toned churchmen. He had done more than all; he had offended the pride of opinion.

Such were the opinions, and such was the conduct of Edmund Burke, in relation to the doctrine of instructions, from which it cannot be inferred, that he admits the authority of instructions, however "soberly and deliberately given."

To this authority, on which this Assembly has dwelt at greater length, because much of the argument, in which it is found, corroborates the general doctrine laid down in an early part of this preamble, it cannot forbear adding, that of the elder William Pitt, once the favourite of this nation, as his memory is still, and ever will be, honoured and revered, by every friend of rational liberty. It was under peculiar circumstances, and somewhat different from those which attended the situation of his copatriot Edmund Burke, that William Pitt denied the authority of the instructions of the Corporation of Bath. It was in the year 1763, when his virtue had been, and continued to be tried, by the only infallible test, adversity. Speaking of this interesting period of his life, one of his biographers relates, "We have seen the end of this man's brilliancy, as a minister. We now view him in the character of a single member of the legislature; accompanied by no influence, nor followed by one individual of that obsequious crowd of representatives, who had lately given him unlimited confidence, and unbounded praise. He retired from office an indigent man. From all his places, he acquired no possessions, and the first duty of his retirement was a retrenchment of his household." The tide of popular favour, which so recently lifted him to the skies, by a sudden ebb, had left him stranded on the rocks of a cold and barren shore. Prosperity had tried, but found him incorruptible; and adversity now folded him in her iron grasp, as if to bend his sturdy spirit, but found that spirit to have the erectness of truth and the stability of virtue.

The nation was exulting at the termination of the seven years war, when his constituents, the Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council of the city of Bath, transmitted to him, and his colleague, Sir John Seabright, an address, to be by them presented to the king, congratulating and humbly thanking him, for the disgraceful peace which had just closed the memorable war, in