strong interest to his mind. The relation of the world to its Author, and of this life to a retributory scene in another, could not be contemplated by him without the greatest solemnity. The religious sense was, in his view, essential in the constitution of man. He placed a full reliance on the divine origin of Christianity. He was no enemy to improvement, to fair inquiry, and Christian freedom; but innovations in the modes of worship and instruction, without palpable necessity or advantage, he discouraged, as tending to break the salutary associations of the pious mind. His conversation and behaviour evinced the sincerity of his religious impressions. No levity upon these subjects, ever escaped his lips; but his manner of recurring to them in conversation indicated reverence and feeling. The sublime, the affecting character of Christ, he never mentioned without emotion.

Mr. Ames was married, July 15th, 1792, to Frances, third daughter of John Worthington, Esq., of Springfield. He left seven children, six of whom are sons. As a husband and father, he was all that is provident, kind, and exemplary.

CHAPTER I.

DEMOCRATIC ASCENDANCY, DESTRUCTIVE OF LIBERTY, AND ALL HOPE OF ITS

RESTORATION*.

Ar a time when men eminently wise cherish almost any hopes, however vain, because they choose to be blind to their fears, it would be neither extraordinary nor disreputable for me to mistake the degree of maturity, to which our political vices have arrived, nor to err in computing how near or how far off we stand from the term of their fatal consummation.

I fear, that the future fortunes of our country no longer depend on counsel. We have persevered in our errors too long to change our propensities by now enlightening our convictions. The political sphere, like the globe we tread upon, never stands still, but with a silent swiftness accomplishes the revolutions, which, we are too ready to believe, are effected by our wisdom, or might have been controlled by our efforts. There is a kind of fatality in the affairs of free states, that eludes the foresight of the wise, as much as

* The title of this dissertation in the American edition, is "the Dangers of American Liberty," and as it was written in 1805, after the author had been engaged for the previous twenty years in carefully watching the progress of political events, and his judgment had had full time to mature, it is manifest that all hope of the maintenance of the Republic as the ark of liberty had died within him. Subsequent events have fully confirmed the almost historic accuracy of Mr. Ames' prophetic view; particularly those of the last few years.

It is but justice to the author to remark, that in transmitting this treatise to a friend for perusal, he observes, “You will see

D

it frustrates the toils and sacrifices of the patriot and the hero. Events proceed, not as they were expected or intended, but as they are impelled by the irresistible laws of our political existence. Things inevitable happen, and we are astonished, as if they were miracles, and the course of nature had been overpowered or suspended to produce them. Hence it is, that, till lately, more than half our countrymen believed our public tranquillity was firmly established, and that our liberty did not merely rest upon dry land, but was wedged, or rather rooted high above the flood, in the rocks of granite, as immoveably as the pillars that prop the universe. They, or at least the discerning of them, are at length no less disappointed than terrified, to perceive that we have all the time floated, with a fearless and unregarded course, down the stream of events, till we are now visibly drawn within the suction of a revolutionary Niagara, and every thing that is liberty will be dashed to pieces in the descent.

We have been accustomed to consider the pretension of Englishmen to be free, as a proof how completely they were broken to subjection, or hardened in impos

many deficiencies and faults. The conclusion is incomplete. It is an effusion from the mind of stock that was laid up in it without any resort to books; of course it wants more facts, more illustration, more exact method, to change its aspect of declamation and rhetorical flourish into a business-performance."

The corrections of his master-hand it never received; nor was it published till after his decease; but, if it failed to obtain his finishing touch, it is not the less valuable in presenting a faithful picture of his views and experience, and is like a valuable admonition and legacy from a dying patriarch of the great cause of freedom, to all who would not blindly fool away the blessings of constitutional liberty.

ture. We have insisted, that they had no constitution, because they never made one; and that their boasted government, which is just what time and accident have made it, was palsied with age, and blue with the plague-sores of corruption. We have believed, that it derived its stability, not from reason, but from prejudice; that it is supported, not because it is favourable to liberty, but as it is dear to national pride; that it is reverenced, not for its excellence, but because ignorance is naturally the idolater of antiquity; that it is not sound and healthful, but derives a morbid energy from disease, and an unaccountable aliment from the canker that corrodes its vitals.

But we maintained, that the federal constitution, with all the bloom of youth, and splendour of innocence, was gifted with immortality. For, if time should impair its force, or faction tarnish its charms, the people, ever vigilant to discern its wants, ever powerful to provide for them, would miraculously restore it to the field, like some wounded hero of the epic, to take a signal vengeance on its enemies, or like Antæus, invigorated by touching his mother earth, to rise the stronger for a fall.

There is, of course, a large portion of our citizens, who will not believe, even on the evidence of facts, that any public evils exist, or are impending. They deride the apprehensions of those who foresee, that licentiousness will prove, as it ever has proved, fatal to liberty. They consider her as a nymph, who need not be coy to keep herself pure, but that, on the contrary, her chastity will grow robust by frequent scuffles with her seducers. They say, while a faction is a minority, it will remain harmless by being outvoted; and if it should become a majority, all its

acts, however profligate or violent, are then legitimate. For, with the democrats, the people is a sovereign who can do no wrong, even when he respects and spares no existing right, and whose voice, however obtained, or however counterfeited, bears all the sanctity and all the force of a living divinity.

Is it possible, they ask, that the people should ever be their own enemies? If all government were dissolved to-day, would they not re-establish it tomorrow, with no other prejudice to the public liberty, than some superfluous fears of its friends, some abortive projects of its enemies? Nay, would not liberty rise resplendent with the light of fresh experience, and coated in the seven-fold mail of constitutional amendments?

These opinions are fiercely maintained, not only as if there were evidence to prove them, but as if it were a merit to believe them, by men who tell you, that, in the most desperate extremity of faction or usurpation, we have an unfailing resource in the good sense of the nation. They assure us there is at least as much wisdom in the people, as in these ingenious tenets of their creed.

For any purpose, therefore, of popular use or general impression, it seems almost fruitless to discuss the question, whether our public liberty can subsist, and what is to be the condition of that awful futurity to which we are hastening. The clamours of party are so loud, and the resistance of national vanity is so stubborn, it will be impossible to convince any but the very wise, (and in every state they are the very few) that democratic liberty is utterly untenable ; that we are devoted to the successive struggles of factions, who will rule by turns, the worst of whom