which the commons would infer from the full view
of his conduct and behavior. Of all species of guilt, the law of England
had with the most scrupulous exactness defined that of treason; because
on that side it was found most necessary to protect the subject against
the violence of the king and of his ministers. In the famous statute of
Edward III., all the kinds of treason are enumerated; and every other
crime, besides such as are there expressly mentioned, is carefully
excluded from that appellation. But with regard to this guilt, "an
endeavor to subvert the fundamental laws," the statute of treasons
is totally silent: and arbitrarily to introduce it into the fatal
catalogue, is itself a subversion of all law; and under color of
defending liberty, reverses a statute the best calculated for the
security of liberty that had ever been enacted by an English parliament.

As this species of treason, discovered by the commons, is entirely
new and unknown to the laws, so is the species of proof by which they
pretend to fix that guilt upon the prisoner. They have invented a kind
of accumulative or constructive evidence, by which many actions either
totally innocent in themselves, or criminal in a much inferior degree,
shall, when united, amount to treason, and subject the person to the
highest penalties inflicted by the law. A hasty and unguarded word,
a rash and passionate action, assisted by the malevolent fancy of the
accuser, and tortured by doubtful constructions, is transmuted into the
deepest guilt; and the lives and fortunes of the whole nation, no longer
protected by justice, are subjected to arbitrary will and pleasure.

"Where has this species of guilt lain so long concealed?" said Strafford
in conclusion. "Where has this fire been so long buried during so many
centuries, that no smoke should appear till it burst out at once to
consume me and my children? Better it were to live under no law at all,
and by the maxims of cautious prudence to conform ourselves the best we
can to the arbitrary will of a master, than fancy we have a law on which
we can rely, and find at last, that this law shall inflict a punishment
precedent to the promulgation, and try us by maxims unheard of till the
very moment of the prosecution. If I sail on the Thames, and split my
vessel on an anchor, in case there be no buoy to give warning, the
party shall pay me damages: but if the anchor be marked out, then is the
striking on it at my own peri