Why must the sailors alone, sir, be marked out from all the other orders of men for ignominy and misery? Why must they be ranked with the enemies of society, stopped like vagabonds, and pursued like the thief and the murderer by publick officers? How or when have they forfeited the common privilege of human nature, or the general protection of the laws of their country? If it is a just maxim, sir, that he who contributes most to the welfare of the publick, deserves most to be protected in the enjoyment of his private right or fortune; a principle which surely will not be controverted; where is the man that dares stand forth and assert, that he has juster claims than the brave, the honest, the diligent sailor? I am extremely unwilling, sir, to engage in so invidious an undertaking as the comparison of the harmless, inoffensive, resolute sailor, with those who think themselves entitled to treat him with contempt, to overlook his merit, invade his liberty, and laugh at his remonstrances. Nor is it, sir, necessary to dwell upon the peculiar merit of this body of men; it is sufficient that they have the same claims, founded upon the same reasons with our own, that they have never forfeited them by any crime, and, therefore, that they cannot be taken away without the most flagrant violation of the laws of nature, of reason, and of our country. Let us consider the present condition of a sailor, let us reflect a little upon the calamities to which custom, though not law, has already made him subject, and it will surely not be thought that his unhappiness needs any aggravation. He is already exposed to be forced, upon his return from a tedious voyage, into new hardships, without the intermission of a day, and without the sight of his family; he is liable, after a contract for a pleasing and gainful voyage, to be hurried away from his prospects of interest, and condemned amidst oppression and insolence, to labour and to danger, almost without the possibility of a recompense. He has neither the privilege of choosing his commander, nor of leaving him when he is defrauded and oppressed. These, sir, I say, are the calamities to which he is now subject, but there is now a possibility of escaping them. He is not yet deprived of the right of resistance, or the power of flight; he may now retire to his friend, and be protected by him; he may take shelter in his own cottage, and treat any man as a robber, that shall attempt to force his doors. When any crews are returning home in time of war, they are acquainted with the dangers of an impress, but they comfort themselves with contriving stratagems to elude it, or with the prospect of obtaining an exemption from it by the favour of their friends; prospects which are often deceitful, and stratagems frequently defeated, but which yet support their spirits, and animate their industry.