One copy of this text contains a note naming a certain “Dr. Sutcliffe” as the author. This text rebuts the idea that legislation is inseparable from taxation, asserting that practices affirmed by general understanding can sustain all such distinctions “for the powers of governors are just so much as, and can be no more than such compact gives them.” Citing the 40 shilling minimum to vote in England, and Locke on the social contract, the writer denies the authority to tax without representation.”

This essay was among the most rhetorically colorful of the responses to the writers in the pay of the British government, Samuel Johnson, John Shabbeare, and John Wesley. Taking a strong moral stance against taxation without representation, the text excoriates those who “prostitute their abilities and belie their consciences for HIRE.” The American colonies were simply resorting to the only means left to them when “kings and governors degenerate into tyrants.”

George Turnbull belongs with a group of early Scottish Enlightenment thinkers, including Francis Hutcheson, who found their native Calvinism too repressive. They sought to relocate religion within a context of reason and science and to establish a tolerant and humane ethic upon values rooted in classical ideals.

This text is notable for its reading of the Declaratory Act and the specific phrase, “in all cases whatsoever.” contending that such could only refer to constitutional means. It made the point that not every act of government constituted a precedent in law, observing “however successful” certain errors “may have proved for a time when men’s passions were heated,” nevertheless, “when reason resumed her empire” such mistakes “were rectified, and the constitution gathered still more strength.”

This essay countered the July 6, 1775, statement by the Congress in Philadelphia declaring “The Causes and Necessity of Their Taking up Arms.” Like other ministerial writings of that year, it based its case on the “universally admitted” need for “a supreme and uncontroullable power” to exist “somewhere in every State.” The pamphlet is notable in its denunciation of William Pitt, and the inconsistency of Americans who continued to “flatter” him, despite his party’s support of the Declaratory Act.

In this essay, points are drawn from Irish experience to contend that the necessities claimed for taxing the colonies cannot be well founded, but “it is evident that this is not the harvest-time there for a rapacious minister.” Understanding the implicit claim looming over his own realm, the writer hoped that the English Parliament in “her wisdom” would let Americans remain “dependent in every external relation, but let them experience internal liberty, and a security in their acquisitions.”

This piece argues against taxing the colonies, not on grounds of mere expediency but a prudential recognition that tensions always exist between lived experience and higher ideals. Not a denial of higher law, Burke critiques those who think they can execute policy even in the most delicate circumstances where principles seem to be in opposition: Parliament’s authority versus colonial rights. Such issues, he noted “can never be moved without shaking the foundations of the best governments.”

This piece defends Parliament’s right to tax by contending that no distinction in law can be maintained between regulation and taxation. Both arise from the same power to determine the disposition of property and precedent gives that power to Parliament alone. But the author recognizes the danger of permitting such authority when the properties of members of Parliament are not subject to the same duties. He argues that revenues from such taxes should only be for expenditures within the colonies.

This text makes a constitutional case for local self-government based on the historical precedents of the early dominions of Great Britain, arguing that the jurisdiction of Parliament over internal revenue was not extended to Ireland and was only exercised in Wales, once it achieved actual representation. Citing Locke, Molesworth and Sydney, he laid claim to real Whiggery, by which he did not mean “certain modern Whigs, who seem more fond of the word, than anything belonging to the character.”

The text uses vituperative rhetoric rare even for other defenders of British policy. The author relies heavily on the analogy of the aggrieved parent and ungrateful child, with the American colonists exemplifying “Ingratitude…the disgrace of human Nature.” The main charge is an unwillingness to bear the expenses of their own defense. He also chastises American duplicity for holding slaves “because of their Complexion.” Such, he claims, “is an American Logic, unknown to the generous Briton.”