off upward of one hundred barrels of powder that belonged to the province. The next day John Sullivan led a party to dismantle the fort, from which they brought away all the small arms, a quantity of shot, and sixteen light pieces of artillery.

In Massachusetts three hundred thousand people continued their usual avocations without a legislature or executive officers, without sheriffs, judges, or justices of the peace. As the supervision of government disappeared, each man seemed more and more a law to himself, and order prevailed in a province where there existed no administration but by committees, no military officers but those chosen by the militia. Yet never were legal magistrates obeyed with more alacrity. The selectmen continued their usual functions; the zeal of the churches increased in fervor. From the sermons of memorable divines, who were gone to a heavenly country, leaving their names precious among the people of God on earth, a brief collection of faithful testimonies to the cause of God and his New England people was circulated by the press, that the hearts of the rising generation might know what had been the great end of the plantations, and count it their duty and their glory to continue in those right ways of the Lord wherein their fathers walked before them. Their successors in the ministry, all pupils of Harvard or Yale, true ministers to the people, unequalled in metaphysical acuteness and familiarity with the principles of political freedom, were heard as of old with reverence by their congregations in their meeting-houses on every Lord's day, and on special occasions of fasts, thanksgivings, lectures, and military musters. Elijah's mantle being caught up was a happy token that the Lord would be with this generation, as he had been with their fathers. Their exhaustless armory was the Bible, whose scriptures furnished sharp words to point their appeals, apt examples of resistance, prophetic denunciations of the enemies of God's people, and promises of the divine blessing on the defenders of his law.

But what most animated the country was the magnanimity of Boston; "suffering amazing loss, but determined to endure poverty and death, rather than betray America and posterity." Its people, under the eyes of the general, disregarding his army, his proclamations, and the British statute against town-meet

ings, came together according to their ancient forms, and, with Samuel Adams as moderator, elected delegates to the next provincial congress of Massachusetts.

When the proceedings of congress reached England, their firmness, moderation, and unanimity took the ministry by surprise. Franklin invited the colonial agents to unite in presenting the petition of congress, but he was joined only by those for Massachusetts. Dartmouth received it courteously, and laid it before the king, who promised that it should be communicated to parliament.

British industry in that age made every able-bodied man of so much value that considerable enlistments at home were out of the question; rank in the army was bestowed by favor or sold, so that even boys at school held commissions; and not one general officer of that day had gained a great name. Aristocratic selfishness had unfitted England for war, unless under a minister who could inspirit the nation. Barrington, the military secretary, pressed upon the government the result of his observations: "The contest will cost more than we can gain. We have not strength to levy internal taxes on America; many among ourselves doubt their equity; all the troops in North America are not enough to subdue the Massachusetts; the most successful conquest must produce the horrors of civil war. Till the factious chiefs can be secured, judicial proceedings would confer the palm of martyrdom without the pain;" and he urged an immediate withdrawal of the troops, the "abandonment of all ideas of internal taxation," and such "concessions" as could be made "with dignity."

Lord North was ready to negotiate with the Americans for the right to tax themselves. Franklin appeared to be the great agent of the continent; and, as it was still thought that his secret instructions might authorize him to modify the conditions of conciliation, Lord Howe undertook to ascertain the extent of his powers.

The name of Howe was dear to Americans. The elder Lord Howe had fallen near Lake George, as their companion in arms; and Massachusetts had raised to him a monument in Westminster Abbey. His brother, William Howe, who had served with Americans in America, was selected as the new

colonial commander-in-chief; and his oldest surviving brother, now Lord Howe, was to be employed as the pacificator.

"No man," said Lord Howe to Franklin at their first interview on Christmas-day evening, 1774, "can do more toward reconciling our differences than you. I have a particular regard for New England, which has shown an endearing respect for my family. If you will indulge me with your ideas, I may be a means of bringing on a good understanding." At the unexpected prospect of restoring harmony, tears of joy wet Franklin's cheeks. He had remained in London at the peril of his liberty, perhaps of his life, to promote reconciliation. With candor and fidelity he explained the measures by which alone tranquillity could be restored; and they included the repeal of the regulating act for Massachusetts.

Lord Howe made his report of the interview to Dartmouth and North; but they adhered to the vague and aimless plan of commissioners who should repair to America and endeavor to agree with its leading people upon some means of composing all differences. Every prospect of preferment was opened to Franklin if he would take part in such a commission. In reply he frankly pointed out, as the only basis for a cordial union, the repeal of the acts complained of; the removal of the fleet and the troops from Boston; and a voluntary recall of some oppressive measures which the colonists had passed over in silence; leaving the questions which related to aids, general commerce, and reparation to the India company, to be arranged with the next general congress.

The assembly of the island of Jamaica, at their session in December, disclaiming any intention of joining the American confederacy, entreated the king to recognise the title of all Americans to the benefits of the English constitution as the bond of union between them and Britain; but their petition, though received by the king and communicated to the house of commons, had no effect whatever.

"It is plain enough," so reasoned Vergennes, "the king of England is puzzled between his desire of reducing the colonies and his dread of driving them to a separation; so that nothing could be more interesting than their affairs." As the king of France might be asked to render them assistance, the English

VOL. IV.-7

support of the Corsicans was cited as a precedent to the French embassy at London, and brought before the cabinet at Versailles. To Louis XVI., Vergennes in the same month explained that the proceedings of the continental congress contained the germ of a rebellion; that, while the Americans really desired a reconciliation with the mother country, the ministry, from their indifference, would prevent its taking place; that Lord North was disconcerted by the unanimity and vigor of the colonies; and that France had nothing to fear but the return of Chatham to power.

The interests of Britain required Chatham's return; for he thoroughly understood alike the policy of the French, and the disposition of the colonies. In his interview with Americans, he said, without reserve: "America, under all her oppressions and provocations, holds out to us the most fair and just opening for restoring harmony and affectionate intercourse." No public body ever gained so full and unanimous a recognition of its integrity and its wisdom as the general congress of 1774. Its policy sprung so necessarily out of the relations of free countries to their colonies, that within a few years it was adopted by all British statesmen, and for three quarters of a century regulated the colonial administration of every successive ministry, till it finally gave way to a system of navigation even far more liberal than the American congress had ventured to propose.

The day after Franklin's first conversation with Lord Howe, Chatham received him at Hayes. "The congress,” said he, "is the most honorable assembly of statesmen since those of the ancient Greeks and Romans in the most virtuous times." He thought the petition to the king "decent, manly, and properly expressed." He questioned the assertion that the keeping up an army in the colonies in time of peace required their consent; with that exception, he admired and honored the whole of the proceedings. "The army at Boston," said Franklin, "cannot answer any good purpose, and may be infinitely mischievous. No accommodation can be properly entered into by the Americans while the bayonet is at their breasts. To have an agreement binding, all force should be withdrawn." The words sank deeply into the mind of Chatham, and he prom

ised his utmost efforts to the American cause, as the last hope of liberty for England. "I shall be well prepared," said he, "to meet the ministry on the subject, for I think of nothing else both night and day."

To unite every branch of the opposition in one line of policy, Chatham desired a cordial junction with the Rockingham whigs. That party had only two friends who spoke in the house of lords, and in the house of commons was mouldering away. And yet Rockingham was impracticable. "I look back," he said, "with very real satisfaction and content on the line which I, indeed, emphatically I, took in the year 1766; the stamp act was repealed, and the doubt of the right of this country was fairly faced and resisted." Burke believed that the Americans would not preserve their unanimity, and that the controversy would derive its chief importance from its aspect on parties in England. He was still fondly supporting the omnipotence of parliament over the colonies, and derided Chatham as the best bower anchor of the ministry.

Chatham divined that peril was near, and could be averted only by limiting the assertion by parliament of its absolute power in all cases whatever. To further that end, the aged statesman paid a visit to Rockingham. At its opening, Chatham's countenance beamed with cordiality; but Rockingham perversely insisted on maintaining the declaratory act. "The Americans have not called for its repeal," was his reply to all objections; and he never could be made to comprehend that congress had restrained itself only from a reluctance to embarrass him and his friends. The opposition, thus divided, became helpless.

The majority of the cabinet, instead of respecting Lord North's scruples, were intriguing to get him turned out, and his place supplied by a thorough assertor of British supremacy. At a cabinet council held on the twelfth of January 1775, his colleagues refused to find in the proceedings of congress any honorable basis for conciliation. It was therefore resolved to interdict all commerce with the Americans, to protect the loyal, and to declare all others traitors and rebels.

At the meeting of parliament after the holidays, Lord North presented papers relating to America. They reminded