Jr. John T. Morse

In order to continue the narrative of events with due regard to chronological order it is necessary to revert to the repeal of the Stamp Act. The repealing act was fully as unpopular in England as the repealed act had been in America. It was brought about by no sense of justice, by no good will toward the colonists, but solely by reason of the injury which the law was causing in England, and which was forced upon the reluctant consideration of Parliament by the urgent clamor of the suffering merchants; also perhaps in some degree by a disinclination to send an army across the Atlantic, and by the awkward difficulty suggested by Franklin when he said that if troops should be sent they would find no rebellion, no definite form of resistance, against which they could act. The repeal, therefore, though carried by a large majority, was by no means to be construed as an acknowledgment of error in an asserted principle, but only as an unavoidable admission of a mistake in the application of that principle. The repealing majority grew out of a strange coalition of men of the most opposite ways of thinking concerning the fundamental question. For example, Charles Townshend was a repealer, yet all England did not hold a man who was more wedded than was Townshend to the idea of levying internal taxes in the colonies by act of Parliament. The notion had been his own mischievous legacy to Grenville, but he now felt that it had been clumsily used by his legatee. Many men agreed with him, and the prevalence of this opinion was made obvious by the passage, almost simultaneously, of the resolution declaratory of the right of parliamentary taxation. But the solace of an empty assertion was wholly inadequate to heal the deep wound which English pride had received. The great nation had been fairly hounded into receding before the angry resistance of a parcel of provincials dwelling far away across the sea; the recession was not felt to be an act of magnanimity or generosity or even of justice, but only a bitter humiliation and indignity. Poor Grenville, the responsible adviser of the blundering and unfortunate measure, lost almost as much prestige as Franklin gained. It was hard luck for him; he was as honest in his convictions as Franklin was in the opposite faith, and he was a far abler minister than the successor charged to undo his work. But his knowledge of colonial facts was very insufficient, and the light in which he viewed them was hopelessly false. Franklin had a knowledge immeasurably greater, and was almost incapable of an error of judgment; of all the reputation which was won or lost in this famous contest he gathered the lion's share; he was the hero of the colonists; his ability was recognized impartially by both the contending parties in England, and he was marked as a great man by those astute French statesmen who were watching with delight the opening of this very promising rift in the British Empire.

Anger, like water, subsides quickly after the tempest ceases. As each day in its flight carried the Stamp Act and the repeal more remotely into past history, the sanguine and peaceably minded began to hope that England and the colonies might yet live comfortably in union. It only seemed necessary that for a short time longer no fresh provocation should revive animosities which seemed composing themselves to slumber. The colonists tried to believe that England had learned wisdom; Englishmen were cautious about committing a second blunder. In such a time Franklin was the best man whom his countrymen could have had in England. His tranquil temperament, his warm regard for both sides, his wonderful capacity for living well with men who could by no means live well with each other, his social tact, and the respect which his abilities inspired, all combined to enable him now more than ever to fill admirably the position of colonial representative. The effect of such an influence is not to be seen in any single noteworthy occurrence, but is known by a thousand lesser indications, and it is unquestionable that no American representative even to this day has ever been held in Europe in such estimation as was accorded to Franklin at this time. He continued writing and instructing upon American topics, but to what has already been said concerning his services and opinions abroad, there is nothing of importance to be added occurring within two or three years after the repeal. While, however, he played the often thankless part of instructor to the English, he had the courage to assume the even less popular rÔle of a moderator towards the colonists. He made it his task to soothe passion and to preach reason. He did not do this as a trimmer; never was one word of compromise uttered by him throughout all these alarming years. But he dreaded that weakness which is the inevitable reaction from excess; and he was supremely anxious to secure that trustworthy strength which is impossible without moderation. What he profoundly wished was that the "fatal period" of war and separation should be as much as possible "postponed, and that whenever this catastrophe shall happen it may appear to all mankind that the fault has not been ours." Yet he fell far short of the Christian principle of turning to the smiter the other cheek. He wished the colonists to keep a steady front face, and only besought them not to rush forward so foolishly fast as to topple over, of which ill-considered violence there was much danger. Of course the usual result of such efforts overtook him. He wrote somewhat sadly, in 1768: "Being born and bred in one of the countries, and having lived long and made many agreeable connections of friendship in the other, I wish all prosperity to both; but I have talked and written so much and so long on the subject, that my acquaintance are weary of hearing and the public of reading any more of it, which begins to make me weary of talking and writing; especially as I do not find that I have gained any point in either country, except that of rendering myself suspected by my impartiality;—in England of being too much an American, and in America of being too much an Englishman." More than once he repeated this last sentence with much feeling. But whatever there was of personal discouragement or despondency in this letter was only a temporary frame of mind. Dr. Franklin never really slackened his labors in a business which he had so much at heart as this of the relationship of the colonies to the mother country. Neither, it is safe to say, did he ever bore any one by what he wrote or by what he said, though his witty effusions in print were usually anonymous, and only some of his soberer and argumentative papers announced their paternity.

The agony with which the repeal of the Stamp Act was effected racked too severely the feeble joints of the Rockingham ministry, and that ill-knit body soon began to drop to pieces. A new incumbent was sought for the department which included the colonies, but that position seemed to be shunned with a sort of terror; no one loved office enough to seek it in this niche; no one could expect comfort in a chamber haunted by such restless ghosts. Early in July, at the earnest solicitation of the king, Pitt endeavored not so much to form a new ministry as to revamp the existing one. He partially succeeded, but not without difficulty. The result seemed to promise well for the colonies, since the new cabinet contained their chief friends: Pitt himself, Shelburne, Camden, Conway, names all justly esteemed by America. Yet all these were fully offset by the audacious Charles Townshend, the originator and great apostle of the scheme of colonial taxation, whom Pitt, much against his will, had been obliged to place in the perilous post of chancellor of the exchequer. It was true that Lord Shelburne undertook the care of the colonies, and that no Englishman cherished better dispositions towards them; but he had to encounter two difficulties, neither of which could be overcome. The one was that Townshend's views were those which soon proved not only to be coincident with those of the king, but also to be popular in Parliament; the other was that, while he had the administration of colonial affairs, Townshend had the function of introducing schemes of taxation. So long as he remained in office he administered all the business of the colonies in the spirit of liberal reform. No reproach was ever brought against his justice, his generosity, his enlightened views of government. But unfortunately all that he had to do, being strictly in the way of administration, such as the restraining over-loyal governors, the amelioration of harsh legislation, and universal moderation in language and behavior, could avail comparatively little so long as Townshend, whom Pitt used to call "the incurable," could threaten and bring in obnoxious revenue measures.

Shelburne had the backing of Pitt; but, by ill luck, so soon as the cabinet was formed, Pitt ceased to be Pitt, and became the Earl of Chatham; and with the loss of his own name he lost also more than half of his power. Moreover the increasing infirmities of his body robbed him of efficiency and impaired his judgment. He was utterly unable to keep in subordination his reckless chancellor of the exchequer, betwixt whom and himself no good will had ever existed. On the other hand, this irrepressible Townshend had a far better ally in George III., who sympathized in his purposes, gave him assistance which was none the less powerful for being indirect and occult, and who hated and ingeniously thwarted Shelburne. Moreover, as has been said, it was a popular delusion that Townshend had exceptionally full and accurate knowledge concerning American affairs. His self-confident air, making assurance of success, won for him one half of the battle by so sure a presage of victory. He lured the members of the House by showing them a considerable remission in their own taxes, provided they would stand by his scheme of replacing the deficit by an income from the colonies; and he boldly assured his delighted auditors that he knew "the mode by which a revenue could be drawn from America without offense." He was of the thoughtless class which learns no lesson. He still avowed himself "a firm advocate of the Stamp Act," and with cheerful scorn he "laughed at the absurd distinction between internal and external taxes." He did not expect, he merrily said, alluding to the distinction just conferred upon Chatham, to have his statue erected in America. The reports of his speeches kept the colonial mind disquieted. The act requiring the provinces in which regiments were quartered to provide barracks and rations for the troops at the public expense was a further irritation. Shelburne sought to make the burden as easy as possible, but Townshend made Shelburne's duties as hard as possible. Of what use were the minister's liberality and moderation, when the chancellor of the exchequer evoked alarm and wrath by announcing insolently that he was for governing the Americans as subjects of Great Britain, and for restraining their trade and manufactures in subordination to those of the mother country! So the struggle went on within the ministry as well as without it; but the opponents of royal prejudice were heavily handicapped; for the king, though stupid in general, had some political skill and much authority. His ill-concealed personal hostility to his "enemy," as he called Shelburne, threatened like the little cloud in the colonial horizon. Nor was it long before Chatham, a dispirited wreck, withdrew himself entirely from all active participation in affairs, shut himself up at Hayes, and refused to be seen by any one who wished to talk on business.

On May 13, 1767, colonial agents and merchants trading to America were refused admission to hear the debates in the House of Commons. Upon that day Townshend was to develop his scheme. By way, as it were, of striking a keynote, he proposed that the province of New York should be restrained from enacting any legislation until it should comply with the "billeting act," against which it had heretofore been recalcitrant. He then sketched a scheme for an American board of commissioners of customs. Finally he came to the welcome point of the precise taxes which he designed to levy: he proposed duties on wine, oil, and fruits, imported directly into the colonies from Spain and Portugal; also on glass, paper, lead, colors, and china, and three pence per pound on tea. The governors and chief justices, most of whom were already appointed by the king, but who got their pay by vote of the colonial assemblies, were hereafter to have fixed salaries, to be paid by the king from this American revenue. Two days later the resolutions were passed, directing the introduction of bills to carry out these several propositions, and a month later the bills themselves were passed.

Meantime the cabinet was again getting very rickety, and many heads were busy with suggestions for patching it in one part or another. With Chatham in retreat and the king in the ascendant, it seemed that Townshend had the surest seat. But there is one risk against which even monarchs cannot insure their favorites, and that risk now fell out against Townshend. He died suddenly of a fever, in September, 1767. Lord North succeeded him, destined to do everything which his royal master desired him to do, and bitterly to repent it. A little later, in December, the king scored another success; Shelburne was superseded in the charge of the colonies by the Earl of Hillsborough, who reËntered the board of trade as first commissioner, and came into the cabinet with the new title of secretary of state for the colonies.

Hillsborough was an Irish peer, with some little capacity for business, but of no more than moderate general ability. He also was supposed, altogether erroneously, to possess a little more knowledge, or, as it might have been better expressed, to be shackled with a little less ignorance, concerning colonial affairs than could be predicated of most of the noblemen who were eligible for public office. America had acquired so much importance that the reputation of familiarity with its condition was an excellent recommendation for preferment. Franklin wrote that this change in the ministry was "very sudden and unexpected;" and that "whether my Lord Hillsborough's administration will be more stable than others have been for a long time, is quite uncertain; but as his inclinations are rather favorable towards us (so far as he thinks consistent with what he supposes the unquestionable rights of Britain), I cannot but wish it may continue."

It was Franklin's temperament to be hopeful, and he also purposely cultivated the wise habit of not courting ill fortune by anticipating it. In this especial instance, however, he soon found that his hopefulness was misplaced. Within six months he discovered that this new secretary looked upon the provincial agents "with an evil eye, as obstructors of ministerial measures," and would be well pleased to get rid of them as "unnecessary" impediments in the transaction of business. "In truth," he adds, "the nominations, particularly of Dr. Lee and myself, have not been at all agreeable to his lordship." It soon appeared that his lordship had the Irish quickness for taking a keen point of law; he broached the theory that no agent could lawfully be appointed by the mere resolution of an assembly, but that the appointment must be made by bill. The value of this theory is obvious when we reflect that a bill did not become law, and consequently an appointment could not be completed, save by the signature of the provincial governor. "This doctrine, if he could establish it," said Franklin, "would in a manner give to his lordship the power of appointing, or, at least, negativing any choice of the House of Representatives and Council, since it would be easy for him to instruct the governor not to assent to the appointment of such and such men, who are obnoxious to him; so that if the appointment is annual, every agent that valued his post must consider himself as holding it by the favor of his lordship;" whereof the consequences were easy to be seen.

There was a lively brush between the noble secretary and Franklin, when the former first propounded this troublesome view. It was in January, 1771, that Franklin called upon his lordship—

"to pay my respects ... and to acquaint him with my appointment by the House of Representatives of Massachusetts Bay to be their agent here." But his lordship interrupted:—

"I must set you right there, Mr. Franklin; you are not agent.

"Why, my lord?

"You are not appointed.

"I do not understand your lordship; I have the appointment in my pocket.

"You are mistaken; I have later and better advices. I have a letter from Governor Hutchinson; he would not give his assent to the bill.

"There was no bill, my lord; it was a vote of the House.

"There was a bill presented to the governor for the purpose of appointing you and another, one Dr. Lee I think he is called, to which the governor refused his assent.

"I cannot understand this, my lord; I think there must be some mistake in it. Is your lordship quite sure that you have such a letter?

"I will convince you of it directly; Mr. Pownall will come in and satisfy you."

So Mr. Pownall, invoked by the official bell, appeared upon the scene. But he could not play his part; he was obliged to say that there was no such letter. This was awkward; but Franklin was too civil or too prudent to triumph in the discomfiture of the other. He simply offered the "authentic copy of the vote of the House" appointing him, and asked if his lordship would "please to look at it." His lordship took the paper unwillingly, and then, without looking at it, said:—

Speaking thus, his lordship seemed warm, and grew pale, as if "angry at something or somebody besides the agent, and of more consequence to himself." Franklin thereupon, taking back his credentials, said, speaking with an innuendo aimed at that which had not been expressed, but which lay plainly visible behind his lordship's pallor and excitement:—

Therewith he made his exit, and went home to write the foregoing sketch of the scene. Certainly throughout so irritating an interview he had conducted himself with creditable self-restraint and moderation, yet with his closing sentence he had sent home a dart which rankled. He soon heard that his lordship "took great offense" at these last words, regarding them as "extremely rude and abusive," and as "equivalent to telling him to his face that the colonies could expect neither favor nor justice during his administration." "I find," adds Franklin, with placid satisfaction in the skill with which he had shot his bolt, "I find he did not mistake me."

So Franklin retained the gratification which lies in having administered a stinging and appreciated retort; a somewhat empty and entirely personal gratification, it must be admitted. Hillsborough kept the substance of victory, inasmuch as he persisted in refusing to recognize Franklin as the agent of the Massachusetts Bay. Yet in this he did not annihilate, indeed very slightly curtailed, Franklin's usefulness. It merely signified that Franklin ceased to be an official conduit for petitions and like communications. His weight and influence, based upon his knowledge and prestige, remained unimpugned. In a word, it was of little consequence that the lord secretary would not acknowledge him as the representative of one province, so long as all England practically treated him as the representative of all America.

From this time forth, of course, there was warfare between the secretary and the unacknowledged agent. Franklin began to entertain a "very mean opinion" of Hillsborough's "abilities and fitness for his station. His character is conceit, wrong-headedness, obstinacy, and passion. Those who speak most favorably of him allow all this; they only add that he is an honest man and means well. If that be true, as perhaps it may, I only wish him a better place, where only honesty and well-meaning are required, and where his other qualities can do no harm.... I hope, however, that our affairs will not much longer be perplexed and embarrassed by his perverse and senseless management." But for the present Franklin was of opinion that it would be well "to leave this omniscient, infallible minister to his own devices, and be no longer at the expense of sending any agent, whom he can displace by a repeal of the appointing act."

Hillsborough's theory was adopted by the board of trade, and Franklin therefore remained practically stripped of the important agency for Massachusetts. He anticipated that this course would soon put an end to all the colonial agencies; but he said that the injury would be quite as great to the English government as to the colonies, for the agents had often saved the cabinet from introducing, through misinformation, "mistaken measures," which it would afterward have found to be "very inconvenient." He expressed his own opinion that when the colonies "came to be considered in the light of distinct states, as I conceive they really are, possibly their agents may be treated with more respect and considered more as public ministers." But this was a day-dream; the current was setting in quite the opposite direction.

In point of fact, Massachusetts seems to have taken no detriment from this foolish and captious bit of chicanery. All the papers and arguments which she had occasion to have presented always found their way to their destination as well as they would have done if Franklin had been acknowledged as the quasi public minister, which he conceived to be his proper character.

Franklin perfectly appreciated that Hillsborough retained his position by precarious tenure. He shrewdly suspected that if the war with Spain, which then seemed imminent, were to break out, Hillsborough would at once be removed. For in that case it would be the policy of the government to conciliate the colonies, at any cost, for the time being. This crisis passed by, fortunately for the secretary and unfortunately for the provinces. Yet still the inefficient and ill-friended minister remained very infirm in his seat. An excuse only was needed to displace him, and by a singular and unexpected chance Franklin furnished that excuse. It was the humble and discredited colonial agent who unwittingly but not unwillingly gave the jar which toppled the great earl into retirement. His fall when it came gave general satisfaction. His unfitness for his position had become too obvious to be denied; he had given offense in quarters where he should have made friends; he had irritated the king and provoked the cabinet. Franklin, with his observant sagacity, quickly divined that George III. was "tired" of Hillsborough and "of his administration, which had weakened the affection and respect of the colonies for a royal government;" and accordingly he "used proper means from time to time that his majesty should have due information and convincing proofs" of this effect of his lordship's colonial policy.

It was, however, upon a comparatively trifling matter that Hillsborough finally lost his place. It has been already mentioned that many years before this time Franklin had urged the establishment of one or two frontier, or "barrier," provinces in the interior. He had never abandoned this scheme, and of late had been pushing it with some prospect of success; for among other encouraging features he astutely induced three privy councilors to become financially interested in the project. The original purpose of the petitioners had been to ask for only 2,500,000 acres of land; but Hillsborough bade them ask for "enough to make a province." This advice was grossly disingenuous; for Hillsborough himself afterward admitted that from the beginning he had intended to defeat the application, and had put the memorialists "upon asking so much with that very view, supposing it too much to be granted." But they, not suspecting, fell into the trap and increased their demand to 23,000,000 acres, certainly a sufficient quantity to call for serious consideration. When the petition came before the board of trade, Lord Hillsborough, who was president of the board, took upon himself the task of rendering a report. To the surprise of the petitioners, who had reason to suppose him well inclined, he replied adversely. The region was so far away, he said, that it would not "lie within the reach of the trade and commerce of this kingdom;" so far, also, as not to admit of "the exercise of that authority and jurisdiction ... necessary for the preservation of the colonies in due subordination to and dependence upon the mother country." The territory appeared, "upon the fullest evidence," to be "utterly inaccessible to shipping," and therefore the inhabitants would "probably be led to manufacture for themselves, ... a consequence ... to be carefully guarded against." Also part belonged to the Indians, who ought not to be disturbed, and settlements therein would of course lead to Indian wars and to "fighting for every inch of the ground." Further, the occupation of this tract "must draw and carry out a great number of people from Great Britain," who would soon become "a kind of separate and independent people, ... and set up for themselves," meeting their own wants and taking no "supplies from the mother country nor from the provinces" along the seaboard. At so great a distance from "the seat of government, courts, magistrates, etc.," the territory would "become a receptacle and kind of asylum for offenders," full of crime itself, and encouraging crime elsewhere. This disorderly population would soon "become formidable enough to oppose his majesty's authority, disturb government, and even give law to the other or first-settled part of the country, and thus throw everything into confusion." Such arguments were as feeble as they were bodeful. The only point which his lordship really scored was in reply to Franklin's theory of the protection against the Indians which these colonies would afford to those on the seaboard. Hillsborough well said that the new settlements themselves would stand most in need of protection. It was only advancing, not eliminating, a hostile frontier.

Evidently it required no very able reasoning, coming from the president of the board, to persuade his subordinates; and this foolish report was readily adopted. But Franklin was not so easily beaten; the privy council furnished one more stage at which he could still make a fight. He drew up a reply to Lord Hillsborough's paper and submitted it to that body. It was a long and very carefully prepared document; it dealt in facts historical and statistical, in which the report was utterly deficient; it furnished evidence and illustration; in arguing upon probabilities it went far toward demolishing the theories advanced by the president of the board. The two briefs were laid before a tribunal in which three men sat who certainly ought not to have been sitting in this cause, since Franklin's interest was also their own; but probably this did not more than counterbalance the prestige of official position in the opposite scale. Certainly Franklin had followed his invariable custom of furnishing his friends with ample material to justify them in befriending him. In this respect he always gallantly stood by his own side. The allies whom at any time he sought he always abundantly supplied with plain facts and sound arguments, in which weapons he always placed his chief trust. So at present, whatever was the motive which induced privy councilors to open their ears to what Franklin had to say, after they had heard him they could not easily decide against him. Nor had those of them who were personally disinterested any great inducement to do so, since, though some of them may have disliked him, none of them had any great liking for his noble opponent. So they set aside the report of the board of trade.[28]

Upon this Lord Hillsborough fell into a hot rage, and sent in his resignation. It was generally understood that he had no notion that it would be accepted, or that he would be allowed to leave upon such a grievance. He fancied that he was establishing a dilemma which would impale Franklin. But he was in error; he himself was impaled. No one expostulated with him; he was left to exercise "the Christian virtue of resignation" without hindrance. Franklin said that the anticipation of precisely this result, so far from being an obstacle in the way of his own success, had been an additional incitement to the course taken by the council.

So the earl, the enemy of America, went out; and the colonial agent had shown him the door, with all England looking on. It was a mortification which Hillsborough could never forgive, and upon four occasions, when Franklin made the conventional call to pay his respects, he did not find his lordship at home. At his fifth call he received from a lackey a very plain intimation that there was no chance that he ever would find the ex-secretary at home, and thereafter he desisted from the forms of civility. "I have never since," he said, "been nigh him, and we have only abused one another at a distance." Franklin had fully balanced one account at least.

So far as the special matter in hand was concerned, the worsting of Hillsborough, though a gratification, did not result in the bettering of Franklin and his co-petitioners. April 6, 1773, he wrote: "The affair of the grant goes on but slowly. I do not yet clearly see land. I begin to be a little of the sailor's mind, when they were landing a cable out of a store into a ship, and one of 'em said: ''T is a long heavy cable, I wish we could see the end of it.' 'Damn me,' says another, 'if I believe it has any end; somebody has cut it off.'" A cable twisted of British red tape was indeed a coil without an end. In this case, before the patent was granted, Franklin had become so unpopular, and the Revolution so imminent, that the matter was dropped by a sort o£ universal consent.

Hillsborough

Franklin rejoiced in this departure of Hillsborough as a good riddance of a man whom he thought to be as "double and deceitful" as any one he had ever met. It is possible that, as he had been instrumental in creating the vacancy, he may also have assisted in some small degree in disposing of the succession. One day he was complaining of Hillsborough to a "friend at court," when the friend replied that Hillsborough was wont to represent the Americans "as an unquiet people, not easily satisfied with any ministry; that, however, it was thought too much occasion had been given them to dislike the present;" and the question was asked whether, in case of Hillsborough's removal, Franklin "could name another likely to be more acceptable" to his countrymen. He at once suggested Lord Dartmouth. This was the appointment which was now made, in August, 1772, and the news of which gave much satisfaction to all the "friends of America." For Dartmouth was of kindly disposition, and when previously president of the board of trade had shown a liberal temper in provincial affairs.

The relationship between Franklin and Lord Dartmouth opened auspiciously. Franklin waited upon him at his first levee, at the close of October, 1772, and was received "very obligingly." Further Franklin was at once recognized as agent for Massachusetts, with no renewal of the caviling as to the manner of his appointment, from which he hopefully augured that "business was getting into a better train." A month later he reported himself as being still "upon very good terms" with the new minister, who, he had "reason to think, meant well by the colonies." So Dartmouth did, undoubtedly, and if the best of intentions and of feelings could have availed much at this stage of affairs, Franklin and his lordship might have postponed the Revolution until the next generation. But it was too late to counteract the divergent movements of the two nations, and no better proof could be desired of the degree to which this divergence had arrived than the fact itself that the moderate Franklin and the well-disposed Dartmouth could not come into accord. Each people had declared its political faith, its fundamental theory; and the faith and theory of the one were fully and fairly adverse to those of the other; and the instant that the talk went deep enough, this irreconcilable difference was sure to be exposed.

During the winter of 1772-73, following Lord Dartmouth's appointment, a lively dispute arose in Massachusetts between the Assembly and Governor Hutchinson. It was the old question, whether the English Parliament had control in matters of colonial taxation. The governor made speeches and said Yea, while the Assembly passed resolutions and said Nay. The early ships, arriving in England in the spring of 1773, brought news of this dispute, which seemed to have been indeed a hot one. The English ministry were not pleased; they wanted to keep their relationship with the colonies tranquil for a while, because there was a renewal of the danger of a war with Spain. Therefore they were vexed at the over-zeal of Hutchinson; and Lord Dartmouth frankly said so. Franklin called one day upon the secretary and found him much perplexed at the "difficulties" into which the governor had brought the ministers by his "imprudence." Parliament, his lordship said, could not "suffer such a declaration of the colonial Assembly, asserting its independence, to pass unnoticed." Franklin thought otherwise: "It is words only," he said; "acts of Parliament are still submitted to there;" and so long as such was the case "Parliament would do well to turn a deaf ear....Force could do no good." Force, it was replied, might not be thought of, but rather an act to lay the colonies "under some inconveniences, till they rescind that declaration." Could they by no possibility be persuaded to withdraw it? Franklin was clearly of opinion that the resolve could only be withdrawn after the withdrawal of the speech which it answered, "an awkward operation, which perhaps the governor would hardly be directed to perform." As for an act establishing "inconveniences," probably it would only put the colonies, "as heretofore, on some method of incommoding this country till the act is repealed; and so we shall go on injuring and provoking each other instead of cultivating that good will and harmony so necessary to the general welfare." Divisions, his lordship admitted, "must weaken the whole; for we are yet one empire, whatever may be the opinions of the Massachusetts Assembly." But how to escape divisions was the conundrum. Could his lordship withhold from Parliament the irritating documents, though in fact they were already notorious, and "hazard the being called to account in some future session of Parliament for keeping back the communication of dispatches of such importance?" He appealed to Franklin for advice; but Franklin would undertake to give none, save that, in his opinion, if the dispatches should be laid before Parliament, it would be prudent to order them to lie on the table. For, he said, "were I as much an Englishman as I am an American, and ever so desirous of establishing the authority of Parliament, I protest to your lordship I cannot conceive of a single step the Parliament can take to increase it that will not tend to diminish it, and after abundance of mischief they must finally lose it." So whenever the crucial test was applied these two men found themselves utterly at variance, and the hopelessness of a peaceful conclusion would have been obvious, had not each shunned a prospect so painful.

It must be confessed that, if Lord Dartmouth was so pathetically desirous to undo an irrevocable past, Dr. Franklin was no less anxious for the performance of a like miracle. Both the statesman and the philosopher would have appreciated better the uselessness of their efforts, had their feelings been less deeply engaged. Franklin's vain wish at this time was to move the peoples of England and America back to the days before the passage of the Stamp Act. "I have constantly given it as my opinion," he wrote, early in 1771, "that, if the colonies were restored to the state they were in before the Stamp Act, they would be satisfied and contend no farther." Two and a half years later, following the fable of the sibylline books, he expressed the more extreme opinion that "the letter of the two houses of the 29th of June, proposing as a satisfactory measure the restoring things to the state in which they were at the conclusion of the late war, is a fair and generous offer on our part, ... and more than Britain has a right to expect from us.... If she has any wisdom left, she will embrace it, and agree with us immediately."

But the insuperable trouble was that, at the close of the last war and before the passage of the Stamp Act, the controversy upon the question of right had been unborn. Now, having come into being, this controversy could not be laid at rest by a mere waiver; it was of that nature that its resurrection would be sure and speedy. Anything else would have been, of course, the practical victory of the colonies and defeat of England; and the English could not admit that things had reached this pass as yet. If England should not renounce her right, the colonies would always remain uneasy beneath the unretracted assertion of it; if she should never again seek to exercise it, she would be really yielding. It was idle to talk of such a state of affairs; it could not be brought about, even if it were conceivable that each side could be induced to repeal all its acts and resolves touching the subject,—and even this preliminary step was what no reasonable man could anticipate. In a word, when Franklin longed for the restoration of the status quo ante the Stamp Act, he longed for a chimera. A question had been raised, which was of that kind that it could not be compromised, or set aside, or ignored, or forgotten; it must be settled by the recession or by the defeat of one contestant or the other. Nothing better than a brief period of restless and suspicious truce could be gained by an effort to restore the situation of a previous date, even were such restoration possible, since the intervening period and the memory of its undetermined dispute concerning a principle could not be annihilated.

Still Franklin persistently refused to despair, so long as peace was still unbroken. Until blood had been shed, war might be avoided. This was no lack of foresight; occasionally an expression escaped him which showed that he fully understood the drift of affairs and saw the final outcome of the opposing doctrines. In 1769 he said that matters were daily tending more and more "to a breach and final separation." In 1771 he thought that any one might "clearly see in the system of customs to be exacted in America by act of Parliament, the seeds sown of a total disunion of the countries, though as yet that event may be at a considerable distance." By 1774 he said, in an article written for an English newspaper, that certain "angry writers" on the English side were using "their utmost efforts to persuade us that this war with the colonies (for a war it will be) is a national cause, when in fact it is a ministerial one." But he very rarely spoke thus. It was at once his official duty as well as his strong personal wish to find some other exit from the public embarrassments than by this direful conclusion. Therefore, so long as war did not exist he refused to admit that it was inevitable, and he spared no effort to prevent it, leaving to fervid orators to declare the contrary and to welcome it; nor would he ever allow himself to be discouraged by any measure of apparent hopelessness.

His great dread was that the colonies might go so fast and so far as to make matters incurable before thinking people were ready to recognize such a crisis as unavoidable. He seldom wrote home without some words counseling moderation. He wanted to see "much patience and the utmost discretion in our general conduct." It must not, however, be supposed that such language was used to cover any lukewarmness, or irresolution, or tendency towards halfway or temporizing measures. On the contrary, he was wholly and consistently the opposite of all this. His moderation was not at all akin to the moderation of Dickinson and such men, who were always wanting to add another to the long procession of petitions and protests. He only desired that the leading should be done by the wise men, so as not to have a Braddock's defeat in so grave and perilous an undertaking. He feared that a mob might make an irrevocable blunder, and the mischievous rabble create a condition of affairs which the real statesmen of the provinces could neither mend nor excuse. Certainly his anxiety was not without cause. He warned his country people that there was nothing which their enemies in England more wished than that, by insurrections, they would give a good pretense for establishing a large military force in the colonies. As between friends, he said, every affront is not worth a duel, so "between the governed and governing every mistake in government, every encroachment on right, is not worth a rebellion." So he thought that an "immediate rupture" was not in accordance with "general prudence," for by "a premature struggle," the colonies might "be crippled and kept down another age." No one, however, was more resolute than he that the mistakes and encroachments which had occurred should not be repeated. An assurance against such repetition, he tried to think, might be effected within a reasonably short time by two peaceful influences. One of these was a cessation of all colonial purchases of English commodities; the other was the rapid increase of the visible strength and resources of the colonies. He was urgent and frequent in reiterating his opinion of the great efficacy of the non-purchasing agreements. It is a little odd to find him actually declaring that, if the people would honestly persist in these engagements, he "should almost wish" the obnoxious act "never to be repealed;" for, besides industry and frugality, such a condition of things would promote a variety of domestic manufactures. In a word, this British oppression would bring about all those advantages for the infant nation, which, through the medium of the protective tariff, have since been purchased by Americans at a vast expense. Moreover, the money which used to be sent to England in payment for superfluous luxuries would be kept at home, to be there laid out in domestic improvements. Gold and silver, the scarcity of which caused great inconvenience in the colonies, would remain in the country. All these advantages would accrue from a course which at the same time must give rise in England itself to a pressure so extreme that Parliament could not long resist it. "The trading part of the nation, with the manufacturers, are become sensible how necessary it is for their welfare to be on good terms with us. The petitioners of Middlesex and of London have numbered among their grievances the unconstitutional taxes on America; and similar petitions are expected from all quarters. So that I think we need only be quiet, and persevere in our schemes of frugality and industry, and the rest will do itself." But it was obvious that, if the measures were not now persisted in until they should have had their full effect, a like policy could never again be resorted to; and Franklin gave it as his belief that, "if we do persist another year, we shall never afterwards have occasion to use" the remedy.

To him it seemed incredible that the people of America should not loyally persist in a policy of non-importation of English goods. Not only was the doing without these a benefit to domestic industries, but buying them was a direct aid and maintenance to the oppressor. He said: "If our people will, by consuming such commodities, purchase and pay for their fetters, who that sees them so shackled will think they deserve either redress or pity? Methinks that in drinking tea, a true American, reflecting that by every cup he contributed to the salaries, pensions, and rewards of the enemies and persecutors of his country, would be half choked at the thought, and find no quantity of sugar sufficient to make the nauseous draught go down."[29]

In this connection he was much "diverted" and gratified by the results of the Stamp Act, and especially of the act laying the duty on tea. The gross proceeds of the former statute, gathered in the West Indies and Canada, since substantially nothing was got in the other provinces, was £1500; while the expenditure had amounted to £12,000! The working of the Customs Act had been far worse. According to his statement, the unfortunate East India Company, in January, 1773, had at least £2,000,000, some said £4,000,000, worth of goods which had accumulated in their warehouses since the enactment, of which the chief part would, in the natural condition of business, have been absorbed by the colonies. The consequence was that the company's shares had fallen enormously in price, that it was hard pressed to make its payments, that its credit was so seriously impaired that the Bank of England would not help it, and that its dividends had been reduced below the point at and above which it was obliged to pay, and heretofore regularly had paid, £400,000 annually to the government. Many investors were painfully straitened, and not a few bankruptcies ensued. Besides the loss of this annual stipend the treasury was further the sufferer by the great expense which had been incurred in endeavoring to guard the American coast against smugglers; with the added vexation that these costly attempts had, after all, been fruitless. Fifteen hundred miles of shore line, occupied by people unanimously hostile to the king's revenue officers, presented a task much beyond the capabilities of the vessels which England could send thither. So the Dutch, the Danes, the Swedes, and the French soon established a thriving contraband trade; the American housewives were hardly interrupted in dispensing the favorite beverage; the English merchant's heavy loss became the foreign smuggler's aggravating gain; and the costly sacrifice of the East India Company fell short of effecting the punishment of the wicked Americans. Franklin could not "help smiling at these blunders." Englishmen would soon resent them, he said, would turn out the ministry that was responsible for them, and put in a very different set of men, who would undo the mischief. "If we continue firm and united, and resolutely persist in the non-consumption agreement, this adverse ministry cannot possibly stand another year. And surely the great body of our people, the farmers and artificers, will not find it hard to keep an agreement by which they both save and gain." Thus he continued to write so late as February, 1775, believing to the last in the efficacy of this policy.