once more brought before an implacable tribunal. The sight of Banquo's ghost could not more offend the eyes of Macbeth, than the knowledge of this old man being at Versailles should affect the minds of those who were principals in that horrid scene."

Burke appears to have been more sanguine than Franklin in regard to American affairs, and accordingly, not many days after the departure of his friend, he moved in the House of Commons a series of propositions as the basis for conciliation between Great Britain and America. His speech

on this occasion is said to have been one of the finest ever delivered within the walls of Parliament; yet it produced no more favourable results than had been effected by the close reasonings and experience of Pownall, or by the fervid eloquence of Chatham. No fewer than two hundred and seventy members, against seventy-eight, voted in favour of tyranny and subjugation. Well might Burke exclaim, in the course of his memorable oration: "A great empire and little minds go but ill together." "Pacification with America," writes Walpole to Mann, "is not the measure adopted. More regiments are ordered thither. They are bold ministers, methinks, who do not hesitate on a civil war, in which victory may bring ruin, and disappointment endanger their heads."

Thus gradually began to die away most of the remaining hopes entertained by the wise and the

far-sighted, of being able to avert the horrors of civil war and the dismemberment of the empire. Henceforth, the question at issue between the two countries was reduced to the simple, but momentous proposition, whether Great Britain was to subjugate her colonies, or whether the colonies were to achieve their independence. Such was the view which was taken of the subject by the French court; and, indeed, with the exception of the British ministers and the country gentlemen, such was the view which was beginning to be adopted on either side of the Atlantic.

There were two points, connected with American affairs, on which the imaginations of Lord North and his colleagues appear to have run completely wild. In the first place, it was still their conviction that the colonists, instead of fighting, would be easily frightened into submission; and secondly, they were no less satisfied that the affection, which the Americans still professed for the mother country, was nothing but a feint, and that independence had long been the end and aim of their leading men. How completely American valour subsequently gave the lie to the former conviction it is needless to observe. Nor was the second proposition, cruelly reflecting, as it did, on the sincerity of the straightforward founders of the American republic, less unsound than the first. For instance, when, in the preceding month of October, the high-minded Washington expressed

his conviction "that no such thing as independence was desired by any thinking man in America," is it conceivable that he was inditing a deliberate untruth? Again, when Franklin gave the same solemn assurance to Lord Chatham, is it credible that he was wilfully deceiving the stanchest champion and friend of American liberty and of the American people? "I assure your lordship," were Franklin's words, "that having more than once travelled almost from one end of the continent to the other, and kept a great variety of company, eating, drinking, and conversing with them freely, I never heard in any conversation from any person, drunk or sober, the least expression of a wish for a separation, or hint that such a thing would be advantageous to America." Did Jefferson tell an untruth when he wrote: "Before the 19th of April, 1775, I never heard a whisper of a disposition to separate from Great Britain ?” Or was John Adams similarly guilty of an untruth when, in March, 1775, he wrote of the people of Massachusetts: "That there are any who pant

'Again Washington writes, in 1774: "Give me leave to add, and I think I can announce it as a fact, that it is not the wish or interest of that government [Massachusetts], or of any other upon this continent, separately or collectively to set up for independence." Indeed, so late as the 1st of April, 1776, only three months before America declared her independence, Washing. ton wrote to Joseph Reed: "My countrymen, I know from their form of government and steady attachment heretofore to roy. alty, will come reluctantly into the idea of independence; but time and persecution bring many wonderful things to pass."

after independence is the greatest slander on the province?" "It is our greatest wish and inclination, as well as interest, to continue our connection with, and dependence upon, the British government," were the words of the famous resolution which, at the suggestion of Washington, was adopted by the people of Fairfax County, Virginia. No! The independence of America sprang not from premeditation nor intrigue. There may, indeed, have been a few of the more exasperated or ambitious of her sons, who, looking forward to the future greatness of their country, already aspired to throw off the yoke of the parent land; but as yet such had not been the desire of the wisest and the best. The revolution, now fast approaching, was not of the Americans' seeking. It was instigated neither by false patriots, nor by mob-orators, nor by dreaming political enthusiasts. The wrongs from which it sprang were neither imaginary, nor were they ordinary wrongs. It was the universal rising of a sagacious and a loyal people' in defence of their chartered liberties and their lives — a solemn appeal to the God of Battles to defend and uphold the right. "Our conduct," writes Horace Walpole to General Conway, "has been that of pert children. We have thrown a

'At a dinner given at New York on the 5th of July to General Wooster and the officers of the Connecticut corps, we find the first toast proposed and drunk to be "The king."

pebble at a mastiff, and are surprised it was not frightened."

In the meantime, the news of the arbitrary proceedings of the British legislature had greatly increased the ferment in America. All eyes, as formerly, were turned toward Massachusetts, and especially toward the people of Boston. In that city a dismal winter had been passed by the British regiments, on the one side, in inglorious inactivity, and by the leading men of the province in providing firearms, collecting military stores, and increasing their militia, or minutemen, who now amounted to several thousands. The sight of the soldiers fortifying Boston Neck had kept their exasperation constantly alive. A mere accident the loss of a single life in a scuffle-might at any moment kindle civil war throughout the whole continent of America.

Spring had scarcely set in, before such an occasion actually occurred. Intelligence having reached General Gage that a large magazine of military stores had been formed by the Americans at Concord, -an inland town, about twenty miles from Boston, he determined, at the repeated solicitations, it is said, of the American loyalists in Massachusetts, at once to effect either its capture or destruction. Accordingly, on the night of the 18th of April, a secret expedition, consisting of about eight hundred grenadiers, light infantry, and marines, under the command of