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A Constitutional History of the United States
Chapter VI - After the Stamp Act
by McLaughlin, Andrew C.

American satisfaction, induced by the repeal of the Stamp Act, did not long endure, for new troubles were in store. The politicians and placemen at Westminster had no proper appreciation of American sentiment; they had no sense of the enormous difficulty of managing an empire, especially an empire containing some two million colonists who were shrewd, determined, and peculiarly restless under restraint. The Rockingham ministry, in whose administration the stamp tax had been withdrawn, was succeeded in the summer of 1766 by a ministry a number of the members of which were followers of Pitt, who at the same time accepted a peerage and entered the Lords as Earl of Chatham; "the Great Commoner" was to be heard no more in the House where he had electrified his hearers and led the nation. Illness, moreover, soon came upon him, and such influence as he otherwise might have exerted was thus denied him; he could have done little to shape events. Britain was in no mood to listen to the sort of doctrine he was prepared to advocate; above all, the men who had their hands on the offices and on the treasury coffers, the men who were the leaders in politics and those who were the bright stars in the social firmament, were not inclined to emphasize the principle of freedom in the empire.

The new cabinet was a strange compound, the "mosaic" ministry Burke called it, "a very curious show, but utterly unsafe to touch and unsure to stand on." Charles Townshend, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, a nimble-witted and eminently clever man, who had a strange capacity for amusing the Commons by his audacity and trivial sallies, took matters in hand and proposed to collect a revenue in America. He could do it, he seems to have thought, without ruffling the easily-ruffled tempers of those strange people who made a nonsensical distinction between internal and external taxation; if they loved the distinction, he would make the most of it. The scheme which he carried through provided for the appointment of commissioners to superintend the collection of duties in the colonies; there were to be no more shuffling and unmannerly avoidance. Taxes were laid on glass, tea, painters' colors, and paper; the old navigation acts were to be enforced and duties were to find their way into the treasury. Furthermore, writs of assistance were elaborately provided for; and, as if intent on making the medicine as unpalatable as possible, the preamble of the Revenue Act (1767) announced the expediency of raising revenue to make a more certain "provision for defraying the charge of the administration of justice, and the support of civil government, in such provinces where it shall be found necessary; and towards further defraying the expences of defending, protecting, and securing the said dominions...." [l]

Though it is not our job to discern the cumulative irritations that finally provoked rebellion, or to discuss at length the expediency of ministerial conduct, it is scarcely possible to pass over these acts or their enforcement without comment. Here was an expensive and troublesome method of enforcing the acts of trade and navigation, a method proving to be exceedingly trying, though on the whole effective. The colonists did not like to pay taxes; they especially disliked the show of power, the ceaseless surveillance. They did not like writs of assistance, those general warrants which in the hands of unmannerly or corrupt officials appeared to menace the very sanctity of their households. They were accustomed to a wide freedom of legislation in their own assemblies; what was to become of self-government, if Parliament with a word could let loose upon them a whole flock of revenue-collecting locusts? But more distasteful than all else, more distasteful at least to the colonial politicians, was the intent or the threat of placing the courts of justice under the control of the Crown. Officers of civil government were to be paid or might be paid from the revenue thus collected. Were the royal governors to be relieved from their old fear, the fear that they might not receive their salaries, if they did not behave themselves?

Whatever argument may be made in behalf of the naked legal right of Parliament to extort money, it is plain that the cunning Charles Townshend and the clamoring official claquers at Westminster were running counter to the practices of a century and were disregardful of what Americans deemed their privileges. If the colonists had an unusual dislike of taxes, they were also proud and sensitive; and there were among them not only merchants and men of commerce, but astute players in the game of politics. If money could be raised only by such means as the agile-witted Townshend adopted, then revenue might be no blessing to anybody. The net results appear to have been, on the fiscal side, the collection of no inconsiderable revenue and the expenditure of the funds to enforce the acts;[2] on the purely human side, the exasperation of the British subjects in America; in other words, the whole thing was somewhere below the lowest limit of statesmanship. Finally, the revenue was to be used for "protecting, and securing the said dominions...." It was to be used or might be used to pay the soldiery; and though the colonists were still unwavering in their loyalty, there was no love lost between them and the British men-at-arms. True, the Britons had sent troops to fight the French and Indians; Canada had been conquered; but there must have been something humorous in the anxiety to defend colonists who for a hundred and fifty years had been gradually though surely pushing their way westward and had, almost entirely by their own exertions and brave persistence, built up an empire, the advantages of which were now supposed to accrue to the Parliament and merchants of the mother country.[3]

That the colonists were vexed is not a matter for wonder; the wonder is that they did not immediately take arms, at all events the arms of counter argument, against the whole system of trade restrictions; for the acts of navigation, though modified in some particulars for revenue purposes, were now enforced as never before, and one would be inclined to think that the system of regulating colonists "on the maxims of the counter" would have called forth maledictions on its head. But the colonists were used to the navigation acts, though in part the restrictions were honored more in the breach than the observance. And again we recall Burke's later words that "men do bear the inevitable constitution of their original nature with all its infirmities." Colonies were "confirmed in obedience ... even more by usage than by law."[4]

We must now turn to what is for us the important matter. How did the colonists take up opposition to the Townshend Acts? What principles of government did they announce? Their most important spokesman was John Dickinson of Pennsylvania. He had taken an important share in the Stamp Act Congress of 1765 and earned in the course of the coming years the title of the "Penman of the American Revolution." Like other colonial leaders, he was a lawyer by training, for lawyers were now coming into their own; he had studied law at the Middle Temple in London; like some leaders, and more than most, he could write with clearness and he knew what he was talking about — a happy, if unusual, combination of abilities. In 1767 and 1768, his "Farmer's Letters" were printed in a Philadelphia newspaper.[5] The attention they received was remarkable; they were reproduced in the American press and were soon published in pamphlet form, not only in America but abroad.[6] None but the illiterate or the remote frontiersman could have been ignorant of the case presented by the "Farmer", and the wide acclaim justifies us in believing that he stated the American cause as the people wished it to be stated.[7]

Of first importance is the fact that Dickinson, while writing with real eloquence and with literary power, did not indulge in declamation or wild denunciation. There was no intent of arousing the passions of the multitude. He was himself, as Tyler has said, "a man of powerful and cultivated intellect, with all his interests and all his tastes on the side of order, conservatism, and peace, if only with these could be had political safety and honor." [8] While he defended the principles of English liberty, he spoke for an empire of justice.

Dickinson had a difficult task, for he had really to present in broad outline a scheme of empire. He spoke as an Englishman claiming the birthright of an Englishman, as the possessor of privileges won for him and for others by Englishmen who had dared to struggle for their rights; but he spoke also as a citizen of a wide empire in which the rights of Englishmen must be maintained. His argument was not wholly new, but it presented with elaboration and with clarity important views of the constitutional structure of the empire.[9] He envisaged a composite or decentralized system regardful of individual liberty and colonial privilege. He seemed at times to be more insistent upon the unity of the empire than upon the rights of the colonies; or, if that be an over-statement, this is beyond cavil — he spoke not as a disgruntled colonist, cherishing rebellion, but as a citizen of the British empire who gloried in its symmetry and strength. The general applause which his words received is striking proof that people did not wish independence but freedom; and those capable of following his argument must have seen that his picture of the empire embraced both freedom and authority.[10]

The most signal contribution made by Dickinson, if we except his strong portrayal of imperial unity consonant with local rights, was his sharp definition of taxation and the distinction between taxation and the regulation of commerce. As we have already seen, others had made the distinction; but even Dulany had not left a clear-cut impression. Dickinson defined taxation as an imposition for raising revenue. The difference between internal and external taxation, he scorned and rejected. He quite properly denied that the Americans had ever committed themselves to such a classification; "all taxes are founded on the same principles; and have the same tendency."[11]

Why is Dickinson's position important? It is important because he believed that in the British empire powers had been distributed; because he made a sharp distinction between one "power" and another; and because our system of government rests on the distribution of "powers" among governments. Every schoolboy knows that we now, in the United States, distinguish the "power" to tax from the "power" to regulate commerce. Anyone knowing the simplest rudiments of American constitutional law as America produced it knows that "powers" are singled out and deposited in one government or another. Everybody knows that this essential characteristic of our system has caused legal discussion in Congress and courts of law and that perplexing problems have arisen in actual practice. Without distribution of powers, American federalism would be non-existent. The important thing now is to see Dickinson portraying an empire in which the central government could exercise wide authority for the whole, while the colonies maintained their freedom; for the Parliament could not tax.

The English pamphleteers could have a merry time with the "Farmer", but their merriment and their serious attempts at refutation were a tribute to the strength of his appeal. If forsooth, said the pamphleteers, you can lay impositions for trade regulations and not for taxation, then, to be sure, a light tax would be unconstitutional while an imposition, so heavy as to be prohibitory and intended to prohibit, would be constitutional; could anyone in his senses defend such a legal system? As a matter of cold fact, such refinements are now simple and crude in comparison with those constantly made by our own courts in laying down constitutional principles. Any person, even the brilliant scoffers at the "Farmer's" scheme of empire, insisting that Parliament must have all power or none,[12] ought to have known that even in the application of private law, distinctions are often to be drawn which are so tenuous as to be almost undiscernible to the untrained mind. So if you are to have a legal structure of empire, you may expect to find finely-drawn distinctions.

The whole controversy, we may remind ourselves, was over the problem of whether Parliament was absolute or not. Was it absolute in its authority over every British subject? Was it possessed of full and unqualified competence in the empire — in other words, was the empire a centralized empire or was it on the contrary a legally diversified empire? Dickinson proved, or thought he did, that Parliament had regulated trade and had not taxed. There can be no question of the fact that in a very large degree the empire had been a commercial empire, not a lawmaking empire for all its subjects. And if we did not know the perversity of human nature and the ease with which men believe what they want to believe, we should be puzzled by the men who so emphatically denied the possibility of there being legal recognition of what had in reality been a working practice for a hundred years. If Parliament had in the past regulated trade and had not taxed, why was it impossible to conceive the make-up of an empire in which Parliament could legally regulate trade and could not legally tax? [13] However this may be, the American colonists of 1768, eagerly devouring the "Farmer's Letters" and toasting the author in public houses up and down the land,[14] were, in appearance at least, accepting the theory of an empire guided by a Parliament with authority to guard the whole and to regulate intercolonial and foreign trade, and with the obligation not to tax the colonies or reduce their legislatures to impotence.

What was Massachusetts to say to the Townshend Acts and the new customs commissioners? Where Sam Adams lived, there something would be said. In the early days of 1768 the Massachusetts representatives were busily at work. Various letters were drawn up and sent to England, all of them announcing the same principles, all of them couched in polite, but unmistakable language.[15] The appeal was chiefly to the British constitution in which were placed and guarded the fundamental rights of men. Over and over again appeared in one form or another the declarations that "The supreme legislative, in every free state, derives its power from the constitution; by the fundamental rules of which, it is bounded and circumscribed." [16] "It is an essential, natural right, that a man shall quietly enjoy, and have the sole disposal of his own property. This right is adopted into the constitution." "Property is admitted to have an existence, even in the savage state of nature." "In all free states, the constitution is fixed; it is from thence, that the legislative derives its authority; therefore it cannot change the constitution without destroying its own foundation." "The security of right and property, is the great end of government." Such sentiments were often repeated, but there was no denial of parliamentary control; even in the petition to the king there was an acknowledgment of "the supreme Legislative power of the whole Empire" and its "superintending authority ... in all Cases, that can consist with the fundamental Rights of Nature & the Constitution...."

Among these documents the most important was a circular letter sent by the Massachusetts house to the speakers of other houses of representatives. It gave utterance to the principles just quoted, declaring that the constitution is fixed, that the legislative power cannot overleap the bounds of it, and that it "ascertains & limits both Sovereignty & allegiance...." This letter was of course the common property of the colonists. It was made especially conspicuous by the action of Hillsborough, the Colonial Secretary, who ordered the house to rescind; this the house promptly refused to do.

We have, then, in the "Farmer's Letters" and in these documents from the Massachusetts house definite evidence of American opinion in 1768. No doubt there were other opinions even more advanced, for some men were more rebellious in spirit; and doubtless, too, some persons were ready to assert their total freedom from parliamentary control; but almost to the days of the outbreak of war, these more radical positions cannot be considered the opinions of America. How did the principles of the "Farmer" differ from those of Sam Adams and his followers, and what did the two writers have in common? Neither one denied the authority of Parliament as the superintending power of the empire; neither denied the authority of Parliament to regulate trade. Dickinson, however, spoke more plainly than Adams of the empire; that empire was built on the foundations of English liberty; in this empire there was a distinction between powers. Adams, in denying the right to tax, relied upon the argument of natural rights, insisted that the constitution was fixed, and emphasized the right to property as fundamental. The British statesmen might announce the supreme and unlimited authority of Parliament; Adams was prepared to deny the existence of absolute authority in any free state, above all in the constitution of Britain. Briefly, one brought out clearly the possibility of distinguishing "powers" of government and presented to view a diversified empire; the other emphasized the limits on all free governments and stressed the fundamental, unchangeable bounds of the constitution; and this is only to say that the two, mutually supporting, brought forward the two chief foundations of the American constitutional system — a diversified state or empire and a fixed constitution superior to legislative authority. The constitution, as Adams and others viewed it, was fixed and, at least in certain respects, was beyond the touch of legislative authority because within it were embodied fundamental natural rights which were eternal and unalterable. The principles of Adams and of Dickinson coincided in this: both believed in the right and the necessity of living under governments constitutionally limited.

Though Dickinson dwelt chiefly on the difference between taxation and other powers, plainly the superintending power of the Parliament included more than the regulation of commerce. A full examination of the discussion would reveal the colonial acceptance, in theory at least, of the distribution of powers in the empire as the empire had been. I say "in theory at least", for lasting satisfaction with acts of trade, or humble acquiescence in the activities of customs commissioners and of a swarm of spoilsmen let loose from the hives of Westminster, would have been impossible. The Revolution might have come before many years because of diverging interests, ineptitude of British administration, and the willfulness of the colonists; in fact, however, the Americans set forth the old empire as the one with which they were content, and that empire was in practice an empire in which the colonial governments had their share of authority.

So much has been said of the justice or injustice of taxation that we do not always see that the very existence of the colonial governments was at stake. True, the eager legalists in Britain had no intention of banishing the colonial assemblies altogether; but the colonists were afraid, and justly so, for the empire in the British view was a unitary empire and a centralized empire; all power was gathered at the center and the subordinate governments existed only by sufferance. While the colonials resisted the injustice and illegality of taxation, they must have been stupid indeed not to see that the choice lay between a diversified or decentralized empire on the one hand and a unitary, centralized empire on the other.

The discussion was legal discussion; it concerned the structure of the empire and the authority of government. It will not do to dwell upon the number of shillings collected as revenue, or even upon the vexing intrusions of the royal officials, and lose sight of the peril to the assemblies and to the whole political structure of the colonies. If the colonists are not to be charged with political incapacity and a remarkable obtuseness, it is folly to declare that the Revolution was only an economic movement in its causes, operations, and results. No people, possessed of self-respect and a glimmering of political sagacity, could listen unmoved while pamphleteers proclaimed a doctrine, which, if carried out in detail and wrought out to its theoretical end, would deprive them of their own institutions of government. Without the citation of countless references, we can be confident that the American colonists, more strongly than any other people on earth, were imbued with an instinct for practical politics; they, too, were legal-minded, and they, too, even more than the obedient servants of King George, were sensitive and proud, even when not rebellious.[17]

Almost, if not quite, from the beginning of the dispute — in the Stamp Act dispute as well as later — discussion was within the realm of law. Certainly not entirely for any immediate, practical, financial gain, but from a desire to establish a system and a settled legal authority, royal officers in the colonies had spoken of remodeling colonial governments. Francis Bernard, writing in the summer of 1764, said, "It seems to me that the affairs of America are becoming very critical; that common expedients would soon begin to fail; and that a general reformation of the American Governments would become not only a desirable but a necessary measure." [18] Bernard was against mere opportunism. "The patchwork government of America will last no longer: the necessity of a parliamentary establishment of the governments of America upon fixed constitutional principles, is brought on with a precipitation which could not have been foreseen but a year ago...." This he wrote in 1765.[19] Soon after this, Hutchinson wished "to see known established principles, one general rule of subjection...." [20] "... while the rules of law are vague and uncertain, especially in such fundamental points, our condition is deplorable...."[21]

The brusque British pamphleteers laid down their final conclusion as the starting-point for their argument, and what they desired was an acknowledgment by America of parliamentary power; they desired the acceptance of a constitutional theory. We need not deny the British landowner's anxiety for a reduced tax upon his acres; but he also desired to see an acknowledgment of the authority of the Parliament in which he or men like him sat and legislated. The Americans in their turn, though many would be content with negligence, were now insisting on the necessity of maintaining their privileges and the legal basis on which they rested. They were not quite satisfied, now that the issue was raised, to accept the principles of absolute power with the assurance that a kindly king and a well-intentioned Parliament would not abuse the power: "In all free states, the constitution is fixed...." Dickinson eloquently phrased the central idea: "For who are a free people? Not those, over whom government is reasonably and equitably exercised, but those, who live under a government so constitutionally checked and controuled, that proper provision is made against its being otherwise exercised." [22] Freedom, then, there was none, if there was no constitutional restraint upon authority. This, again, is American doctrine.

Both sides were technical and legalistic. The parliamentarians were the victims of certain dogmas curiously similar to the doctrine of indivisible sovereignty, and they cherished the august power of Parliament. The Americans were legal-minded and argumentative; if Parliament asserted its supremacy, announcing that it was, so to speak, above the law, the colonists were eager to assert the supremacy of the constitution, their indefeasible, legal rights in their own institutions. They asserted that the law was above Parliament.

Soon after 1768, in light of the objection raised in America, there appears to have been no real hope in Britain of raising revenue in America. It is true that the acts regulating trade were more vigorously enforced and that more revenue was collected than in earlier days. To some considerable extent from 1766, but especially after 1768, the question was not so much whether the colonists would pay taxes as whether they would acknowledge their legal obligation to pay. To avoid misunderstanding, this should be said: the measures taken to enforce the laws of Parliament were annoying and irksome, provocative of rebellion; the colonists of Massachusetts resented troops sent to overawe them, and disliked ships of war, informers, and all the panoply of power. They resented the show of British authority and they, or many of them, had no taste for taxes or for the strict enforcement of navigation laws. That they would have flown to arms against a naked declaration of British supremacy, unaccompanied by actual acts and threats against their government, we have no reason to suppose.

[1] Italics of the original omitted.

[2] In about seven years the commissioners collected over £200,000 sterling; a large portion was paid out in salaries. See Edward Channing, A History of the United States, III, p. 91. "Actually there was no return whatever because the cost of the soldiers and sailors and vessels required to enforce these revenue acts far exceeded the gross returns." Ibid., p. 91, note 1.

[3] I have not taken up in these pages the justice or injustice of taxing the colonies; but it may be said, as the colonists distinctly said, that they did pay taxes, though not directly into the British treasury; they supported their own governments; the colonists paid the governors' salaries, though only in two colonies did they choose them. They had taken part in the wars of the empire and some of the colonies were then burdened with heavy taxes. Their trade was in some respects made secondary to the interests of West Indian planters and to the pockets of British merchants.

[4] Edmund Burke, "Speech on American Taxation" (1774), Works (revised ed.), II, p. 33.

[5] The full title was "Letters From a Farmer in Pennsylvania, to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies."

[6] Tyler, The Literary History of the American Revolution (one volume ed.), pp. 236-237, says the "Letters" were reproduced in all but four of the twenty-five newspapers then published in America. Editions appeared in England and Ireland, and there was also a French edition. Dickinson was applauded by Voltaire, and on the continent of Europe his essays "became ... the fashion." See also, John Dickinson, Writings (P. L. Ford, ed.; Memoirs of the Hist. Society of Pa., XIV), I, p. 279 ff.

[7] For a statement of the popularity of Dickinson's "Letters", see C. J. Stillé, The Life and Times of John Dickinson (Memoirs of the Hist. Society of Pa., XIII), pp. 90-92. Thomas Hutchinson stated the position the colonies had come to occupy (1767): "The authority of Parliament to pass any acts whatever affecting the interior polity of the Colonies is, he says, challenged, as destroying the effect of the charters, to which great sacredness is attached. People have teen induced to settle in the plantations on the strength of the charters, relying on the continuance of the privileges. King, Lords, and Commons form the legislature of Great Britain: the Governor, who is the King's representative, the Council, and the Assembly form the legislature of the Colony. But as Colonies cannot make laws to extend further than their respective limits, Parliament must step in in all cases to which the legislative power of the Colonies does not extend. Parliament ought to go no farther than this: all beyond is infringing upon the domain of the colonial legislatures. From Virginia to Massachusetts this has now come to be the accepted doctrine." J. K. Hosmer, The Life of Thomas Hutchinson, p. 122. This statement Hosmer bases upon Hutchinson's own words in his History of Massachusetts Bay, III, p. 172.

[8] Tyler, The Literary History of the American Revolution (one volume ed.), p. 235.

[9] As we have seen, Hopkins and Dulany had a view of empire, and the view is not to be denied to others.

[10] "The parliament unquestionably possesses a legal authority to regulate the trade of Great-Britain, and all her colonies. Such an authority is essential to the relation between a mother country and her colonies; and necessary for the common good of all. He, who considers these provinces as states distinct from the British Empire, has very slender notions of justice, or of their interests. We are but parts of a whole; and therefore there must exist a power somewhere to preside, and preserve the connection in due order. This power is lodged in the parliament; and we are as much dependent on Great-Britain, as a perfectly free people can be on another." John Dickinson, Writings (P. L. Ford, ed.; Memoirs of the Hist. Society of Pa., XIV), I, p. 312. Italics of the original omitted.

[11] Ibid., I, p. 332. Italics of the original omitted.

[12] "There is no alternative: either the Colonies are a part of the community of Great Britain, or they are in a state of nature with respect to her, and in no case can be subject to the jurisdiction of that legislative power which represents her community, which is the British parliament." See William Knox, The Controversy Between Great Britain and Her Colonies Reviewed (London, 1769), pp. 50-51. We find once again, too, the theories of centralization and the absolute authority of Parliament. Nothing could more fully discredit legalism, so shortsighted that it could not see any possibility of change. Knox was denying that Parliament or common reason could recognize the illegality of doing what it had not done and what the passing years showed it could not do.

[13] To-day those persons finding Dickinson's argument full of inconsistencies and sweeping it aside as one of those heated blunderings dear to the colonial heart seem to forget the rudiments of the American constitutional system. Dickinson was speaking in the terms of American constitutionalism as it came to be. His argument, while distinguishing between taxation and regulation of commerce, rested partly on the purpose of the legislation. He saw the difficulty of making the purpose absolutely effective. He relied on the good sense of the British people, if once the distinction was recognized. He might, theoretically, have gone further, and as James Otis had called upon the court to check legislation in violation of natural equity, so Dickinson might have declared that courts would recognize the fact of the purpose or effect and would declare void an act, which, though on its face a regulation, was intended to collect revenue.

For an attempt of Congress, under cover of a granted power, to accomplish ends not within the scope of its authority, see Hammer v. Dagenhart, 247 U. S. 251 (1918). In this case the Court declared an act which purported to regulate interstate commerce was an encroachment upon the powers of the states: "The purposes intended must be attained consistently with constitutional limitations...." 276. The necessary effect of the act, the Court declared, was "by means of a prohibition against the movement in interstate commerce of ordinary commercial commodities, to regulate the hours of labor of children in factories and mines within the States...." Ibid. See also Bailey v. Drexel Furniture Company, 259 U. S. 20 (1922), for a somewhat similar decision. In McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheaton 316, 423 (1819), Chief Justice Marshall said: "Should Congress, in the execution of its powers, adopt measures which are prohibited by the constitution; or should Congress, under the pretext of executing its powers, pass laws for the accomplishment of objects not entrusted to the government, it would become the painful duty of this tribunal, should a case requiring such a decision come before it, to say that such an act was not the law of the land." Italics mine.

[14] A town-meeting in Boston in March, 1768 passed a vote of thanks to "the ingenious author...." See Stillé, op. cit., p. 91.

[15] Most of them were written to the friends of America in Britain, and are attributed to the pen of Sam Adams. See Samuel Adams, Writings (H. A. Cushing, ed.), I, pp. 134-199. Concerning authorship, see p. 152, note 2. One letter was a petition to the King; one letter was addressed to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury.

[16] Ibid., I, p. 134. See also, Ibid., I, p. 135 ff.

[17] Some of the words in the sentences above sound like mere patriotic exclamations of an older day than this. There is no reason for denying the influence of economic causes in the Revolution; but men have and had their pride as well as thrift, and it is folly not to see the immense significance of a struggle for constitutional liberty.

[18] Francis Bernard, Select Letters on the Trade and Government of America; and the Principles of Law and Polity, Applied to the American Colonies (London, 1774), p. 24. Capitalization and italics of the original omitted.

[19] Letter of November 23, 1765, in Ibid., pp. 33-34. Italics of the original omitted.

[20] Letter of April 21, 1766, quoted in Quincy (Mass.) Reports (1761-1772), pp. 443-444.

[21] Letter of December 31, 1766, quoted in Hosmer, Hutchinson, p. 121.

[22] John Dickinson, Writings (P. L. Ford, ed.; Memoirs of the Hist. Society of Pa., XIV), I, p. 356. Capitalization and italics of the original omitted.


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