secondly, Franklin received his dismissal from his situation as deputy postmaster-general for America.'

In connection with the treatment of Franklin by the Privy Council, a remarkable anecdote has been recorded. In anticipation of the anxiously looked-for day, which was destined alike to secure independence to America and to complete the humiliation of his patrician deriders, Franklin laid carefully by the "full-dress suit of Manchester velvet" which he had worn when laughed to scorn by the lords of the Council at Whitehall. on one more occasion, according to his friends, he wore it, when, four years afterward, as commissioner from the United States to the court of Versailles, he signed the famous treaties of commerce and alliance with France."

Only

'This situation is said to have been barren of revenue till Franklin was appointed to it, and to have ceased to yield any receipts so soon as he was dismissed.

2 There is even reason for believing that Franklin wore the "full-dress suit of Manchester velvet" on a second and still more important occasion; namely, when, in 1782, he signed the preliminaries of the treaty by which Great Britain acknowledged the independence of America. This latter presumption, according to the late Mr. Allen, "rests on authority not slightly to be rejected. It was related to Lord Holland by Lord St. Helens, one of the plenipotentiaries employed in negotiating the treaty, and the lasting impression it made on Lord St. Helens leaves little doubt of the accuracy of his recollection. He could not speak without indignation of the triumphant air with which Franklin told them he had laid by and preserved his coat for such an occasion."

In the meantime, another change, introduced by Lord North into the revenue code, was about to give birth to fresh discontents and fresh disturbances in the Province of Massachusetts. In consequence of the trade of the East India Company having fallen into an almost stagnant condition, it was resolved by ministers, among other remedial measures, to allow the company to carry their tea direct to the American ports, and there land it, subject to a trifling duty of threepence a pound to be paid by the colonists. At the same time, it was proposed to take off the customs duty in England, amounting to one shilling in the pound, a concession which-inasmuch as it would diminish the cost of tea in the colonies — would, it was hoped, not only afford gratification to the Americans, and induce them to break up their non-importation societies, but would produce the further effect of putting an end to the smuggling trade with Holland, which, in the article of tea, was being carried on to a very injurious extent. The measure, although its judiciousness as a commercial expedient was afterward called in question, was nevertheless accepted with gratitude by the East India Company, and in due course passed into law without opposition, and almost without

comment.

Very different, however, from what had been anticipated was the effect which this well-intentioned measure produced upon the minds of the

colonists. The word "tax" still grated as harshly as ever on American ears. Great Britain, they insisted, had evidently some sinister object in view. If they accepted the measure, they said, the consequences might prove fatal to their liberties. A window-tax, a hearth-tax, a land-tax, even a poll-tax, would in all probability follow. Accordingly, for some time previously to the company's ships making their appearance off the American coast, it was evident that a violent opposition would be offered to the landing of their cargoes. In many places the consignees of tea were compelled to fling up their agencies; at Philadelphia the pilots were warned not to conduct the teaships into port; at New York it was given out that they were freighted not with tea, but with fetters.

Such was the excited state of public feeling in America when the first tea-ship made its appearance in the port of Boston. A project for destroying its cargo was speedily organised and matured. At a time when the town was to all appearance in a state of perfect tranquillity, a vast concourse of people were all at once to be seen wending their way in the direction of the quay. Interspersed with the crowd were a number of individuals disguised and painted as Mohawk Indians, who, suddenly separating themselves from their companions, flung themselves on board the tea-ships, mastered the crews, and took possession of the cargoes.