it was insisted, ‘is to add dulness to impiety.’
‘tyranny,’ they cried, ‘is no government; the gospel promises liberty, glorious liberty.’
‘The gospel,’ so preached Mayhew
, of Boston
, always, ‘the gospel permits resistance.’1
And then patriots would become maddened with remembering, that ‘some high or low American had had a hand in procuring every grievance.’
,’ it was said, ‘is deceived and deluded by placemen and office-seekers.’
‘Yes,’ exclaimed the multitude; ‘it all comes of the horse-leeches.’
When ‘the friends to government’ sought to hush opposition by terror of the power of parliament and its jealousy of its own supremacy, ‘you are cowards,’ was the answer; ‘you are fools; you are parasites; or, rather, you are parricides.’2
‘Power is a sad thing,’ said the Presbyterians of Philadelphia
; ‘our mother should remember we are children and not slaves.’3
‘When all Israel
saw that the king hearkened not unto them,’ such was the response of the Calvinists of the North
, ‘the people answered the king, saying: ‘What portion have we in David?
what inheritance in the son of Jesse?
To your tents, O Israel!
Now see to thine own house, David!’’4
‘Who cares,’ said the more hardy, ‘whether George or Louis is the sovereign, if both are alike?’5
‘The beast of burden,’ continued others, ‘asks not whose pack it carries.’6
‘I would bear allegiance to King George,’ said one who called himself a lover of truth, ‘but not be a slave to his British subjects.’7