The more this chapter of history is examined, the more there will be found in it to justify the judgment of the venerable patriot.  It is fragrant with the political aroma of the time; and the event seems worthy to stand out in the American Revolution, like the Arrest of the Five Members in the English Revolution.  It is identified with a great principle.  It formed the crisis of an issue of the deepest moment.  It culminated in the triumph of the people when roused by passion and high resolve to heroic manhood.  The trial-scene was on so important a stage, was so richly dramatic, had actors of such dignity of character, and was so instinct with the national life, as “to deserve to be painted as much as the Surrender of Burgoyne.”  It was the moment when Samuel Adams, in the name of a resolute people, made the demand, as an ultimatum, for an immediate removal of the troops.  The close connection of this patriot with the whole transaction led Lord North, ever after, to call these troops by the title of “Sam Adams’s Two Regiments.”

The story of the introduction of these troops into Boston, also, is rich in matter illustrative of the springs of political action.  The narrative soon shows that it relates to far more than an ordinary transfer of a military force from one station to another.  Such transfers are not preceded by long hesitation in cabinets, or by long torture of peaceful communities in expectation of their arrival.  Yet such was the preface to the landing of this force in Boston.  It was sent on an uncommon service,—­a service insulting to a loyal people; and though this people had hailed the flag that waved over it with enthusiasm from the fields of Louisburg and Quebec, they now looked upon it with sorrowing eyes as the symbol of arbitrary power.

These troops were ordered to Boston at an interesting period of the American struggle.  The movement against the Stamp Act, noble as it was in the main, had phases that were deeply deplored by reflecting patriots.  Such were the riots, attended by destruction of property and personal outrage, which, though common in England, were violative of that reverence for law that was thoroughly ingrained in the American character; and they were, besides, rather in the spirit of hasty and irregular insurrection than of the slow and majestic development of revolution.  “We are not able in this way,” wrote Jonathan Mayhew, “to contend against Great Britain.”

On the repeal of the Stamp Act, there was an expression of general joy, and controversy subsided.  When fresh aggressions, in, the passage of the Revenue Acts of 1767, required a new movement, the popular leaders, profiting by past sad experience, strove to prevent excesses, and patiently labored to build up their cause in the growth of an intelligent public opinion.  Even in reference to obnoxious local officials, the word ran through the ranks,—­“Let there be no mobs, no riots.  Let not the hair of their scalps be touched.”  Hard as it is to restrain the rash, when the popular passion is excited, not a life was sacrificed, not a limb even was dislocated, by the patriots of Boston in political action, until the ripe hour of the Lexington rising.