The adoption of any one of these proposals disposed of the others.  The first of them was first submitted to a vote, and prevailed.  A General Court after the ancient pattern was constituted accordingly.  The persons just deputed from the towns made the Lower House.  Governor Treat and Lieutenant-Governor Bishop resumed their functions, with ten Magistrates elected with them two years before, besides others now chosen to fill the places of Magistrates who had died meanwhile.

The first measure of the Court was, to order “that all the laws of this Colony formerly made according to Charter, and courts constituted in this Colony for administration of justice, as they were before the late interruption, should be of full force and virtue for the future, and till the Court should see cause to make further and other alteration and provision according to Charter.”  The second vote was, to confirm “all the present military officers.”  Justices of the Peace were appointed for the towns.  The armament of the fort at Saybrook was provided for.  The Governor was charged to convene the General Court, “in case any occasion should come on in reference to the Charter or Government.”  It was soon convened accordingly, in consequence of the arrival of intelligence of the accession of William and Mary to the throne; a day of Thanksgiving was appointed; and the King and Queen were proclaimed with all solemnity.

Again Englishmen were free and self-governed in all the settlements of New England.

* * * * *

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE EARLY LIFE OF AN OLD BACHELOR.

Allusion was made in “The Schoolmaster’s Story,” told in these pages last month, to two old bachelors.  I am one of them.  Early this morning, while taking my walk, I saw, growing about a rock, some little blue flowers, such as I used to pick when a child.  I had broken off a few, and was stooping for more, when some one near said, “Good morning, Captain Joseph!”

It was Mrs. Maylie, the minister’s wife, going home from watching.  After a little talk, she told me, in her pleasant way, that I had two things to do, of which, by the doing, I should make but one:  I was to write a story, and to show good reason for keeping myself all to myself.

“Mrs. Maylie,” said I, “do I look like a person who has had a story?  I am a lonely old man,—­a hard old man.  A story should have warmth.  Don’t you see I’m an icicle?”

“Not quite,” said she.  “I know of two warm spots.  I see you every day watching the children go past; and then, what have you there?  Icicles never cling to flowers!”

After she had gone, I began thinking what a beautiful story mine might have been, if things had been different,—­if I had been different.  And at last it occurred to me that a relation of some parts of it might be useful reading for young men; also, that it might cause our whole class to be more kindly looked upon.