and fixed a purpose; if it was the guide which, leaving by-paths and cross-cuts, got into the plain straight road and said to the wandering hosts "Come on!"-we ought to know it.

Previous to that time how did the troops or the people know officially what they were fighting for? Who had said that the time for compromise had passed, and that under no circumstances would the colonies remain subject to Great Britain?

Private individuals might clamor for the Independent State, but how could the soldier, or the average citizen, know what Congress would do? Suppose England should back down, should withdraw her troops, and grant every demand, redress every grievance-would peace be made, leaving the subject colonies still subject?

These were the issues, and from these sources had arisen divided counsels, confused purposes, and plans.

And it was just here that the Declaration of Independence was supremely important. It settled the debate, removed the doubt, fixed the resolution. It burned the bridge, it crossed the dead-line, it took the route toward that bourne from which no rebel returns, save with a rope around his neck.

The Declaration of Independence was not a mere matter of course giving satisfaction and that alone; it was a call to nationality, a watch-word, a

rallying-point, its official statement of ultimate aim and object becoming the pillar of fire which led the people through the darkest nights of their dread journey toward the Republic.

In South Carolina the Declaration was received with the "greatest joy"; "the President (John Rutledge), accompanied by all the officers, civil and military, making a grand procession in honor of the event." 1

Yet South Carolina's delegation in the Congress had only yielded approval to the Declaration at the last moment.

In Georgia, whose delegation had stood with Virginia's from the first, the Declaration was hailed with delight in every parish.

No sooner did the messenger of Congress reach President Bulloch with a copy than the Provincial Council was called together, the document read, and "rapturously applauded."

The President and Council went in procession to the public square, where a great concourse of citizens had gathered and the military was under arms. The Declaration of Independence was again read, amid acclamations; and a military salute was fired. Then a formal procession of all the public bodies and of the military was formed, and there was a grand march to the liberty-pole, and the Declaration was read a third time. The artillery Edward McCrady, LL. D., in History of South Carolina.

1

fired thirteen volleys, and the small arms were again heard.

Then President Bulloch marched the entire multitude to the battery, at the Trustees' Garden, where the Declaration was again read, and another salute fired from the siege-guns planted at that point.

This begins to look like enthusiasm.

Then there was a banquet, a military feast under the cedar-trees, and much hilarious drinking of toasts.

That night Savannah blazed with the light of universal illumination.

There was a monster funeral procession, with military in line, and muffled drums; George III was buried in effigy, and a mock service read over his grave.1

In all the Southern States, in New England, in the North, and as much of the West as then existed, the fervid outbursts of feeling were just the

same.

Emphatically, Mr. Lodge's summary is too cold. 1 History of Georgia, C. C. Jones, Jr.

CHAPTER XIV

JEFFERSON IN VIRGINIA

FRENCH statesmen eagerly watched what was going on across the Atlantic. In the revolt of England's colonies they saw an opportunity to strike a blow at the ancient enemy.

Still, caution was necessary. Consequently, the first advances which were made to the colonies by France were made through an envoy, who bore no credentials, had no official status, and moved about Philadelphia with an air of mystery and reserve. Attracting attention to himself by vague hints and non-committal messages, this envoy, De Bonvouloir by name, "an elderly lame man" having the "appearance of an old wounded French officer," at length got himself before a congressional committee, where, refusing to show any credentials, he assured the members that the King of France was their friend, and that money, arms, and ammunition should be furnished the colonies.

Congress appointed a secret committee to correspond with friends of America in foreign lands. Not many months rolled by before the money of the French people was passing, by way of Beaumarchais, into the hands of the needy Americans.

Silas Deane was sent over, as secret agent, to procure military supplies; but, after independence was declared, Congress decided to appoint a formal commission to negotiate treaties with France. As one of these ministers Mr. Jefferson was chosen, the other two being Benjamin Franklin and Silas Deane.

But in the meantime Mr. Jefferson had resigned his seat in Congress, had gone home, and had been elected to the Virginia Legislature.

The temptation to accept the appointment as Minister to France was great, and he hesitated. After keeping the messenger of Congress waiting several days, he declined the position. He preferred to serve in the Virginia Legislature, where the opportunity was golden to accomplish a vast work of democratic reform.

Under the Old Order in Virginia, the main props of British aristocracy had been deeply planted. The union of Church and State; the right of the oldest son to inherit the whole estate of the father; the law of entails, which kept the lands in the family, in spite of debts of the heir, or the heir's own wish to sell-each of these antidemocratic principles was in full force in Virginia.

In law, it was a crime not to baptize children into the Episcopal Church; a crime to bring a Quaker into the colony; a crime for Quakers to assemble.