In truth there was already between the government of George III. and the colonies something besides a constitutional and financial question. The Americans were no longer simple subjects of the metropolis, merely struggling against such an abuse of power or such a violation of right. It was one people aroused against the oppression of another people, whatever might be the form or the name of that oppression. Still attached to the mother country by the ties of a secular fidelity, and ardently refraining from all aspirations towards independence, they were still dominated by a supreme sentiment--love for the American country, for its grandeur, its liberty, its force. "You are taught to believe that the people of Massachusetts is a rebel people, uprisen for independence," wrote Washington as late as the 9th of October, 1774. "Permit me to tell you, my good friend, that you are deceived, grossly deceived. I can assure you, as a matter of fact, that independence is neither the desire nor the interest of that colony, nor of any other on the continent, separately or collectively. But at the same time you may be sure that not one of them will ever submit to the loss of those privileges, of those precious rights which are essential to every free state, and without which liberty, property, and life are deprived of all security." America did not fall below her destiny. "From 1767 to 1774," says Cornelis de Witt, in his history of Washington, "there were formed everywhere patriotic leagues against the consumption of English merchandise and the exportation of American products. All exchange between the metropolis and the colonies ceased. In order to drain the sources of England's riches in America, and to constrain it to open its eyes to its folly, the colonists recoiled before no privation and no sacrifice. Luxury had disappeared. Rich and poor accepted ruin rather than abandon their political rights." "I expect nothing more from the petitions to the king," said Washington, already one of the firmest champions of American liberties, "and I should oppose them if they were to suspend the non-importation agreement. {273} As sure as I live, there is no alleviation to be expected for us except from the distress of Great Britain. I think, or at least I hope, that we retain sufficient public virtue to refuse everything except the necessities of life in order to obtain justice. That we have the right to do, and no power on earth can force us to alter our conduct before it has reduced us to the most abject slavery." ... And he added, with a stern sense of justice, "As to the non-importation agreement, that is another thing. I admit that I have my doubts as to its legitimacy. We owe considerable sums to Great Britain. We can only pay them with our products. In order to have the right to accuse others of injustice we must be just ourselves; and how could we be so while refusing Great Britain to pay our debts? That is beyond my conception."