But the minds of the British monarch and his ministers were not to be influenced either by the remonstrances and pleadings of the colonies or their agents in London, or of their few friends in parliament. Grenville, the minister, according to pre-arrangement, brought in his bill for collecting a stamp-tax in America, and it passed the House of Commons five to one, and in the House of Lords there was neither division on the subject nor the slightest opposition. This act was to come into operation on the 1st day of November of the same year. It was on the occasion of its discussion in the House of Commons, that Colonel Barre, who had fought with Wolfe at Louisburg and Quebec, electrified the house with his burst of eloquence in reply to one of the ministers who spoke of the colonists as “children planted by our care, nourished by our indulgence, and protected by our arms.” “They planted by your care!” retorted Barre. “No; your oppression planted them in America. They nourished by your indulgence! They grew up by your neglect of them. They protected by your arms! Those sons of liberty have nobly taken up arms in your defence. I claim to know more of America than most of you, having been conversant in that country. The people, I believe, are as truly loyal subjects as the king has, but a people jealous of their liberties, and who will vindicate them should they ever be violated.” The day after the Stamp Act had passed the house, Benjamin Franklin, then in London as agent for Philadelphia, wrote the news to his friend, Charles Thompson. “The sun of liberty,” said he, “is set; you must light up the candles of industry and economy.” “We shall light up torches of quite another kind,” was the reply. Anticipating opposition to this unpopular measure, a new clause was introduced in the Mutiny Act, authorising the sending of any number of troops into the colonies, which, by an especial enactment, were to be found with “quarters, fire-wood, bedding, drink, soap and candles,” by the colonists. The news of the passage of the Stamp Act called forth a universal burst of indignation. At Boston and Philadelphia the bells were muffled, and rung a funeral peal; at New York the act was carried through the streets with a death’s head affixed to it, and labelled, “The folly of England and the ruin of America.”[12]