The time for hesitation was past. Event came crowding upon event. Virginia, also, called for a Congress. But it was on Boston chiefly that all eyes were fixed. Her example had strengthened the hands of the discontented, and both the King and his Parliament had resolved to make her a warning example of royal indignation. For this the bill closing her port and cutting off her commerce and known in history as the Boston Port Bill was passed. It was to go into operation the 1st of June, 1774. Never did a great wrong awaken a more universal resentment. Old jealousies and rivalries were forgotten in the sense of a common danger. On the 1st of June the voice of mourning and commiseration was heard throughout the land. Virginia set it apart as a day of fasting and prayers. From every Colony came contributions in sheep and oxen and money. Rhode Island sent eight hundred and sixty sheep, thirteen oxen, four hundred and seventeen pounds in money. Boston in this day of suffering was for her no longer the Boston of the Atherton Company and disputed boundary lines. But intelligent as Rhode Island had proved herself in her political measures, she could not altogether raise herself above the ignorance of her age in sanitary measures. The small-pox was in Newport, and inoculation was still an undecided question. Should the legislature be asked to declare for it or against it? After four days of discussion it was decided in the negative by a close vote. We have already seen that a special tribunal had been organized to follow up the question of the Gaspee. In its instructions directions were given to send their prisoners to England for trial. Hutchinson, the renegade Governor of Massachusetts, proposed to annul the charter of Rhode Island. The committee applied to Samuel Adams for counsel. "An attack upon the liberties of one colony," was his answer, "is an attack upon the liberties of all." The new year, the eventful 1773, began amid anxious doubts and firm resolves. The Assembly was sitting at East Greenwich, the Gaspee court at Newport. "What shall I do?" asked Chief-Justice Hopkins. The Assembly bade him follow his own judgment. "Then for the purpose of transportation for trial," said the brave old man, "I will neither apprehend any person by my own order nor suffer any executive officers in the Colony to do it." The question fortunately never rose, but questions equally important were at hand. The burning of the Gaspee was a sudden outbreak of popular indignation. To thoughtful minds it was a still more alarming indication of popular feeling that the senior officer on the station, Captain Keeler, of the Mercury, should have been seized and verdicts of trespass and trover found against him in the colonial courts. But England did not heed the warning.