The most active commerce had been that of the West Indies. But with peace a wider field was opened, and ships sent directly to the East Indies. Raw material of various kinds was sent to Europe, and European manufactures brought back in return. It was soon evident that the new State would profit England more by equal commerce than by dependence. Yet it was not all at once that the financial errors of the Revolution could be repaired, or the bitterness engendered by civil war assuaged. A deep rooted hostility to England had taken hold of many minds, to bear its fruits when republican France claimed sympathy as a sister republic. We have already registered the birth of manufactures. Circumstances favored their growth and prepared the way for a development which has made the smallest one of the richest states of the Union. A great river runs through it, widening at its mouth into a spacious bay. Deep ponds of pure water dot its surface, and limpid streamlets which swell with every rain send from every upland their tributes to the bay. How should these waters be subjected to the will of man? Samuel Slater, a native of Derbyshire, had served an apprenticeship to Jedediah Strutt, the partner of Arkwright, and learned the secret of the new method of spinning cotton. Heavy penalties were affixed to the exportation of the new machinery. But Slater had made himself master of the theory as well as the practice of the art, and seems to have been casting about him for a way of turning his knowledge to account, when he learned that the State of Pennsylvania had offered a bounty for the introduction of it. Thus American manufactures owe their birth to protection. The story was a simple one. Slater came to America bringing the secret with him. In Moses Brown, of Providence, he found a judicious counselor, in William Almy and Smith Brown enterprising capitalists. On the 21st of December, 1790, and on the Pawtucket River, the first factory went into operation. On that day and by the hand of Samuel Slater, the destiny of Rhode Island was decided. In these days of mingled hope and fear, on the 19th of July, 1785, closed the long and useful career of Stephen Hopkins, whose name is closely interwoven with all that is greatest and best in Rhode Island history; an astronomer of no mean pretensions, a statesman of broad views and deep penetration, a supreme executive, prompt, energetic and fearless, a genial companion when wise men relax from care, and a trusty counselor when the duties of life bear heaviest on the scrupulous conscience. The tranquil growth of manufactures affords few materials for general history, in which it appears by its results rather than by its processes. Statistics take the place of narrative, and except in controlling and inventive minds the story of man himself is the story of a machine.