Johnson never heard the Indians’ rejoinder. A few minutes after the conclusion he was taken with relapse. Supported to his library, he soon became unconscious, and before sunset was dead.
It was euthanasia. Past all call to decide between Indian tribe and tribe, between white murderers and red, between serving conscience and king, between following the colonies for freedom under law or supporting arbitrary despotism under the fiction of power by the grace of God, Johnson rested from his labours. He was one of the Makers of America, building grander than he knew. His place in history is sure. Had he lived a decade later!—but here we enter the region of conjecture, the ground forbidden to history.
INDEX.
Abercrombie, General, [68], [152]-[155], [168]-[171].
Albany, [13], [28]-[30], [68], [70], [79], [114], [127]-[131].
Albany County, [216].
Algonkin Indians, [38].