The next day Benjamin Franklin, then in London, wrote to his friend, Charles Thompson: “The sun of liberty is set; you must light the candles of industry and economy.” “The torches we shall light,” was the reply, “shall be of quite another kind.”
Petitions and memorials were addressed to Parliament, the mild and conciliatory tones of which but faintly reflected the ferment and excitement in the colonies. An association sprang suddenly into existence under the name of “Sons of Liberty,” whose special object seemed to be the intimidation of the stamp officers. In all the colonies the officers were compelled or persuaded to resign, and the stamps that arrived were either left unpacked or were seized and burned. Resolutions were passed to import no more goods from England until the Stamp Act was repealed.
A change in the British ministry now took place, and, in spite of opposition, the bill was repealed. This was done on the ground of expediency only, and it was soon made evident that little had been gained to the colonies. The Stamp Act was gone, but the Declaratory Act, the Sugar Act, the Mutiny Act—requiring the colonists to provide quarters for English troops—remained. The project of taxing the American colonies was by no means relinquished. Duties were imposed on paper, glass, painters’ colors, and tea. A large number of British officers were stationed in Boston to enforce the payment of these duties. Riots followed, and throughout the colonies the greatest indignation and excitement prevailed. The British