, as an
established social custom, disappeared in most of the places where it
had formerly been so much practised. The Sons of Liberty, retaining the
semblance of an organization, were rarely in the public eye save at
the annual celebrations of the repeal of the Stamp Act, quite harmless
occasions devoted to the expression of patriotic sentiments. Merchants
and landowners, again prosperous, were content to fall back into
accustomed habits of life, conscious of duty done without too much
stress, readily believing their liberties finally vindicated against
encroachments from abroad and their privileges secure against
unwarranted and dangerous pretensions at home. "The people appear to be
weary of their altercations with the mother country," Mr. Johnson, the
Connecticut agent, wrote to Wedderburn, in October, 1771; "a little
discreet conduct on both sides would perfectly reestablish that warm
affection and respect towards Great Britain for which this country was
once remarkable."

Discreet conduct was nowhere more necessary than in Massachusetts, where
the people, perhaps because they were much accustomed to them, grew
weary of altercations less easily than in most colonies. Yet even in
Massachusetts there was a marked waning of enthusiasm after the high
excitement occasioned by the Boston Massacre, a certain disintegration
of the patriot party. James Otis recovered from a temporary fit of
insanity only to grow strangely suspicious of Samuel Adams. Mr. Hancock,
discreetly holding his peace, attended to his many thriving and very
profitable business ventures. John Adams, somewhat unpopular for having
defended and procured the acquittal of the soldiers implicated in the
Massacre, retired in high dudgeon from public affairs to the practice
of his profession; in high dudgeon with everyone concerned--with himself
first of all, and with the people who so easily forgot their interests
and those who had, served them, and with the British Government and all
fawning tools of ministers, of whom Mr. Thomas Hutchinson was chief.
Meanwhile, Mr. Hutchinson, so roughly handled in the secret diary of the
rising young lawyer, was the recipient of new honors, having been made
Governor of the province to succeed Francis Bernard. For once finding
himself almost popular, he thought he perceived a disposition in all
the colonies, and even in Massachusetts, to let the controversy subside.
"Though there are a small majority sour enough, yet when t