great proprietors to resist every encroachment from England. In no province was the very near approach of independence discerned so clearly, or so openly predicted. New York had been settled under large patents of lands to individuals; New England under grants to towns; and the institution of towns was its glory and its strength. The inhabited part of Massachusetts was recognized as divided into little territories, each of which, for its internal purposes, constituted an integral government, free from supervision; having power to choose annually its own officers; to hold meetings of all freemen at its pleasure; to discuss in those meetings any subject of public interest; to see that every able-bodied man within its precincts was enrolled in the militia and provided with arms, ready for immediate use; to elect and to instruct its representatives; to raise and appropriate money for the support of the ministry, of schools, of highways, of the poor, and for defraying other necessary expenses within the town. It was incessantly deplored, by royalists of later days, that the law which confirmed these liberties had received the unreflecting sanction of William III., and the most extensive interpretation in practice. Boston, on more than one occasion, ventured in town meeting to appoint its own agent to present a remonstrance to the board of trade. New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Maine, which was a part of Massachusetts, had similar regulations; so that all New England was an aggregate of organized democracies. But the complete development of the institution was to be found in Connecticut and the Massachusetts bay. There each township was substantially a territorial parish; the town was the religious congregation; the independent church was established by law; the minister was elected by the people, who annually made grants for his support. There the system of free schools was carried to such perfection that an adult born in New England and unable to write and read could not be found. He that will understand the political character of New England in the eighteenth century must study the constitution of its towns, its congregations, its schools, and its militia. Yet in these democracies the hope of independence, as a near event, had not dawned; the inhabitants still clung with persevering affection to the land of their ancestry and their language. They were of homogeneous origin, nearly all tracing their descent to English emigrants of the reigns of Charles I. and Charles II. They were frugal and industrious. Along the seaside, wherever there was a good harbor, fishermen, familiar with the ocean, gathered in hamlets; and each returning season saw them, with an ever-increasing number of mariners and vessels, taking the cod and mackerel, and sometimes pursuing the whale into the northern seas. At Boston a society was formed for promoting domestic manufactures: on one of its anniversaries, three hundred young women appeared on the Common, clad in homespun, seated in a triple row, each with a spinning wheel, and each busily transferring the flax from the distaff to the spool. The town built "a manufacturing house," and there were bounties to encourage the workers in linen. How the board of trade were alarmed at the news! How they censured Shirley for not having frowned on the business! How committees of the House of Commons examined witnesses, and made proposals for prohibitory laws, till the Boston manufacturing house, designed to foster home industry, fell into decay! Of slavery there was not enough to affect the character of the people, except in the southeast of Rhode Island, where Newport was conspicuous for engaging in the slave trade, and where, in two or three towns, negroes composed even a third of the inhabitants. In the settlements which grew up in the interior, on the margin of the greenwood, the plain meetinghouse of the congregation for public worship was everywhere the central point; near it stood the public school. The snug farmhouses, owned as freeholds, without quitrents, were dotted along the way. In every hand was the Bible; every home was a house of prayer; all had been taught, many had comprehended, a methodical theory of the divine purpose in creation, and of the destiny of man. God is the absolute sovereign, doing according to his will in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants on earth. Scorning the thought of free agency as breaking the universe of action into countless fragments, the greatest number in New England held that very volition, even of the humblest of the people, is obedient to the fixed decrees of Providence, and participates in eternity. Yet, while the common mind of New England was inspired by the great thought of the sole sovereignty of God, it did not lose personality and human freedom in pantheistic fatalism. Like Augustine, who made war both on Manicheans and Pelagians; like the Stoics, whose morals it most nearly resembled, it asserted by just dialectics, or, as some would say, by a sublime inconsistency, the power of the individual will. In every action it beheld the union of the motive and volition. The action, it saw, was according to the strongest motive; and it knew that what proves the strongest motive depends on the character of the will. The Calvinist of New England, who longed to be "morally good and excellent," had, therefore, no other object of moral effort than to make "the will truly lovely and right." Action, therefore, as flowing from an energetic, right, and lovely will, was the ideal of New England. It rejected the asceticism of one-sided spiritualists, and fostered the whole man, seeking to perfect his intelligence and improve his outward condition. It saw in every one the divine and the human nature. It subjected but did not extirpate the inferior principles. It placed no merit in vows of poverty or celibacy, and spurned the thought of non-resistance. In a good cause its people were ready to take up arms and fight, cheered by the conviction that God was working in them both to will and to do. THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. BY WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE. [1819-1881.] He lay upon his dying bed, His eye was growing dim, When, with a feeble voice, he called His weeping son to him: "Weep not, my boy," the veteran said, But quickly from yon antlers bring, The sword was brought; the soldier's eye And, as he grasped the ancient blade, Then said, "My boy, I leave you gold, I leave you, mark me, mark me, now, ""Twas on that dread, immortal day, A captain raised his blade on me, I tore it from his hand; And while the glorious battle raged, For, boy, the God of Freedom blessed "Oh! keep this sword," his accents broke, A smile, and he was dead; But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade, The sun remains, the sword remains, Its glory growing still, And twenty millions bless the sire ADDRESS OF PATRICK HENRY BEFORE THE CONVENTION OF DELEGATES, MARCH 28, 1775. [PATRICK HENRY, American statesman and orator, was born at Studley, Hanover County, Va., May 29, 1736. Having failed utterly in farming and trade, he became a lawyer, and first brought himself into notice by his pleading in a case respecting the legal income of the clergy. He vigorously opposed the Stamp Act in the Virginia House of Burgesses (1765), and in the Continental Congress (1774) opened the proceedings with a speech in which he declared "I am not a Virginian, but an American." He was several times governor of his native state, retired into private life in 1791, and died at Red Hill, Charlotte County, Va., June 6, 1799.] MR. PRESIDENT,- No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope that it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the majesty of heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings. Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst and to provide for it. I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with these warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motives for it? Has |