eat adjuster, will give Ingersoll his due. The history
of America's thought evolution can never be written and the name of
Ingersoll left out. In his own splendid personality he had no rivals, no
competitors. He stands alone; and no name in liberal thought can ever
eclipse his. He prepared the way for the thinkers and the doers who
shall come after, and in insight surpass him, reaching spiritual heights
which he, perhaps, could never attain.

This earth is a better place, and life and liberty are safer, because
Robert G. Ingersoll lived.

The last words of Ingersoll were, by a strange coincidence, the dying
words of his brother Ebon: "I am better!"--words of hope, words of
assurance to the woman he loved.

Sane to the last! And let us, too, hope that these dear words are true
of all the countless dead.

PATRICK HENRY

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry,
Peace, peace; but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The
next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the
clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are already in the field.
Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would
they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased
at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!--I
know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me
liberty or give me death!

--_Patrick Henry_

[Illustration: PATRICK HENRY]

Sarah Syme was a blooming widow, thirty-two in June--such widows are
never over thirty-two--and she managed her estate of a thousand acres in
Hanover County, Virginia, with business ability. That such a widow, and
thirty-two, should remain a widow in a pioneer country was out of the
question.

She had suitors. Their horses were tied to the pickets all day long.

One of these suitors has described the widow for us. He says she was
"lively in disposition," and he also uses the words "buxom" and
"portly." I do not like these expressions--they suggest too much, so I
will none of them. I would rather refer to her as lissome and willowy,
and tell how her sorrow for the dead wrapped her 'round with weeds and
becoming sable--but in the interests of truth I dare not.

Some of her suitors were widowers--ancient of days, fat and Falstaffian.
Others were lean and lacrimose, with large families, fortunes impaired
and f