lay in his close intimacy with Nature--he knew her and was so
a part of her that he never thought of her, any more than the fishes
think of the sea. The continual dwelling on a subject proves our
ignorance of it--we discuss only that for which we are reaching out.

Then, Patrick Henry knew men--he knew the workers, the toilers, the
young, the old, the learned and the ignorant. He had mingled with
mankind from behind the counter, the tavern-bar, in court and school
and in church--by the roadside, at horse-races, camp-meetings, dances
and social gatherings. He was light of foot, ready of tongue, and with
no thought as to respectability, and no doubts and fears regarding the
bread-and-butter question. He had no pride, save possibly a pride in the
fact that he had none. He played checkers, worked out mathematical
problems in his mind to astonish the loafers, related history to
instruct them--and get it straight in his own mind--and told them
stories to make them laugh. It is a great misfortune to associate only
with cultured people. "God loves the common people," said Lincoln,
"otherwise He would not have made so many of them." Patrick Henry knew
them; and is not this an education--to know Life?

He knew he could move men; that he could mold their thoughts; that he
could convince them and bring them over to his own way of thinking. He
had done it by the hour. In the continual rural litigations, he had
watched lawyers make their appeal to the jury; he had sat on these
juries, and he knew he could do the trick better. Therefore, he wanted
to become a lawyer.

The practise of law to him was to convince, befog or divert the jury; he
could do it, and so he applied for permission to practise law.

He was successful from the first. His clownish ways pleased the judge,
the jury and the spectators. His ready tongue and infinite good humor
made him a favorite. There may not be much law in Justice-of-the-Peace
proceedings, but there is a certain rude equity which possibly answers
the purpose better. And surely it is good practise for the fledglings:
the best way to learn law is to practise it. And the successful practise
of the law lies almost as much in evading the law as in complying with
it--I suppose we should say that softly, too. In support of the last
proposition, let me say that we are dealing with P. Henry, Junior, of
Virginia, arch-rebel, and a defier of law and precedent. Had he
reverenced law as law, his name would have