been writ in water. The
reputation of the man hinges on the fact that he defied authority.

The first great speech of Patrick Henry was a defiance of the Common Law
of England when it got in the way of the rights of the people. Every
immortal speech ever given has been an appeal from the law of man to the
Higher Law.

Patrick Henry was twenty-seven--the same age that Wendell Phillips was
when he discovered himself. No one had guessed the genius of the
man--least of all his parents. He himself did not know his power. The
years that had gone had been fallow years--years of failure--but it was
all a getting together of his forces for the spring. Relaxation is the
first requisite of strength.

The case was a forlorn hope, and Patrick Henry, the awkward but clever
country pettifogger, was retained to defend the "Parsons' Cause,"
because he had opinions in the matter and no reputation to lose.

First, let it be known that Virginia had an Established Church, which
was really the Church of England. The towns were called parishes, and
the selectmen, or supervisors, were vestrymen. These vestrymen hired the
rectors or preachers, and the money which paid the preachers came from
taxes levied on the people.

Now, the standard of value in Virginia was tobacco, and the vestrymen,
instead of paying the parsons in money, agreed to pay each parson
sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco, with curates and bishops in
proportion.

But there came a bad year; the tobacco-crop was ruined by a drought, and
the value of the weed doubled in price.

The parsons demanded their tobacco; a bargain was a bargain; when
tobacco was plentiful and cheap they had taken their quota and said
nothing. Now that tobacco was scarce and high, things were merely
equalized; a contract was a contract.

But the people complained. The theme was discussed in every tavern and
store. There were not wanting infidels to say that the parsons should
have prayed for rain, and that as they did not secure the moisture, they
were remiss. Others asked by what right shall men who do not labor
demand a portion of the crop from those who plant, hoe and harvest?

Of course, all good Church people, all of the really loyal citizens,
argued that the Parsons were a necessary part of the State--without them
Society would sink into savagery--and as they did their duties, they
should be paid by the people; they served, and all contracts made with
them should be kept.

But the mutte