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 brutal British ministry for the past ten years to
justify the hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace
themselves and the house.

"Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced
violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded, and we
have been spurned with contempt from the foot of the throne.

"The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone, it is to the vigilant,
the active, the brave. Our chains are forged; their clanking may be
heard on the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable; and let it come.
I repeat it, let it come.

"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 by 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!"

The patriotism of the cavaliers of Virginia was fermenting to overflowing,
while that of the Puritans of Massachusetts was boiling with intense heat
as the stamp-stampers and tea-tossers of Boston prepared for a deadly
reception to the robbers and murders of King George on the plains of
Lexington and Concord on the 19th of April, 1775.

Never can I forget the midnight ride I took with

PAUL REVERE,

on beholding the two lanterns displayed on the belfry of the "Old North
Church"; I told the tale to Mr. Longfellow, and he forthwith immortalized
the heroic Paul:

_"A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light
The fate of a nation was riding that night,
And the spark struck out by that steed in his flight
Kindled the land into flame with its heat._

_"You know the rest, in the books you have read,
How the British regulars fired and fled--
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm yard wall,
Chasing the 'Red Coats' down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again,
Under the trees at the turn of the roa