admittance except on business." In time he reaches the goal of his hopes;
but now insulted Nature begins to claim her revenge. That which was once
unnatural is now natural to him. The enforced constraint has become a rigid
deformity. The spring of his mind is broken. He can no longer lift his mind
from the ground. Books and knowledge and wise discourse, and the amenities
of it, and the cordial of friendship, are like words in a strange tongue.
To the hard, smooth surface of his soul, nothing genial, graceful, or
winning will cling; he cannot even purge his voice of its fawning tone, or
pluck from his face the mean, money-getting mask which the child does not
look at without ceasing to smile. Amid the graces and ornaments of wealths,
he is like a blind man in a picture-gallery. That which he has done he must
continue to do. He must accumulate riches which he cannot enjoy and
contemplate the dreary prospect of growing old without anything to make age
venerable or attractive; for age without wisdom and without knowledge is
the winter's cold without the winter's fire
G. S. Hillard.


XXX.

SPEECH OF PATRICK HENRY, IN THE CONVENTION OF DELEGATES OF VIRGINIA, MARCH,
1775.

Mr. President, It is natural for 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 the 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