they should be. Tell me what has become of liberty if you cannot buy a
ship where you can get her best and cheapest, and hoist your own flag upon
her, and call her your own? You may pay for her and bring her home with
you, but though she were ten times paid for, you cannot hoist the American
flag, nor register her in your own port, nor claim the protection of your
country for your own property--because, forsooth, the ship was not built
on American stocks, where she would cost three times her value, and put a
job into the hands of a set of builders of river steamboats and harbor
mudscows."

Loud murmurs ran through the audience, and cries of "That's so!" and
counter cries of "Freetrader!" were heard on all sides. John's great voice
rang out like a trumpet. He knew the sensitiveness of his townsmen on the
point.

"I am not speaking against protection," he said, and at the magic word
"protection" a dead silence again fell over the vast crowd. "I say to you,
'Protect!' Protect, all of you, merchants, tradesmen, the great body of
the commerce of this country; protect whatever you all decide together
needs protection. But by the greatness and the power you have, by the
Heaven that gave us this land of ours to till and to enjoy, protect also
yourselves and your liberties."

A patriotic phrase in the mouth of a man who has the golden gift of
speech, coupled with the statement of a principle popular with his
audience, is a sure point in an oration. Something in John's tone and
gesture touched the sympathetic chord, and the house broke out in a great
cry of applause.

An orator cannot always talk in strict logical sequence. He must search