culty they protected him from being torn to pieces by
the infuriated people. His name was Francis Ravaillac. According to
the savage custom of the times, he was subsequently put to death with
the most frightful tortures.

The lifeless body of the king was immediately taken to the Tuileries
and placed upon a bed. Surgeons and physicians hurried to the room
only to gaze upon his corpse. No language can depict the grief and
despair of France at his death. He had won the love of the whole
nation, and, to the present day, no one hears the name of Henry the
Fourth mentioned in France but with affection. He was truly the father
of his people. All conditions, employments, and professions were
embraced in his comprehensive regard. He spared no toil to make France
a happy land. He was a man of genius and of instinctive magnanimity.
In conversation he had no rival. His profound and witty sayings which
have been transmitted to us are sufficient to form a volume. His one
great and almost only fault sadly tarnishes his otherwise fair and
honorable fame.

In Henry commenced the reign of the house of Bourbon. For nearly two
hundred years the family retained the crown. It is now expelled, and
the members are wandering in exile through foreign lands.

There is one great truth which this narrative enforces: it is the
doctrine of _freedom of conscience_. It was the denial of this simple
truth which deluged France in blood and woe. The recognition of this
one sentiment would have saved for France hundreds of thousands of
lives, and millions of treasure. Let us take warning. We need it.

Let us emblazon upon our banner the noble words, "_Toleration--perfect
civil and religious toleration_." But Toleration is not a slave. It is
a spirit of light and of liberty. It has much to give, but it has just
as much to demand. It bears the olive-branch in one hand, and the
gleaming sword in the other. I grant _to you_, it says, perfect
liberty of opinion and of expression, and I demand _of you_ the same.

Let us then inscribe upon the arch which spans our glorious Union,
making us one in its celestial embrace, "_Freedom of speech, freedom
of the press, and free men_."

Then shall that arch beam upon us like God's bow of promise in the
cloud, proclaiming that this land shall never be deluged by the surges
of civil war--that it never shall be inundated by flames and blood.

The human mind is now so roused that it will have this liberty; and if
the