ad
him so hopelessly entangled that there was no escape for him. On the
anniversary of the Boston massacre, he persuaded Hancock to deliver a
revolutionary speech, which he had himself prepared, and after that
there was a British order out for Hancock's arrest; Adams contrived that
Hancock should be one of the three delegates from Massachusetts to the
Continental Congress--John and Samuel Adams were the other two--and
Hancock was deeply impressed by the honor; at the second Congress, Adams
saw to it that his friend was chosen President. In consequence, Hancock
was the first signer of the Declaration of Independence, the incident
which is the best known in his career. He signed the document in great
sprawly letters, remarking grandiloquently, as he did so, "I guess King
George can read that without spectacles," and for many years, "John
Hancock" was the synonym for a bold signature. He was afterwards
governor of Massachusetts for more than a decade, and on one occasion
attempted to snub Washington, with very poor success. His body lies in
the old Granary burying-ground, only a step from that of Samuel Adams.

* * * * *

One day, while Thomas Jefferson was a student at William and Mary
College, at Williamsburg, a young friend named Patrick Henry dropped in
to see him, and announced that he had come to Williamsburg to be
admitted to the bar.

"How long have you studied law?" Jefferson inquired.

"Oh, for over six weeks," Henry answered.

The story goes that Jefferson advised his friend to go home and study
for at least a fortnight longer; but Henry declared that the only way to
learn law was to practice it, and went ahead and took the examination,
such as it was, and passed!

That was in 1760, and Patrick Henry was twenty-four years old at the
time. He had been a wild boy, cared little for books, and had failed as
a farmer and as a merchant before turning to law as a last resort. Nor
as a lawyer was he a great success, the truth being that he lacked the
industry and diligence which are essential to success in any profession;
but he had one supreme gift, that of lofty and impassioned oratory. In
1765, as a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, he made the
rafters ring and his auditors turn pale by his famous speech against the
stamp act; as a delegate to the Continental Congress in 1774, he made
the only real speech of the Congress, arousing the delegates from an
attitude of mutual