very decided in meaning.
The last of them declared that nobody but the Burgesses had the right to
tax Virginians. This statement roused the house. It sounded like
rebellion against the king. Several speakers rose together and all of
them denounced the resolutions as injudicious and impertinent. The
excitement of the loyalists grew as they proceeded, but they subsided
into silence when the man who had offered the resolutions rose to defend
them.

Patrick Henry was aroused. As he spoke his figure grew straight and
erect, his voice loud and resonant, his eye flashed, the very sweep of
his hand was full of force and power. He for one was not prepared to
become a slave to England and her king. He denounced the islanders who
proposed to rob Americans of their vested rights. In what way was an
Englishman better than a Virginian? he asked. Were they not of one blood
and born with the same right to liberty and justice? What right had the
Parliament to act the tyrant to the colonies? Then, referring to the
king, he bade him in thundering tones to beware of the consequences of
his acts.

"Caesar had his Brutus," he exclaimed, in tones of thrilling force,
"Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third----"

"Treason! Treason!" came from a dozen excited voices, but Henry did not
flinch.

"May profit by their example." Then, in a quieter tone, he added: "If
this be treason, make the most of it!"

[Illustration: ST. JOHN'S CHURCH.]

He took his seat. He had said his words. These words still roll down the
tide of American history as resonantly as when they were spoken. As for
the House of Burgesses, it was carried away by the strength of this
wonderful speech. When the resolutions came to a vote it was seen that
Henry had won. They were carried, even the last and most daring of them,
by one vote majority. As the Burgesses tumultuously adjourned, one
member rushed out in great excitement, declaring that he would have
given five hundred guineas for one vote to defeat the treasonable
resolutions. But the people with delight heard of what had passed, and
as Henry passed through the crowd a plain countryman clapped him on the
shoulder, exclaiming,--

"Stick to us, old fellow, or we are gone."

Ten years later, in the old church of St. John's, at Richmond, Virginia,
standing not far from the spot where the old Indian emperor, Powhatan,
once resided, a convention was assembled to decide on the state of the
country. Rebellion