words he had made
to stand for the great idea of his own life; the words with which he
had cheered and soothed and sustained and encouraged many weaker men
who had looked to his iron soul for help and guidance. They were the
words to which many a patriot like him, now lying mute and cold upon
the hills about Boston, under the trees at Long Island, by the flowing
waters and frowning cliffs of the Hudson, on the verdant glacis at
Quebec, 'neath the smooth surface of Lake Champlain, in the dim
northern woods, on the historic field of Princeton, or within the still
depths of this mighty sea now tossing them upon its bosom, had given
most eloquent expression and final attestation. What were they?

"For--for--love--of--country." The once mighty voice died away in a
feeble whisper; a child might still the faintly beating heart. The
mighty chest--rose--fell; the old man lay still. Love of
country,--that was his passion, you understand.

Love of country! That was the great refrain. The wind roared the song
through the pines, on the snow-clad mountains in the far north, sobbed
it softly through the rustling palmetto branches in the south-land, or
breathed it in whispers over the leaves of the oak and elm and laurel,
between. The waves crashed it in tremendous chorus on rock-bound
shores, or rolled it with tender caress over shining sands. Under its
inspiration, mighty men left all and marched forth to battle; wooed by
its subtle music, hero women bore the long hours of absence and
suspense; and in its tender harmonies the little children were rocked
to sleep. Ay, love of country! All the voices of man and nature in a
continent caught it up and breathed it forth, hurled it in mighty
diapason far up into God's heaven. Love of country! It was indeed a
mighty truth. They preached it, loved it, lived for it, died for it,
till at last it made them free!

CHAPTER XXXVIII

_Philip Disobeys Orders_

"Who is this, pray?" said Captain Vincent, at this moment stepping back
to the silent little group.

"The boatswain of the Randolph," replied the colonel. "He has just
died."

"Poor fellow! but there are many other brave men gone this day. What
think you was the complement of the frigate, colonel?"

"Over three hundred men certainly," replied the colonel (the actual
number was three hundred and fifteen). "Most of them not already done
for were lost in the explosion, I presume?"

"Yes, assuredly; and now I owe