him in those topics of persuasion by which men were the most certainly to be moved, and in the kind of imagery and structure of language, which were the best fitted to strike and agitate their hearts. These constituted his excellencies as an orator; and never was there a man, in any age, who possessed, in a more eminent degree, the lucid and nervous style of argument, the command of the most beautiful and striking imagery, or that language of passion which burns from soul to soul." P. 10.

This last passage we have introduced, not more for the purpose of exhibiting Mr. Henry, than with the intention of giving a specimen of his biographer's eloquence.

At eighteen Mr. Henry married the daughter of an honest farmer, and undertook to cultivate a few acres for himself. His only delights, at this time, were those which flow from the endearing relations of conjugal life.' His 'want of agricultural skill, and his unconquerable aversion to every species of systematic labour,' terminated his career as a planter in the short space of two years. Again he had recourse to merchandise, and again failed in business. Every atom of his property was now gone, his friends were unable to assist him any further; he had tried every means of support, of which he thought himself capable, and every one had failed; ruin was behind him; poverty, debt, want, and famine before; and as if his cup of misery were not already full enough, here were a suffering wife and children to make it overflow.' Still he had a cheerful temper, and his passion was music, dancing, and pleasantry.' About this time he became fond of geography and 'historical works generally.' 'Livy was his favourite;' and Livy, in some measure awakened the dormant powers of his genius. As a last effort, he determined, of his own accord, to make a trial of the law.' This profession, he seems to have viewed in the same light in which one Wheeler did divinity, who used to say, while in college, that after he graduated, he would, if he could, become a lawyer, and sell both justice and injustice to his clients: if he could not plead law, he would turn doctor, and sell the elixir of life and death, for four-and-sixpence per bottle: but if all things else failed, he would turn a country parson, with pewter knee-buckles, and read his father's old sermons to the people. Indeed, Mr. Henry seems to have disliked the professional business of an attorney at law, as much as Mr. Wirt must, if we may judge of him, from what he says about 'the drudgery' of his office. Mr. Henry himself seems to have hoped for nothing more from the profession than a scanty subsistence for himself and his family, and his preparation was suited to these humble expectations; for to the study of a profession, which is said to require the lucubrations of twenty years; Mr. Henry devoted not more than six weeks.' On examination, he was licensed, rather through courtesy, and some expectation that he would study, than from any conviction which his examiners had of his present competence. At the age of four and twenty he was admitted to the bar; and for three years occupied the back ground;' during

which period the wants and distresses of his family were extreme; and he performed the duty of an assistant to his father-inlaw in a tavern. His introduction to celebrity his biographer has recounted, in such an enchanting manner, as to excite a doubt whether his enthusiasm has not transformed the historian into a Marmontel, and his intended portrait into a fairy picture. That Mr. Henry was a natural orator, which is an orator of the best kind; and one of the very best of this superlative genus, we must believe; but that nothing which comes from the winged pen of Wirt is emblazoned truth, we can only imagine; especially on such a subject as this, which is more congenial to his ignited emotions than any other. We quote the almost incredible account.

"About the time of Mr. Henry's coming to the bar, a controversy arose in Virginia, which gradually produced a very strong excitement, and called to it, at length, the attention of the whole state.

"This was the famous controversy between the clergy on the one hand, and the legislature and people of the colony on the other, touching the stipend claimed by the former; and as this was the occasion on which Mr Henry's genius first broke forth, those who take an interest in his life, will not be displeased by a particular account of the nature and grounds of the dispute. It will be borne in mind, that the church of England was at this period, the established church of Virginia; and, by an act of assembly passed so far back as the year 1696, each minister of a parish had been provided with an annual stipend of sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco. This act was re-enacted with amendments, in 1748, and in this form, had received the royal assent. The price of tobacco had long remained stationary at two pence in the pound, or sixteen shillings and eight pence per hundred. According to the provision of the law, the clergy had the right to demand, and were in the practice of receiving payment of their stipend, in the specific tobacco; unless they chose, for convenience, to commute it for money at the market price. In the year 1755, however, the crop of tobacco, having fallen short, the legis lature passed" an act to enable the inhabitants of this colony, to discharge their tobacco debts in money for the present year:" by the provisions of which "all persons from whom any tobacco was due, were authorized to pay the same either in tobacco, or in money, after the rate of sixteen shillings and eight pence per hundred, at the option of the debtor." This act was to continue in force for ten months and no longer, and did not contain the usual clause of suspension, until it should receive the royal assent. Whether the scarcity of tobacco was so general and so notorious, as to render this act a measure of obvious humanity and necessity, or whether the clergy were satisfied by its generality, since it embraced sheriffs, clerks, attornies, and all other tobacco creditors, as well as themselves, or whether they acquiesced in it as a temporary expedient, which they supposed not likely to be repeated, it is certain that no objection was made to the law at that time. They could not indeed, have helped observing the benefits which the rich planters derived from the act; for they were receiving from fifty to sixty shillings per hundred for their tobacco, while they paid off their debts, due in that article, at the old price of sixteen shillings and eight pence. Nothing, however, was then said in defence either of the royal prerogative, or of the rights of the clergy, but the law was permitted to go peaceably

through its ten months operation. The great tobacco planters had not forgotten the fruits of this act, when, in the year 1758, upon a surmise that another short crop was likely to occur, the provisions of the act of 1755 were re-enacted, and the new law, like the former, contained no suspending clause. The crop, as had been anticipated, did fall short, and the price of tobacco rose immediately from sixteen and eight pence to fifty shillings per hundred. The clergy now took the alarm, and the act was assailed by an indignant, sarcastic, and vigorous pamphlet, entitled "The Two-Penny Act," from the pen of the Rev. John Camm, the rector of York-Hampton parish, and the Episcopalian commissary for the colony.* He was answered by two pamphlets, written, the one by col. Richard Bland, and the other by col. Landon Carter, in both which the commissary was very roughly handled. He replied, in a still severer pamphlet, under the ludicrous title of "The Colonels Dismounted." The colonels rejoined; and this war of pamphlets, in which, with some sound argument, there was a great deal of what Dryden has called "the horse play of raillery," was kept up, until the whole colony, which had at first looked on for amusement, kindled seriously in the contest from motives of interest. Such was the excitement produced by the discussion, and at length so strong the current against the clergy, that the printers found it expedient to shut their presses against them in this colony, and Mr. Camm had at last to resort to Maryland for publication. These pamphlets are still extant; and it seems impossible to deny, at this day, that the clergy had much the best of the argument. The king in his council, took up the subject, denounced the act of 1758 as an usurpation, and declared it utterly null and void. Thus supported, the clergy resolved to bring the question to a judicial test; and suits were accordingly brought by them, in the various county courts of the colony, to recover their stipends in the specific tobacco. They selected the county of Hanover as the place of the first experiment; and this was made in a suit instituted by the Rev. James Maury,† against the collector of that county and his sureties. The record of this suit is now before me. The declaration is founded on the act of 1748 which gives the tobacco; the defendants pleaded specially the act of 1758, which authorizes the commutation into money, at sixteen and eight pence: to this plea the plaintiff demurred; assigning for causes of demurrer, first, that the act of 1758, not having received the royal assent, had not the force of a law; and, secondly, that the king, in council, had declared that act null and void. The case stood for argument on the demurrer to the November term, 1763, and was argued by Mr. Lyons for the plaintiff, and Mr. John Lewis for the defendants; when the court, very much to the credit of their candour and firmness, breasted the popular current by sustaining the demurrer. Thus far the clergy sailed before the wind, and concluded, with good reason, that their triumph was com

*The governor of Virginia represented the king; the council the house of lords; and the Episcopalian commissary (a member of the council) represented the spiritual part of that house; the house of burgesses, was, of course, the house of commons.

+ Mr. Burk (vol. 3d. page 303) makes the Rev. Patrick Henry the plaintiff in this cause; in this he is corrected by the records of the county. Mr. Burk, also, sets down "The Two-Penny Act" to the speculations of a man by the name of Dickinson; in this he is confuted by the act itself; the preamble expressly founding it, on the shortness of the crop.

plete: for the act of 1758 having been declared void by the judgment on the demurrer, that of 1748 was left in full force, and became, in law, the only standard for the finding of the jury. Mr. Lewis was so thoroughly convinced of this, that he retired from the cause; informing his clients that it had been, in effect decided against them, and that there remained nothing more for him to do. In this desperate situation, they applied to Patrick Henry, and he undertook to argue it for them before the jury, at the ensuing term. Accordingly, on the first day of the following December, he attended the court, and, on his arrival, found in the court-yard, such a concourse, as would have appalled any other man in his situation. They were not the people of the county merely, who were there, but visiters from all the counties, to a considerable distance around. The decision upon the demurrer, had produced a violent ferment amongst the people, and equal exultation on the part of the clergy; who attended the court in a large body, either to look down opposition, or to enjoy the final triumph of this hard fought contest, which they now considered as perfectly secure. Among many other clergymen, who attended on this occasion, came the reverend Patrick Henry, who was the plaintiff in another cause of the same nature, then depending in court. When Mr. Henry saw his uncle approach, he walked up to his carriage, accompanied by colonel Meredith, and expressed his regret at seeing him there. "Why so?" inquired the uncle. "Because, sir," said Mr. Henry, "you know that I have never yet spoken in public, and I fear that I shall be too much overawed by your presence to be able to do my duty to my clients; besides, sir, I shall be obliged to say some hard things of the clergy, and I am very unwilling to give pain to your feelings." His uncle reproved him for having engaged in the cause: which Mr. Henry excused by saying, that the clergy had not thought him worthy of being retained on their side, and he knew of no moral principle by which he was bound to refuse a fee from their adversaries; besides, he confessed, that in this controversy, both his heart and judgment, as well as his professional duty, were on the side of the people; he then requested that his uncle would do him the favour to leave the ground. "Why, Patrick," said the old gentleman with a good-natured smile, "as to your saying hard things of the clergy, I advise you to let that alone-take my word for it, you will do yourself more harm than you will them; and as to my leaving the ground, I fear, my boy, that my presence could neither do you harm or good, in such a cause. However, since you seem to think otherwise, and desire it of me, so earnestly, you shall be gratified." Whereupon, he entered his carriage again, and returned home.

"Soon after the opening of the court, the cause was called. It stood on a writ of inquiry of damages, no plea having been entered by the defendants since the judgment on the demurrer. The array before Mr. Henry's eyes was now most fearful. On the bench sat more than twenty clergymen, the most learned men in the colony, and the most capable, as well as the severest critics before whom it was possible for him to have made his debut. The court-house was crowded with an overwhelming multitude, and surrounded with an immense and anxious throng; who not finding room to enter, were endeavouring to listen without, in the deepest attention. But there was something still more awfully disconcerting than all this; for in the chair of the presiding ma

gistrate, sat no other person, than his own father. Mr. Lyons opened the cause very briefly: in the way of argument he did nothing more than explain to the jury, that the decision upon the demurrer had put the act of 1750 entirely out of the way, and left the law of 1748 as the only standard of their damages; he then concluded with a highly wrought eulogium on the benevolence of the clergy. And, now, came on the first trial of Patrick Henry's strength. No one had ever heard him speak, and curiosity was on tiptoe. He rose very awkwardly, and faultered much in his exordium. The people hung their heads at so unpromising a commencement; the clergy were observed to exchange sly looks with each other; and his father is described as having almost sunk with confusion, from his seat. But these feelings were of short duration, and soon gave place to others, of a very different character. For, now, were those wonderful faculties which he possessed, for the first time developed; and now, was first witnessed that mysterious and almost supernatural transformation of appearance, which the fire of his own eloquence never failed to work in him. For as his mind rolled along, and began to glow from its own action, all the exuvia of the clown, seemed to shed themselves, spontaneously. His attitude, by degrees, became erect and lofty. The spirit of his genius awakened all his features. His countenance shone with a nobleness and grandeur which it had never before exhibited. There was a lightning in his eyes which seemed to rive the spectator. His action became graceful, bold, and commanding; and in the tones of his voice, but more especially in his emphasis, there was a peculiar charm, a magic, of which any one who ever heard him, will speak as soon as he is named, but of which no one can give any adequate description. They can only say that it struck upon the ear and upon the heart, in a manner which language cannot Add to all these, his wonder-working fancy, and the peculiar phraseology in which he clothed its images; for he painted to the heart with a force that almost petrified it. In the language of those who heard him on this occasion," he made their blood run cold, and their hair to rise on end."

tell.

"It will not be difficult for any one, who ever heard this most extraordinary man, to believe the whole account of this transaction which is given by his surviving hearers; and from their account, the court-house of Hanover county must have exhibited on this occasion, a scene as picturesque, as has been ever witnessed in real life. They say, that the people, whose countenances had fallen as he arose, had heard but a very few sentences before they began to look up; then to look at each other with surprise, as if doubting the evidence of their own senses; then, attracted by some strong gesture, struck by some majestic attitude, fascinated by the spell of his eye, the charm of his emphasis, and the varied and commanding expression of his countenance, they could look away no more. In less than twenty minutes, they might be seen in every part of the house, on every bench, in every window, stooping forward from their stands, in death-like silence; their features fixed in amazement and awe; all their senses listening and rivetted upon the speaker, as if to catch the last strain of some heavenly visitant. The mockery of the clergy was soon turned into alarm; their triumph into confusion and despair; and at one burst of his rapid and overwhelming invective, they fled from the bench in precipitation and terror. As for