It would have been a pleasure even to look at him if he had
not spoken at all, and all you thought of was a greyhound.
And then he had what so few American speakers have, a voice that sounded
the gamut. I heard him once in Exeter Hall say, "Americans, I send my
voice careering across the Atlantic like a thunderstorm, to tell the
slave-holders of the Carolinas that God's thunderbolts are hot, and to
remind the negro that the dawn of his redemption is drawing near," and I
seemed to hear his voice reverberating and reechoing back to Boston from
the Rocky Mountains.
And then, with the slightest possible flavor of an Irish brogue, he
would tell a story that would make all Exeter Hall laugh, and the next
moment there would be tears in his voice, like an old song, and five
thousand men would be in tears. And all the while no effort--he seemed
only breathing.
"As effortless as woodland nooks
Send violets up and paint them blue."
FOOTNOTE:
[50] By permission of the publishers, Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
THE OPEN DOOR
PATRICK HENRY
I venture to prophesy there are those now living who will see this
favored land among the most powerful on earth; able, sir, to take care
of herself, without resorting to that policy which is always so
dangerous, though sometimes unavoidable, of calling in foreign aid.
Pages:
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453