believe that facts can be undone by blinking them. But our forefathers

on the whole were wise, and knew that nothing is trampled more basely

than right that will not right itself.

Therefore they set their faces hard, and toughened their hearts like

knotted oak, against all that man could do to them. There were no

magnificent proclamations, no big vaunts of victory at the buckling

on of armour, but the quiet strength of steadfast wills, and the stern

resolve to strike when stricken, and try to last the longest. And so

their mother-land became the mother of men and freedom.

In November, 1802, the speech from the throne apprised the world that

England was preparing. The widest, longest, and deadliest war, since the

date of gunpowder, was lowering; and the hearts of all who loved their

kin were heavy, but found no help for it.

The sermon which Mr. Twemlow preached in Springhaven church was

magnificent. Some parishioners, keeping memory more alert than

conscience, declared that they had received it all nine, or it might be

ten, years since, when the fighting first was called for. If so, that

proved it none the worse, but themselves, for again requiring it. Their

Rector told them that they thought too much of their own flesh-pots and

fish-kettles, and their country might go to the bottom of the sea, if it

left them their own fishing-grounds. And he said that they would wake up

some day and find themselves turned into Frenchmen, for all things were

possible with the Lord; and then they might smite their breasts, but

must confess that they had deserved it. Neither would years of prayer

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