house in the midst of a delirium of enthusiastic joy, which passed from the kissing of his hands to the kissing of his feet.

Bright shone the lights at Monticello that night, and late was the hour, no doubt, when the sounds of gladness died away and sleep enwrapped the place "big house," quarters, and all. And after everybody else had gone to bed, and every other candle was out, we have not the slightest doubt that the home-coming statesman softly opened the secret drawer in the private cabinet, touched reverently the souvenirs of the dead wife, who had always greeted his returns before, and, in the loneliness of the house where all but he slumbered, the old wounds, which have bled enough," opened again and bled once more.

CHAPTER XXX

DEMOCRACY IN VIRGINIA

NOBODY cares much to know where the average river rises; it is a matter of no particular consequence, and makes no appeal to the imagination. But when one looks upon the fountains from which the Danube flows, when one gazes down into the feeble beginnings of the Nile, the Amazon, or the Mississippi, the feeling must be altogether different. So it is with the various governments of the world. The origin of the average establishment awakes no especial curiosity, challenges no especial investigation; but when we come to deal with such a republic as that which our fathers built, so novel and so great, the remote sources whence it drew the blood and breath of life become intensely interesting.

Whose was the original idea, whose the plan? Who first unfurled its standards and fought its early battles? Whence came the form of our republic, and whence the spirit?

The Puritan says: "It was I who led the way,

planted the principle, developed the idea, gave it strength and shape, caused its triumph. Plymouth Rock is the corner-stone of American democracy."

The Cavalier says: "It was I who ventured first, suffered most, accomplished most. My footing here was permanent and secure before the Puritan was seen. I had planted trial by jury, representative government, and local sovereignty before New England ever heard of a Pilgrim Father. Sword in hand, I had wrested the charter of my liberties from Great Britain a hundred years before the Stamp Act was heard of; and I was practising the leading principles of democracy while the Puritan was hunting for witches, offering large rewards for Indian scalps, selling King Philip's son into slavery, torturing children to get evidence against parents, persecuting to the death anybody who was not a Puritan, denying the right of citizenship to all who were not Puritans, and straining every nerve to establish the most repulsive theocracy the world ever knew."

Such are the contending claims of Puritan and Cavalier. They clash at all points. But the Puritan was quickest with his pen. He wrote the story to suit himself. The Pilgrim Father's sketch was worded by his son, and its modesty is not its striking feature.

When the three ships of December 19, 1606, dropped down the Thames on their way to the sea,

on their way to the New World, they flew at their mastheads the flags of a new civilization, a new empire.

The Discovery, the Goodspeed, the Susan Constant, with the charter of King James the First, sail away from the old home and steer for the Western World. They plant the Christian religion at Jamestown, establish trial by jury, and John Smith is the first man in the New World to be tried by his peers, and to have his heart leap at the blessed words "Not guilty."

No King, no Parliament, aids these heroic adventurers in their struggle for existence in Virginia. When swamps are cleared away, they do the work; when savages assail, they do the fighting. King James has graciously given them a piece of paper, that is all. Theirs the risk, the danger, the toil, the misery, the pain of hunger and disease. Theirs the glory of the victory. By sheer force of character, hardihood, and courage, "the soldier ruler," John Smith, beats down every obstacle, asserts his dominion over the white men of his little colony and the red men of the wilderness, until the settlement of Virginia, its conquest to Anglo-Saxon civilization, is no longer a question of doubt.

"He that will not work shall not eat!"

Admirable John Smith! Red-headed, red-whiskered, short but stout apostle of American democ

racy! Who ever founded a republic upon a nobler principle? It is the "golden rule" of democracy.

The Cavaliers murmured, but they obeyed. Soon it was remarked that the half of the colonists who were classed as "gentlemen" excelled the other half in manual labor.

In the year 1612 began a further progress in republican institutions. Royal permission was given to the London Company, which controlled Virginia, to sit once a week in London and to hold four General Courts in the year for the consideration of the colonial affairs.

Here was the creation of a democratic society in the very citadel of monarchy!

The Company had authority to make laws for Virginia, provided such laws were not contrary to those of Great Britain. What room for debate!

We are not surprised when we read that the meetings were thronged and their discussions tumultuous. No wonder that the ambassador of Spain should tell King James that the Virginia courts were but a seminary to a seditious Parliament!

In Spain, the ambassador could witness, almost any month in the year, the burning at the stake of some poor wretch who had ventured to think for himself on questions which kings and priests had declared were settled.

In London, owing to the King's own lack of fore