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The prediction uttered in the fourth paragraph of this address was soon fulfilled. After a three years' fruitless war, the repeal of the offensive acts was sent out as a peace-offering to the colonies, but it was too late. The speech from which our extracts are made was delivered in the House of Lords, January 20, 1775, on a motion to withdraw the British troops from Boston.

1. AMERICA cannot be reconciled-she ought not to be reconciled―till the troops of Britain are withdrawn. How can she trust you with the bayonet at her breast? How can she suppose that you mean less than bondage or death? It is not repealing this or that act of Parliament, it is not repealing a piece of parchment, that can restore America to our bosom. You must repeal her fears and her resentments, and you may then hope for her love and gratitude. But now, insulted with an armed force posted at Boston, irritated with a hostile array before her eyes, her concessions, if you could force them, would be suspicious and insecure—the dictates of fear and the extortions of force!

2. But it is more than evident that, principled and united as they are, you cannot force the Americans to your unworthy terms of submission. Repeal, therefore, my lords, I say! But bare repeal will not satisfy this enlightened and spirited people. You must go through the work. You must declare you have no right to tax. Then they may trust you. There is no time to be lost. Every moment is big with dangers. While I am speaking, the decisive blow may be struck and millions involved in the consequence. The very first drop of blood shed in a civil and unnatural war will make a wound which years, perhaps ages, may not heal. It will be immedicab'i-le vulnus.

3. When your lordships look at the papers transmitted to us from America, when you consider their decency, firmness and wisdom, you cannot but respect their cause and wish to make it your own. I must declare and avow that, in the master States of the world, I know not the people nor the senate who, under such a complication of difficult circumstances, can stand in preference to the delegates of America assembled in

General Congress at Philadelphia. For genuine sagacity, for singular moderation, for solid wisdom, manly spirit, sublime sentiments and simplicity of language, for everything respectable and honorable, they stand unrivaled.

4. I trust it is obvious to your lordships that all attempts to impose servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty continental nation, must be vain, must be fatal. This wise people speak out. They do not hold the language of slaves. They tell you what they mean. They do not ask you to repeal your laws as a favor. They claim it as a right; they demand it. They tell you they will not submit to them. And I tell you the acts must be repealed. We shall be forced ultimately to retract. Let us retract while we can, not when we must. I say we must necessarily undo these violent, oppressive acts. They must be repealed. You will repeal them. I pledge myself for it that you will, in the end, repeal them. I stake my reputation on it. I will consent to be taken for an idiot if they are not finally repealed. Avoid, then, this humiliating, this disgraceful necessity.

5. Every motive of justice and of policy, of dignity and of prudence, urges you to allay the ferment in America by a removal of your troops from Boston, by a repeal of your acts of Parliament. On the other hand, every danger and every hazard impend to deter you from perseverance in your present ruinous measures: foreign war hanging over your heads by a slight and brittle thread; France and Spain watching your conduct and waiting the maturity of your errors! To conclude, my lords, if the ministers thus persevere in misadvising and misleading the king, I will not say that they can alienate the affections of his subjects from the crown, but I will affirm that they will make his crown not worth his wearing. I will not say that the king is betrayed, but I will pronounce that the kingdom is undone! LORD CHATHAM (1708-1778).

SELECT ETYMOLOGIES.-Bayonet: fr. Bayonne, in France, because the weapon was first used at the assault on that city in the year 1665.... Extort: L. extor'queo, extor'tum; fr. ex and tor'queo, tor'tum, to twist; h., con


tortion, dis-tort, ex-tortion, re-tort, torment, torsion, tortoise (so called from its twisted feet), tortuous, torture. Fact: L. fa'cio, fac'tum, to make, to do; h., af-fect, af-fectation, con-fection, counter-feit, de-face, de-feat, de-fect, deficient, de-ficit (lit., it is wanting), dif-ficult, ef-fect, ef-ficacious, ef-ficient, face (L. fa'cies, make), facile (L. fă'cilis, easy), faction, factor, factory, fac-totum (a do-all; to'tus, all), faculty, fashion, feasible, feat, feature, fiat (lit., let it be done), for-feit (fõr'is, out of doors), in-fect, of-fice (of = ob), per-fect, prefect, pont-iff (pons, a bridge), pro-fit, re-fection, re-fectory, sacri-fice (să'cer, sacred), suf-fice (suf sub), sur-face (sur· super, above), super-ficies, sur-feit, and numerous verbs ending in -fy, as, ampli-fy, and nouns in -faction and -fice, as, satis-faction, edi-fice. . . . Ferment: v. FERVENT. . . . Idiot: fr. the Gr. idiō'tēs, a private person; fr. id'ios, one's own, private. . . . Immedicable: L. immedicab'ilis, not to be healed; fr. im-in-, not, and medicab'ilis; fr. med'eor, I heal; h., ir-re-mediable, medical, med'icament, medicine, re-medy, etc. . . . Irritate: L. ir'rito, irrita'tum. . . . Maturity: L. matu'rilas; fr. matu'rus, ripe; h., im-mature, pre-mature. . . . Necessity: L. neces'sitas; fr. neces'se, necessary; fr. ne, not, and ces'sus, p. p. of ce'do, cessum, to go, to yield. Philadelphia: fr. the Gr. philadelphos, fond of one's brother or sister; fr. phil'òs, loved, and aděl'phos, brother... Repeal: F. rappeler, to call back; fr. L. re, back, and appel'lo, appella'tum, to approach, to address; fr. ap=ad, to, and pello, I drive; h., ap-peal, ap-pellative: v. PULSE. Sagacity: L. saga'citas; fr. sag'ax, sagacious; fr. saglio, I perceive acutely; h.. pre-sage. . . . Senate: L. sena'tus; fr. sen'ex, sen'icis, old, an old man; h., senile, senior. . . . Sublime: L. subli'mis; probably fr. sub'levo, I lift up from beneath: v. RELIEF. v. TACT.... Urge: L. ur'geo, I press on. . . . Violent : L. vi'olens, violen'tis; fr. vis, strength, force; h., in-violable, violate. . . . Vulnerable: fr. L. vulnus, a wound; h., in-vulnerable.





Before the battle Henry thus addressed his troops: "My children, if you lose sight of your colors, rally to my white plume; you will always find it in the path to honor and glory!" His conduct was answerable to his promise. Henry IV., king of France, born 1553; died 1610.


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Now glory to the Lord of hosts, from whom all glories are!
And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre!
Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance
Through thy corn-fields green and sunny vines, O pleasant land

of France!

And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters; As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy,

For cold and stiff and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy. Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war! Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and Henry of Navarre!


Oh how our hearts were beating when, at the dawn of day,
We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array!
With all its priest-led citizens and all its rebel peers,
And Appenzel's stout infantry and Egmont's Flemish spears!
There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land;
And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand;
And as we looked on them we thought of Seine's empurpled flood,
And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood;
And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war,
To fight for his own holy name and Henry of Navarre.


The king has come to marshal us, in all his armor dressed,
And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest.
He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye;

He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high.
Right graciously he smiled on us as rolled from wing to wing,
Down all our line, a deafening shout, "God save our lord the king!"
"And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may-
For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray-

Press where ye see my white plume shine amid the ranks of war,
And be your oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre."


Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din
Of fife and steed, and trump and drum, and roaring culverin.
The fiery duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain,
With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne.
Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France,
Charge for the golden lilies now--upon them with the lance!
A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest,
A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest;
And in they burst and on they rushed, while like a guiding star,
Amid the thickest carnage, blazed the helmet of Navarre.


Now, God be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath turned his rein;

D'Aumale hath cried for quarter, the Flemish count is slain;

Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale,
The field is heaped with bleeding steeds and flags and cloven mail.
And then we thought on vengeance, and all along our van,
"Remember Saint Bartholomew !" was passed from man to man.
But out spake gentle Henry: "No Frenchman is my foe;
Down-down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go!"
Oh was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war,
As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre?


Ho, maidens of Vienna! ho, matrons of Lucerne !

Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return. Ho, Philip! send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles,

That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls
Ho, gallant nobles of the League! look that your arms be bright;
Ho, burghers of St. Genevieve! keep watch and ward to-night;
For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave,
And mocked the counsel of the wise and the valor of the brave.
Then glory to his holy name from whom all glories are,
And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of Navarre!


SELECT ETYMOLOGIES.-Annoy: F. ennuyer; fr. L. ad and no ceo, I hurt.

Array: old. F. arroyer, to set in order. . . . Burgher: an inhabitant

of a burg; fr. the A. S. burg, or borough, a fortified town. Carnage : L. ca'ro, car'nis, flesh; h., carnal, carnation, carnelian, carnival (car'nival'e, farewell to flesh), charnel, in-carnadine, in-carnate. City: L. ci'vitas; fr. ci'vis, a citizen; h., citizen, civic, civil, civilize, etc. . . . Crest: L. cris'ta, a tuft on the head of animals. Culverin: F. coulverine, a long slender gun; fr. couleuvre, a snake. Helmet: fr. the Icelandic hilma, to cover. . . . Marshal: L. L. mar-es-cal'cus, the master of the horse; fr. the old Ger. mahre, a horse, and schalk, servant. . . . Name: L. no'men, nom'inis; h., cog-nomen (a surname, cog = con), de-nominate, ignominy (ig = in-, not; h., a deprivation of one's good name), nominal, nominate, noun, pro-noun, re-nown, etc. . . . Oriflamme: the ancient royal standard of France; F.; fr. L. au'rum, gold, and flam'ma, a flame. . . . Plume: L. plu'ma, a small soft feather. Truncheon, a short staff; fr. L. trun'co, trunca'tum, to lop, to. cut off; h., truncate, trunk. Vine: L. vi'nea, vi'num, wine; h., vinegar (F. vin, wine, and aigre, sour), vinous, vintage.

Large numbers of genuine compound nouns, mostly of foreign origin, have lost their compound meaning, and now represent, at least to the unlearned, but one single idea. To this class belong Vinegar, from the French vin aigre, sour wine; Verdict, from the Latin ve're dic'tum, to tell truly; Bachelor, from the French bas chevalier, a lower knight; Biscuit, from the Latin bis coc'tus, twice baked.


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