At this momentous, this thrilling crisis, a band of sages and patriots assembled at Philadelphia, to devise means for the safety of their bleeding country. In the front rank stood Roger Sherman, in all the dignity of his native greatness. He was a member of the first continental Congress, and remained firm and unwavering at his post, during the trying scenes of the revolution, the formation of the new government, and the adoption of the federal constitution. With a gigantic mind, improved and enlarged by a rich fund of useful knowledge, inured to all the toils and intricacies of legislation, the history of his country and of nations spread upon his memory, the ingratitude and insults of a foreign monarch preying upon his soul, he was prepared to render his country services, equalled by few, exceeded by none. His capacity was equal to every emergency: he shrunk from no duty; discharged every responsibility assumed; moving, with the mathematical precision of a planet, within the orbit of sound discretion. He was familiar with men and things, acquainted with the _minutiæ_ of human nature, traced causes and results to their true source, and viewed, with a philosophic eye, the secret springs of human action; the _arcana_ of economies was open before him; he solved problems, demonstrated principles, placing them in the full blaze of illustration, as irresistible as the pages of Euclid. Such was the self-taught Roger Sherman. The session of 1775 was one of great labour, anxiety, and embarrassment. None but “hearts of oak, and nerves of steel,” could have sustained the tremendous shock, the fearful onset. An army was to be raised and organized, military stores provided, fortifications erected, rules of government adopted, plans of operation matured, internal enemies encountered, and legions of Britain’s bravest veterans to be repelled. To meet these emergencies, the members of Congress had hearts full of courage, but a treasury empty and bare. A forlorn hope was before them—a revenging foe on their shores. But they had resolved on liberty or death. Nor did they “split on the rock of resolves, where thousands live and die the same.” They met the fury of the king, encountering his vials of wrath with a firmness, wisdom, and patriotism, before unknown; placing them above all Greek, all Roman fame. Their course was onward towards the goal of FREEDOM. No threats of vengeance dismayed them—the shafts of terror fell harmless at their feet. In 1776, with the colonies bleeding at every pore; a picture of sad reverses before them; a conquering enemy sweeping over their land like a destructive torrent; the streams purpled with the blood of their brethren; the cries of widows and orphans ringing in their ears; the sky illuminated by the streaming blaze of their towns; this band of patriots conceived the bold and towering plan of independence—a plan that stamped their heads, their hearts, their names, with immortal fame.