My destiny of a thousand years of life from birth, looked alternately, bleak and glorious, yet Fate being my master, and being endowed with an irrepressible, forgiving, laughing and progressive disposition, I called up the spirits of the air one midnight hour at the Boar's Head Tavern, and exacted from them a promise that wherever I wandered over the earth to witness the rise and fall of men and nations, like bubbles on a stormy sea, they would strictly obey my command. _Ariel, Puck and Oberon Lent me their wings to sail upon Over the land and stormy sea To aid the cause of Liberty. A thousand years from date of birth, Destined to wander over the earth, I'll roll with the ages brave and free, Till I round the capes of eternity!_ I have witnessed the greatest events of the centuries in Europe, Asia and Africa, and on the spiritual wings of Truth, rapid as the lightning flash, I have sailed; and fought the battles of the people in every land and clime, being the compeer and critic of the most illustrious poets, philosophers, statesmen and warriors for the past three hundred years. I move forward for the liberty of man! Before leaving old Albion for my investigating flight of centuries, I was a painful witness to the decapitation of my great friend, Sir Walter Raleigh, whose heroic conduct at the block melted the spectators into tears, and brought down loud maledictions on the corrupt head of Lord Bacon, who was the principal villain in the final destruction of the great navigator, warrior and philosopher. I listened to the great Raleigh on the 29th of October, 1618, standing by the block, addressing the executioner and the multitude, when handling the shining axe: "This is a sharp medicine, but a sound cure for all diseases!" Lying down and fitting himself to the block, the executioner asked him to alter the position of his head, when he replied: "It is no matter which way the head lies, so the heart be right! Why dost thou not strike? Strike, man!" And, then, quick as a flash the glittering axe split the head from the shoulders of one of the noblest men of England. I turned away from the gloomy precincts of the terrible Tower, and cursed the falsehood and iniquity of Elizabeth, James and Lord Bacon, jealous plotters against growing, illustrious men. Raleigh in his poem "The Soul's Errand," pictures thus this lying world: _"Go, soul, the body's guest, Upon a thankless arrant; Fear not to touch the best, The truth shall be thy warrant; Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie!_ _"Go, tell the court it glows And shines like rotten wood; Go tell the church it shows What's good, and doth no good. If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie!_ _"Tell men of high condition That manage home and state, Their purpose is ambition, Their practice only hate; And if they once reply Then give them all the lie!"_