"Very true; at least, from our standpoint. While they did well to select this phase of his character, no doubt it thrills their hot veins more to look on the defiant form of their beloved leader. What I have said of the two men was truth, but similarity stops there. Bolivar had very much of the savage wildness about him, and he was reckless, headstrong, and sometimes foolhardy. But his career was a grand one, as viewed by his countrymen. It was filled with bold, cunning, victorious marches. His Valley Forge was the torrid jungles and sun-swept plains of a tropical clime; his Delaware, filled with floating ice, to be crossed in mid-winter, the broken mountain pass, or the pathless swamp filled with deadly malaria. Like our Washington, he came of a distinguished family, and he was educated in Europe for the court and camp. But, if educated abroad, his love for his native land never failed, and Venezuela never had a truer son, or a more valiant fighter for her natural rights.
"Ay, lads, his campaigns were filled with such stupendous feats of activity and accomplishment as few have ever equaled. Starting on the seacoast near Pallao, with his foot soldiers and rude cavalry mounted on mule back, he crossed the continent. The perils of mountain-climbing and the hardships of the jungle were met and overcome by his indomitable followers, inspired by his glowing example, living much of the time on berries and roots, sleeping at night upon the ground, to free in turn Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador and Bolivia; then, sweeping down the Pacific coast, to finally overthrow the empire of Peru. He was a young man filled with the love of freedom and the fire of ambition. So little was his heroism appreciated by those whom he thus met that time and again he was forced to meet the assassin, only to find himself deserted at last by those whom he had looked upon and rewarded as friends. So he died alone, of heartaches over the ingratitude of a people he had led out of bondage. But to-day tardy justice makes him, as he deserved to be, the hero of five republics."
"Why should his countrymen, after all he had done for them, strip him of his honors and leave him forlorn and disappointed?" asked Ronie.
"It was owing largely to the inborn fickleness of people of a tropical clime. Two charges, one directly opposed to the other, were brought against him. One party claimed, after having rid them of kings, he tried to make a dictator of himself, with power more absolute than that of those he had deposed. The other said it was because, upon his followers asking him to accept such power, he declined and went into voluntary exile at Santa Marta. Be that as it may, it was nearly twenty years after his death before there was one bold enough to give him the place in public opinion that he deserved. He caused an artist to design a statue that should perpetuate his memory.
"Now we come to see how closely the history of this country is blended with our own. On the neck of the statue the artist placed a miniature in the form of a medallion which the family of Washington had given Bolivar. On the reverse of this was a lock of Washington's hair, with the inscription:
"'This portrait of the founder of liberty in North America is presented by his adopted son to him who has acquired equal glory in South America.'
"You will notice that none of the insignias of honors showered upon him in his hours of triumph by different countries have been retained by the artist, this portrait of the Father of Our Country having been the only ornament it was deemed he would have cared for, as in life he was prouder of this than all else. So you see, the busts and statues of the Liberator bear only this tribute, while those of his followers are decked with glittering ornaments."
"I have read of a very pretty story connected with its presentation," said Harrie. "It was during the time of Lafayette's visit to our country in 1824. A banquet was given in his honor and the memory of Washington by Congress. In the midst of the rejoicings and tributes paid to the venerable visitor, Henry Clay arose to say that, while they were enjoying the fruits of independence, the grand institutions founded by their patriotic forefathers, there were those in the Southern continent who were fighting as valiantly for liberty, with less hope of ultimate victory. Continuing to wax eloquent, the great orator said:
"'No nation, no generous Lafayette, has come to their succor; alone, and without aid, they have sustained their glorious cause, trusting to its justice, and with the assistance only of their bravery, their deserts and their Andes—and one man, Simon Bolivar, the Washington of South America.'
"There was wild cheering then, while men sprang to their feet and clapped their hands. Then Lafayette, the generous, asked that he might send the Southern hero some token of their sympathy and appreciation of his valor. The result was, Lafayette sent Bolivar the portrait of Washington, and it proved a gift the young patriot of the Southland revered, while his people grew to admire and cherish it."