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WAHHF.* IIAEII, Kdltor and Publisher. VOL. 1. PROFESSIONAL CARDS. f. i. aKimiTT Aunt. pehuimi. MERRITT If OEERUTR, AT T ORNEYB A T LAW. Office on Main atrcet, between Fourth and Fifth, MARIPOSA. allf m i x. DKHUKO, NOTARY PUBLIC. Henry t«. Worthington, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW. Office in Fremont's A<lobe House, corner Main and Fifth ata. «Uf MARIPOSA. • AML. D. AU«>N Ft. H HA Kills . ALISON HARRIS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, MARIPOSA. Okkite on Main, hktwkkn Forum and Fifth Sts. altf Kich oliih Cl var y, ATTORNEY fy COUNSELLOR AT LAW , MARIPOSA, CAL. Offic*—East si io of Main street, between Fourth and Fifth streets. jy23tf R . H. DALY, COUNSELLOR AT LAW; DISTRICT ATTORNEY - AND NOTARY PUBLIC; MARI POS A . Office in the Court House Building. aS-tf R. 11. Kail, A TTORNEY A T LA W, MERCED FALLS, MERCED COUNTY altf J . S . WAT T S , JUSTICE OF THE PEACE FOR TOWNSHIP No. 3. Office on Mam street, two doors below the Post Office, MARIPOSA. altf ALFRED F. WASHBURN, lUBTICE OF THE PEACE FOR TOWNSHIP No. 3, OFFICE IN MARIPOSA. alll DR. W. S. KAVANAUOH. ->KTfI ‘. —ON MAIN STREET, OI’POHITE DR. HUHBEIJ.'S DAGUErtREAN GALLERY, MARIPOSA. altf DM. JAMES L. CLARKE. tJTPKT ‘PINE TREE HOUSE,” CORNER FIITH AND MAIN STREETS, MARIPOSA. altf DR. THOMAS PAYNE. nr Omit— At IV. A. Ik Boyce'a Dm; Store, np|>o«ite the Yoaetnlte Held, Vlaf.iMtsli,—when- hu may be consulted it aflhoufi. altf COOK & FENNER, COUNSELLORS AT LAW , Parsons Building, No. 140 Clay Street, •19-tf SAN FRANCISCO. JOHN A. LENT, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, No. 42 Montgomery Block, Montgomery afreet, altf Ban Francisco. E. R. C’ARPENTIEK, COUNSELLOR AT LAW AND NOTARY PUBLIC, Corner Merchant and Montgomery hlreete, altf SA s FkaNt im c o. BT. Potty, CONSTABLE, TOWNSHIP NO. 1. Particular attention paid to the collection of Account*, Notes, Ac., jelitf j. w. HUEY, CONSTABLE. Will attend to the Collecting of Accounts, and all other business appertaining to his office. Orders left at Justice Waabburn's office, will be promptly attended to. a .s-tf J. B. ISBAIL, I> ES 3NT T I S T , MAIN STREET, MARIPOSA, I FORMERLY OF PHILADELPHIA, (PENN.) IS I’ERMA nently located in Maripoxa. having a comfortable ami •nyenient Office, next door to tbo Pacific Exprex*. with all the necea*ary Instrument* and appliance*. Will do any kind of work that immtain* to the profoxalon of IVntistry, in manner which .hall give entire satisfaction. nr the money ■rfmided Artificial Teeth inserted on (Job! Plato or on ■Pivot, a* the oa«w may require. Teeth Plugged with pure •old. or extracted. Children'*Teeth regulated when n**ee* >arv. and all IHsuaaea of the On in* treated, the moat of which arc called * curvy of the gum*. Cure, or no pay Chloroform administered, if desired. T'-rra* reatonuble. Examination free. altf DOCTOR RIDDELL, Licentiate of the Royal College of Surgeons, Edin burg; Physician Accoucheur, Dublin, Master in Surgery, and Bachelor of Arts, Andersonian University. OFFICE AT INDIAN GULCH. (SaNTA CRC7.) MARIPOSA COUNTY r pilF IaaTOR pas-ed hi* Ilr*t examination in 1836, and 1 I Graduated in 1842 ; during the interim being a pupil in j Madame Stephen*' Hospital, jbiblin (iuv’a London, ami ■ (he ( Jiang-nv Royal luflnnan ; practicing since, in Europe, j Mexico and the United Mate*, he should he well acquainted j with every dejuirtiiient of hi* lYnfowlon. ELFtTKKTTY arienliflealh npolled a* a Medical agent m Paralytic. Nervous, Rheumatic, Uterine and Syphilitic dl* **«<•«. The Im i itivi. Fi rm\r employed to exlrart Keren* ty. and other Mineral*, from the «r*trm Patient* Hoarded at fk p«-i aeek or noted at their re'i-tencp* promptly jell 3m HORNITOS, MARIPOSA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, THURSDAY MORNING, JULY 30, 1857. Hlaripsa §itiMtrnt. PUBLISHED EVERY TH I'RSD A Y MIIRM NO, BY WARREN BAER, niHTOK AND PUBLISHER. TERMS: Per xnnum. In adranro .. f 6 00 For six months, in advance 3 00 Single copies 26 Advertisements inserted at the lowest rates. ««> I very description of Plain and Fancy Job Printing neatly and promptly executed. A (i E NTS. JAMES M. VAN DYKE, cornerof Main and fourth streets, Mariposa, la our authorised agent to receive Subscriptions. Advertisements, and Job Work All orders left with him will receive prompt attention. THOMAS BOYCE, northeast corner Washington and Montgomery streets, fton Francisco, is our duly author Iml agent to receive subscriptions and advertisement.'. T. M. HESTON, Express Rider between this place and Kern River, is duly authorized to receive subscriptions, ad vertisements and job Work. Ai“ Mr. FD. TODD, of Stockton, is our duly authorized Agent to receive subscriptions and advertisements. AN ORATION Delivered July 4, nt Visalia. Tulare Co. BY S. C. BROWN, EHy. Mu. Chairman —Ladies and gentlemen—l am confident you have not assembled hero with any high expectations regarding your speaker, or you would have made choice of some other of those many persons present, so much better able to address you than myself. The subject too, is one on which, for the last fifty years, hundreds of annual addresses have been delivered all over the Union, rendering it almost impossible for ono to devise a thought appropriate to the time, which has not already been said or sung in a thousand various shapes. But as a bad speech is always more accepta ble than a good apology, I shall only observe, in the language of modern scripture, “ Blessed are they who expect nothing—for verily I say j unto you, they shall not bo deceived.” j The Jews still revere the day of their do j livery from Egyptian bondage. The Greeks I I long commemorated the victory of Marathon and the heroic defence of Thermoplm. The Romans celebrated the foundation of their Em pire, the flight of Tarquin, the establishment of the Republic, and its many brilliant victo- 1 ries, and almost every State that has existed, j and every people that have flourished, have j left behind them additional evidence of the proncuesH of the mass of mankind to revere the heroic virtues of their ancestors; even long after they themselves have become too degen-1 crate to imitate their example. The next de gree below the performance of noble deeds l ourselves, is an appropriate admiration of their accomplishment by others. Anri the Ameri can people are only carrying into practice a natural and proper sentiment of the human heart, shared with themselves in common with : the rest of mankind, when on this day they assemble together in every town and city throughout the Union, to freshen their remem brance of that revolutionary struggle which gave them their independence. And amid 1 that long and trying contest, every hour of j which was filled with noble deeds and generous, sacrifices, what day stands so preeminent above the rest as that on which those great i and good men who composed the Continental Congress of the confederate but rebellious colo nies of England ; with the wisdom of the sage, | the virtues of the patriot, and the boldness of the hero, signed their names to that Declara tion of Independence to which you have just ' enjoyed the pleasure of listening, and which served as a key to unlock the doors of national! sovereignty, through which our great, our hap py, our hopeful Republic passed to its equal 1 station among the powers of the earth and ex - i polled the remains of English despotism from the American household. All the good results of the Revolution—all the beauties of our social and political systems —all this grand display of energy, and of in dustry and of power—all this magnificent de velopment of the resources of Nature, and all the vast diffusion of useful intelligence, of virtue and of happiness, belong to that Declaration. The war of the Revolution had commenced, and the memorable fields of Lexington and Bunker’s Hill had been crimsoned with the blood of American martyrs long before that Declaration opened to their enraptured visions the sublime prospect of final freedom, and yet the colonists bravely fought and bled, and died with no loftier object in view than to learn how much the display of their valor might affect the terms of their vassalage, i But that Declaration gave birth to new courage, more extended views, and higher hopes. The soldier felt that he had a country to defend, and a flag around which to rally.— The Statesman saw that England, whose pride forbade her to treat with her rebellious colo nies, might bo induced to make terms with a sovereign State, and all saw, all felt that so great an object could not be lost, so noble an aim could never fail, and that though they themselves might perish in the doubtful con flict, and pass off the stage in the hour of gloom and despondency, yet a whole people united in so holy a cause, mint and would succeed at last, and that they would leave behind them friends and children to enjoy the blessing, and who would prize it the more that it was pur chased with their blood. Of all the State papers of ancient or modern limes that ever emanated from the councils of Republics, or the cabinets of Kings, that "the Onion and its government." Declaration is in its character the most digni fied, in its results the most important. With it the independence of the country was estab lished, and her institutions built upon a basis, broad as the Continent, and solid as its moun tain rocks. Without it, the war might have been fought, the same bloody deeds might have been witnessed, the same heroic daring and generous sacrifices might have been seen—it may be that equitable terms of adjustment might have been obtained : yet the colonists would have closed the contest as they com menced it—the subjects of England. If then it be proper that the American people should assemble to commemorate the remem brance of the Revolution, true it is that the An niversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence has, with great propriety, been set apart for that purpose. Since that Decla ration was signed by those men who perilled their all, and pledged their “ lives, their for tunes ami their sacred honors” to effect the in dependence of their country, a period of eighty one years have elapsed. And what an eighty one years has it been I At that time the limits of the confederacy were confined to the thir teen original States, which with the exception of the giant one of Pennsylvania, fringed the Atlantic coast from Maine to Florida, with a sparse population, confined exclusively to the sea board. The western portion of the Caro linas, Georgia, Pennsylvania, and even New York itself, was an uninhabited and almost un explored wilderness, covered with giant for ests, filled with game, and occupied by the aboriginal proprietors of the soil, and the har dy pioneer whoso adventurous spirit carried him so far beyond the limits of civilization as the tributaries of the St. Lawrence, and the Lakes of New York, or the head waters of the Ohio in Pennsylvania—now covered all over with hamlets, towns and cities, smiling with fruitful fields and echoing with the happy voices of civilized and enterprizing industry— were not only exposed to the trials and hard ships incident to early settlement, but to the more dangerous peril of a bold and barbarous warfare with indiscriminate savages. The tali and primeval forests that covered the beautiful States of Kentucky and Tennes see, had then scarcely learned to echo the voices of their future dernolishers; and that vast, fertile, and luxuriant land, running from the Ohio northward to the Lukes, and stretch ing westward to the colonial limits, out of which so many rich and populous States have since been carved, still slumbered in the repose of Nature. Louisiana and that territory skirting the right bank of the Mississippi, and thence sweeping far west to the eastern limits of Cali fornia, and farther north, overleaping the Rocky Mountains, and descending through the beautiful Tallies of the Columbia, until it fronts the Asiatic continent along the Pacific coast— controlling that great aqueous artery of the Union, the Mississippi and its tributaries-—con stituted an appendage to the crown of France; while Florida, New' Mexico, and our own gold en State acknowledged the crown of Spain. The superficial area of the thirteen original States scarcely exceeded three hundred and seventy-three thousand square miles—a little more than two such States as California—and her population at the close of the Revolution amounted to only three millions of people.— Her commerce was inconsiderable, and her manufactures were without a name. Those great seaboard cities in whose markets the agricultural products of every land, the manu factures, and the mineral wealth of the world may now bo found, were then but towns and villages, the most considerable of which could not boast of a population superior to that of Sacramento. The spot on which Lowell, the Manchester of America, now stands, long after the Revolution was only known for its roman tic scenery. Pittsburg, the Birmingham of the Republic, was remembered only as the site of a French fortress in the vicinity of which the youthful Washington saved a veteran army of England from annihilation, and Lexington beautiful Lexington, the pride of Kentucky, the Athens of the Union—that has since adorn ed our common country with the production of so much of eloquence and gemus, was then u silent wilderness. St. Louis, whose levee re ceives the agricultural wealth of the west, and New Orleans, into whoso luxurious lap all the vast commerce of the Mississippi is poured, was not purchased until the commencement of the nineteenth century; while Louisville, Al ton, Quincy, Mihvaukie, Dubuque, Chicago, and neither last nor least, Cincinnati, enriched by her industry, adorned by her art, and famed alike for love and learning, sprung into exist ence within the memory of the living; present striking examples of the rapidity with which forests fall and cities rise in the tireless march of American energy. The little inland commerce of that period was carried on by the tedious process of navi gating long and crooked rivers with sail ves sels, or in transporting merchandise from one town to another in wagons over bad roads.— The trip from New York to Albany, now ac complished in eight hours, often required a period of several weeks, and Franklin himself was considered a dreaming enthusiast when ho prophesied that the time would come when the journey from Philadelphia to Boston, now run in thirty hours, could be performed in a single week. The few newspapers printed at that period, and whose narrow colums amply sup plied the taste of the times, confined their lim ited circulation to the immediate vicinity in which they were published. The institutions of learning were few, and the Common School system, the benefits of which we arc all proud of having shared, and which scarcely less than the liberal nature of our Government, serves to distinguish us from other nations, was then without existence. The long and arduous struggle for freedom exhausted the feeble resources of the Repub lic, and when at last she had succeeded in : conquering the assent of England to the Treaty of 1788, and emerged from the frowning deso lation of war into the benignant sunshine of ! peace and independence, she was withoutunion j or stability at home, without character or res pect abroad, without money, without credit, and encumbered with an overwhelming na tional debt, superior in proportion to her pop ulation to that under which England now from which she can discover no path of escape but the dishonorable ono of re pudiation. Such is a faint, hasty, and imperfet glance at the condition of the Republic at tho close of the Revolution, nor was it until after the adop tion of the Federal Constitution on the 17th day j of September, 1787, that her progress became visible. From that time to this, a period of three score years and ten, the allotted exist ence of man, what stupendous wonders have been wrought I Eighteen new States and sev en Territories have been added to the Union, her limits have swelled to over three millions of square miles, equaling that of Continental Europe, and thirty millions of people hail tho Anniversary of her Independence. More than , two hundred million acres of land have been reduced to tho purposes of agriculture, and 1 countless towns and villages, and vast cities filled with wealth and alive with industry, have arisen on the ruins of her revolutionary j forests ; and churches and school-houses, and institutions of learning have displaced the tent of the savage. The placid bosun of the rivers, i the great lakes, and the vast ocean itself, are furrowed by her steamers or whitened by her sails; and the restive steam horse champs his iron bit along those roads where through mud and mire the weary teamster hauled the unde veloped produce of earlier times. Harbors have been built, moles reared, and canals dug to add to the commercial conveni ences of Nature, and highways have been con- i structcd whose continuous line would stretch from the earth far out into space thousands of miles beyond the moon. Her agricultural pro- ( ductions feed and clothe the paupers of every land ; her manufactures, which at the close of tho Revolution, were merely nominal, ran now boast a capital of three hundred millions of dollars, giving employment to nearly four hun dred thousands persons, and yielding an ag gregate annual product of three hundred and fifty millions of dollars, which find their way into every market of the civilized world. The press, that foe of tyrants and friend of man; that powerful engine of civilization, and indestructible bulwark of freedom, pours its vast annual circulation of 750,000,000 copies of papers and periodicals all over the Union, giving union of sentiment, ami enlightening the public mind. England, that commercial colossus that for the last two centuries has des olated every land with arms and crimsoned every sea w ith her blood, to win and wear tho proud title of “ Mistress of the Main,” is com pelled to submit to tho humiliation of behold ing tho sceptre of maratimo sovereignty silent ly depart, and ono of her own liberated colo nies rising to rival the magnitude of her com merce, and surpass the extent of her tonnage. The National debt has been paid, and a bound less credit has been established. That respect which springs from fear has been wrung from foreign States, and lhe Union cemented by so many ties, that the fierce strife of sectional in terest, and the wilder workings of fanaticism, have not yet endangered it. And ali this has been accomplished in the short space of seven ty years. It has been said “ a thousand years scarce serve to build a State,” but ours presents the example of a people rising from colonial vassalage to become the most powerful and prosperous nation of any age, in the brief pe riod of a single human life. And gazing upon this gorgeous display, this pleasing spectacle of individual progress, and National attainment, the men of little faith may say all which the wisdom of man can devise, all what the eye of Science can discover, and all that the hand of Art can perform, are ar accomplishcd already. Wo have attained the summit of national greatness. AVo possess wisdom, and wealth, and power, and freedom— nothing new lies hid in the future, and let us ] only busy ourselves how best to enjoy the pres- \ ent, indifferent to others, and careless of the fu ture. But such is the language of blasphemy, of ignorance and of impotence. Who so bold as to assume that the feeble intellect of man is yet able to grasp all tho mysterious wonders of Nature, or the flickering rays of his wisdom illumine the darkness of her night ? Who dure accuse tho Author of human existence with having created man with a mind eminently capable of eternal progress; yet placing him in a field unadapted to its development; with having given him thoughts and feelings, and passions and propensities, with endless thirst and burning desire to accomplish something new r and great and useful, yet restraining their gratification by tho inexorable hand of fate ; leaving mind like Prometheus chained to the rock —the birds of the air preying upon his quivering hut deathless heart —unable to break his chain, yet forbidden to die. We may be unable to conceive what new channels for in dividual and National enterprizo may bo here after opened; wo may not know what new shrine in which the secrets of Nature repose, may bo invaded by the investigations of Science, or laid open by the hand of Art: We may not devise what now clement of power will displace tho Steam Engine, or add an im provement to the conveniences of the Tele graph; yet wo can easily understand that the I next age will laugh at tho simplicity of this, as , we do at the good natured ignorance of the i past. The child who gathers the wild flower that wilts in its hand, throws it down with con tempt, and seeks for new ones, and the spirit T BUMS :• FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. of the child pervades the man, rendering him . easily satiate in the possession, hut tireless in the pursuit of things; and carrying this pecu liarity with him into community, the wants of society, beget an interchange of notions and opinions, which mutually modifying each other, blend together in one mass of public sentiment, out of which Governments, at least such as ours, derive their character and draw their > policies, and the State and tho citizen progress alike. Hence it is, that all free Governments arc, and must he, only the index of public opinion. It is folly to talk of Governments distinct from tho people. Who ever heard of a free and refined system of Government sup -1 ported by barbarians, or saw wisdom and virtue i flourishing under misrule and oppression? To say then that our nation has reached its climax, and enjoys all that she should aim at, is to assume that her people possess all that in virtue is desirable, and all that in knowledge is useful, and are capable of no farther pro gress. Profanely dangerous ns such nn as ; sumption must he, still if it ho admitted, there ' are yet ample channels I* ft for the exercise of 1 our National energh s. There arc new duties I to bo performed arising from the position that ■ our Government sustains in the great family of Nations, that may yet call for the union of all her wealth and all her power. The same duties that man owes to man, Nations owes to Nations. To keep aloof from the misfortunes of others—to gaze upon sorrow without sooth (ing it, or misery without relieving, violates the noblest feelings of the human heart, and no thing but the extreme of circumstance can jus tify its adoption ns a policy. Tho reverse is a principle. Policies may change with the sea sons that gave them birth, but principles are as immutable as time itself. The policy that this Nation has thus far invariably pursued of being a silent spectator to the great National events that have transpired around her, be holding State after State annihilated, and their people oppressed to gratify the ambition of Monarchs, under the specious pretence of pre serving the balance of power: had its origin in the infancy of the Republic, while she was yet encumbered with the debts, and bleeding with tho wounds of Revolution; while her people wore few, and her syitem of Govern ment was an untried experiment. But these reasons, now, happily, no longer exist, and the t policy itself ought to he, and I have faith ••nough to believe will he, speedily abandoned. Under its operations, Poland, whose sons fought side by side with our Fathers through the Revolution, the blood of whose bravo and generous hut exiled children, has watered the battle-fields of every Nation, has been dismem bered without a protest. And wo have seen Greece vainly struggling for thodiberties we enjoy; her fields ravaged— her cities in flames, and her children going down beneath the murderous geymotar of the Turk: and though every American bosom was filled with indignation, and every heart with sympathy, yet the Nation spoke not, lest, forsooth, she might give umbrage to the sen sitive Ottoman. And wo have thought too, that we were performing all the duties of a great, free, and powerful Nation, when, after the die was east and the contest closed, wc opened our arms to receive the defeated and disheartened exiles of Hungary. A curse up on every policy which when the great ques tions of National and moral rights are concern ed, converts into cowards a Nation, that in the pursuit of its own selfish ends, has given to the world the most ample evidence of the pos session of both boldness and courage. It may he said that a different policy would involve us in war. And are wc to pause in the performance of the great moral duties of Nations, until we learn whether our acts will please or displease the insolent pride of Popes and Kings ? Besides if war must come, when, and where could it better find us than in per forming right and rebuking wrong, and forcing the immutable principles of Justice into the policy of Nations. For then wo should not only carry with us the undivided sympathies of the people, hut would call around us, as friends and co-workers, the virtuous and op pressed of every land. The wars of selfish ness, and of ambition, have desolated and dis graced every preceding age, hut the war of principle has been reserved for this. Whatev er has been, or may he said, about tho evils of war, still it has its benefits. It has been the great engine of civilization; it has been the clarion to arouse tho dormant energies of the oppressed, it has taught mankind how to break the chains of bondage, and how to win, and how to maintain their liberties; and far greater must bo the development of wisdom, and far higher the refinement in morals, ere wars shall cease to he useful, or Nations placed too high to reap any advantage from their occurrence. With us, it might be said, it would offer an outlet to that excess of restless energy which ever seeking for something to perform, might otherwise breed discord and disunion ; and it would drain off (hat vast and fast accumulat ing wealth, which, though it has not yet pro duced any perceptible evil, hath nevertheless |an inevitable tendency to enervate and cor | rupt. But it may he contended that having acquired so many blessings and advantages, wo now possess far too much to hazard in any contest, though dictated by moral duty and justice ; and that our safest and best policy is to stand where wc are, and to allow those oth ers that yet linger behind, to follow after ns best they may. But such a view is founded in ignorance of the social character, and social tendencies of mankind. The bosom of the great Ocean itself, is not more strongly or con stantly impelled by its natural tendencies, to seek and maintain an < quilibrium, than is the bosom of society ; and as soon might wo hope to behold a column of water rise and stand self-sustained above the surface of (he Sen, ns that ono Nation, or ono people should long preserve a decided preeminence over tho rest of tho race. And when such an instance pre sents itself, it is not in accordance with , but in spite of the moral and social laws —those lawn, the complete observance of which, would give tho same solemn, silent and sublime harmony to the social Universe, that we behold all around us in the physical. The favored among the Nations, must assist others to rise ; or expect themselves to be pulled down by the inexplicable force of social attraction. They may go backwards, hut they cannot pause.— Nations have never yet discovered an interme diate state in which to halt between progress and decline. China has been trying it for tho last three thousand years, yet this very day she is torn with faction, rent with discord, and deso lated with domestic war; and submits to tho I disgrace of beholding her most ancient and NO. 17. ! populous cities battered to the ground by a nation, thousands of years younger than her self. Will it be said, that though not so pop i ulous as China, yet that we possess far greater the elements of power, superior wealth, and more prosperity ; and that these will secure us against vicissitudes of her fortune ? Trust it not. The idea that the possession of power, and wealth, and prosperity, are all that Nations should aim at; and that these alone, unassisted by the presence of virtue, and the , practice of Justice will secure to them the permanency of their duration, is a dongerous delusion, i repeat it, a dangerous delusion. — : Ask History that comes down to us from the ' dim ages of the past, freighted with so many stupendous, but saddening monuments of Na tional decay ; and it will tell you that the pos session of power has never yet guarantied the security even of its possessor. A thousand years before the Christian Era dawned upon the World, Egypt, the inventor of letters, was a powerful and prosperous State, luminous in Arts, and invincible in Arms. Yet the marshes of the Nile have resumed their sovereignty over the fertile field, called forth from their bosoms by the magical industry of her people ; the great Lakes and vast Canals, constructed to supply the deficiencies of Nature, and whose very shades reproach the vanity of modern pretensions, arc destroyed by the re lentless hand of Time ; leaving naught but her yet tenanted Catacombs, and her imperishable Pyramids, to corroborate the almost fabulous assumption of her history. Persia, too, was powerful. Her victorious monarchs carried their military conquests from Egypt to the Indies, and with an army whose numerical strength exceeded all of ancient, ; and of modern times, were only baffled at last, by the more heroic spirits of Greeks. Yet Persia too fins fallen, and left behind her, not one trace of her industry, not one memento of i her power. And Greece was powerful. By the vigor ous union of her arms she leveled the walls of Troy; and ages afterward controlled by the military genius, and fired by the indomitable energies of Alexander, she crossed the Helles pont, traversed that dangerous desert, where in the gloom of Death reposed the once splen did armies of Cyrus and Sc mi ram is; overrun Lesser Asia; subjugated India; conquered Egypt, and founded a commercial emporium on the barren coast of Africa, that for centu ries controlled the rich commerce of Asia, and constituted the centre of Science, and of phi losophy. But where now is Greece? The wisdom of her Sages, the eloquence of her Orators, and the inspiration of her Bards, it is true, have given to her a name, imperishable as the mournful memory of the past—but her power has vanished—her name has been blot ted from the Book of Nations, and her sacred soil polluted by the presence of a foreign and sacrcligious soldier. And what of Home ? Founded by a military colony of Ancient “ fillibusters,” animated by a thirst for conquest, and sustained by success: She went on step by step, even ns our own country has commenced, conquering tribe after tribe, province after province, and Empire j after Empire; and though often ( becked by reverses, and defeated in the field, though I Legion after Legion perished in the sands of Africa, and the forests of Germany, and whole I armies were exterminated in the fields of | Asia-Minor, still she pursued the path of con -1 quest and of power until the radiations of her | empire absorbed almost all the provinces of i the then known world. Yet all tier collossal accumulation of power could not so much as secure to her the permanency of her duration ; and Home fell at last, crushed beneath the hands of the very barbarians she had defeated and despised. How vain is it then, to anticipate the perpetui ty of government from the possession of power. Neither is it to be found in wealth and pros perity. The nations of Antiquity were rich ami prosperous. The Gold of Ophir, the pur ple of Tyre, the pearls of the Persian sea, the perfumes of Arabia, the steel of Damascus, the diamonds of Golconda, the Gold-dust and Ivory of Africa, and the rich wines of Faler nium and Sabinum commingled in their com merce and gave them wealth : but wealth could not avail, and all those powerful States, and resplendent cities, with all their gorgeous wealth, have vanished like the costly com modities that gave their riches, leaving nought but mouldering ruins in the solitary waste to mark those spots of Earth once thronged with busy life, ami filled with human beings like unto ourselves, with the same hopes and anxie ties, the same feelings and fears; urged on ward by the spur of ambition, and enticed by j the allurements of wealth. Look at Spain, poor, degraded, unfortunate Spain, and tell me, if you can, where is her once fabulous wealth ? | Shaking the Moorish yoke from her neck, she stretched her omnipotent arm across the sea, I annihilated at a stroke the Empires of Monte zuma and the Incas, founded colony after colony, until she boasted that the Sun never sat on her dominions, tilled her insatiate coffers w ith the vast spoils, and untold wealth of Mex ico and Peru, and then reclining on her golden couch, vainly dreamed of an Eternity of Em pire. But her riches only begat corruption, and when misfortune found her at last—encumber ed with her wealth, her industry gone and her enterprise prostrated—one by one it strip ed her of her hundred provinces until now, to day, the beautiful, but ungoverned Island of Cuba—that “ key of the Gulf”—that “ gem of the Antilles,” is the last plank in her Colo j nial shipwreck, and Spain herself, owes her sickly existence more to the pity and contempt of foreign States, than to her own inherent I strength. Thus hath perished, and thus here after will perish every Nation that forgets vir tue and justice, in the pursuit of w ealth and power. Let, then, those great Statesmen who arc to control the destinies of our Country, incline their willing ears to the warning voice of His tory, and map the path of the future from the instructive lessons of the past. Let them re gard wealth and power as useful, only as a means, but fatal as an end. Ear bo it from my intention to undervalue the possession of : those great National Attributes. Controlled by the great principles of Justice, the pursuit . of wealth begets a healthful industry, and the ; possession of power bestow’s security. But when those principles are properly understood and carried out in the policy of Governments, the greatest glory of a Nation shall be, to boast that she possesses power, and that power pro tects the weak —that she enjoys wealth, and that wealth relieves the misfortunes of man kind.