princely, of ancient times, might I not say, of the times less than a century gone by?

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And yet we have only begun we are but on the threshold of this epoch. A great celebration is now drawing to a close, the celebration, by all nations, of the new era. A vast multitude of all peoples, nations and tongues, has been, but yesterday, gathered under a magnificent crystal palace, in the greatest city of the world, to illustrate and distinguish the achievements of art, less, also, to dignify and exalt the great mechanical fraternity who have filled that palace with wonders. Is not this fact, of itself, charged with a volume of comment? What is it but the setting of the great distinctive seal upon the nineteenth century? an advertisement of the fact that society has risen to occupy a higher platform than ever before? - a proclamation from the high places, announcing honor, honor immortal, to the workmen who fill this world with beauty, comfort and power; honor to be forever embalmed in history, to be perpetuated in monuments, to be written in the hearts of this and succeeding generations!

JUSTICE TO ENGLAND. — C. Sprague.

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Ir, in remembering the oppressed, you think the oppressors ought not to be forgotten, I might urge that the splendid result of the great struggle should fully reconcile us to the madness of those who rendered that struggle necessary. We may forgive the presumption which "declared" its right "to bind the American colonies," for it was wofully expiated by the humiliation which “ knowledged" those same "American colonies" to be “sovereign. and independent states." The immediate workers, too, of that political iniquity, have passed away. The mildew of shame will forever feed upon their memories; a brand has been set upon their deeds, that even Time's all-gnawing tooth can never destroy. But they have passed away; and of all the millions they misruled, the millions they would have misruled, how few remain! Another race is there to lament the folly, another here to

magnify the wisdom, that cut the knot of empire. Shall these inherit and entail everlasting enmity? Like the Carthaginian Hamilcar, shall we come up hither with our children, and on this holy altar swear the pagan oath of undying hate? Even our goaded fathers disdained this. Let us fulfil their words, and prove to the people of England that "in peace" we know how to treat them "as friends." They have been twice told that "in war we know how to meet them "as enemies;" and they will hardly ask another lesson, for, it may be that, when the third trumpet shall sound, a voice will echo along their sea-girt cliffs-"The glory has departed!"

Some few of their degenerate ones, tainting the bowers where they sit, decry the growing greatness of a land they will not love; and others, after eating from our basket, and drinking from our cup, go home to pour forth the senseless libel against a people at whose firesides they were warmed. But a few pens dipped in gall will not retard our progress; let not a few tongues festering in falsehood disturb our repose. We have those among us who are able both to pare the talons of the kite and pull out the fangs of the viper; who can lay bare, for the disgust of all good men, the gangrene of the insolent reviewer, and inflict such a cruel mark on the back of the mortified runaway, as will take long from him the blessed privilege of being forgotten.

These rude detractors speak not, we trust, the feelings of their nation. Time, the great corrector, is there fast enlightening both ruler and ruled. They are treading in our steps, even ours; and are gradually, though slowly, pulling up their ancient religious and political landmarks. Yielding to the liberal spirit of the age,

a spirit born and fostered here, they are not only loosening their own long-riveted shackles, but are raising the voice of encouragement, and extending the hand of assistance, to the "rebels" of other climes.

In spite of all that has passed, we owe England much; and even on this occasion, standing in the midst of my generous-minded countrymen, I may fearlessly, willingly, acknowledge the debt. We owe England much; —nothing for her martyrdoms; nothing

for her proscriptions; nothing for the innocent blood with which she has stained the white robes of religion and liberty; these claims our fathers cancelled, and her monarch rendered them and theirs a full acquittance forever. But for the living treasures of her mind, garnered up and spread abroad for centuries by her great and gifted, who that has drank at the sparkling streams of her poetry, who that has drawn from the deep fountains of her wisdom, who that speaks and reads and thinks her language, will be slow to own his obligation? One of your purest ascended patriots, Quincy, he who compassed sea and land for liberty, whose early voice for her echoed round yonder consecrated hall, whose dying accents for her went up in solitude and suffering from the ocean,

when he sat down to bless, with the last token of a father's remembrance, the son who wears his mantle with his name, bequeathed him the recorded lessons of England's best and wisest, and sealed the legacy of love with a prayer, whose full accomplishment we live to witness, "that the spirit of liberty might rest upon him."

EXAMPLE OF AMERICA.-C. M. Clay.

How many, like the great Emmet, have died, and left only a name to attract our admiration for their virtues, and our regret for their untimely fall, to excite to deeds which they would but could not effect! But what has Washington left behind, save the glory of a name? The independent mind, the conscious pride, the ennobling principle of the soul, a nation of freemen. What did he leave? He left us to ourselves. This is the sum of our liberties, the first principle of government, the power of public opinion, public opinion, the only permanent power on earth. When did a people flourish like Americans? Yet where, in a time of peace, has more use been made with the pen, or less with the sword of power? When did a religion flourish like the Christian, since they have done away with intolerance? Since men have come to believe and know that physical force cannot affect the immortal part, and that religion is between the conscience and the Creator

only. He of 622, who with the sword propagated his doctrines throughout Arabia and the greater part of the barbarian world, against the power of whose tenets the physical force of all Christendom was opposed in vain, under the effective operations of freedom of opinion is fast passing the way of all error.

Napoleon, the contemporary of our Washington, is fast dying away from the lips of men. He who shook the whole civilized earth, ——— who, in an age of knowledge and concert among nations, held the world at bay, at whose exploits the imagination becomes bewildered, who, in the eve of his glory, was honored with the pathetic appellation of "the last lone captive of millions in war,"

even he is now known only in history. The vast empire was fast tumbling to ruins whilst he yet held the sword. He passed away, and left "no successor" there! The unhallowed light which obscured is gone; but brightly beams yet the name of Washington!

This freedom of opinion, which has done so much for the political and religious liberty of America, has not been confined to this continent. People of other countries begin to inquire, to examine, and to reason for themselves. Error has fled before it, and the most inveterate prejudices are dissolved and gone. Such unlimited remedy has in some cases, indeed, apparently proved injurious, but the evil is to be attributed to the peculiarity of the attendant circumstances, or the ill-timed application. Let us not force our tenets upon foreigners. For, if we subject opinion to coercion, who shall be our inquisitors? No; let us do as we have done, as we are now doing, and then call upon the nations to examine, to scrutinize, and to condemn! No! they cannot look upon America, to-day, and pity; for the gladdened heart disclaims all woe. They cannot look upon her, and deride; for genius, and literature, and science, are soaring above the high places of birth and pageantry. They cannot look upon us, and defy; for the hearts of thirteen millions are warm in virtuous emulation their arms steeled in the cause of their country. Her productions are wafted to every shore; her flag is seen waving in every sea. She has wrested the

glorious motto from the once queen of the sea, and high on our banner, by the stars and stripes is seen:

EULOGY UPON HENRY CLAY.-J. J. Crittenden.

I AM to address you in commemoration of the public services of Henry Clay, and in celebration of his obsequies. His death filled his whole country with mourning, and the loss of no citizen, save the Father of his Country, has ever produced such manifestations of the grief and homage of the public heart. His history has indeed been read "in a nation's eyes." A nation's tears proclaim, with their silent eloquence, its sense of the national loss. Kentucky has more than a common share in this national bereavement. To her it is a domestic grief, -to her belongs the sad privilege of being the chief mourner. He was her favorite son, her pride, and her glory. She mourns for him as a mother. But let her not mourn as those who have no hope nor consolation. She can find the richest and noblest solace in the memory of her son, and of his great and good actions; and his fame will come back, like a comforter, from his grave, to wipe away her tears. Even while she weeps for him, her tears shall be mingled with the proud feelings of triumph which his name will inspire; and Old Kentucky, from the depths of her affectionate and heroic heart, shall exclaim, like the Duke of Ormond, when informed that his brave son had fallen in battle, “I would not exchange my dead son for any living son in Christendom.” From these same abundant sources we may hope that the widowed partner of his life, who now sits in sadness at Ashland, will derive some pleasing consolations. I presume not to offer any words of comfort of my own. Her grief is too sacred to permit me to use that privilege.

Henry Clay lived in a most eventful period, and the history of