proud ejaculation; and it will be the last gasp of her expiring life! Yes; others of our great men have been appreciated many admired by all;-- but him we love; him we all love. About and around him we call up no dissentient and discordant and dissatisfied elements no sectional preju

dice nor bias no party, no creed, no dogma of politics. None of these shall assail him. Yes; when the storm of battle blows darkest and rages highest, the memory of Washington shall nerve every American arm, and cheer every American heart. It shall relume that Promethean fire, that sublime flame of patriotism, that devoted love of country which his words have commended, which his example has consecrated:

"Where may the wearied eye repose,

When gazing on the great;
Where neither guilty glory glows

Yes

Nor despicable state?

one—the first, the last, the best,

The Cincinnatus of the West,

Whom Envy dared not hate,

Bequeathed the name of Washington,
To make man blush there was but one."

- LORD BYRON,

COMIC.

"YOUNG AMERICA" ON PROGRESS.

DOW, JR.

TEXT.-Drive on your horses.

MY HEARERS: The spirit of the age is drive ahead! If you upset your wagon, and spill your milk, keep up with the popular crowd, and leave the old, slow, careful coaches in the lurch. "Get out of the way, old Dan Tucker!" is all the go nowadays, musically, morally, and mechanically speaking. A flood is upon us that is fast washing all the old works of the old music masters into the dead sea of oblivion. The old heavy drama is too slow a coach altogether for the present day. A lighter and a faster one we must have-a regular trotting concern. Poor Shakspeare! his house is sold, and he has stepped out. His taper shines with a sickly glare in the misty moonlight of the pasta mere glowworm upon a dark and distant moor. Alas! I am afraid he was not for a time, but for all day; and it's now about to be all day with him. But good-by, Bill; I must drive on my horses, or take the dust of unpopularity.

My friends, we are a fast people, and live in a fast age. Perhaps you may say we are only riding down hill on a handsled: the more we increase in velocity, the sooner we shall reach the bottom; and then have to get back again the best way we can. No; the way is comparatively level, and the road is clear. All we have to do is to keep up steam, and push ahead-propel. When I speak of keeping up the steam, I do not mean that you shall fire up with that liquid,

9*

the effect of which is to "put a brick in your hat"— in other words, to intoxicate for thereby you may burst your boilers; but I have reference to maintaining that ambitious spirit of rapid progression, to which neither the everlasting mountains, nor the eternal hills, can set any bounds. Ours is already a great country, but we want to make it a big country. No pent-up Blackwell's Island shall contract our powers; but the whole boundless continent must belong to us. Republicanism, with his new, big boots, is bound to travel - and no power on earth shall say, "Thus far shalt thou come, and no further." Emperors, kings, princes, and potentates! get out of the way, for we are coming with our fast horses! Clear the track for Young America! We intend honestly to vote ourselves farms; but if voting don't get them, by General Jupiter Jackson, we 'll take them whether or no! Shall we lumber along the road, and allow other nations to pass us with a whiz? No, never!-our horses are fast, and we must give the world an awing specimen of their speed. Take care then, by Basil! we are running a race with Britain for Cuba; and if you do n't look out, you may get injured. We must progress advance expatiate till two-thirds of the globe is ours; and then if we are compelled to stop by some unforeseen circumstance, what will be the consequence? Why, we shall fall to fighting among ourselves, and be brought back to the borders of primitive insignificance.

My friends, the world plays us a great game, and every man must look out for his handful. For my part, I take my time, and cheerfully accept of what providence assigns me. But don't be guided by me-a pauper dependent upon chance.

Drive on your horses; keep ahead if possible, and let the laziest nation be the hindmost. So may it be!