The New York Herald Newspaper, January 7, 1853, Page 7

THE LECTURE SEASON, Lectures of the New York Historical Society— Ren, John A. Dix on the City of New York, its Growth, Destinies, and Duties, The fourth lectare of this course, for the bencdt of the Fireproof Building Fand, was de- Hivered last evening at Metropolitan Hall, dy the Hon. Jobn A. Dix, on the above subject. Phe lec- turer was introduced to a very numerous audience by the Preeident, Luther Bradish, Esy., and said :— Me. Paearent, Lavis anp Gert. MBN :— At the opening of the series of lectures in which T have been requested to take part, you were ad- dressed with great eloquonce and forca on the eul. | tare of art, with o special referenve to this city. So far as the application is concerned, I propose to foi low the example of the distinguished spoaker, but in & much more humble sphere. I shall, with your in dulgence, devote the hour allotted to me to # brief review of the growth of this eity, some glances into the future, to see, if we can, what are its probable destinies, and the disoussion of a few topics of de- mestic interest and social duty. It is » remarkable circumstance that the Hol- landers who laid the foundations of this eity, should have foreseen, more than two conturies ago, the commercial pre eminence to which it was destined. In Bept., 1652, forty-throo years after the landing of | Hendrik Hudson, the directors of the West India Company, ina letter to Peter Stuyvesant, the Di- rector General, urged on him the importance of pro- moting commerce with the settlers in New Wogiand and Virginia, by which means, they say, ‘“‘must the Manhattans prosper,” and their trade and naviga- tion flowrisn. ‘Fer when,” the Jetter adda, “these once become permanently established—when the ships of New Nether!and ride on every part of tho ocean—then numbers, now looking to that coast with eager eyes, will be allured to embark for your island’ If these sagacious adventurers could have looked forward to the changes which the lapse of two hundred years has wrought, their language could hardly have been more prophetic, or deseri tive ofthe reality. Great discoveries, it ja trae, have been made in the application of physical po vers to the practical ures of mankind, which wers not, at that day, revealed to human foresight. Tho lux- nries which always follow in the train of commerce, the resietless power of our enterprise, the manifes- tations of industry in an endless variety of forms— | the genius with which architecture hay olaborated this hall—ail denote a spirit of developement ia sivi- lization and in art, which no vividnoss of tho imagi- nation would have attributed, even at this day, to the wilderncee, on the skirts of which this feeble and precarious lodgmont had bean mado. Indeed, it was not until tho United States had thrown off the colonial shackles by which the spirit of their enterprito was repressed, dnd the oontral government had given strong evidence of ita abilit; to sustain the weight of the system it was designe to uphold, that tho elements of this olty’s growth becamo fully developed. Since that time its pro- prs has had no parallel in the history of modern | st peaveinent : ‘ifty years ago Canal street was cntirely beyond the settled precincts of the city. Tho place of ptblic execution was in Franklin street, salected, as all | gach theatres of the vengeance of the law were at | that day, on acoount of its distanoe from the abodes of the people, and the busy haunts of commerce and industry. Thirty years ago the spot on which I stand, was an unoecupied space, far from the bustle and the activities of the town. Now at least cight of the twenty-two ‘square miles of surface which the island contains, are covered, the population has ricen, in half a csarary from 60,000 souls to 550,000, andis increasing with augmenting rapidity. A quarter ofa century ago, ins pamphlet which I wrote while a student at law, on tho Resources of the City of New York, I expreaned the beliof that in 1878, twenty-five years hence, the inhabitants would number nosrly a million and a half, and that the whole island would be covered with dwellings. and buildings devoted to trade, the mechanic arts, and the various ether uses which a large commer- cial population requires The estimate was, by most persons, thought ox- travagant at the timo it was mede, and was, by many dorided as a wild and anwarrautab!e spscula- | tion of eur laws is to dissolve tho scsumulations of | juster feeling has become universal, and children are der on each other for a distanoo of more y {in all respecte th rate ost reots are not respecte the same, thoy are ooin- fn some remarkable foulars. Indeed, |. theré is, in one respost, 60 striking an adjustment of her capabilities to our its that there nover can boin the commercial relations of the to States, any otherrivalry tham an honorable and beneficial competition I refer to the inexhaastible and ines timable wealth of her coal ficlds, which are indis- peneable to the prosperity of our commercial metropolis Not only the eity of New York, bata large number of our counties, with a population of a million and a half souls, and increasing rapiJly, are dependent on ber supplies of fuel for their com- fort. Tt is a curious geological fact that the instant we reach the northern boundary of Pennsylvania | from her interior, the go#l measures disappear ! | Nota trace of this great article of necessity is to | be found on our side of the line, What makes it | more singnlar is that this boundary is a mere gtatis- | tical demarcation, not marked out by any great | natural division—not following » water course, or a | mountain chain, but traversing both rivers and | bille by a line parallel to the equator, May we not | | regard it as one of those arrangements of Provi- dence, which, in our oan or our presumption, we are too apt to ascribe to blind chance ? say, may we not wane it as an arrangement of Provi dence to bind inseparably to each other these two great States (constituting, as thoy do, the heart of the American confederacy,) and to give thom the influence they may possibly need, in the progross of | events, to maintain-the integrity of the Union, by y holding togetheri in the eame bonds of friendship the other associated States ? Heavy responsibilities, grave questions of social and domestic duty grow out of our commercial pre emi- nenes. Extraordinary aggregations of wealth. un- leas rightly employed, are never desirable When thoy are the ministers of luxury and extravagance Ser misdirect industry, pervert the publio taste, and endanger the purity of society and the safety of the government. This is the great danger we have to guard against. It is the greater ans t) chief security of our free institutions has alw: been deemed to rest ossentially upon the mainte- nance of a simple and economical goverffiment. I do not believe it to be possible for such a govern- ment to be continued in existence for any length of time, unless the socigl spirit conferms to it. A luxurious and extravagant people eannot maintain @ simple and frugal government. No matter with what safeguards it may be surrounded, they will bo silently relaxed until they conform to the sovial con- dition of the people. Private profusiom comes first, next corporate extravagance, and las ofall public corruption This, then, is the great duty which | devolves on us—to make the spirit of the social conform to the political srepisation, and main- tain both in simplicity and economy. I know it ia @ very difficult duty whero wealth abounds, and draws after it the temptations to profuse expenditure, with which it is always bo- set. But Tet us hope that it is not impossible. Certainly, the most superficial view of our social organizatien should be sufficient to indicate the folly of all private extrapagancies which poral of the character cf permapent investmonts ‘he most common manifestations of lavish expendi- ture at the apes moment is in eestly private dwellings. ‘e have, like Genoa, our streets of Satake but without her apology for them We ave no orders of nobility, mo permanent ostates, to support large establishments Private fortunes ara exceedingly evanescent with us. Tho regular opora- woalth which aro the fruit of successful enterprise There are very few instanses in which property re- mains in a family beyond tho seoénd or third gonera- tion Our forefathors aboliched rules of primogeni- ture, because they considered thom inoonsistent with the genius of our institutions. The spirit of the community has eonformed to this view of seoial duty, and no man thinks of leaving his property by will (as he may) to one child, for the purpose of keeping upa large establishment A endowed equally with the ancestral goods, or at least im proportion to their respeetive elaims or merits, as the ancestor appreciates them. Under these circumstances, nothing can be more unwise than the erection of costly dwollings, which can only be maintained by pence fortunes. At | the death of the head of the family, aud the di- vision of the aneestral property, no one of the | children, psa general rule, has enough to aupport the | establishment, and it passes into othorhands Noth- | ing can be more oruel to children than to bring them tion. And yet it has beon thus far outrun by the pro- gress of the city.. All past estimates, however un- mappa they may haye appeared to be by sober culations, are more laggards in the race which | Wo are running against time and the impediments to human progress. It is not probable that I shall live te see my prophecy falfilled, but there are, no | doubt, many within the sound of my voice whe will. Betting apart the spaces needed for squares, resor- voirs, railway appurtenances, shops, warehouses, manufactories, and public edifices, and the island will not conveniently contain more than a million and ahalfof peop. But this is by no means the limit of its growth. Its population will flow into surrounding spaces The process has already com- meneed. It has crossed the East river, the North iver, and the Harlem. Brooklyn, Williamsburg, Jersey City, and Morrisenie, are all dependencies of the groat metropolis, and, for every practical purpose, parts of it. A circle, with a ra- dius of four miles in extent, and with its eontre at Union square, will now enclose seven hundred and fifty thousand people If the popalation of the city and the surrounding districts referred to, incre! as rapidly during the next twenty-eight years ag it has during the iast re pe e, it will number in 1865 a million and a half of seals, and in 1830 three millions. ; If our poacofal relations with other countries con- tinue uninter:upted, I see no reason why there should be any obeck to this inoreare The rapid improve- ment of the country, the extension of our commeroo, the tide of immigration, the numborleas lines of communisation pointing to this city as to a centre of radiation—ail combine to confirm, and, indeed to acoellerateitsgrowth In the pamphlet referred to, published in 1527, i remember to have stated that the inhabitants of the States of New York, Ohio, Indiana, and [linois, and of tho territory of Michi- gan. whore icdust ‘as subservient to the commer- cial interests of this sity, and cabercans on it for foreiga products, numbered nearly a million and » balf of souls; and [ estimated that the number would, in 1849, amount to nearly three millions, and in 1878 to more than Sve millions and a half. This estimate has already been vas ly exceeded by the resvlt. Taking tho same basis, modified by the railway communications which bave been opened to tho ity, aud the population of interior districts now de- pencent upon ns for their commercial supplies, can- not number less than five millions and a half—about equal to the number estimated forthe year 1875 Wo are a quarter of s century in advance of this estimate, and with no apparent limit to the growth of the dis- tricts thus connected with us. This extraordinary extension of the internal trade of the city is dus, ta some dezres, to railways, which did not onter into the estin.ate of itr increase twenty five years ago, because they bad not then been introduced into thia State. Our communication with Lake Hrie, and the agricnitural supplies it reoeives frbm the North- western States. ow more speedy and more oer- tain ti our course was With Nutchess county fifty yearsago. Five hundred miles are now more pe i and apeedily overcome, both as regards tr: el end transportation, than fifty milee were at the eommencoment of the presentcentury. One of the is of these fasilities of intercourse is lace the products of the interior of this State neighboring States at tho very outskirts of the city, and to bring the immense variety of the pro- ducts of other countries, which centre here, into virtual contact with the interior. Who skali are to assign limite to this exten- sion? London, with far inferior capacities for oom- merce, fercign er domestic, has a population of two millions ands half, eproad over & surface of forty uare milet With tho farther advantage which lew York possesses, a8 @ general mart, to some extent, for the whole Union, thore is no reasou why sho may not go far boyond the British metropolis Thero is another clement which ie destined to etioal exert a fol iaflacnse on her growth By means of the warchousing systom, yet in ita in- fanoy, she is rapidly becoming a mercantile depot for the Wee hemisphore, The foreign products which are destined for consumption on this side of the Atlantic ho deposited here for distribution, and thus put largely into requisition our industry and eapital This accumulation of men and of commorcial wealth must bring with it auother consequonce of equal signific co and efficacy. Now York, with all these advantages, cannot fail to bacome, at no dia- tant day, tho centre of the pesnuiary a3 well as the comitercial exchanges for this continent, and per- haps, for the we Suob a consequence is almost inseparable from a dectded ascendancy in commers Motoy, the iv eut of commerce, into the chau. mort extended ho produs foreign indust*y, they will come hore for distribution, etimmiating our enterprise and facilitating commercial ex- changes Jum sure I epoak sho sentiments of every person here present when I say, tthe great prosperity of oar own has not made us indifferent to that of others. iphia, Baltimore, Charles ton, and New have their commercial offices to porform ia their reepective sphoros, aud there is work ongagh to ke done on this continont to keep us all actively and bone ity employed When the consay of 1850 apprised us that our industrious and ¢ getis neighbor, Philadelphia, sumbered over four bundred thousand inaai tants, and waa following us eloaely in enterprise and wealth, I am eure there was no other fooling ut of gratifontion at hor preaperity. Betwoon fenneyivazian and Now York théve must aivays be ® olozo sud familior association. We bor- up with expectations which cannot be fulfilled, and with habits “of life which they sre compelled to | abandon. The parent, jor the snke of a fow yea: of ostentation, investa a large portion of his es' in a splendid dwelling, with the certainty that death will be the signal fer the expnision of his ehildren from is. Nothing oan be more inconside- rate if it is dono without reflection, or more unfeel- ing if it is done with a full view of tho inevitable consequences. Look fer the splendid mansions of thirty years ago, and see what become of them Searcely one remains in tho family by which it wa constructed. They are boarding houses, places of public exhibition, or the workshops of fashion. The daughter enters the house of which her father was | the master, and chaffers fora Parisian maatilla or | bonnet in the sacred chamubor in whioh she drew her | first breath. In a large commoroial city, extending rapidly, the currents of business and fashion some- | times change, and bring with thom these conse- quences. But they are more frequently the result of other causes. Thoy are genorally the coasequen: of the inability of any one of the children to mai: { ' tain the patemnal mansion, with tho skara of the estate Whinh base feilve ow Wii. ae | Under these social disabilities, no man of fortune | should’build a house which any one of his children, with the share of the property 6 is likely to inherit, | will not be able to retain. If he does, the chances are ten to one that his descendants, before a single generation shall have parsed away, will be compsll- ed tb quit the paternal mansion, and do violence to all the endearing associxtions which connect them- | selves with the family froside and the natal roof. | Nothing can be more heart-sickening, if thia neces- | sity is met with sensibility, or more demoralizing to | the feelings if it is submitted to with indifference. | It has sometimes been said of us reproachfaily, that we have no local attachments—uo ancestral associa- tions, which endear to us the places occupied by thore who have preceded us in the journey of life. | Ina community like ours, ina state of rapid pro- and change, and in which the philosophy | rudesoe looks io the aistribution rather than the aecumulation of the proceeds of labor, localities are unquestionably apt to be loosely drawn. This is more especially true in cities, whore private residences are often forcibly expotled by the irresistible encroachments of commerce and traffic. In the broader spaces which the country affords, there is heppily room left fer the sanctity of local attachments, and for the cultivation of thoee asao- | ciations whieh oling to the epote where the bones of our ancestors repose, and where our own eyes, or those of our children, first saw the light j I consider it as one of the greategt seouritics of this city, so far as a cultivation of the secial affes- tions and virtues ia concerned, that it is so closely connected by railways with the rural distriots in its | vicinity. In one beur the man of business or the mechanic mag pass from the olose confinement of his office, his counting room, or his workshop, into the pure atmosphere of the country. The effect of these facilities is to Withdraw from the oity, durin, the genial seagons of the year, a large portion of its inbabitante—to take men away from the town, where thoy are busy only with their own works, and place them where they must neccsearily be conversant with the works of nature and of nature’s God. As the clear atmosphere of the country fe the beat purifier of the malaria of towns, so tho quietude and the simple oecupations of raral life the mort salutary and efficioat correctives of the oxtra- vaganee end luxuriows habits of the great oitios There is nothing eo full of hope andof promise for the purity and the invigoration of our social candi- tion. as the growing, I might almost say the provail- ing, disposition to escape from the bustle, the ehow, and tho oeremoniousness of the oity, as seon as tha genial seasou returns, and take refage from thom al] in the quiotnde, the simplicity aud the fresdom of the country. Indeed, large numbers of the work- ing classea have made permanent changes in their homes. No one ean go from tho oivy on aay of the great rallroads terminating here, without be. ing struck with tho number of villages whioh dave sprung into life within the last three yeare. They consist, for the most part, of cottages, each with its little gardon and graag plet, with hero and there a larger enclosure, answering better to the designatien of a field. ‘These new creations are the works of the mechanics of the city, who have wisely exchanged the oloss streets and crowded dwollicge, where spice and pure air are alike unattainable, for raral habita- tions where they can ey both They have their sebools and churches and their quiet neighberhoods, where their children may be brought up without being exposed to the contaminations of the town. What an imprevement is this upon the ancient estate of the industrious man—opon summer eren- ingsin town, when tho labors of the day wore over, passed in close apartments rately visited by a breath of pure air, or upon sidewathe, with pavements and brick walla, sending out in flery streams che heat they had accumalated while the wun waa npon thom. Now a railway takes him from his rural home in the morning to his work in town, and, after bis ten hours of labor, he reterae to his home again, and pavees the remaining hours of daylight in his gar- den, or site down with his family at his own porca, with the bosom of his mother earth anveiled be fore him, and with tho shrabe and flowers he has pi nted sending out freshnees and fragranca to soothe and invigorate him for the lahors of another day The healthy influence ef this now lifs upon tho mind, the moral affections, and the physical energies of the industrious olaases, is beyad all power of ap preoiation. ‘To the man of independent circumstances, who can afford to have a house in town and anotber ir the country, a similar change of life for a portion of the year at least, would be equally beneficial, under | to the test of strict architectural rulos | and purified. He kn: | Biive’ joauconed | imbued with the | designed for the all ite moral as well as its physioal ote. It is iad and pay: had +4 noenes | above all otber causes combined, has given to the higher classes in England aa intellectual and real vigor unknown to the samo olasses in m other eountries of Europe. Where the country resi dence ranks first and the town house eeoond in the seale of th fections—where the thoughts are, as it w beimed in the purifying influence: of rora! hero is no donee that 2 community will fall into deorepitude on the one hand, or dissolute ness on the other The moat seductive capitals and | the most demoralizing, so far as all elevation of thought is concerned, are those which concentrate all the attractions of life in themeelves, aud where | the districts by which they are surrounded are de- void of rural beauty. * __A rural residence, if it be simple and uapretend- ing, is one of the hest moral teasers to the inhabi- | tant of the town. If it have all the show of the | town house, and the luxurious habits of the winter are maintained in summer, he will gain little by the change. The most friendly wish to the wealthy would be that every family might have its cottage, where the ostentation ot equipage, the coremonious neces of fashionable attendance, and the luxurious habits of the city, might be laid aside fora portion of the year, and where children might be taught the salutary lesson (a hard one, when necessity is the first to teaca it,) that the palin of artificial life may be thrownoff without saerificing enjoyment or perronal dignity. The cost of halfadoson city en- tertainments would provide such am establishment, aad it would be repaid an hundred fold in health and intellectual vigor. Nature has given us around tho city a country singularly varied in its eutline, from the quiet shores of the East river and Bound to the ma Jestic sconery of the Hudson; and with one half the expenditure whioh is wasted upon frivolous em- bellishment, it may in twenty-five years be mado the most beautiful suburban district on tho face of the globe. In connestion with this subject, I eannot forbear to congratulate you on the marked improvement which bas taken place within the last twenty-five Phin in our domestic architecture. The era of ecian pedimonts and colonades for private dwell- ings is happily peat and, it is to be hoped, to re- turn no more ue substitution of the Norman, Gothic, modern Italian, and English cottage styles, isa great goin, both as regards convenience aad rural embellishment. The most simple of these forme are Always in best taste There is groat dan: | ger of running too much into ornament, and giviag & meretricious cast to our domestic improvements. | While in the city the provailing tendency to over- | load with ornament literally revels in stucco, an developes iteclf inthe most unmeaning chapos, in the country it runs wild in pinnacles, fantastio verge-boards, and in the endless foliations and floregoences of the medieval styles. Ail this is ‘a | tho worst taste. A chaste we vp adapted to our institutions, to the nature of our government, the character of our people, and the equalizing | irit of our laws, is demanded by overy considera- on of congruity, and every dictate of good sense It wore greatly to bo desired that some architect would give the rein to his genius, and, risi | above the tyranny of rules, would give birt to an American style—a style suited to our means, our tastes, our wants, and the pecu- liarities of our climate. The English cottage style, the most picturesque of all for rural arshitec- ture, would not be suited to us without ossential | modifications. We must have deep verandahs and froeces attics, to shelter us trom the scorching eat of our summer gun Our interior arrangements must have their moditications also, to arities in our social condition. No m equal to the work who is not thoroughly imbued with the spirit of our ma, and who not the strength to burst way from all the bonds with whieh tho Deli- lahs of fashion will strive to fetter his genius and his independence of thought. There is one sphere of embellishment in which there can ho no excess—in ‘the cultivation of trees end plants, and in tho enrichment by artificial cul- ture of the numberless forms under which exuborant nature manifests herself in the realms ef vogorable life. The simplest dwelling, surrounded by shade and verdure, is always attractive. It is in these ao- cestaries to rural architecture that the great charm | of the country in England consists. Her eountry | houses are very rarely faultless whon posi ins peoull- deed, they aro often ungraceful im design and rude in exesution But with the woodbine covering up the porch, and the ivy climbing up the gable, and the | eriel, and enveloping thom in verdure and in shade, Gy, havo # charm which no others possess. Such as these I should wish our rural habitations to be. Let the wealthy go forth from their luxurious city dwellings, and mako thomscives familiar with the beauties of nature, while there is time left to enjoy them Let them busy themselves in planting trees sround their rustic abedes, let them teach the vine where to entwine itself, and the shrub where to ‘ow and to flower. Lot their children mingle with them in these primeval occupations, the purest and | the most grateful which lifo affords; and thoy shal! | be stronger, happier and better men Their chil dren will grow up with juster viows of their respon, sibilities and duties, with more vigorous frames aud purer affectione, and with stouter haarts for the battle of lite No man can look out upon the animated na- ture, which is gathering beauty and strength from his fostering care, without feeling his thoughts elevated ows that hisown hand is labor ing with the hand of God, end that he himsolf, though but a ereated being, with limited capacities, is giving to th orks of thawAd ley won never houghte like these diminish tho distance between him and the author of his exist- ence, end strengthen the hope that there may be, when tie fullness of time eball come, a higher, a closer and a holier co-operation. oi But. ladies and gentlemen, I fear I am dwellin, too long v this branch of my subject. Before resign 11, 1 cannot forbear to direct your attention to a series of works on roral ombellisamente, which, by a painful dispensation of Providence —I ough: rather, perhaps, to say by the criminal reckleeness of man—has been suddenly brought toa close I mean the writings of the late Mr. Downing, of New- burg I know no works so well calculated to give | elevated conceptions of the dignity and charm of tural oceupations—aone which have done and aro doing #0 much for the embellishment of our glo- rious country. Nordo I know any whieh teach « higher or purer morality. lt is now understood | that another of the series, more extended, and far | surpaasing its predeoessors in iti beauty of its Wlustrations, was ina paration Under any cireumstanc: such a wan iam public bereavement. Coming as it did, it is still more deplorable. It is av irropararle loss The cougtry could better have spared more | than one ef ita distinguished statesmen, or jurists, or divines. Their places might have been supplied, | but bis is not likely to be m our day: It is only onee in an ago that a wan rises up se thoroaghly bg of his profession, and with the escred flame of art kindied in his broast by the brgath of heaven. ere is one subject of great interest, which was referred to by the distinguished gentleman who delivered the cpening lecture, and which, [ ata sure, my auditors will pardon we for presenting to them with greater teetit steeds Tt isa sabjoct on which Thevo bestowed some thought, and, in respect to which, I made, a few years ago, an attemp! ({ am sorry to say an unsuccessful one) to onlis; the oo operation of some of our wealthy eitizens. I moan the establishment in this city of an American acade my of art, the foundation of which ehall bo a colleo- tion of pietures and statuary, open te the onblie, | furnished with all the facilities which artiste require for study and improvemen: in their professions, and with schools of design for the gratuitous instruction of young persons without me: With the excep tion of public park of proper extent, I consider this nearly the only great want of the city. Popular education is auply provided for by public law The pieaching of rig is oxtended by the unassist- ed operation of the volantary aystem to overy por- tion of the city The sick are healed, the hungry fed, and the naked clothed by munitvent pabiie cheritiee. A noble library, already the most valua- | ble in the world in proportion to the number of volumes it contains, is about to be opened to the pab lic, aud will give to the namo of Astor a daration as lasting es the city itself. Another popularinstitation, Riba benefit of the industrious clasces, and endow ith the same priacely liberali- He will ensure to the name of Cooper an undyin, life. These institutions are, in some degree, local, though thoy are to be open to the whole American public. But an academy of art, eontaining epeci- mens of the best sshoole of painting, ancient and modorn, casts of ancient staiues, aud modern sta tuary of the most eminent masters, would become immediately a national institution. It would make Now York tho emporium ef art. Artists would flook to it from all section4 of the Union, and re- turn to the study of nature with a fall knowledge of aj] that the genfus of inan has done for the per- | fection of the processes by which she may be moat | faithfully and feelingly copied I be safely say thet no country which has hi life as ours has done more for art. But itis all the work of artiste Uhemeelyes, and the private onson- the doatn of | .ragement by which they have been gastained Neither the public nor the private wealth of tho country has come forward with any gieat or por- manent sehome of endowment for the enc ment cf Amerioanart It has struggled on unaid od, battling dauntlessly with all tho diseourage- mints which have beset ite pach, disconragements arising from the want of elementary instrucsion at home, and the rivalry of betier disciplined compe: titors sbrodd—and yet it has gained for somo of ite votarics an immortal name It was thought that such an inetitution as I have refered to, might be founded upon an extended in dividual subseription. Ihave abandoned all sash Jope It must be the work of soms one man—#ome one of our wealthy and enlightened oitizens like | Astor and bags aff who, under the influonoe of a good inspiration, all seo in the accomplishment of a | great publio work for the benefit of present and fa- | ture generations, a better motive and a higher fame brief ‘of the few hundred for it. I would not | thoe- ‘of such an instivution. T do not think less than four hundred thousand dol- lars would suitably accomplish it—one hundred and fifty thousand for the ground and the buildiog, an | equal amount for the hase of pictures and sta- tuary, and a hundred thousand more to be invested its annual wants. Thereare men enouga in this city whose fortunes would not be inconvement- ly diminished by such @ contribution, who may, in @ year or 4 month, in the order of human life, be summoned to surrender all they posuess into the hands of those who do not need it, or by whom it may be uecleesly employed. I believe no higher nicho remains to be filled in the temple of our sity’s fame than this—no work by which s man may mere certainly inscribe his name upon its loftiest pedi- ment— there to stand until the last column which eustaing it shall crumble into dust It is in establishments and institutions like these that the munificence of ae and ropublicans is best displayed. While all individual profusion is at war with tho epirit of the system under which we live. and ean only bring with 1t unmixed evil, pub- lio institutions for the elevation of industry and the perfection of art—inetitutions im which all can meet on the footing of equality inherent in our litical organization—are at once the conservative agencies and the glory of free institutions But it is time for mo to return to a topie to which I bricfly alluded at the commencement of my re- marks I mean the necessity of a practical eonfor- wity of the social movement to the principles on which the political organization is founded. I bs- lieve there is only one condition to be fulfilled in order to ensure for our system of government all | the stability of which humau institutions are ca) ble. It must be carried out in the spirit in which it was created. Society must not set up distinctions unknown to the system itself, and give them, by habit or conventional sanctions, an influence at war with it. We must not weaken what was designed to be secure, or introduce what was designed to be excluded. And, first, Jet it be distinctly understood that the law must be inflexibly maintained. I uso the term law in its largest sense, uot only as including what | has becn epecifically decreed, but as comprehending | the general order, on the preservation of which the | invielabi ity of all pts suthority depends. The law is the will of the pooplo,.constitutionally ex- | pressed Whoever arrays himeelf against it, ox- | cepting to prooure its repeal in the mode presoribed | by the fandamenta) compact, commits an act of treachery to the people themselves. The lawis the | basis of ‘all popular supremacy. It is the very fea- | ture by which free government ia distinguished | from despotism. To uphold it is ono of tho highest | duties which is devolved on us as freemen. It is | always possible that those who are entrusted with | its execution may errin the performance of their | duty. They may employ unnecessary, arbitrary, or | even wanton severity, in enforcing it. For ail this | they may be held to a rigid account. But no error | in the execution can impair the obligation to uphold | it. It must be understood, and without reserva- | tion, that the law is to be inflexibly maintained. 2d. Kindred to the inviotability of the law, is the inviolability of rights of preperty. Under our | system of government life is always seoure, except from private psssion, hatred and revenge, and | these the law visits with a rotribution which many r regard as incompatible with the humanity of the | age The inviolability of private property rests | gen the same basis as security to life. It is one of the leading objects of all:ocial eompaets. Life, | liberty, property—security to those is the great | end for which mon enter into society. We | believe it to be Projudiotal to the general intoréat that property shall be kept in masses by tho opora- tion of law. We have declared that children, in cases of intestacy, shall inhorit equally. We believe | that accumulations of wealth should not be made | permanent We have abolished entails. We beliove | that the distribution of property should not be | unduly restricted. We have provided thatthe abso- solute power of alicnation shall not be suspended beyond the period of two lives in being at the crea- tion of the state. All there provisiera are designed to distribute as soon as possible, without discoura- ging individual enterprise and induetry, accumula- tiops of property, which superior aagacity, good fortune, or accident, has created. None of these re- strictions are evasions of the rights which secial compacte are designed to secure. We may go far- ther, and assign limits to future accamulation, or to the investment of the proceeds of industry in partio- ular objects. These are questions of practical wis dom and policy, which may bo fairly settled by re- ference to their probable influence upon the general | interest and prosperity. But any regulation which | has the effect of rendering an existing tenure ins9- | cure or worthless, is & direct violation of one of the | great purposes for which we entered into society, | and must weaken the gecurity of liberty and life, by | impairing the fundamental obliga ions by whiob all | aresupported. This is a question in which the many have a far deepor interest than the few. The tens | illions which are held by large proprietors, are hing in comparison with the hundreds of mil- | dj distributed in smaller portions amongst the | great body of people. The security of all must stand | or fall together | 8d. The different members of the general society | must understand and be willing to do justice to | each other. External forms ot organization, rules of political conduct, do much. But the internal spirit which animutes the system and imparts its | Vital powers must be in harmony with its faeme) ‘Toterruption or shock from the astagouism of the | elements of which it is composed One of the | theories of our government is that all are politically | equal. We have redused tho theory to practice by | making sufirage universal. and public cmployments | and honors.acsessible to all Let us ferboar to set | up social distinctions which may practically affect, thouale certainly to a limited exeent, what political distinctions produce in other eountries. Lot us avoid, as far as in us lies, a1] which tonda to divide society into claeses—for a!l such divisions imply di- versity of interests, and almost always prodace iso- lation Social distinctions must of necessity be, in the highest degree, evancacent with us We have neither erders of nobility, nor permanent estates to sustain or perpetuate them, hey rest almost ex- clusively upon commorcia! wealth. and they par- take of ita vicissitudes and its instability. To seek to foucd distinctions upon wealth alone, where acoumulations of property are so trausieut, is not only vainly attempting what is unattainable. bat its tendenoy is to make wealth the object of pernicious | jealousios, and thus to inilict upon soviety 4 great publie evil. Absolute equality in the porseasion of property, a8 & practical condition of life, is but the dream of the enthusiast Navcure has so pronouneed it by endowing her children unequally But in the enjoyment of the comforts of life, sad in the means of | satisiying ail our necessary wants, the condition of men approaches much nesrer to equality than ie ge- nersily supposed We rarely consider how little is needed where there are no artifieial wants te disquiet us-how much is required in circles where eonyon- | tional exactions are the rule ofexpenditure. Misun- derstanding on this eubject—ignoranoo on the part of one poriaon of the community of the objects, de- airee, and wants, of other portions, lie at the foun- dation of all the jealousies which oxist between those whose condition ie unequal. This misunder standing thould be corrected—theso jealousies re- moved; and he who, instead of contributing wo ob- | jects of such vital importance, shail attempt to ex cite in one portion of the community prejudioss against another, should be ranked among the most | dar geroug enemies of the republiv I Gave slready spoken of divisions into clasees as undetirable and pernicious in their tendency. They carry with them the idea of opposite intercets. tion, separate action, alienation, jeslousy, o6f@, Opposition, hatred, ovllision, these are oy by which their progroas to maturity ia to be traced in other countries: Lot us, then, regard each ovher as members of s single association, standing in the seme rolation to the system, of which we area t, and baying none but eoiamon in'eres’s, Lot him who has littie property consider that those who possess it take with i¢ burdens and reeponsibilities from which he himself is exempt, bat they contribute is proportion to their posses: ions to the public expenditure, that their anxiotios wre incrensed; and that great wealth, as the expe- sRnoe of all age! attests, dose not contribute to augment the sum of human happiners 4) the other hand, let those who have much consid. that much ts required of them, that their possessions aro a sacred trust which will be best fuldliod by a |'be- raland confiaing regard for theso whom fortune has leas highly favored In a werd, gentlemen, sympathy and fraternal feeling must take the pla: of indifferenoe and distrust ip the intercourse of thoee whose condition is unequal. Organize society as you will, however correc’ form formulas, however wisely adjusted, the diferent parta o system, you cangot make it independent of the sions and affectidus of men.* [tis by enlightening and purifying these that the great ends of society are & be wrought out And finally, iollow oitizons, let us bear over in ro membrance, a6 a wotive to the fulfillment of our so- cial obligatigns, that we stand before the world ag the cbief representatives of free institutions. The reat features of thia continent seem to mark it owy fr the acoomplishment of Imbors and destipies of ~ corresponding magnitud ho Mississippt pouring into the ocean the majestic current it has aovam lated in ite course of three theusand miles-the Nia gare, collecting the waters of an inlaud ssa, aod precipitating them into another in @ eateract of igantic volume and hereulean power—the Roky Gesstein chain, pushing up its snowy summits to the heavens, with ite deep indentation, cat down almost to ite baso, and indicating a design as pal ble as if the Omniaciont Powor that crcated it had esid ‘ Through this pags thousands of yoors heuce, the railway whioh is to unite the Co ombia river with the Hudeon, shall bear the burdens of aso ciated continents and oceans.” A country strongly marked in ite physioal Hineaments, is a fit theatrs for the great experiment are making of the competeney of mankind to se/-government, and for the social developements which are_in here fuph & country, should Pree ore in the magnitude of fe improvements Though yet in its infancy, it has d iteelf, in all it has done, not unworthy the tinction. Pere La Chaise sinks into insignifi- cance when contrasted wich the sylvan grandeur of Greenwosd. The aqueduct which conveys the Cro ton river across the Harlem, compares well in the solidity and beauty of its architecture with the kin- dred work spanning the valley of Alcantara, or with those magnificent structures which, after the lapse of two thousand years, though now falling into till atretch across the Uampagna, and by the agency of which imperial Rome was perpetually re- freshed by the pure waters of her distant hills. For what remains to be done— for popalar institu- tions, on a scale co broad as to embrace her whole population, and to endow all with the capacities ne cesuary for the discharge of their social aad politioal duties—for the facilities which her industrious elagses require to prepars them for the exorcise of their various avocations—for the depositories of art, and the eaeny training which uro needed to call out genius and to refine the public taste--sho must leok to her commercial wealth. Her meroan- tile men have @ reputation as wide as the world it- self for their activity, the grasp of their enterprise, and their fidelity to their peeuniary engagoments. Under their influence, aided by the unrivalled energy and skill of her ship builders. her commerce ha: been pushed to the very confines of the habitable globe. Neither equatorial heat, mor polar froats, nor barbarism, nor the conflicts of ivittzed races, have constituted an impediment to the execution of their commercial adventures. In the beauty, the speed, and the internal arrangemonts of their ships, they have left all rivals at an immeasurable distance | behind. They have eccomplished all this by their own un: ed energies. hey ve not, like the mercantile classes in Eng- Jand, been aided by a direct trade with extensive colonial dependencies, from which, watil a very re- cent day, other nations were shut out. They Cy oast themselves apon the oeean, self-reliant and fearless, and entered into triamphant competition with the whole commercial world. Their boldness, their perseverance, and their success, have contri- buted, in an eminent degree, vo the practical vindi- cation of the great clement of freedom, as the true basis of international communications and ex- changes, and have had a powerful agency in com- pelling other nations to relax the vigor of their eom- mercial systems One more great truh remains to be asserted and verified by a stern adherence to the fundamental principles of our institutions in their social av well as their political requirements—a truth to which we should oling with undying faith —that extended commerce, social refinement, and accumulated wealth, are perfectly compaithle with public order, domestic purity, and mational strength. Rev. Henry Giles on “Man of the Age, or Mian of Social Power.” On Wednesdsy evening, Rev. Heary Giles, of the Btato of Maine, delivered a lecture on this subjest at the Broadway Takernacle, to a very rospoctable and very attentive audience. The lecture occupied upwards ef an hour and a half in the delivery, and @ full report is, therefore, incompatible with eur space. We must content ourselves with an outline The lecturcr eaid:—The man of this age we call the man of social power, whether worker, thinker, writer, or speaker. Labor is not the creation of ob- jeeta, but of utilities, and every one who creates utili- ties adds something to socicty—does work—is a worker. In this sense the writer and the speaker sre workers. But, for the sake of eonvenionoe, we shall take a view of that kind of labor that concerns itself with the more palpable realities of life The developement of man as a worker is a developement of the social power. The slave does not work as does the freeman, nor the man half free with the energy of the man who enjoys perfect freedom Bavage life does not develope tho social power ef man What one can do all can do; and each, with some exceptions, worke for himself. Interchange ot lite is unknown to savage life. To work for others is a stage of civilization in advanse of the savage condition, for man in a state ef nature will not wosk for ethers except by force, and for himself only by compulsion Every man enlarges his social life as he enlarges his activity. He becomes at length s contre of society—a lord, who enjoys the fruits of the labors of ethers, 15 is notin the labor market alwaye to hire ; he often wants te eck whomho may hire Thus, every man, inturm isa servant at tho feast, and no man is so Ciroumstanced th out any share in the feast. Thore was a time in Eu- ropean civilization when an idle class, whose only business waa pleasure, wae considered a necessity Buch a olaaa was considered one of the utilities of soetety But that day is gone by. As the aristo- cratic elass was once to Christendom, +o Chri dom is mow to the reat of the earth. But Chrisien- dom will carry humanity iteolf as far beyond its present state as Christendom is now beyond the pagan feudalism of «former age. Tae mental acti- yity of the present time is astonishing. It !# not that the several operations of nature are taxed our kind, it is not in the matter of the effect pro duced, but in the manner of producing it, that ue Saree! ergenaiey oul tual Ge STON, 88 ona te e~ mines of free individual men, that these great | results flow to the world The achievements of Eastern antiquity were but the products of slaves In their architecture, tho shaping of every brick of these etruotures so admired eomt many a pang to human beings, and the huge stones hewn from the quarry, and placed in the principal buildings of their great cities, wore at the expense 01 human life and liberty ; whereas when we look st the buildings of our modern cities, and at the fleets that ride in our Darbors, we feel that they are the Voluntary handiwork of free men; and iu this feeling consists the very soul of the majesiy with whioh they areinvested. 2he work of cur time is a work of utility, for the benu&t of the human race—the work of ancient times was eruelty, and for the destruction of the human race. The Noman Coliseum wat an instance of this. Tho work ef our ege is the work of peace--the work of sneient times wae the work of war, which was then the principal trade of man, all other trades boing contemptible Tne work of our age, moreover, is connected with digmity and respect. There is more real poetry in modern utility than in all (he works of the aucients; they are true epics of human ower, and chow the near approach of n to the Yreator Tho railroad, for instance, is a highly poetical ob, and the locomotive al vays fills me | With au iimpustioned poetical feeling ; and whoa i | gee the horse of fleeh p hing at the iron horse, ashe snorte away in his fiery carser, he always seems to | say, ** Well, my occupation ts gone” (Laughwer ) The activity of our age is not more marked in the pbyeieal thon in the moral world) The social oow- cref the time cevouils icself in the thinksr, who no longer ieoluces bimeelf from tne rost of the world. He finds thot the study of society, as it exists, ena. bles him to onderstand higvory, chronology, and mental scienee He thus studies the soul of maa, and diseovers connections and affinities thas other- wise would he lost to the wortd. The ograrian iaw | of the Gracchi was o puxsle till Nicburh, by tae simple power of his social sympathy, explained the past by the living mind Tbe sovial po wor is still more palpable in the subject of thinking thanin the mede of thinking. The men ve putlosophise in the present day ive their power irem their aym- pathy in expressing what the masses foel bat oan Rot utter The critical tendeavy v! our age is also remarkable. Everything is made the subject of in- vestigation Scciely itself ‘» made, by our great thinker, # comp i , and he lays dow rules for the r ion of the soeia! fabric. It is impractical, however, more tuan in energetic thinking, that the s vial power of the moders philo- sophor is mot cleariy acen. Vices that ware befuro considered past eure are now regarded with hopo and 48 remediable This power i* stronger than what Kogeuth attributed to phystoxl furce when ho said “bosonete think stronger than bayonets This power ie still moviag along, and nothing wn arrest its progress; as the stars shine, and tho worlds revolve over our heads | when we #:» avlecp, so the power of mind has com- von of Rome tinucd its operations from the foun nd it will till the erection of the ‘'rystal Palace, continue til! the last sylle ole of rogorded tims. ideal, eo called; has vanwhed from cur bay wor Chivairy has loft the face of man, aad the dollar is sinuped apon it (Laughter.) Wouaa, too, has lost the ideei, end even children are no longer horrified with ghost stories and hobgobling ho will have ali the labor with- | In | looking at the overwhelming, overpowering activity | for idoes and sentiments are | Tho 7 | Tma- | ginstion hae not ccared to be A queea, bul it has might as w sea shore ag the number of newspapers. reads it as soon as be swokes; and when am Ameri- can loses his taste for the segsr and the paper then may his friends despair of him But when we view that ocean of matter conteined in the newspaper ee what a picture does it give of the aetive teem- ng brain of tho man ef the age—the social man. The speaker is loss related to the time than the writer. The west has produced the publio speakor. The cast the prophet and the poet. The east ig The west is argumontative, disputations, impulsive, and outspoken. aly liberty eam gono- rate the public speaker, and it is only in Kbery that he can have avy place Tho modern speaker, except in the moral bearing ef his speeches, cannet for # moment be compared with the best orators’ the aucients The effect is different now. Forme, the orator was all powerfal—now the mamagesi; greater influence with the jury than the orator; 4¢ in Congress it is eaid that ie most brilliant epeee do not altar a single vote. Im ancient times); quence ruled 8% sovereign Every man thatood rule must of necereity be an erator. Tue reason wi _ oratory is not brilliant sow is from its extension and its general utility. It was 6nce confined to a single claes of subjecis—now it ranges all nasare, and scienco, and art. There was one form of it to which be wished to advert—he moant this sort of thing, the popular lecture holding. up the manu- script of his leeture ) It did not beoome him to oritioise it, to speak i] ox well ot it, but as a epe- eiality of the time he must tako noticeof it. It ranged through tho -vale of intellect, from sablimi- todrivel, and from the moet generous aims to the basest purposes—frem the chief menof the na- tion down to the seller of patent soap and the razor strop man. Tho popular lecture may be called su- erficial. It is exactly what ite author is, and what je can produce—just as apar‘iole in the Hmna.p or ‘Tribune, or magazine, or review. There are thiags better and worse than leetur Mrs. Grundy would say, (Inughter); and much 1b be said on both sides, as Roger do Coverley say. (Renewed insghiee.) It will, we suppose, be hence- forth a power inSaxoudom. "Public opinion is what gives power to the lecturer. Pablie o isa mighty foree in these days. On the whole, i ia beneficial. While it promotes progress, it eorreets eeventricities. Witheut this fermenting power the age would be given over to its sects and fanaticisms, and the social ‘abric would be continually in daager ofanarchy. It istho best guarantee against that individualism which would permit ne will but ita own. Public opinion brings intellect i under the soeial laws—a eupervision by whish it is watohed and made accountable to histery and humanity. It is thus @ wholesome reetramt In some cases it ig arbitrary, but it is for the most part deserved. Phe | tyrant, with his batteries and armies, may think himeelf secure; but brains will work, and detestation will find him out, and ali the eloquence in the world eannot scathe him as his own conscience will by the operation of public opinion Tuere is no eivilized men exempt from its influence It is the legislator—all the rest is mere babble. Some one has said that it is always with the minority; but this is only true as regards its first statement. Gali‘eo held that the earth moves and the sau stands; for which he was persecuted in his day, an¢ the world was incredulous; hat now there is nota child who does believe in this central i item. Thi jecturer then proceeded to illustrate from history the power of public opinion produced by thought The erusados were the result of a dotestations! seeing the holy sepulchre in the hands ef infidels By the operation of thought in the brain of a mont the panen of the Pope was shattered and broken and it was the same power which impelled the Pil- grim Fathers to this continent, eaused the subse quent revolution, and the foundation of a mye republic. The revolution im ranco, the most te ble the world ever suw, was produced by ballads and rhaj lies ©Such isthe power of thought and of publie opinion. The lesturcr eoncluded his ablo discourse amidst Joud applaase. ask him to count the pe 1 the Hebrews. The continuation of this lecture, by Migs Bacon, was delivered yesterdey morning, at the Stuyvesent Tnstitute, to a crowded audience She bogan by esying that ehe would direct their attention to- wards the influence of one of the shepherd races whieh inhabited Egypt They ought to distin guish carefully the influence botween those of the first ages and the lator periods. While the nations were yet in their primitive state of isolation, deve- | lopements appeared which have been inherited by the prosent eiviliaution, aud which ere very dif | ferent from the period when Christianity was ushered into the world. No euch thing as humanity exizted in those ages. All humanity which exists at the presont day is the production of snocoeding ages, for humanity had not yet dawmed oni world. The idea of humanity had not yeti¢ | panded. The greav preducts ef tho oarlier k rioal periods, show us that at tant time some pri ciple of unity existed amsne the masses, wht meda.thom.workes “rengions 40 Preyuaiy which existed at that time were exionaed | towards foreigcers. The Hebrews, notwithatand- ing their peculiar charssteristios, had their true God, avd their central idea of such nationality was religious. There is no nationality now which em- bocies as much of humanity as the national instita~ tions of thore ages did. The focling in those ages, whieh linked man to the world, andtheir reveronce | to God. distioguismed them from those nations | around them In the earlier aged, I have already | noticed the downward tendoncy of these people, in a religious point of view, produced by symbols. | But the Hebrews kept their religion pure,and read | exultingly the word of their God. The gods of the surrounding nations permitted the natural dewn- ward tendency ; they had made man wore than their na*ure ; they brought man down into a reli- jon lower “kan humanity Tao Hebrewa know | that their eligi ¥° uld triamph ultimately. ‘Phoy | looked with contem mt upon the pode of the mur- roundisg nations, and ‘Sc/t. ¢vil moral natures. ‘Tey knew that’ their rout would ultimately | triuinph, beesuse it wes oenneo. “2 With the eternal | law, when ali other natiens were’ overlooked. Lhey sbould read the books of the Old Tostament, | which fully explain the euhjeet to them, a4 wing | the Bible for that parpose wonld not decrease reverence for it Th: period when Moses wrow” | Was the century in whioh the old natiomalities ox- | isted, constituting the anrdeet barriers against hu- manity Atthieday there sre chaunted in op* | holiest Fest songs that wore composed by sb herds of the suepherd race We s'ruggle to into the spirit of those songs lu wy opinion, thet | was not such @ great dteredce in the wisdom ¢ the people of that time a: if thore of the preset Miss Bacon thes alluded to the great iate leot of the men of *4 and contrasted ty hi { receiving aida, thore ancient days and the manner in which a may | of the modern age received it The man of that ported, when be wanted help, would not send word jor it by telegraph, but would sing ono of the song: of those days, that wonid soften his enemy's heart. Religion came from the East, the land of abstrac- tion and philosophy ‘The religions of Europe have been from time imiceiorial We have no religion of our owa whioh ix worth seving. We sppropri- ale and retain religion now asif it were our own. She believed that the Angio Saxons thought thom- selves the fonuders of ‘he Christian religion They should remember ny ages that religion was teteblished “nth while we wore comtent with ihe Edda, e then prooceded with the his- ry of the Israelites p, eho said, were @ wan- | dering nation They weet into Ugypt for hefp, and the Egyptians kept ‘hem there againat their will The feraclites knew i Wae not their native place; they remem!in too, that it had been an- nounced by 9 prop © Yoiee, that there was a land where they could worehip their God anmolested. Thoy kr aw where Abraham had pianted his tents in bis wanderings and every place where ho had rested became boly to them While in Egypt, that ! | | ari. clime. they embered the fertile and beautiful lasts which had been promiaed They looked a nd of their fa~ | ther Abraham would be restores co unem = Thay | were devermined to beve thore lands, m spite of thoee who ocenpied them though they were supe- rior to them. both in eteture and physical strength; bnt when they found out ¥ d ey woul gone to servieo, ike ome of the beantiful ¢ in | bave us contend against, the the segar & hehicd the counter (Laughtor) | tole’ back to ¢ t So imucmection nas to the agreoable | of thoes who th in opby & philanthropy; | The time came wh they were led on by Moses; he pleasant by | them they wore fired wits ® religious feeling which os by fairy taiee Ima | could not find opp ogition, and their cinews were gimotian itself im this utilitarian age, | Ee rtime Moses know their oust be turned hei existence give R reason tor lis forbidden, Luxury of except so far agit will pay (Langhter ) this is | remmkable ia our periodionl literaturs. Lhe maga- ino hea fit @) 4 social mevemeut. The review baa suil mo { ita influence it wasa mere review of books—aow it fe depths of seience, and soare to its most eabling height. Che newspaper posresses the samme ui ive riauvebaracter .a@cill higher degree The news Pener, the dispenser of novelty, is that npoa whic’ Bovhing nove) oan be said Tt would be vasier to in vert anew pleasure for am Eastern tyrant than to cota 8 new term in which to speak of the newspaper press. Ouse great thinker has said thas the business of an oditor te thinking the sawe thing over it, however, uses not make much nvat- f the siraia is only turned (Laughter ) Tho world is doing tho sanis thing, aud the uews- paper je the Daguerreotypo of tho world. Pach seat hem — Their religious ha pitch thet the Fxodus Sgypt for the land the israglites alae re- vembered ¢ ed in Asia. Tha rere people i orthern part of the land wi had the same faith as themoelves; in Arabia, and the eaat of Jordan there we people who wot | closely allied to them. The inhabitants of it mowntaing which lie to the cast of the Dead se and the Ammonites on the as: of Jordan, wo alro of their kindred. Vor these facts she wow tefir thom to the book of Numbers, where they would find that the Israciites were not the only people that inspiration wae conveyed te. One of the grandest hirtorical pictures that could be paint- | of ther ance ed. hat representing the lsraclites spprosebin, the promised Jani. They ertered on the cast, a met ‘.h great vtruction trom the Moabites and Awimonitea, who wor & sottiod poeple, and did not *