There is something in the very name of America, when applied to the United States, which carries with it an inspiring influence,—an ideal of freedom and of true manhood. In referring to the incidents of her origin, in connection with the events of her subsequent career, it would seem that America is none other than a "child of destiny."

She was born amid the storms of a revolution, and commenced at birth to work out the great problems of civil and religious liberty. She has an abiding faith in herself, and believes it to be her mission to originate new views and discover new principles, as well as to try new experiments in the science of popular government. The greatest peculiarity in her character is that her past cannot be safely accepted as an index of her future; in other words, her past is not likely to be repeated. In fact, she does not wish to repeat or perpetuate anything that can be improved. Her political creed is as simple as it is brief,—the "greatest good to the greatest number;" and yet it is the most complex creed, perhaps, that ever existed, involving questions which have not been, and cannot be, satisfactorily settled.

America knows what she has been, but does not know what she will be. It is doubtful if she knows what she would be. She has several favorite watchwords, such as progress, freedom, and equal rights, and but few, if any, settled opinions. Her present position, unstable as it may be, is her standpoint of judgment. In attempting to achieve what she most desires, she relies on experiment rather than precedent. In her forecast consist her welfare and her political sagacity; yet she can no more predict than control her future. None but a divine intelligence can comprehend the extent or grandeur of her future.

One thing is certain, the rapidity of her career approaches railway speed. What impediments may lie in her track, or what collisions may occur, it is impossible for man to foresee. It would seem, however, that she is an instrumentality in divine hands; a nationality, whose task it is to work out the great problem of a just government,—one in which all political power is vested in the people, and exercised by the people for the common purpose of securing the greatest possible good to the greatest possible number. The right to live under such a government is a natural right, and should be accorded to every human being, the world over.

In all human governments there are, and probably ever will be, more or less imperfections growing out of mistaken theories, or arising from their practical workings. Though it may not be possible by legislation or otherwise to remedy every imperfection, yet there can be no political inequality which may not be so far modified as to extend to every citizen equal rights and equal justice. There is a natural love of freedom and of justice implanted within the human breast, which lies at the foundation, not only of the political, but of the social, fabric. This love of freedom and of justice is an instinctive feeling, if not an inspired sentiment, which ennobles the patriot, and converts him into a hero. When oppressed, the true hero smites his oppressor. This is a law of his nature—an attempt to redress a wrong—and therefore an element of human government. When a civil government has been instituted, positive law becomes the rule of right. But when nations differ, and diplomacy fails in its mission, there remains no recognized alternative for adjustment but a reference to the arbitrament of the sword. This final method of redressing national wrongs has descended to modern times from the primitive ages of barbarism, and when adopted, as often terminates in perpetuating the wrong as in redressing it. It is, to say the least of it, a method which is entirely inconsistent with the refined civilization of the present age.

There seems to be no good reason why an international code of laws might not be adopted by all civilized nations for their common government in redressing their grievances. If such a code could be framed and accepted, it would not only secure the just rights of nations from infraction as against each other, but would unite them in their mutual interests and sympathies by the indissoluble ties of a common fraternity. Then all differences and dissensions could be settled, as they should be, by negotiation or voluntary submission to arbitration; and then wars would cease, and rivers of blood no longer flow.

Nations, in their relations to each other, are but individuals, and should, as such, be subjected to wholesome restraints by some recognized authority. The proper authority would seem to be a representative Congress of Nations. This view of the matter is an American idea, and one which has been suggested by American experience. The assumption that every nation is an independent sovereignty, if not absurd in theory, is by no means true in fact. No civilized nation can live within itself and for itself, but must and will, in order to supply its wants, hold commercial intercourse with other nations. The productions of the earth belong to man, and are essential, whether of this or that clime, to his health and happiness, and will therefore be sought and distributed. Even the social relations of one nation with another are hardly less conducive to the general welfare than their commercial relations, especially since steam-power and the telegraph-wire have comparatively made all men next-door neighbors.

In these modern times no government which is not just in its administration can long survive without provoking a revolution. It is only as a last resort that revolution becomes an elementary right, and then it must succeed in order to be recognized as a right. Nations succeed each other as naturally as individuals, sooner or later. The interest of all, whether national or individual, is the interest of each. Hence mankind the world over should be regarded as a common brotherhood, entitled to the enjoyment of equal rights and equal justice as the legitimate sequence of their fraternal relationship. And yet neither in ancient nor in modern times do we find a perfect government. It is true, however, that we sometimes speak of our own American Republic as a perfect system of popular government; yet it is nothing more, in fact, than an unsatisfactory experiment. It is a system which grew out of circumstances, and one which changes with circumstances.

It was near the close of the eighteenth century when America began to lose her affectionate regard for her mother England. This change in her affections grew out of the fact that the mother evinced a sincerer love for money than for the welfare of her daughter. Remonstrance, though calmly uttered, proved unavailing. It was then that America for the first time gave indications of possessing a proud puritanic spirit that would not brook oppression. The imposition of the Stamp Act had incurred her displeasure; nor did an invitation to "take tea" restore her to equanimity. Instead of condescending to take so much as a "sip" of that favorite beverage, she had the audacity to commit whole cargoes of it to the voracity of the "ocean wave." This offence provoked England to take an avowed hostile attitude. America, still unawed, proceeded to beat her ploughshares and pruning-hooks into broadswords; war, with all its horrors, ensued. The result was that after a seven-years contest, liberty triumphed, and American independence became an acknowledged fact.

America had statesmen in those days who were men of pluck. When they signed the Declaration of American Independence, and proclaimed it to the civilized world, they took their lives in their hands, and so far as human foresight could determine, were as likely to reach the gallows as to maintain the position they had assumed. But fortune "favored the brave," and instead of ascending the gallows, they ascended the pinnacle of fame, and now take rank among

It will be recollected that our Pilgrim Fathers, on landing at Plymouth Rock, entered into a written compact which contained the germs of a republic,—principles which were expanded in the subsequent articles of colonial confederation, and finally were so developed and enlarged in their sweep and comprehension as to constitute not only the framework, but the life and spirit, of the federal Constitution, which has been accepted as the written will of a free and magnanimous people. In a republic like ours, the popular will, when clearly expressed, commands respect and must be obeyed. There is no alternative, nor should there be. As Americans, we believe in the Constitution, and in the "stars and stripes," and would die, if need be, in their defence. We also believe in ourselves, and in our capacity to take care of ourselves. This great fact is sufficiently illustrated in our past history as a nation.

When her population was but a small fraction of what it now is, America not only compelled England to acknowledge her independence, but also compelled her, in a subsequent war, to acknowledge the doctrine of "free trade and sailors' rights."

Ever intent on enlarging the "area of freedom," America next sent out her armies and took possession of the ancient palaces of the Montezumas, and finally settled differences by accepting the "golden land" of California, nor thought it at the time much of a bargain. And last, not least, she suppressed within her own borders, despite the adverse influences of England, one of the most formidable rebellions the world ever beheld, and succeeded in restoring fraternal harmony throughout the Union.

In the history of the world there have been many forms of human government, which have arisen at successive periods, and which may be classed as the patriarchal, the monarchical, the aristocratic, and the democratic. The last was originally a direct rule of the people, but from necessity and convenience has now become a representative government, chosen by the people, and controlled by their will and action as expressed through the medium of the ballot-box. The doctrine that "the majority must rule" is evidently based on the scriptural idea that in a "multitude of counsellors there is safety;" and yet this is not always true. Minorities are often right, and majorities wrong. What is right and what is wrong, is a matter of opinion, ever changing with the advance of civilization.

Take any form of government you please, and analyze it, and you will find that its vitality and its ability to preserve itself, are based on physical power,—a power to coerce; and when this power fails, the government fails, and either anarchy or revolution is the inevitable consequence. Yet the moral power of a government, though it may not save it, is not less important than its physical power. When both are exercised with no other view than a sincere desire to promote the public welfare, the government is pretty certain of being sustained, and simply for the reason that it is approved by a generous and healthful public sentiment. But let public sentiment become corrupted by the influences of aspiring demagogues, or by men who avow principles in conflict with the public interests, and no government, however pure and just in its inception, can long command respect, or preserve its authority.

Every nation has its representative men. America has hers. Cotton Mather was a Puritan and a theocrat; Benjamin Franklin, a patriot and a philosopher; George Washington, a great general and a model man; Thomas Jefferson, a true democrat and a wise statesman; Andrew Jackson, a hero at New Orleans, and a Jupiter in the Presidential chair; and Abraham Lincoln, a man of destiny, who crushed rebellion, and proclaimed freedom to four millions of slaves. These were the men of power in the hands of Divine Power; and yet they did not comprehend the sequence of their mission. Their achievements marked the age in which they lived, and will doubtless exercise a living influence, more or less controlling, throughout the coming ages of the civilized world.

Nations, as well as individuals, have their destiny in their own hands. It is the character of the individuals constituting the nation which gives to the nation its true character. America began her career by laying the foundations of her character, not in the sand, but on the rock of free schools, free churches, and a free public press. Without these institutions true freedom can neither be acquired, nor be preserved. They are the only legitimate nurseries of a healthful and vigorous public sentiment. Preserve these institutions, and the nation will continue to be free and prosperous and happy and powerful and glorious. And yet there may be corrupting influences growing out of the manner in which a popular government is administered, or growing out of the exercise and extent of the right of popular suffrage.

Indeed, it has already become a grave question how far it is safe to extend the right of suffrage. It cannot be denied that our American population is but an intermixture of different nationalities, thrown together by a common desire to become free men in a free land. Yet immigrants continue to come from the Old World, differing as widely in their political and religious education and predilections as in their language, customs, and social habits. It is this foreign element that makes our population what it is,—an assimilating, and yet an unassimilated mass. A five-years residence, under our present naturalization laws, entitles aliens to citizenship and the right of suffrage. When they have acquired citizenship, demagogues assume to be their best friends, only to deceive them and advance their own selfish aspirations. In this way the original peculiarities of the different nationalities are wrought into political subserviency, and employed as an element of power in securing the balance of power. It is in this way that the people are first corrupted, and then the government. It is in this way that we, as a nation, allow demagogues to educate the masses into a low and degrading estimate of what constitutes a popular government, and of what are its true legitimate objects.

The right of suffrage is clearly a political, not a natural, right. It should be exercised with wisdom, and only with reference to the "greatest good to the greatest number." The ignorant cannot exercise this right with safety, for the reason that they are not sufficiently intelligent. A certain degree of education should therefore be regarded as an indispensable prerequisite. A mere residence of five years in the country, without the ability to read and write the English language, should not be accepted as a presumptive qualification, though strengthened by an oath of allegiance.

There are some statesmen, as well as other persons, both in this country and in Europe, who are earnestly engaged in agitating the question of extending the right of suffrage to women, on the ground that women are citizens, and often own taxable property, and consequently have the same interest as men in securing and maintaining a just and proper administration of the government under which they live. While this is true, it is equally true that men are endowed by nature with more physical, if not more mental, strength than women, and have a higher regard for the diviner sex than they have for themselves, and consequently were created to be their protectors and guardians. In fact, the two sexes are but counterparts of each other. In Nature's arithmetic, the two count but one, and should be but one in heart and in life. But somehow or other, many of these counterparts get strangely mismatched, or are never matched at all. This is not a fault of Nature, but a defect in our social system. If it were considered as proper for women as for men to be the first to propose marriage, it would doubtless lead to the happiest results. But taking things as they are, the thought has occurred to me that it would be wise for the State to limit the right of suffrage to married men, for the reason that such men would naturally feel the deepest interest in sustaining a good government. Let the right to vote and to hold office depend on marriage, let the honors of State and of society be conferred on none but those who have honored themselves by assuming the duties and responsibilities of wedded life, and I doubt not that all marriageable bachelors would aspire to the honors of full citizenship, while marriageable women would soon find their proper places in their proper sphere, and the government become what it should be,—pure in its principles and just in its administration. America is in a transition state, and will in all probability continue to trust in the success of untried experiment, rather than rely on her past experience. But still there survives within the American breast a popular sentiment, which, like the magnetic needle, ever points to an unerring polar star. It is only amid clouds and storms that dangers arise, or become alarming. It is therefore important that the ship of State should be intrusted to none but skilful mariners. The pilot should appreciate the dignity of his position, and comprehend the extent of his responsibilities. Whether the "golden age" of America terminated with the outbreak of her great Civil Rebellion, or commenced at the date of its final suppression, remains, perhaps, an undecided question; yet there are thousands who believe that her golden age has passed, never to return. This may or may not be true.

It is hardly to be expected, however, that a happier age will ever arrive than that which existed prior to the Southern Rebellion. The people generally, both North and South, before an appeal to arms occurred, were characterized by a genial sincerity in the expression of their political views and in the recognition of their constitutional obligations, as well as in their ecclesiastical connections and social relations. They, in fact, felt that they were akin to each other, and regarded each other as a common brotherhood, having mutual interests in sustaining a common government,—a government which their fathers had framed, and bequeathed to them and to coming generations. In this genial relation, for nearly a century, the North and the South enjoyed uninterrupted peace and prosperity; and America took her position as one of the great and powerful nations of the earth.

It is to be hoped, however, that the result of the late Civil War will prove a "blessing in disguise," though laden with many unpleasant memories.

If we cannot obliterate the "dark spots" in the sunlight of our past history as a republic, we can at least cultivate friendly relations and a liberal spirit, such as will give to our future history a spotless character.

It now becomes a grave question whether the freedom of the emancipated slaves will prove a boon or a curse to them. As yet they cannot comprehend their relative position; nor can they foresee their ultimate though not distant destiny. As a race, they differ widely in their natural characteristics from the Saxon race among whom they have been diffused. They belong to Africa. The two races, being distinct in the conditions of their origin and physical structure, as well as in their temperament and tastes, can never harmonize as one people, either in their social or political relations, on the basis of a perfect equality. The thing is impossible, simply for the reason that the law of antagonism which exists between the two races is founded in Nature, and is therefore a divine law, which can neither be controlled nor essentially modified by legislation or education. In fact, a "war of races" has already become imminent, and must, when it does come, terminate in the expulsion, if not extinction, of the African race.

In the future of America there are mystic events which time only can disclose. "Onward" is the watchword of the living present. Every American believes there is "a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." The "almighty dollar" is his leading star. Hoards of gold and silver glitter in the distance. In acquiring wealth he acquires power. He knows that wealth is power; and hence the acquisition of wealth has become the ruling passion of the age. In other words, money supersedes merit, while moral honesty is held at a discount. Lamentable as the fact may be, it is evident that an unscrupulous desire to obtain wealth and political honors pervades all classes of American society, from the highest to the lowest.

In order to facilitate the accumulation of wealth, and achieve their ambitious aims, individuals consolidate their capital in corporations, and corporations consolidate themselves into overgrown monopolies. In this way almost every leading branch of trade and of manufactures, as well as railroad interests, shipping interests, and telegraph lines, are merged in corporations,—in fact, nearly all that remains of individuality is lost in corporationality. Of course the mere individual, however meritorious, becomes literally powerless unless recognized by a corporation. Though a trite saying, it is nevertheless true that corporations are "soulless," and therefore devoid of human feeling and of human sympathies. Among the most formidable of these monopolies are the railroad corporations, ever busy in weaving their spider-like webs over the entire continent. In discharging their duties to the public they seldom subordinate their own interests.

Almost every man of wealth in America is a stockholder in one or more incorporated companies, and will of course act politically, as well as individually, in accordance with his interests. Both the commercial and financial operations of the country are essentially in the hands of corporations. They in fact monopolize the banking institutions; and if they do not control, they evidently desire to control, the legislation and government of the entire country. Indeed, the time has already come, when in quite too many instances the popular voice yields to the corporative voice, while personal merit and qualification for office become questions of secondary importance. It is easy to be seen that corporative interests have become not only gigantic, but are engaged, with pick and spade, in undermining the very foundations of the Republic. If the people would preserve their equal rights, and enjoy the blessings of a free government, they must not only remember, but act on the principle, that "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty."

It is owing to the tendency of capital to combine its productive energies that working-men, as they are pleased to designate themselves, conceive the idea that capital and labor are antagonistic in their interests. Hence working-men, especially miners and mechanics, combine against capitalists for the purpose of securing higher rates of wages. In doing this, they resort to "strikes," violate their contracts, and dictate their own prices. If their terms are not accepted, they refuse to work, and the great leading industries of the country are crippled, if not suspended. A train of moral and physical evils follows, which are more seriously felt by the "strikers" than by capitalists. If movements of this kind are continued, the obvious result will be to drive capital out of the country to seek a more reliable investment. It is labor that produces capital, and capital that furnishes labor. The one must depend on the other. Their interests are therefore mutual, and both are entitled to equal protection; their relations to each other must necessarily be regulated by the law of supply and demand. There is no other law or power that can do it. If force be applied, it is certain to react. Yet the field is alike open to all. The laborer often becomes a capitalist, and the capitalist a laborer. What are known as "strikes," therefore, can effect no lasting good to any one. They are but elements of social discord, which demagogues seize and control for their own aggrandizement. In fact, "Trades Unions" are nothing more nor less than organized conspiracies against capitalists and the best interests of the country. If tolerated, the government itself is in danger of being ultimately subverted. It is clear that the tendency of these unions is to produce disunion. They have already become so formidable in numbers and in political influence as to render it doubtful whether any legislation could be obtained, or military power enforced, which would either control or restrain them in their action and ultimate aims. In view of this state of things, it would seem that the time has come when the American people, as a nation, should pause and "take the sober second thought."

It is often said that the world is governed too much. But so far as this country is concerned, the reverse seems much nearer the truth. Our government is presumed to be the creature of public opinion. In theory it is so; but in practice we generally find that what is called public opinion is manufactured by a few scheming politicians, through the instrumentalities of packed conventions and a subservient public press. And hence candidates for office are selected with a view to their availability rather than for their known capacity and integrity. This failure to select the best men of the country to govern it, and administer its laws, has already resulted in degrading American character by the corrupt practices which it has generated, if not sanctioned, in every department of government, whether federal, State, or municipal.

In fact, dangers lurk on every side. There is no safety, unless it can be found in the virtue and intelligence of the people. If in this respect the people are deficient, it is the fault of their education. The rights of citizenship should depend on education, and the masses, if need be, should be educated by compulsion. As it now is, the learned professions are regarded as the main pillars that sustain the social fabric. They in fact give tone to public sentiment, and erect the standard of public morals. The masses accept their opinions, and seldom question their accuracy; and yet the masses are often misled. The few corrupt the many. Hence it is that we so often see the lawyer, the doctor, and even the clergyman, swayed in their action by political incentives; and especially is this true of professed politicians and official dignitaries. As a matter of course, public sentiment becomes demoralized, and almost every species of fraud and corruption comes to be regarded as quite respectable. If for this state of things there be a remedy, it is only to be found in our public schools and in the moral teachings of our churches. It is here that the work of reform must begin, the sooner the better. It should begin by re-laying the foundations of the Republic deeper and broader, and with principles as solid and permanent as the masonry of the everlasting hills. When this great radical work has been accomplished, the threatening clouds which now cast their shadows over our national future

While in the tendencies of the age we see much to admire, we also see much to be regretted. In a word, there is too much friction in the complicated machinery that spins and weaves the web and woof of American character. In religion, morals, and politics, wide differences of opinion are to be expected, yet they should be honest. While a free public press may be regarded in theory as the "palladium of American liberty," it seems to proceed practically on the belief that its own interests are the public interests. Especially is this true of the political press. Money, instead of principle, is too often its guiding star. By its influence, men in office and out of office are made and unmade at pleasure. And this will ever be the case so long as editorial utterances are accepted as oracular. And yet there is hope, and perhaps safety, even in the freedom of our partisan prints, so long as they continue to expose the falsities of each other, whatever may be their motives. If, as in China, the head of every editor who knowingly publishes an untruth were demanded as a forfeit, it is to be feared that gentlemen of the "tripod" would soon become "few and far between" in this broad land of the free. Yet the newspaper is the controlling power of the government, and the mouth-piece of public sentiment. Editors should therefore appreciate their responsibility, as well as "take the responsibility."

Though rotation in office may be regarded as a wholesome principle in the administration of a popular government, it is evident from the history of the past that frequent elections tend to disturb the peace and harmony of society. One political campaign scarcely ends before another begins. Especially is this true of our Presidential elections. The spirit of these elections extends to all our local elections, and often renders them equally bitter and intolerant.

These are growing evils which seem to threaten the stability of the Republic, and which require the application of a radical remedy. In the first place, the right of suffrage should be made uniform in all the States, and extend to none except citizens who can read, write, and speak the English language. This must be done, if we would preserve our American nationality from a confusion of tongues and the contamination of disloyal principles. In the next place, the President should be elected by a direct popular vote for a term of eight or ten years, and be rendered ineligible thereafter.

If provisions of this character were incorporated into the federal Constitution, the President would have no other motive in the discharge of his official duties than a desire to make for himself a good record; while professional politicians would disappear, and our county be saved from the demoralizing influences of a constant partisan warfare.

In regard to the Presidential question, the keynote is usually sounded by the friends of the administration, who wish to retain its patronage, or by opponents, who seek to overthrow it for the sake of the "spoils." Though candidates for office contend loudly for principles and reform, it is evident that with many of them the public treasury is the centre of attraction. It is true, however, that there are some honorable exceptions,—some men who are influenced by patriotic motives, who love their country and desire to promote its real welfare, and who would rather "do right than be President of the United States."

In a government like ours, which is essentially partisan in its character, there exists a manifest want of promptitude in the exercise of its central power. In other words, it takes a republic too long to move and execute in a crisis. It is prevented from doing this by the popular trammels which environ it. And yet it is often as difficult to ascertain what is the popular will as it is to comply with it. For this reason it is often a slavish fear, rather than a sense of right, that controls the administration of the government. Even our best men, when placed in power, become so sensitive to public opinion that their moral courage "oozes out at their fingers' ends." They see lions in their path, and therefore fear to do their duty. So long as a love of office, rather than a love of country, influences the action of the politician and the statesman, there can be neither strength nor stability in the framework of democratic institutions. For an illustration of this, we need only appeal to the histories of Greece and Rome. America has produced, however, many model men, and doubtless will produce many more of a like character. It is men that we want,—men of nerve and pluck, as well as men of wisdom, not only to enact our laws, but to administer them. All conspiracies of one class against the rights of another class, or against the rights of individuals, should by Congressional enactment be declared crimes, and the perpetrators promptly punished, no matter by what name their associations may be known. It is the prompt enforcement of criminal law that gives it moral force and overawes the offender.

It is impossible to predict the future, except as we see it from a standpoint of the present. Hence it is, perhaps, that we apprehend dangers when there are none. Yet we know that the elements of dissolution are incorporated into the very material that constitutes the universe. And so it is with the nations of the earth. The law of change is universal. It affects alike both the moral and the physical world. In his desires, man, as an individual, is insatiable; and so are nations. It is a prominent trait of Americans to want territory, and to acquire territory. They must have elbow-room; but the misfortune is, they do not know when they have enough. It seems as if they aspired to grasp the world and to govern the world.

It is doubtless true that we, as a nation, have already acquired too much territory. The result is, the government has become unwieldly, and the danger great that it will break down, sooner or later, of its own weight. So vast is the national domain, and so various is it in its climate, productions, and population, that its central power cannot so legislate as to do equal justice to all interests, and at the same time harmonize the conflict of public sentiment. This state of things had its influence in producing the outbreak of the late Rebellion. For grievances of this character there would seem to be no other remedy than that of revolution.

We can but hope, however, that the States now known as the United States will continue to increase in numbers, and to harmonize as one people, one nation, and one government. Yet it is quite possible that the time will come when they will sever into groups and become independent of their present federal relation to each other, in accordance with their peculiar sectional interests, "peaceably if they can, forcibly if they must." Then, instead of one, we shall probably have several independent American confederacies, whose future boundaries are clearly indicated, not only by differences of climate and productions, but by Nature, as marked by her great intervening rivers, lakes, and mountain ranges. These confederacies, when organized, will doubtless consist of those groups of States now known as the Eastern, Western, Southern, and Pacific States.

In addition to sectional interests and geographical differences, there are other considerations tending to induce a division of the Union. Among these are an almost unlimited number of political aspirants, and a rapidly increasing population. In Europe, and in many parts of Asia, an overgrown population, in connection with geographical differences and tribal distinctions, is doubtless the original cause which led to subdivisions of empire, and the establishment of so many petty kingdoms as now exist in those countries. The same causes are evidently at work on the American continent, and must ultimately produce similar results. In little more than a century our population has increased from seven to sixty millions. In the next century, at present rates, the increase from natural growth and the influx from foreign emigration will in all probability approximate two or three hundred millions. Europe alone, judging from present indications, will transfer to this continent within that period a large share of that number. If this be assumed as worthy of credence, is it not time that we, as American citizens, should look ahead, as well as go ahead, and if possible, preserve our national character?

It is true that an intermixture of foreign blood with American blood may tend to develop a higher order of manhood; yet when we go so far as to permit foreign languages to be taught in our public schools at the public expense, as essential to an American education, and that, too, at the dictation of denizens whose education and predilections are in conflict with our own, have we not reason to fear the ultimate results? If this insidious influence of foreign growth be allowed to control our educational system, it will not be long before we shall adopt foreign habits and sentiments, and lose forever our American nationality.

If America would be true to herself, she must preserve not only the purity of her principles, but the purity of her spoken language. If foreigners choose to become American citizens, they must expect to become Americanized in language and sentiment, as well as accept our form of government. We want no foreign element incorporated into our free institutions which does not harmonize with them. In a word, we want no union of Church and State, no "confusion of tongues" in our public schools, no aping of foreign manners and habits, no foreign dictation,—nothing but pure American freedom and pure American principles.

It is in this country that Church and State, for the first time in the history of the civilized world, have been separated, and allowed to conduct their own affairs in their own way, and independently of each other. So far as experience has gone in this respect, it proves the wisdom of the policy. And yet there are many statesmen, who, in reading the "signs of the times," think there are reasons for believing that the priesthood have inherited their ancient love of civil power, and are quietly endeavoring, in various ways, to secure such a degree of moral power over the popular mind as will, in effect if not in fact, transfer to them the control of the civil government.

If the priesthood are to control the government, it matters but little whether it be the Catholic or the Protestant. Catholicism regards the Church as supreme and the State as subordinate, repudiates public schools, and trains her youth in the Church and for the Church, thus preparing them to become not only adherents to the faith, but "soldiers of the cross;" while Protestantism asks the recognition of God in the Constitution, urges a fraternal union of all her various denominations, with a view to concentrate and direct their moral force, and even goes so far as to discuss politics in the pulpit,—thus attempting to control the results of our popular elections, especially when great moral questions are supposed to be involved. In all this there may be no insidious design; but facts carry with them a degree of significance which ought not to be disregarded. If a "religious war" must come, it will be a fearful contest, and one which must result in the subversion of free government, and finally extinguish the last hope of every true philanthropist.

And yet, as a people, we need never "despair of the Republic" so long as we sustain free public schools and confide the government to none other than an enlightened and philanthropic statesmanship. If America continues to respect herself, she is evidently destined to wield, not only the moral power of the world, but to complete the civilization of the world. Inspired with a desire to ameliorate the condition of mankind the world over, she annually expends millions of money in advancing the cause of a true Christianity. So inviting are her free institutions that she is rapidly becoming a central nation in point of wealth, talent, and population, as well as in moral and political influence. It should be her pleasure, as well as aim, not only to perfect her own government, but to diffuse a knowledge of her liberal principles throughout the world.

In reverting to the history of the past, we see that nations, like individuals, have their career, succeed each other, and finally become extinct. On this continent the red race has been rapidly succeeded by the white race. Whether a still higher order of man will succeed the white race, is a question which time only can determine.

Nature is provident, and like Divine Providence, works in "mysterious ways," and with an aim to achieve ultimate results. What America now is, we know; what she will be, we know not. It is devoutly to be wished, however, that her career may continue to be characterized by great and noble achievements, and that her "star-spangled banner" may forever float in triumph

CAREER OF REV. JOSEPH BADGER.