Newspaper Page Text
GEORGIA JEFFERSONIAN
A iv »
tJitam.v u+ixtysrva:.
VOL. 111.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
BY CLINE Si GRIFFIN,
On the usual terms of three dollars per annum in
advance, or tour dollars nt the end of the year.—
Advance payments always preferred.—A subscriber
may discontinue at any time, by paying up all nr
jearasres, but uot otherwise, unless at the option of
the editor.
Advertisements, not exceeding one hundred
words, published at one dollar for the first insertion,
and fifty cents for eacii continuance. Larger ones
at those rates.
Legal notices, published on the terms prescribed
,I>.V law, with a liberal discount to Sheriffs and
Clerks, when payments are made promptly, but
not otherwise.
All letters addressed to the publisher must he
post paid.
From the New York Spiri! of the Times.
ROMANCE OP THE WOODS.
The Wild Horses <>/ the Western Prairies.
By the Author of ‘Tom Owen,’ and ‘ Bee Hunter.’
The head waters of the Atltnnsas and
Black rivers flow through u country abotin
ding in singular variety, with a high and
broken land and level prairie. Many of
these abrupt eminences spring up from the
I'ktyt, run along for a lew miles, and again
t disappear in broken rsdges. Standing upon
■•Jons of these eminences, ii it is u favourable
season of the year, the eye Is greeted with
a sight of life ill the spring time of exis
tence as beautiful and glorious as the age
and decay of the old world is desolate and
heart breaking. There is a freshness in the
whole scene, a < v«M as it is, that rests upon
the oiiw blow n u>se. The sun here sends
if a morning rays 'll rough an atmosphere so
dewy and soft, that it seems to kiss the
prairie flowers gently, only meeting the
•odes <d ,ts abrupt hills with it.-, noon day
heats. Among the ptairie and broken land
lives every specie* of game, the antelope,
tbc d.-tr, the tinkey, the bear and buffa
lo— these are all found in abundance, but
the most prominently attractive object is the
wild horse, flora the noble animal has
rmmiod untntmclied until every trace of
subjection, which marked his progenitors,
has disappeared. They are now children
of the wind, mid only need but one more
touch nt freedom to mom t the atr. The
high meiif and racer, wrought tip to (ho pir
i,» lion of ivdized lica'uty, u» lie stops upon
tie tuts, enlists indescribable emotions of
pleasure. But the animal falls incompara
bly behind the wild horse of'he prairie, in
every point tviiofti mcro beauty is concern
ed. There is subjection in the gait and in
the eye of tbc ‘•blood’' that tolls of slavery;
while the wild horse is the very fr'e'edom of
bis life, and proudly ntid nobly indeed do'es
he woar his honor. To stand upon the
high hills that rise up (Yocn the plains in
i.i this rich country of their borne, and
mark the v ild horse as ihey exhibit their
charm lor, is one of the most interesting
sights in nature, At one time, browsing
with all quietness and repose, cropping the
grass and herbs daintily, anon starting Up
ns if in battle array, with fierce aspect and
terrible demonstrations of war. Changing
in the instant, they will trotutf with coquet
ish airs, that would, for affectation, do
honor to a favourite troup of ballet gills;
then as the thought of their power conies
over them, they will with lightning swift
ness dash in straight lines across the plains,
mingling into one mass, so obscure will they
be by their flight. Changing still again,
they will sweep round in graceful curves,
rivaling the sportive flight of the eagle, then
breaking into confusion, pursue a pell mell
course for a few moments, until suddenly
Some leader will strike out from tho crowd
and load off (single file, thus striking out
over the plain in line, looking in ihe dis
tance like a current of some swift running
river. Approach them nearer, an#see what
beauty as well as power. That stallion
whose mane floats almost down to his
knees, shakes it as a warrior of the cru
sades would have done his plume; he
springs upon the turf ns if his feet Were
dainty of the ground; and how that mare
leaps and paws, and springs into the air;
she would teach her colt to fly, one would
think—and then, as the sun shines oblique
ly on the crowd, their skltis betray the well
formed musclfr, and darken and glitter, like
silver and gold. The groom of the stable
labors in vain for such glossiness; it is tho
result of health—it’s nature.
The wild Indian loves the horse, herein
Showing his humanity and his soul. Me;
has his traditions that his ancestors were
once without them, and the Great Spirit is
daily thanked that he now possesses the
treasure. The “happy hunting grounds”
ore filled with the noble animal, and the
warrior, if he reposes in peace, is beside his
steed, which sacrificed on his grave, follows
him in spirit to the lalid el the Indians’ father.
In the ludian horseman tho centaur of the
aticients may bo said to still exist, for as ho
dashes across his native wilds he forms ah
most really a part of the animal on which he
rides; without saddle or biidle*, if he choos
es, he will spring upon Ihe bare back and
be off with the wind ; the loose parts of
his dress streaming Out. and mingling with
the flowing mono and tail of his charger so
perfectly, that they seem literally and per
fectly one being. Tauntig the wild horse
forms, as maybe imagined, one of the great
characteristics of the distinguished Indian;
horsemanship being considered, as among
enlightened nations, not only useful, but
one of the splendid accomplishments. The
noisy pride of exultation never rings loud
er in the forest than when the spirit of the
undaunted steed is first conquered, and his
fiery impatience submits to the will of a ri
der.
On tho banks of the “shining river” was
encamped a successful war party of the Os
ages. They had stole into' their enemies’
country when a majority of their men were
off On a hunting expedition, and, with their
customary warfare, they had butchered
every living being they had met with. The
sculps taken were numerous, mid many
were the ‘braves’ who, for the first time
brnvadoed over the bloody trophy, although
it once might have graced the head of a
young girl or infant Songs, dances, and
exultations were rife, old men forgot their
dignity, and grew gay and jocular. The
women sung songs of victory, and tho chil
| dren emulated their sires in mimic warfare,
• and in the imaginary shedding of blood.—
It was a jubilee, and the spirit of all was
for excitement. As the sun set on this an
imated scene, n hundred fires curled up into
tho air, nnd with their forked tongues light
ed up tho rudo buffalo skin tent nnd its
swarthy inhabitants, nnd showed off by in
distinct light the forest trees, as mysterious
traces of tremendous limbs, suspended, as if
by magic, in the surrounding gloom.
The bustle nnd confusion was beyond
description, but of all tho spotts exhibited
on this occasion, nono were so prominent
as feats of horsemanship. Gradually, os
the evening wore away, every thing center
ed in this chivalrous amusement, and tho
whole scene became more than ever strikin'*
and peculiar. Tho animals, alarmed bv
the glare of torches and tho shouts of tho
crowd, seemed crazed and Confused ; at
one time they trembled nt the voices of
their masters, nt other times, starting off in
i the swiftest speed, as if endeavoring to es
j rope; ail these caprices were taken advan
! tags of by the riders to display their skill,
for at one time they would bound upon the
horses’ back, like panthers, and dash oft'in
to the woods, or, if the steeds w ere quit tlv
disposed, mount their backs and shame the
Morrows and Norths by their evolutions.
; Occasionally a horse would dash by us, ap
| parent ly without a rider—when, suddenly,
I there would tise from a side opposite to the
i spectators, ihe form of an Indian, who hnd
I sustained himself by the slightest pressure
l of the foot on the horses back and a hold
on the mane. Another would follow at full
speed, when the rider, as if suddenly para
lysed, would disappear, and as you invol
untarily looked on the ground for his place
j of fall, you would hear his shrill cry ringing
! in ‘.he distance, as he was borne off on his
I steed. Th tso feats involved sorrie of the
; stratagems used in war, for the Indian cav
j airy, as they beur down upon their enemies,
j will pass them at full speed without a rider
| being seen, while the fatal arrow or lead
J will fiv from under the horses neck.
In the midst of these amusements, a
strong muscular Osage came into the camp
leading by halter ono of tho largost black
stallions seen among the tribe; he was
powerfully built, his rnano almost touched
his knees, and his tail trailed on the ground;
his nostrils were distended to tho largest
diametor, and his eves contracted and dila
ted like flames of tire. A more beautiful
creature cannot bo imagined, and as ho
started and snorted at tho crowd, he seem
ed to say that the halter around his neck
only confined his body, and that his spirit
was still tree. There were marks of the
ropes upon his sides and legs that showed
a fierce contest had ensued before he was
thrown, so as to saddle him—and for all
this severe treatment it only rendered him
patient in following his captor at the full
end of tile rope; for if any nearer approach
es were attempted, he resented them by the
most powerful displays of anger.
As tho Indian led this noble animal tip
and down before tho assembled multitude,
for tho double purpose of showing his
beauty and his own prowess in catching
him, the cry became universal for the owner
to mount him, and there was no bound to
tho wonder that ensiled, when the most cel
ebrated horseman of the tribe acknowledg
ed himself incapable of “backing” the ani
mal before them. Twenty living men with
forms of Apollo’s and tho activity of the
deer, offered eagerly to do it, and one more
eager than the rest, at once approached the
noble prisoner. We felt for the steed, nnd
sympathised with the spirit that resented the
mounting on his back. Held ns ho was,
that the rider might mount him, he snorted,
and pawed the ground, rose into tho air,
and fairly yelled with tage; and if any one
really succeeded in getting into the saddle,
no sooner was the rider left to his owrt re
sources, than he was thrown or dismounted
by the animal’s trying to crush him by roll
ing on the ground. This long continued
opposition, surprising to all, by ith success
and endurance, heightened the wish to con
quer him, and wo waited with breathless
impatience for the swarthy Alexander that
was to conquer this modern Bucephalus.—
The continued trials satisfied mo that the
Indians were all astonished at tho long re
sistance that the horse made, for the sar
castic tone of voice ceased, ns ono, “brave”
GRIFFIN (GA.) SATURDAY.MORNING, JULY ?), 1812.
after another relinquished tho task, and fell
back into the crowd; and finally as the last
effort was made to ride the noble animal,
and the usual want of success followed it,
and the horse remained quietly, a prisoner
unconqucred among his captives.
Had it now been in our power, we would
have been proud at this moment to have
stepped forward nnd released the noble
captive, we would have been delighted to
havo seen his heels ns ho bounded off
among his fellows over the wild prairie, we
would have exulted in his freedom, and
proved that he might neverwear the badge
of laborious submission. But this pleasure
was denied us.
Among those associated with the Osages,
was a white hunter, who from his prowess
had gained tho mitno of tho “horse tamer.”
The Indians had often spoken to me about
him, and as he presented himself before
the camp at Shis particular time, his wel
come was boisterous. Tho unsuccessful
efforts to ride tho horse before him were
soon detailed, nnd lie was challenged to
make a trial himself. Tho hunter on this
oecsiou was opulently fatigued the pack
of fresh skins he brought into the camp on
his shoulders, was a mule’s burthen; the
torn moccasins and leggins, as well as the
slow walk, all denoted a long and laborious
chase. Still the hunter did not refuse the
task; ho bantered awhile with words, to see
how much honor there would be in tidihg
the horse, and when lie once discovered
that there was so much to bo gained, his
pride prompted him to accept the task.
it was with no common interest that we
watched the proceedings of the horse ta
mer.
Tho Indians, who had given up the trial
in despair, which the jaded hunter before
me so confidently accepted, were men of
pow erful strength, of tho most astonishing
activity, uhd the best equestrians I ever
saw, or imagined, nnd that they could have
been beaten seemed no less than a miracle.
The horse tamer, approached the stallion,
nnd examined the gitth of plaited hair that
held the rudo trapping attached to it in its
place. He took hold of the pummel which
rose like n goose neck from the saddle, to
sre if it was firm; then with a cautious and
critical care, he drew gently upon the bridle
reins to see if the slip nooses at tho ends
which encircled the horse’s snout would
readily tighten, for the Osages bridle has no
bit. All these things being to his satisfac
tion, ho next proceeded to roll tip an Indian
blanket into a hard body, which he fastened
to the long pummel of tho saddle in sueh a
way that the ends of it would firmly bind
upon his thighs, if once mounted; then wdth
a small deer skin thong, he tied the wooden
stirrups underneath the horse, eo they could
not sty above the level of the animal’s belly.
All preperations being ended, the lamer
proceeded to mount. Four of tho most
powerful 1 ndinns seized hold of tho nni
'mnl’s bridle, and pulling head down, held
the poor stn'lion so firmly, he could only
use his heels; but in spile of their flying
about, the “horso tamer” gained his seat,
and sang out ‘let him go.’
Tlie order was accompanied by a shout
iu at made the welkin ring. The stallion
more than cvrr alarmed, gave one of his
most furious efforts to throw off his burthen,
but this had been anticipated, for as he
throw himself into the air, tho blanket
bound the rider to his seat—tho second
effort, that of rolling on the ground, also
failed, for ns tho horse threw himself on bis
side, the tamer landed gracefully on hie
foot, tho doer skin thong kept thostiirups
in their places, nnd at the next instant, as
the “galled jade,, sprang on his feet, tho
rider went up with him. A long, hearty
prolonged shout followed the inimitable
exhibition. The wild horse for tho first
tirrio felt tho possibility of defeat ; his
proud liparing was already naif gone, for
all his succeeding efforts were those of des
pair. Vain, indeed, were his displays of
power ; the tiger with his deadly hold
upon the bnuticli of the buffalo, could not
bo more securely fastened to his victim
than was the tamer to his. Tho reaiing,
pitching, shying, plunging, running and
suddenly stopping, seemed nil known be
fere hand, and met, with a perfect guard,
that displayed tho most consummate judge-
ment and skill in horsemanship. At last,
the “tamer” seemed tired of tho cruel sport,
and taking advantage of his infuriated vic
tim, ns ho threw his fore feet in tho air, he
slipped quietly ofl'behind him, nnd with a
slight jerk careened the horse over on his
back, driving bis head deeply iu the soft
turf. Stunned and confounded, tho poor
animal rolled upon his side, and tho ‘lamer’
threw his bridle over his neck nnd left him.
The poor creature was completely con
quered; trembling from head to foot, and
half drowned with tho profuse sweat that
rolled from his sides like foam, he cast a
look of imploring despair at tho crowd, and
the big tear rolled down his checks. Ilis
spirit was completely broken.
A little coaxing brought him on his feet,
the sndillo was removed (rotn his back, nnd
the bridle from his head, and he walked
slowly off'to be found, by a singular law of
his nature, associated with the pack horses oj
his tribe, and waiting for the burthen of his
master.
Poverty, With all its inconveniences, has!
its advantages also. It disciplines the
mind, it quickens all its faculties, it gives it
strength arid vigor, it prepares it for great
endurance and noble nchicvments. The
greatest men thu world has ever produced
sprung from humble origin and received the
rough nursing of poverty.—The children
of wealthy parents scarcely ever attain to
any superior excellence. Petted and spoil
ed in childhood, idle in youth and supplied
without effort on their part with all tho
means and excitements of dissipation, their
manhood is oltcn disgraced with pernicious
habits and vices, which after they had lived
awhile, tolerated only in society on account
of their parent’s virtues, bring them to a
prmature grave. Tho children of tho poor
are not spoiled by indulgence. Plain coarse ’
faro, daily exercise in the fields nnd woods
nnd exposure to the sun and change of
weather, gives them strong eonstif’itions
and clear vigorous intellects, capable of i
the highest improvement. They are taught
at an early age, to rely upon their own ex
ertions and to think and act for themselves.
Sober, industrious and persevering they
soo.T\aequire property, character nnd influ
ence. \\ ill) honest pride mingled with pity,
they can then look down upon tho v\ retched
offspring of wealth, who once derided their
poverty, and insulted them with taunts nnd
jeers. Acting men! you, who are now spen
ding vaur time in idleness and luxury e.t the
expense of your too fund and yielding par
ents, take care, the timo will come, when
the sons ol poverty, who are now tho ob
jects of your laughter and contempt, will
have reason to thank Heaven, that they
were left like yourselves, to run on heed
lessly and uninterrupted to ruin and infa
! my.
Love-letters. —The first love-letter is an
I epoch in love’s happy season—it makes as
surance doubly sure—that which has hith
erto, perhaps, only found utterance in sweet
and honied words, now seems to take a
more tangible existence. A Idve-letter is
a proof hoiv dearly, even in absence, you j
are remembered. Be once hoard a young I
friend regret her approaching marriage, lie
cause she would then receive no more char
ming notes. Alas! the charming notes are
not the only charming things that are no
more. But love-letters? how much of life’s
most perfect happiness do those two words
contain! With what anxiety it is expected!
with what delight it is received! it seems
almost too grent a pleasure to open it. Sud
denly wo mock ourselves for the charmed
delay--the seal is hastily broken, the con
tents eagerly dovonred; then it is read
slowly, dwelling on every sentence to
lengthen out its enjoy me tils; how sweet
does every Jitte word of endearment appear!
what importance is attached to the choice of
an epithet, to the turn or a phrase! Thro’
the whole day, with what a conscious thrill
its possession is recalled ! with what care
it is rend over at night, till its contents min
gle with our dreams! IVo often wonder
when we sec people settled down in that
cold calmness, too often tho atmosphere
around the domestic hearth, whether they
ever recall the words they used to sav ami
the letters they used to write ! Would
those letters appear absurd nnd exaggerated
or would they for a moment bring buck the j
old feeling, or at all events, a tender regret;
for its departure?—-V. Y. Mirror.
■ 4 veto kind of traffic. —The Yankees
are every where famous for swapping. It
is not often, however, that wc have, to re
cord a speculation like tho following even
in Yankee land. In a portion of the town
of Great Barrington, known by tho appro
priate name of Timber-shin, lives one Aus
tin, until recently a sorrowing widower.—
Tho wife of Austin not long since died,
leaving him a daughter aged seventeen.—
Like most who have been blest with ex
cellent wives; he Was exceedingly uncom
fortable in his bereaved state. Hard bv
lived a neighbor, whose happiness with a
w ife Austin envied. Austin mourned with
his neighbor one day oVcr his own hard lot,
while hb Congratulated him upon thu pos
session of such an excellent w ife. The
neighbor seemed to think that he would
prefer the daughter of Austin as a compan
ion to his own wife, valuable no she ivas.
A swap was finally proposed and agreed to
Austin received a little “hoot” on account
of the difference in the ages of the females.
The females making no objection, ihe ex
change was effected. Austin received,!
and has for months lived with !ho vvifo o(
his neighbor, who makes good the place of j
her whoso loss he had mourned. The j
daughter of Austin furnishes tho neighbor j
with a wife, with which he is well pleased,
congratulating himself not a little that he lias
swapped off his old wife for a “bran nciv 1
one, nnd only had to pay five dollars («t
boot.” —Stockbrillge Visiter,
Past Driving. —“ Coachman,” said an
outside passenger to ono who was driving
at a furious rate over one of tho most moun
tainous roads in the north of England “have
you no consideration for our lives and
limbs ?” “What are your lives and limbs to
me,” was the roply; I am behind my time?”
AN ORATION
Delivered in the City o) Griffin, on the .in
niversary of American Independence, Ju
ly illi, 18-1:2. By David Clopton, Esq.
Wc have assembled on this dav, Fellow-
Citizens, to contemplate tho noblest work of
man. A great political temple, reared by
the hands ol our own sues, spreads its
magnificent form before nnr astonished
and enraptured admiration. 1 1 spire pierces
tho heavens, nnd nVound it is entwined the
lightning’s glowing wreath—its circumfer
ence encompasses the widest extent of our
ow n land—and its doois are open to the
persecuted nnd oppressed of every nation,
w hilst within its halls preside peace, plenty
and happiness. It bears no scathe ot ages;
lolling years havo served to beautify and
adorn. ( olumu after column bus arisen to
support its increasing grandeur. Upon its
North are inscribed the Canadas—upon its
South is extended the Gulf—the dark, blue
Atlantic laves its East—whilst on the West
rolls Ihe enraged Pacific. Eternity may
play around its summit, and boundless
l'iine repose beneath itsshadowß.
Behold, approaching it, on this memora
ble day, seventeen millions of native free
men, above whoso head floats “ ihe Star
Spangled Banner.” I see there no P,oman
triumph. Where is the regal splendor of
enslaved kings to deck the triumphal car?
Where are tho trophies of conquered sub
jects ! \\ here the turns of sacked cities,
and tho relics of departed greatness ] Do
you hear the suppressed sob of the captive,
as he contemplates, a long and dreary ser
vitude or as he listens to the forging of the
bondman’s chains? Do you be hold the
wo-stricken look of thej Emperor, as he
turns to weep over a fallen threnc, or to
surrender the sccptro of lost power to a
haughty conqueror ? No, it is the proud
march of civilization through the wilder
ness— of the sons of freedom going to of
fer their devotions at tho shrine of liberty.
Feelings of an Unworthy nature find no
admittance into this temple—the jealousy
of party spirit is hushed. Its storms may
howl around the outer walls, or retreat in
threatening terrors to the valleys of the far
off mountains; it may lash the foam-crest
od wave, and its echoes reverberate along
distant countries i but within, all is calm
anil quiet—peace stretches hot white wings
over tho vast multitude—no murmur of
discord whispers contention through these
ranks—you hoar but the loud hosnnnas,
that burst from hearts strung to tho dulcet
notes Os patriotism. The servile peasant
dwells in wonder upon the scene, and lungs
for freedom, and the scorns of the despot,
abashed and refuted, recoil within his own
breast. Do you ask the cause of all this
mighty concourse ? Hear you not the glad
acclaim w ith which this morn is ushered in,
and which reverberates through the welkin,
and resounds from the mountains to the
seaboard. It is the birth day of Liberty,
the political Sabbath of America, the pass
over of the New World.
This is a duy, however, Follow-C'itiz ns,
for higher anil nobler purposes, than tho-
I of mere pleasure or national gratulatioos—
a day, sacred to the memory of departed
I worthies, nnd frabght with recollections
dually bought. It well becomes us to be
guided by the lahip of experience, and to
watch tho beacon fires which history has
kindled for the direction of tho Statesman.
We learn to avoid the dangers of the future,
by retrospection the errors of tho past. We
have to pass over a political sea, around
whoso ebast tho tempest of destruction
plays in wanton sportfulness. Republics
haVe arisen, and their vessels of state,
freighted with hopes far more valuable than
the golden fleece, have sailed for n while
over an even surface, until their helmsmen
havo been lulled to sleep by tho syren voice
of uncertain security, and awoke only to
behold a wreck : and now their scattered
fragments stand out as buoys to warn us of
tho hidden ruin. What day, then, is so
proper to contemplate the evils that threaten
our safety, and tho advantages possessed by
our Government as this, w hen the passions,
aroused by passing events have been stilled
nnd their voice is no longer hoard, and
when we are permitted to hold sweet con
verso with those heroes whose excellencies
we have been taught to admire, whose vir
tues to imitate, and whose names to revere
—as this day, m each revolving year be
comes the meeting ground for Ihe dead and
tho living—when tho images of Ihe patriots
of Bunker Hill, Saratoga i:hd Yn. blown, j
appear upon iijomorv’s canvass to advise
and encourage their descendants !
Peihnps no portion of time embodies
within ti e same duration inoro evenful
scenes, than the yet brief history of A
fiieriea —because tuuie ha.i been so fraught
with the happiest changes in the condiiion
of our race. From this Western World
arose a light, that was destined to dispel the
gloom and daikness which ages of barba
rism lied gathered over human ufT,i s ; and
it ascended, like the slur of Bethlehem to
lead men to tho spot where lay the infant
form of liberty. Commerce then unreeled
its sails, only to catch tho breer.es that
coasted along tho inland shore ; the broad
ocean was extended before it unexplored
and unnavigated ; and its precious mines
No. 28.
of wealth were known only to the Levia
than of the deep. The his) days of seiut
-I‘fic Egypt and Republic n Greece had gene
down with past years, their glories had set
behind the accumulation oi ages. The
dark night of ignorance had drawn its dtca
ry pall over science, freedom and religion ;
and upon it, were erected the cruelty of the
feudal laws and the diabolical inquisition*
This latter age compared with the former,
as the feeble glimmering of twilight to,tho
dazzling brilliancy ol the noon-day’s sun;
for ntind and matter were alike buried be*
■tenth the rubbish of tyranny and supersti
tion.
At such a moment as this, a small’ fleet
is seen to wend its way across the trackless
sea, braving its anger and mounting its
billows. Duy alter day they sail onward,
and yet the goal of their hopes seems r,o
nearer than when first they began their
perilous voyage. The spirit of adven
tuic dies away, and the enthusiastic ardor
of the Commander himself is almost ex
tinguished, when at the secret hour of
midnight, when deep darkness was broo
ding o’er the. face of nature,yand when the
i stars, the silent messengers of night, were
peering front behind the canvass of tho
heavens, the erv of “ land ! land!” is heard;
and Columbus, clad in rich attire and
clothed with regal splendor, plants the first
European foot up the soil of San Salvador.
His imagination had been lost in the reve
ries of discoveries ; hut now, rising front
the ground ol reality, and soaring upon
lenrian wings, into the higher and subltmer
regions of fancy, he saw portrayed before
his delighted view', thrones and kingdoms,
governed by the sceptre of his tair queen,
Isabella. Were he now to revisit cailb,
he would behold no such results ps hp
j saw in his wildest visions, arising from the
ful/i/ment of hi3 mysterious mission. The
natives, front whose Conversion lie anticipa
ted in his religious gratitude such tni"htv
triumphs for Christianity, are fast retreating
with tho deep shadows of tho unknown
world before the proud tread of civilization,
and, ere long, may find a burial place upon
the Wintry penks ot the Rocky Mountains,
or a watery grave in (he bottomless depths
ot tho Pacific, An t Spain, whose territo
ry, he expected, to become so enlarged,
whose authority so supreme, whoso wealth
so unbounded and whose resources so. in
numerable, where now would he tind her?
Lowest upon the scale ofEttropoan nations.
But could ono pang of disappointment
pierce his heart, *s ho contemplated with
gazing admiration, the groat and beneficial
changes which ho bad been the instrument
of effecting in the condition of human af
fairs ? V\ ould he now wonder at the grand
achievements of ntind, since it has been
pet milled to roam unrestrained the homid
iess fields ot knowledge and invention,
and the powerful operations of the arms of
industry and enterprise, since they have
been left to afct ui.ittattielled ? Would lie
not exclaim ”Io Triumphe,” as ho wit
nessed tho free principles oi Liberty flour
ishing, its genial influence extending, and
this country thickly populating under tho
kind auspices of a Republican Government!
Would not his heart leap with joy, as lie
hoard tho woodman’s uxo resounding in tho
wild regions of our Western forests; and as
his imagination, penetrating yet further into
the tuture, saw one free anti independent
people unfurling their banners from tho
Atlantic to tho Pacific ?
Nj peiiod could ImVe been selected
more favorable to the growth of iiec institu
tions, than the early settlement of this couu
try. Tho black crime of religion:* perse
cution had stained the fair fame of England;
and the Cavalier and Round Head Iveta
successively driven front her sed-girt shores
and sought refuge in the unsettled wilder
ness. Ecclesiastical authority bore strong
ly and heavily upon a!!, who dared assert
the freedom of worship which God and
nature had bestowed ; and they chose
rather to incur the dangers and difficulties
ol tho new world, than the stakes and gib ■
bets of the old. When they left their na
tive land, they passed from a state of social
organization to one of primeval nature, and
tho reckless independence, which the sttd.-
den transition created, could scarcely brook
the necessary restraint of law. External
obstacles, arising from the dangerous vicin
ity of the Indian savages, or the fear of the
uplifted tomahawk, or the sudden approach
of the untamed beast, tlrrcw barriers in tho
progress of ungoverned freedom, bound
only by first laws and defended only by in
dividual prowess; else Society would hnvo
known no other extent in this favored
land, save that of patriarchal jurisdiction.
The wild adventurer, led on by the excite -
ment of discovery, wandered to day through
some land of promise, which had ne’er
b< in trodden by the foot of the white man.
or stood, to-morrow, upon the Hanks of
some nobio stream, the tale oi whose ma
jesty lit* wis to hear to his companions,
less hold than himself. No circumstances
could have contributed more !■". produce a
habit of self reliance, and a consciousness
of the necessity of common succor, than
those wieh attended onr early pioneer, 110
braved dangers clothed in the more terror,
because they were seen t anti hidden :
tvas carried to the ndmiritionof now rfrta^i