many years, all of this northern continent will doubtless
be in the hands of the Anglo-Saxon race. That of itself
is not a thing to mourn at. Could we have extended our
empire there by trade, by the Christian arts of peace, it
would be a blessing to us and to Mexico ; a blessing to the world. But we have done it in the worst way, by fraud and blood; for the worst purpose, to steal soil and convert the cities of men into the shambles for human flesh; have done it at the bidding of men whose counsels long have been a scourge and a curse—at the bidding of slaveholders. They it is that rule the land, fill the offices, buy up the North with the crumbs that fall from their political table, make the laws, declare hostilities, and leave the North to pay the bill. Shall we ever waken out of our sleep ? shall we ever remember the duties we owe to the world and to God, who put us here on this new continent? Let us not despair.
Soon we shall have all the southern part of the continent, perhaps half the islands of the Gulf. One thing remains to do—that is, with the new soil we have taken, to extend order, peace, education, religion ; to keep it from the blight, the crime, and the sin of slavery. That is for the nation to do; for the North to do. God knows the South will never do it. Is there manliness enough left in the North to do that? Has the soil forgot its wonted faith, and borne a different race of men from those who struggled eight long years for freedom? Do we forget our sires, forget our God? In the day when the monarchs of Europe are shaken from their thrones; when the Russian and the Turk abolish slavery; when cowardly Naples awakes from her centuries of sleep, and will have freedom ; when France prays to become a Republic, and in her agony sweats great drops of blood; while the tories of the world look on and mock and wag their heads ; and while the Angel of Hope descends with trusting words to comfort her,—shall America extend slavery? butcher a nation to get soil to make a field for slaves? I know how easily the South can buy office-hunters; whig or democrat, the price is still the same. The same golden eagle blinds the eyes of each. But can she buy the people of the North? Is honesty gone, and honour gone, your love of country gone, religion gone, and nothing manly left—not even shame? Then let
