History tells us of republics full of promise and full of glory like our own. Such were those which clustered upon the shores of the Mediterranean, in almost the same latitude with us, and accomplished, centuries ago, their rise, their zenith, and their fall. Such were those free states and cities which braved the bleakness and inclemency of the Baltic and German coasts; and which likewise had their increase, and fullness, and extinction. These were all the children of Commerce, and followed her along the borders of the sea. Their ships explored the very ends of the world; laid the Indies under tribute; and on this remote continent, also, planted colonies and outposts of civilization. Alas! those republics and free states and cities have gone to their decay; the armed legions of Despotism tread upon their tombs, and scatter even their sacred ashes to the winds. But may our New World, which inherits their enterprise as well as their liberty, rejuvenate the nations grown old in oppression and despair, and plant upon the Eastern Continent the germs of a Civilization nobler than has yet been recognized--nobler than was ever sung by the poets, or foretold by oracles--a Civilization which shall raise up LABOR from its fallen estate, heal its infirmities, cover its nakedness, and enthrone it with honor; as the rescued maniac, by Divine compassion, was seated near the feet of our Saviour, clothed, and in his right mind! A CHRISTMAS CHANT.--_Alfred Domett._ It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, And now was queen of land and sea! No sound was heard of clashing wars, Peace brooded o'er the hush'd domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove, and Mars, Held undisturb'd their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago! 'Twas in the calm and silent night! The senator of haughty Rome Impatient urged his chariot's flight, From lordly revel rolling home. Triumphal arches, gleaming, swell His breast with thoughts of boundless sway; What reck'd the Roman what befell A paltry province far away, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago? Within that province far away Went plodding home a weary boor; A streak of light before him lay, Fallen through a half-shut stable-door Across his path. He paused, for naught Told what was going on within; How keen the stars, his only thought; The air, how calm, and cold, and thin, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago!