I do not know if it has occurred to our honored guest that he is not the first stranger who, after sojourning in this distant, unknown land, has come back loaded with its honors, and with messages to the Christian powers. He is not without a predecessor in his mission. There is another career as marvellous as his own. I refer to the Venetian Marco Polo, whose reports, once discredited as the fables of a traveller, are now recognized among the sources of history, and especially of geographical knowledge. Nobody can read them without feeling their verity. It was in the latter part of the far-away thirteenth century that this enterprising Venetian, with his father and uncle, all merchants, journeyed from Venice, by the way of Constantinople, Trebizond on the Black Sea, and Central Asia, until they reached first the land of Prester John, and then that golden country known as Cathay, where the lofty ruler, Kublaï Khan, treated them with gracious consideration, and employed young Polo as his ambassador. This was none other than China, and the lofty ruler, called the Grand Khan, was none other than the first of its Mongolian dynasty, having his imperial residence in the immense city of Kambalu, or Peking. After many years of illustrious service, the Venetian, with his companions, was dismissed with splendor and riches, charged with letters for European sovereigns, as our Bostonian is charged with similar letters now. There were letters for the Pope, the King of France, the King of Spain, and other Christian princes. It does not appear that England was expressly designated. Her name, so great now, was not at that time on the visiting list of the distant Emperor. Such are the contrasts in national life. Marco Polo reached Venice, on his return, in 1295, at the very time when Dante, in Florence, was meditating his divine poem, and Roger Bacon, in England, was astonishing the age with his knowledge. These were his two greatest contemporaries, constituting with himself the triumvirate of the century.