The Spirit Of Democracy

"MY OWN GREEN LAND."

Mr. Greeley closes his series of letters from Europe with the following eloquent passage:

"With a glow of unwonted rapture I see our stately vessel's prow turned towards the setting sun, and strive to realize that only some ten days separate me from those I know and love best on earth. Hark! the last gun announces that the mail boat has left us, and that we are fairly afloat on our ocean journey; the shores of Europe recede from our vision; the water waste is all around us; and now, with God above, Death below, our gallant bark and her clustered company together brave the dangers of the mighty deep. May infinite Mercy watch over our onward path and bring us to our several homes; for to die away from home and kindred seems one of the saddest calamities that could befall me. This mortal tenement would rest uneasily in an ocean shroud; this spirit reluctantly resign that tenement to the chill and pitiless brine; these eyes close regretfully on the stranger skies and bleak inhospitalities of the sullen and stormy main. No! let me see once more the scenes so well remembered and beloved; let me grasp, if but once again, the hand of Friendship and hear thrilling accents of proved Affection, and when sooner or later the hour of mortal agony shall come, let my last gaze be fixed on eyes that will not forget me when I am gone, and let my ashes repose in that congenial soil, which, however I may there be esteemed or hated, is still

"My own green land forever!"