The Arkansas advocate., 1830-07-21

wrecks off time. Their bones are. bleach
 ing on their native hills, even more des
 olate than their once celebrated city.
 Time, ike death, IS an impartial con
 queror. The monuments of genius ans the arts fall alike before him in the patf of irresistible might. He has uprootee
 the firm foundations of greatness and grandeur, nor less hath he desolateo the gardens of oriental genius.--Me- thinks, Isee himsp pointing with triumph
 to the totterlng temples of Greece, and smiling at the ruins of Athens and Spar ta, the homes of that illustrious philoso-
 pher who gave learning to the imperi- al son of Philip, and where Solon and
 l.ycurgus gave laws to. the world. But these cities are in ruins; their philoso- phefs are dumb in death: the Academy. the Porch, and the Eyceum no longer =resound with the doctrines of Plato. Ze, no, aad their illustrious competitors.
 Their fame alone has survived the een- efai wreck. ,s What iisit |. lesson is this ioI. thegroWlng empire of theearth. Greece. the glory of the world, the bright lunli- nary of learning, ,liberty, and laws, pros trate in the dust; her light of genius and the arts quenched in the long night of time; herphilosophers, heroes. states men, and poets, mingling with the frag- nents of her fallen grandeur. Go to the temple of Diana, at Ephesus, and he oracle at Delphos, and ask the sfor, of her renowh, the story of her dissolu- tion- Alas, that temple hath long since dissolved in food of flame, and the last echo of ihatoTacle hath died on the lips of dsolus. But she fell not before. the flaming sword of Mahomet without a struggle. It was the last expiring struggle ofa brave and illustrious race. and her fall was like that of the Colos- SIS 2 shades slse was recognized a- lone by the fragments of renown. When the conquering arm of Rome spread the imperial banner above her walls. he literature andlearning survived the fall: but when the second time she fell be- heath the Tartarhorde, the last eleam of Greeian glory was extiaguished in 3yzantium tomb.
 hiournfnl to the minds of man are the records of departed greatness. Where is the imperial city of the Cesars, the once proud mistress of d subiugated we1id. She lies low but still mighty ifi the dust. Methinlls am seated amid the melancholy ruins of Rome. Around me are are strewed the crumbling frag- ments ot other ages, and before me are the tumbilng temples once hallowed by the footsteps of Caesars. But where is the cottage of Romulus, the golden pa lace Of Nero, and the shrine of Apollo and tiie Afuses? They are mingline with the wrecks of other tinles- And where is the great Roman Forum, in which thunders of Cicero's oioquence once struck terror to tyrants? There the shepherd boy roams, and the fleecy aocks now feed. There, where the trI- bunal and the rostrum, the Comitium and tho aura, once stood, the lean iiz- ard crawls, and the rank grass waves in the night breeze. Those walls are now silent, where the tongue of Fully once thundered and the applause of lis tening senates reverbrated. And where is the stupendous pile the Colisium, which stood in ancient days like noun tain of marble, and the strong-armed gladiator bled, and the untamed tigers of the forest died? Behold it still stands lettering in decay, but the thousands of spectators have departed, and the thun- ders ot applause have died in echoes a. long the ruined arches. The red sun now goes down and sheds its last ray upon its grey battlements, and the mel low nloon-beam glimmers through the ivy crowned walls and gloomy galleries.
 The footsteps of the solitary traveller now echoes alone, where the mighty Cesars once applauded, and the clash of the combat sounded. But is this all! Alas, Rome is eloquent in ruins-the city of the seven hills is strewed with the fragments of other ages. Go muse over the fallen forum of Traian, Nerya and Domitian--a few pillars of Parian marble aleisc! remain to tell the world that they once had been. Goand gaze on the ruins of the palace of the Casars -descend into the catacombs and ru- minate among the bleaching bones of the early christians, persecuted by the demon of superstition even to death.
 Go climb the lofty towers of Rome and
 survey the melancholy mementos of otil-
 CT times and other men. And was this