Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1853-09-07

He hath up-rooted the firm foundations of great
ness and grandeur, NOR less hath he desolate
the gardens of oriental genius. Methinks 7 SCI
him pointing with triumph to the tottering tenn
piles of Greece, and smiling at the ruins of Athens
and Sparta, the homes of that illustrious philoso
her who gave learning to the imperial son o.
Phillip, and where solon and Lycurgus gave law
to the world. But these cities are in rtiins,-
their philosophers are silentin death; the "a.
emy, the Porch and the lyceum no longer fe4
sound with the doctrines of Plato, Zeno, and their
| illustrious competitors. Their fame alone has
survived the general wreck. What lesson is
this for the growing empires of earth. Greece,
the glory of the world the bright luminary OF
learning, liberty and laws, PROSTATE in the dust;
her light of genius and the arts quenched in the
long night of time; her philosophers, heroes,
statesmen, and poets ningling with the frag-
ments of her falling granduer. Go to the temple
of Diana, Epheses, and the oracle of Delphos, and
ask the story of her renown, the story of her dis
solution Alas, that temple hath long since dis
solved in a flood offame, and the last echo of
that oracle hath died on the lips of Eolus. But
she fell not before the flaming sword of Mahomet
without struggle. 1t was the last expiring
struggle of brave and llustrious race, and her
fall was like that of the Colusus at Rhodes-she
was recognized alone by the fragments of her re-
nown When the conquering arm of Rome
spread the imperial banner above her walls, her
literature and learning survived the fall; but
when the second time she fell beneath the Tar
tar horde, the last CLEAN of Grecian glory
tinguished in Byzantum's tomb.
Mournful to the mind Of man are, the records of
departed greatness. Where is the imperial city
of the Caesars, the once proud mistress of sub
iugated world. She lies low but still mighty in
the dust. Methinks I am seated amid the mel
achdoly ruins of Rome. Around me strewed
the crumbling fragments of other ages. and be-
fore ne are the tumbling temples once hallowed
by the footsteps of the Caesars. But where is the
cottage of Romulus, the golden palace Of Nero,
and the shrine of Apollo and the Muses.! They
are mingling with the wrecks of other times
Aud where is the great Roman Forum, in which
the thunders of Cicero's eloquence once struck
terror to tyrants!
There the sheperd boy roams and the fieecy
focks now feed There, where the Tribunal and
the Rostrum, the Comitium and the Curia once
stood, the lean lizard now craw1s, and the rank
grass waves in the night breeze. Those walls
are now silent, where the tongue of Tully once
and the applause of listenings senates
reverberated. And where is that stupendous pile
the Colisium, which stood in ancient days like a
mountain of marble, and where the strong armed
gladiator bled, and the untamed tigers fthe for
est died! Behold itestill stands tottering in de-
cay, but the thousands of spectators have depart
ed, and thunders of applause have died in echoes
along the ruined arches. The red sun goes down
and sheds his last ray upon its gray battlements
and the mellow moonbeam glimmers through the
ivy crowned walls and gloomy galleries. The
footstep of the solitary traveller now echoes
alone where the mighty Caesars 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
IF other ages. Go muse over the fallen forums of
Traian, Nerva, and Dormitian-a few pillars of
Partisan marble alone remain to tell the world
hat they once have been. Go and gaze on the
uins of the palace Of the Casars-descend into
he cctacombs and ruminate amid the bleaching
bones of the early christians, prosecuted by the
lemon of superstition even unto death. Go climb
he lofty towers of Rome andsurvey the melan-
,holy mementoes of other times and other men.
And was this the mighty Rome that once stood
against the legions of Carthage, led on by the |
victorious Hannibal! It is the same, though fall
en-. And where is Carthage? Buried in the
,ortex of oblivion Could the shades of the i'm
mortal Cicero, Horace and Virgil revisit the earth
ind stray through those scenes which they have
mmortalzed in song and eloquence, how would
hey be struck with the mutability of all human
yranduer. ,e --ss
Oh! time, mighty is the strength ofthy arm!
The wonders of the world have fallen before
hee. Witness, ye wall of Babylon, covered with
erial gardens, and thou great statue of Olympian
love- The most celebrated cities of antiquity
nave been buried beneath the irresistible waves
IF time. Go read an example in the fate of Syr-
lcuse, the city of Archmedes, whose single arm
epelled the hosts of Rome, and dared to move
he world if he might have foundations for his feet.
That splendid city is in ruins-her philosopher
leeps in the dust, and where are his mighty |
,ngines of war! They are swept from the recol-
ection of man. Go and read another exam
lie in the fate of far-famed Troy. Seek there for
he palaces Of Priam, once ilumed with the smiles
If the tickle though beautiful Helen, for whom
Sparta fought and Troy fell. Alas, those palace
lalls are silent, and the towers of Ilion lie level
With the dust. Old Priam hath long since de-
parted from the earth, and the graves of Paris
md his paramour unknown. The mighty
Hector, too, the brave antagonist of Archiltes, is
no more. The glory of the house of Priam hath
departed forever. The invaders and the invaded
sleep together in the common mauseloum of