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316 with men who sought only personal aggrandizement and the opportunities for place and power.

The result of the coalition of such conflicting elements may be read in the rapid succession of events, one military leader succeeding another, and, fired by jealousy and the dread of rivalry, summarily disposing of his predecessor. The popular idol of to-day may tomorrow be a victim to his own superiority, as envy, like death, loves a shining mark. His place in history cannot be augured from his fate at the hands of his countrymen. Time avenges all such, and many who were executed as traitors are now revered as martyrs, their dust the choicest treasure of the Grand Cathedral and San Fernando. The strife in which they lived is past; the passions to which they were sacrificed are stilled forever, and only their great deeds survive. They live in the hearts of their countrymen, and in every part of the republic their memorials are to be found in the forms of mural tablet or shaft.

The facilities now offered for travel in Mexico place within the reach of all who desire it, the privilege of visiting in person the historic places mentioned in this connection; and at almost every turn of the railway the eye may rest upon some evidence of a sanguinary contest or memorial of stirring event.

It was my pleasure and privilege to make pilgrimages to many of these places, and often while gazing upon shaft or cross my heart has been thrilled as I recalled the unparalleled struggles of the Mexican people for liberty.

Let us turn for a moment to the first scene in the grand drama for liberty.

The hour is midnight. The inhabitants are wrapped in a calm and delightful repose. The gray-headed veteran and the child with golden curls—youth and innocence, old age and infirmity—are alike in profound slumber, in blissful unconsciousness of the coming storm. It is in the unpretentious town of Dolores—suggestive name! The