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Rh manifest their appreciation of the worth and virtues of their great Prototype, and perpetuate his memory by the rearing of a suitable column, and thus exhibit to the world, that they have not "forgotten him."

By J. M. Patterson—Printers' Daughters: A pictorial edition of the book of nature. May they be bound (not in calf) but with the silken cord of love.

Br H. L. Winants—Our Country: The brightest upon which the sun sheds its rays. Its present position as the * on which the nations of the earth are looking with! was only secured by dealing out to its former boss more leaded matter than he could justify in his form.

J. A. Hadley, of the Committee of Arrangements—The Mexican War: An attempt on the part of the foremen and jours of two neighboring offices to knock into pi the forms of each other. If a period can be put to the work, without the further battering of head lines or squabbling of columns, none but the devil will interpose bis opposition.

By A. Mann, (for a lady)—The Press: With its thousand tongues it proudly defies the ravages of "Old King Time," and flourishes, and shall continue to flourish, with undecayed moral beauty and magnified power. While the most potent must submit to its mandates, the weak acknowledge its protection.

By J. E. Morey—Woman: The illuminated edition of a standard work, set up in pearl and bound in muslin. May she be locked up in the embrace of kindness and her form never be battered by man.

By D. D. T. Moore—The Plough and the Press: The main-springs of physical and mental life and improvement. May they ever be accompanied with sharp points and rich banks, and those who guide them possess sufficient skill to produce good register and an abundance of quoin.

By Geo. T. Frost—Clergymen Printers: Clear forms, exhibiting neither monks nor friars.

By J. W. Benton—Benjamin Franklin, Printer: The star of the craft without a parallel, who though poor, afforded the use of a "golden rule" for his guide. May the same rule glitter upon the works of each of the craft

By A. Bennett—Printers' Festivals: The daily occupation of the craft is a feast of reason. It is but right they should enjoy, once a year, a flow of soul.

By Isaac Butts—[Editor of the Daily Advertiser]—The Printers of Oregon and California: The first of a race who are destined speedily to diffuse the blessings of a republican civilization through vast regions yet unreclaimed from the primitive sons of the forest.

H. Cook, of the Daily Democrat—Our Absent Brethren: The loss is mutual; ours the pleasure of pressing their s; theirs a fat take.

By E. Scrantom—formerly an apprentice of A. G. Dauby—My own Case: The Master Printer who filled it, is with us to-night, at the head of the column.

Prof., formerly Editor of the American Medical Recorder, Philadelphia, then addressed the assemblage in the following language, and wound up with a sentiment:

Mr. Chairman—In rising to offer a sentiment, it is not my intention to trespass upon much of the time which can be so much better occupied by others; but as the sentiment I shall propose brings with it a series of historical reminiscences, it is hardly proper for me to restrain a few remarks.

When we take a glance through the long vista of past ages, we see that even from the very dawn of creation to the present day, the solemn—the emphatic warning given in the Garden of Eden has hung heavily npon the memory of man—"Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." We trace too in legible characters the history of individuals and of nations swept down before the scythe of time, and we cherish the legacy of intellect which they have bequeathed to us, whilst we are ever ready to acknowledge our indebtedness by keeping alive the memories of the benefactors of our race.

It is a pleasing task to turn over the historic page; to examine the records of ages past, and to dwell in fancy among the sages of former times. We are thus able to trace the most important eras which characterize the march of science and of art, and thus to award just meed of praise where due.

It is not my intention, however, to go back to the earlier periods of history. Rome, in her palmiest days, either as a republic or an empire, throws no light upon my subject She had her Tacitus for her historian—her Cicero for her orator—and her Virgil, Lucretius, Horace, Terence, and Juvenal, for her poets. At the fall of this proud mistress of the world, a moral darkness overspread the fairest parts of the earth; her language became corrupt; the sciences were neglected; the voice of wisdom and the splendors of poetry were either restrained, or prostituted to the meanest purposes, and liberty was altogether lost. The northern barbarians who rushed with the impetuosity of a torrent upon this once formidable empire, extinguished the last spark that glimmered on the confines of science, and the shock which produced this effect vibrated through centuries. A universal mental desolation followed—the successful impostor from Arabia affected to despise learning—his schemes were those of ambition—ignorance in his followers was necessary to his purpose. A heaven of sensuality was opened to their view, to which they were to float through oceans of human blood. The liberal sciences were not only discarded, but death was the doom of the student. But when, after this dark and gloomy period, the barbarous models of the middle ages were put aside, and the noble languages of antiquity revived, learning once more reared her head from beneath the pressure, and the votaries of science continued to march onwards conquering and to conquer.

After the taking of Alexandria by the Arabians, learning fled the temple; the energies of mind seemed paralized; science and the arts drooped under the influence of barbaric sway, and it was