Sentiments.”  I only quote one passage, which I could almost fancy Matthew Ward, the hero of the Louisville school-room, had written; it runs thus—­“The eloquent orator then went on for nearly half an hour in a strain of withering sarcasm and invective, exposing the shameless and wicked oppressions of England in her collieries, in her factories, in her oppression of Ireland; denouncing her as a nation whose history was written in oppression and blood (great applause.)”—­It is difficult to believe that the chosen representative of an intelligent community should thus speak of that nation to which his own country is indebted for nearly every valuable institution she possesses; but when such ridiculous vituperation is received with shouts of applause from the gaping rowdies who throng around him, does it not clearly demonstrate the truth of my previous statements as to the effects which the celebration of the 4th of July, as now observed, may naturally lead to?  I say, may lead to, because I would fain hope, for the sake of the credit and dignity of the Republic, that such disreputable orations are rare exceptions.

But that such feelings of aversion to the mother country are generated among the masses, is proved indirectly in another quarter—­viz., Congress.  During the debate on the Clayton-Bulwer treaty, a Mr. Douglas, to whom I have before alluded, and who may be considered as the representative of the rabid and rowdy portion of the community, thus expresses himself with regard to England:  “It is impossible she can love us,—­I do not blame her for not loving us,—­sir, we have wounded her vanity and humbled her pride,—­she can never forgive us.  But for us, she would be the first Power on the face of the earth,—­but for us, she would have the prospect of maintaining that proud position which she held for so long a period.  We are in her way.  She is jealous of us; and jealousy forbids the idea of friendship.  England does not love us; she cannot love us, and we cannot love her either.  We have some things in the past to remember that are not agreeable.  She has more in the present to humiliate her that she cannot forgive.”—­After which expressions, the poor little man, as though he had not the slightest conception of the meaning of the words he was using, adds the following sentence, deprecating all he had previously uttered:  “I do not wish to administer to the feeling of jealousy and rivalry that exists between us and England.  I wish to soften and smooth it down as much as possible.”

On a subsequent occasion, Mr. Butler, senator for South Carolina, who honestly did deprecate such language as the foregoing, referred, by way of contrast, to the many constitutional principles the Republic had derived from England, and also to the valuable literature which she had produced, and by which the Republic had benefited.  Upon which, poor Mr. Douglas got furious, and asserted, that “Every English book circulated contains lurking and insidious slanders