THE PRESS. (SPOKEN AT A DINNER PARTY, WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS CALLED UPON TO GIVE THE PRESS.") 66 10 do justice to "The Press" would require the tongue of an angel, and the wisdom of one of the highest order of celestial intelligences; for it is to a free and unfettered Press that England is, in a great measure, indebted for the high and exalted position she holds amongst the nations of the earth. Had that glorious machine, the Press, never been invented, there is no doubt that, even to the present day, we should have been trafficking in the blood and bones of our fellow-creatures, and looking upon slavery with an eye of exultant satisfaction. Had that wonderful machine never had existence, how many who are now filling some of the highest stations in society, and even sitting with the Kings and Princes of the earth, would still have been grinding at the mill, or, for a scanty pittance, attending to the labours of the field? Without the Press, what should we have known of the mighty men of old? or of the great and good of bygone days? What should we have known of the grand and all-amazing discoveries which have been made in the heavens above us, and the wonderful achievements in the earth below? And though even the very globe itself may be said to be one vast network of railways, and though the electric wires have given to us the glorious privilege of holding communion with almost every nation on the face of the earth,—yet, notwithstanding all these things, without the Press, how little should we have known of the passing events of the day, amidst the hum of the ongoing world around us! HE Press! the Press! the mighty Press! With everlasting blessings fraught! Who can thy glorious acts express, Or tell the wonders thou hast wrought? 'Tis thine to break Oppression's chain, To set the guiltless captive free; Earth's dreaded despots to restrain, And pave the way of Liberty. 'Tis thine, with more than trumpet voice To herald in the reign of Peace; To bid despairing lands rejoice, And War, with all its woes, to cease. 'Tis thine all nations to unite In one blest bond of heavenly love; To spread abroad the hallowed light, T 'Tis thine, O Press!-thine to display The might of the ETERNAL'S hand, Which can the foaming billows stay, And turn the ocean into land. |