history had before introduced them. They are furnished with keys by which to gain access to the relics of by-gone times. The Druids and the Romans are known to them; but who were they who raised the tumuli of western America, or the Pyramids of Chollula and of Papantla? The antiquities of Egypt, wonderful as they are, point with an index well defined, to their origin; but who can decipher the hieroglyphics of Tultica?—who read the buried monuments of Anahuac? Egypt has her history told—if not distinctly upon her storied columns—in language which we are little disposed to doubt. The tablets of Rositta have revealed to inquiring antiquarians a flood of light; and the secret volumes inscribed upon the huge and elaborate piles of her arts, have suddenly opened to the wondering gaze their richly-stored contents. They said, emphatically, 'Let there be light, and there was light!' But no revelation has burst from the tombs of our western valleys. No Champolion, Young, Rossellina, nor Wilkinson, has preached the mysteries of Copan, Mitlan, or Palenque. No! Thick darkness still hangs over the vast continent of America. No voice answers to the anxious inquiry, 'Who were the Tultiques?' no lettered tablet is found to reveal the authors of the noble vestiges of architecture and of sculpture at Mitlan, Papantla, Chollula, Otumba, Oaxaca, Tlascala, Tescoca, Copan, or Palenque! The veil of oblivion shrouds, and may perhaps for ever shroud, these relics of an ancient and innumerable people in impenetrable obscurity. The researches of Del Rio, Cabrera, Dupaix, Waldrick, Neibel, Galinda, nor Corroy, are yet known to have developed the secrets of the buried cities of Central America, though they have labored for many years, 'silent and alone,' amid these massive fragments of ancient greatness.

The train of reflections which springs from a review of these magnificent specimens of skill, genius, and toil, is peculiarly exciting. If, in the vast field of observation which this continent presents, there is one subject that more than another claims attention—if there is one which is calculated to inspire an American with admiration and enthusiasm—it is the antiquities of his country. It may in truth be said, that were we to pronounce what are the great and peculiar charms of this 'new world,' we should say, at once, its antiquities—the antiquities of its buried cities—its long-lost relics of a great and ingenious people—the sublimity of ages that every where surrounds us, and the strange associations which, rush upon the mind, as we view ourselves in connection with an unknown and extinct species of men. Which way soever we turn our eyes, we behold the mighty remnants of their arts, and the wide waste of their mental and physical creations. We every where see the wonderful labors of those who, in times long gone by, gloried in these stupendous achievements, but whose might and inventions are told only in their far-spread destruction; a people, in short, of whom history has not left a solitary wreck behind! To describe the antique arts of such a people, strewed as they are over United and Central America, or buried for thousands of years beneath venerable forests, is a task which ages only can accomplish. An approach to this, therefore, is all our most ardent hopes can at present realize. Curiosity has indeed been awakened by the little which has lately been brought to light. The ambition of the learned has been excited, and the enthusiasm of the antiquarian enkindled; yet these are but the things of yesterday. The most industrious research, and the lapse of many years, are required, to develope the hidden treasures of art with which our continent abounds. For three hundred years have the most extraordinary of these slept in Central America, among strangers from another, not a newer world, as they had before slept for many thousands! Even now, comparatively little is known of their character. Sufficient, however, has recently been disclosed, to excite our wonder and admiration. In truth, had we fallen upon a new planet, crowded with strange memorials of a high order of genius, that for an indefinite time had survived their unknown authors, we should not be more amazed, than we are in gazing upon the anomalous relics of American antiquity.

America has been called 'the new world,' and we still designate it by this really unmeaning title, when, in point of fact, it is cöeval with the oldest. We are authorized, from its geological structure, to consider it the first great continent that sprang from 'the depths profound,' and are justified in believing, with Galinda, that it exhibits stronger proofs of senility, as the residence of man, than any other portion of our world. At another time, we shall speak more definitely of these facts, and present the evidence on which they are founded.

We have said that the subject of our antiquities has peculiar and important claims upon every American; but that these claims have been overlooked or disregarded. This will have appeared strikingly obvious to those who, in Central or United America, have had the satisfaction to examine the unique specimens of remote antiquity which characterize our continent. While the homage of the world has so long been paid to the monumental piles of transatlantic antiquity, and while voyages and pilgrimages have been performed to far distant quarters of the earth, to obtain a glance at oriental magnificence, and the ruined arts of primitive nations, here we find ourselves surrounded by those of a still more remarkable character. The wondrous cities of Pompeii, Herculaneum, Elephanta, Thebes, and Petra, are not more the subjects of just admiration than are those of our own America. The former have acquired universal notoriety, from the enthusiastic descriptions of numerous travellers, while the latter are possessed of all the charms of novelty. The first are confined to well known localities, and are intimately connected with a distinctive people, with dynasties, events, customs, and ceremonies, familiar to all who are acquainted with antiquarian literature. In fact, they tell their own stories, so that he who runs may read. Not so with the antiquities of America. These stretch from the great lakes of the north and west, to Central America, and the southern parts of Peru, on the south; from the Alleghany Mountains, on the east, throughout the great valleys, to the Rocky Mountains, on the west; and from the Pacific ocean to the Atlantic, through all the wide transverse central range of our continent. How immense this field of observation, and how rich in objects of antiquarian research! With what associations does the scene inspire us! Standing at any point in this vast space, and looking back through the long lapse of ages, a thousand thrilling emotions crowd upon us. If this spot, perchance, be in the midst of the massive and almost illimitable ruins of Palenque, who so insensible as not to be aroused by the scene around him? Here, strewed in one indiscriminate mass, lie the wrecks of unknown ages of toil and of mind. Here dwelt millions of people, enjoying happiness more complete than that of any other,