effort would be made to give him some place on the ticket, and having abandoned the field of politics, Judge Tilford addressed a letter to the convention, declining any nomination. The convention, however, aware of his popularity and abilities as a public speaker, unanimously nominated him for State Senator. At the urgent request of some of the most prominent Democrats of the county, he accepted the nomination. No one supposed his election was possible. Nevada county had been, and was still claimed as, the banner county of the Republican party. Mr. Lincoln's majority in 1864, was over twelve hundred. At the judicial election in 1865, the Republican nominee for Supreme Judge received one thousand majority. Judge Tilford entered the canvass, and addressed the people almost every night in the months of July and August, visiting nearly every town, village and mining camp in that populous county-from the summit of the Sierras where the reign of winter is unbroken, to the valleys where flowers are in continual bloom. His meetings were large the people never stayed at home when Tilford was announced to speak. His political enemies confess, that, in the conduct of this campaign, he made the most gallant fight ever witnessed in Nevada county, while his friends were enthusiastic in their expressions of admiration. His opponent was Hon. E. W. Roberts, who, on the official count, was shown to be elected by a majority of ninety-one out of a total vote exceeding five thousand.

When the legislature met at Sacramento in December, 1867, Judge Tilford's name was brought forward by many of his friends as a candidate for United States Senator, and submitted to the Democratic legislative caucus. The universal esteem in which he was held by the people of his county was shown in the fact that, before the Democratic caucus had agreed upon a candidate for Senator, all the Democratic and Republican papers of Nevada county advocated his nomination and election.

In November, 1867, he returned to his first home on the Pacific Coast, San Francisco, where he formed a partnership with Tully R. Wise, formerly United States District Attorney, and applied himself diligently to his

profession. In the Presidential election of 1868, he supported Seymour and Blair. He retains firmly the principles cherished through his entire political career.

Judge Tilford occupied a prominent place in the gifted band of orators whose appeals were wont, in the olden times, to thrill and electrify the hearts of the multitude; whose contests have become famous and whose achievements have passed into the history of the State. The voices of BAKER, FERGUSON, HAWKS and GRIFFITH, in life so eloquent, have long been hushed. Tilford remains among the few who not only witnessed their triumphs, but gathered laurels with them on the field of debate. He often recurs, with proud emotion, to his old companionship with those gallant spirits. As a political debater and popular speaker he has few equals in California. His prepared addresses to literary and benevolent associations, of which he has delivered many, are ripe and artistic productions. His command of language is remarkable and he is always effective in addressing a jury.

At this time Mr. Tilford is in the White Pine district, actively, and we trust, profitably, engaged in conducting litigation. His home is, however, still in San Francisco, and thither he expects, at no distant day, to return and spend the remainder of his life.

Frank Tilford has retired from the political arena. The conflicts of party and the contests of politicians possess no attractions for him. Hereafter, he will devote his talents and energies to professional pursuits, which, if less exciting, are in their results more satisfactory than the toils or triumphs of a partisan. In one respect he has been ever consistent, and to one aspiration always true his devotion to the advancement, and confidence in the grand destinies, of the Pacific Coast.

A glorious commonwealth of States, extending along the shores of the Pacific, from the Arctic circle to Panama, united by a common interest, with free institutions, a homogeneous population, and in the enjoyment of a degree of prosperity unparalleled in history, is now, and has been for the last twenty years, the cherished hope and day-dream of his existence.

Oration by F. Tilford,

AT THE METROPOLITAN THEATRE, SAN FRANCISCO, MARCH 17TH, 1863, ON THE HISTORY, RESOURCES AND GENIUS OF IRELAND.

man.

More than fourteen centuries have passed since the Saint whose venerated memory endears to our hearts the day we celebrate, carried the Cross of our Redeemer to the shores of Ireland. Never had heaven ordained a nobler Apostle, or sublimer mission. Thirty years before, the Saint had escaped by flight from servitude in the Island he was now revisiting. He returns to the scene of his youthful captivity, with no recollection of wrongs unavenged-with no purpose of signalizing by fire and sword the triumphs of a Conqueror. No martial music awakens the echoes of the lonely coastno army with banners salute him as their Chieftain-no retinue of steel-clad warriors draw their glittering blades at his command. Twenty men, eminent for their wisdom and sanctity, and armed only with the insignia of their priestly office, accompanied the holy Attended by these faithful disciples, and inspired by the power which had so often illumined his spirit in the sleepless vigils of the night, the Apostle of God went forth with unfaltering step, to encounter the Pagan host. The contest was soon decided: nor was the result doubtful. Wherever the voice of the Sainted Sage was heard, the temples of Idolatry were deserted, and their priests fled in dismay from the ensanguined altars. It is not my purpose to comment on the life of the Apostle; learned divines have already on this day, and on other occasions, eloquently performed that duty. Permit me, however, to dwell for a moment on one trait in the character of the revolution that St. Patrick inaugurated, which excites our special wonder, and deserves to be inscribed in golden letters on the pages of the world's history. It is the truth that during his entire mission, from the day he arrived in Leinster until the hour of his death, more than sixty years afterwards, not a life was sacrificed, nor a pang inflicted, to secure the imperishable, yet peaceful victories of the Cross. For thirteen centuries the Irish people have observed this day as a national anniversary. At the present hour the representatives of that race, in almost every country on the inhabitable globe, are celebrating the occasion with solemn rites or joyous festivities.

On the banks of the Shannon, in the mines of Australia, amid the orange groves of the Tropics, in the ruined cities of the Orient, and under the shade of the primeval forests which fringe the waters of the Mississippi, thousands of eyes will beam with rapture as they behold unfurled to the breeze, and radiant in the bright light of heaven, that symbol of nationality and emblem of freedom, the ancient banner of the "Harp and Sunburst." Thousands of gen

erous hearts will throb with exultation, as they recall the glorious memories of the Emerald Isle; memories, musical and immortal as the leaves of the Tooba tree which blooms only in the garden of Paradise, and "whose scent is the breath of eternity." The history of Ireland!-the very words awaken feelings unutterable in the heart of the exile. What intellect can do justice to the theme? As the rainbow is formed by the tears of the clouds and the rays of the sun, so are the annals of Erin colored and varied; now by the tears of sorrow, now by the flashes of wit and sunshine of joy.

But we have assembled not merely to please the imagination with visions of national renown, or glowing images of a cloudless future. Reality and truth exact other duties. The occasion irresistibly suggests to the reflective mind, thoughts and inquiries of a more serious character. Ireland was once not only independent, but one of the most powerful governments of Europe. Will she regain her ancient position? History teaches the melancholy truth that nations often rise like stars on the horizon of time, glitter awhile in the zenith of their glory, pass away and disappear in the gloom of darkling centuries. On the shores and in the deserts of Asia, and amid the forests of America, empires have flourished whose names have perished from the earth, and whose tombs are the only monuments which the hand of remorseless time has spared. The renown of Greece and Rome survives only in the pages of the historian. Florence, Venice and Genoa, were once gems in the diadem of modern Europe; they are now subjugated dependencies. of Austria. Is Ireland doomed to be the Pleiad lost among the nations of our era? Canada, Australia, and the West Indies have their colonial parliaments, are exempt from Imperial taxes, and independent in all but the name; while Ireland is a province of England-a mere appendage of the British crown. Regarding alone her present situation, it is difficult to realize that she has been a Kingdom, potent in arms and munificently endowed with all the elements of national prosperity. Yet it is true, that during the first twelve centuries of the Christian era, the Island was famous throughout the civilized world, for its treasures of gold and silver, its manufactures, institutions of learning, and advancements in the arts and sciences. In the sixth century, missionaries from Ireland traversed France, Switzerland and Germany, establishing churches and monasteries in every country they visited. When the legions of Rome carried the standard of the empire in triumph from the Euphrates to the Atlantic, and from the Mediterranean to the North Sea, the land of Erin maintained its liberties, and alone defied the armies of Cæsar and his successors. In the tenth century, while the remainder of Europe was enveloped in a night of profound ignorance, the Island was regarded and has been happily styled, "A beacon of learning in the West." Without pausing at present to investigate the causes which have reduced a brave and chivalrous people to a condition of vassalage, let us inquire: Has Ireland the resources, physical, moral and intellectual, to support in this age the rank of an independent nation? In the first place, her insular

position is no ordinary advantage for defensive purposes. England in her wars with various Continental Powers, for the last four hundred years, has experienced the benefit of this isolation. The Atlantic, as a barrier of defense between the States of America and the sovereignties of Europe, is worth to the former, millions of bayonets. The population of Ireland, twenty years ago, was some eight millions, two hundred thousand souls; and this number, (since reduced by emigration and other causes) we may reasonably assume she can always maintain. The Island contains an area of thirty-five thousand, five hundred and twelve square miles; of which there are fourteen millions, five hundred thousand acres of excellent arable land. The fruits and cereals of the temperate zone reward the labors of the husbandman more certainly and plenteously than in any other country on the Eastern Hemisphere. The fertility of the soil, like the beauty of the scenery, is proverbial, and has won for the Emerald Isle the proud appellation of the Eden of the west of Europe. Extensive coal formations abound in each of the four provinces. Mines of lead, copper, and iron-indeed, of all the metals required in manufactures and the useful arts are found in almost every part of the Island. More than a hundred streams, rising in the mountains of the interior, intersect the land, expanding at places into magnificent lakes, enriching the soil by annual overflows, and affording an amount of power for manufacturing purposes greater than that of England and Scotland combined. Beneficent nature has completed her favors to Ireland, by bestowing on it a mild and salubrious climate; the vapory winds from the Atlantic, the music of whose surging billows forever resounds from its shores, temper equally the vigor of winter, and the fervor of the summer solstice: so many and varied are the resources of this favored land, that it would require hours to recite them. The view suggested is all that the occasion permits. Other nations, with material advantages incomparably less, have achieved independence, and an honorable name among the powers of the earth. In our own age Belgium has separated from Holland; Greece has been rescued from the Ottoman Empire; Mexico and the States of South America have carved with their swords the way to freedom. tugal, in the sixteenth century, was for a time subjugated by Spain: a few determined spirits at Lisbon initiated a revolt which overthrew the Spanish domination, and secured the liberties of their country. Switzerland, with less than half the territory of Ireland, with no treasures and without an army, valiantly and successfuly warred with Austria for her independence. In vain the Imperial hordes invaded the indomitable Cantons: swifter than the mountain torrent leaps to the plains; more terrible than the Alpine avalanche; the brave Swiss dashed upon the legions of tyranny and drove them, reeling and shattered, from the sacred soil of Switzerland. Noble Switzerland! home of Tell: land of song, of art, and literature: the spirit of liberty reigns amid the snows of thy eternal glaciers, and looks down with brow serene, and undaunted eye, on the frowning despotisms which surround her. With ex

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