in the Emerald Isle bears a legend, and a memory of the remorseless invader. The traditions and plaintive songs of the people breathe of glories departed and wrongs unforgiven. The ruined shrines of her deserted churches, and the graves of her martyred heroes, speak to Ireland of woe and oppression. Shall they speak in vain? Shall the home of Sheridan and Grattan, of Curran and Moore, remain forever a province of England, and the heritage of the spoiler? Forbid it Earth! Forbid it Heaven! No: by the memory of her ancient renown, by the accumulated wrong of centuries, by all that is sacred in the past, or welcome in the future, let us swear that Erin shall yet be free. The hour may be deferred, but come it must, when the fiery cross shall speed through the Island, and summon its warlike clans to rally around the standard of the Harp and Sunburst. Then, when the beacon fires of liberty illume the darkness of night, and cast their cadence far across the waters of the Atlantic, let Meagher, Corcoran, Shields and Mitchel, erase from their swords every stain of fratricidal strife, and lead the embattled hosts of their countrymen to the rescue of Ireland. A hundred thousand Irish soldiers, disciplined in the wars of America and animated by the sacred love of freedom, will vanquish the legions of England, as the Simoom overwhelms the Caravans of the desert.

Natives of the Emerald Isle: whose hearts so often wander from these tranquil shores-to the scenes of your childhood, and the homes of your fathers, prepare for the day that is dawning. All have a solemn duty to perform.

Parents from the Emerald Isle: teach your children to venerate and cherish the name of Ireland; learn them the songs, ballads and traditions of your native land, and entwine around their youthful hearts devotion to the liberties of America, and the memories of Erin.

Maidens of the Emerald Isle: when in the twilight hour you chant a vesper hymn to the Virgin, or when in holy church your prayers ascend as grateful incense to Heaven, mingle with your orisons a prayer that Erin may yet be free!

Friends of Ireland: remember that discord in council and divission in action, have been deadlier foes to the Island than golden bribes or hostile bayonets-enemies fatal and pernicious as was:

"The fruit

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe."

Banish, then, personal jealousies, sectional differences, and labor with earnest and united minds for the emancipation of Ireland.

Citizen soldiers! when the wires shall flash across the continent the glorious intelligence that the Irish armies of the Atlantic are moving in the cause of Erin's Independence stand prepared to unfurl your banners, unsheath your gleaming blades, and march to the deliverance of your native land. When the storm of conflict shall

rage, and the clash of arms resound from the earth to the skies— when the green flag of Ireland waves in triumph above the Red Cross of St. George, may the column of the Pacific lead the vanguard of liberty, and their swords flash in the foremost ranks of victory.

And oh! in future ages, when the warrior bards shall strike their golden harps, and sing of battles fought and triumphs won in freedom's holy cause, may their noblest song consecrate to immortal fame the names and deeds of the Irish volunteers of California.

CALEB T. FAY.

BY THE EDITOR

ROM the date of the admission of California into the

been engaged in the successful prosecution of mercantile pursuits in the cities of Sacramento and San Francisco. His ancestors were among the early Massachusetts pioneers, and settled in the Eastern part of that State about the year 1640. His father was a merchant and farmer, and qualified all his sons for both occupations.

CALEB T. FAY was the fifth son of eight children, having six brothers and a sister. He was born at Southborough, Worcester County, Massachusetts, on the 13th day of April, 1821. He worked on his father's farm and attended a common school and academy until he attained majority; he then entered upon mercantile business, to which he applied himself for seven years. When he was twenty-eight years of age, the "fever" fever" consequent upon the discovery of gold in California, began to rage in Massachusetts with nearly as much violence as in New York; and, yielding to its influence, Mr. Fay left Boston early in the spring of 1849, bound for the Pacific, by way of Cape Horn. He felt that he was taking leave of the "land of steady habits," to struggle amid a multitude of adventurous men, intoxicated by excitement and spurred by the ardent desire for gain, to return, after a few years' hardships, with or without fortune, to his and his father's home.