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Page: of 283
NEVADA JOURNAL JANUARY 23, 1857 17
yesterday. Previous to his death he presented the rare instance of a man to all appearances dead
with the exception of the head, and yet retaining the full possession of his mental faculties.
THEATRE.—The Nevada Theatre will open again on Monday night next, by a company among
whom we see the names of Mrs. Julia Dean Hayne, the star of the California boards, Mrs. Judah, Mrs.
Rand, Charles Pope, Geo. Ryer, Mr. Rand, and a number of others whose names are favorably known in
California.
A house at the head of Main street was discovered on fire Tuesday morning about 5 o’clock, by a
milkman. The house had not been occupied for several months, and the fire was no doubt the work of
some human fiend.
WILLIAM WALKER.
The world despises little rascals, and respects big ones. Steal five dollars, and you are a
thief—worthy of the jail or the whipping post. Steal a million, and we will praise your skill, and call you
gentleman, and doff our hats to you as you pass. Honesty, in great matters as well as small ones, is made a
virtue by the catechism and school primers. It will do for children—that code of old fashioned integrity
which our fathers thought was good to live and die by. It will not do for us, “children of a larger growth.”
We have another code. For “Thou shall not steal” we say, “Thou shall not steal sma// amounts”; and for
“Be just, and fear not” we substitute “Be successful and fear not.” If Honest Harry Meiggs should land in
California to-morrow, there are men enough who would shake him by the hand, and welcome him, and
protect him if possible from the penalties of the law. Very few, except those whom he has injured, would
curse him, and demand vengeance and justice on his head. If William Walker had landed in San Francisco
a few months ago, he would have been received with ovations and rejoicings—like a hero returning from
a glorious war. There would have been dinners, and presentations, and speeches. There would have been
biographies all eulogy—and engravings all forehead—with “an eye like Jove’s to threaten and
command.” The prestige of success would have covered like a mantle, all the sins of his selfish and
reckless career. .. .
What right have Walker and his crew to any such demonstrations of sympathy? They landed on the
territory of a nation with whom they had nothing whatever to do, and without a shadow of claim, by the
mere right of the strongest, made themselves for a brief time masters of the state. Over an indolent and
degenerate tropical race, the rigor and energy of Anglo-Saxons were of course victorious. But the natives,
inferior in all the appliances of war except numbers, maintain the struggle in spite of defeat, as even an
effeminate race will, fighting for liberty and the integrity of their nation. Now, the invaders are rapidly
falling before the deadly influences of the climate of Nicaragua, and there is little left to them but a choice
between annihilation and retreat, which is disgrace.
So the good liberty-loving citizens of New York and other towns in the Union, are calling meetings,
and raising supplies, and pronouncing eulogies on Walker, and martyrizing him and his followers. It is
true, the man is daring and skillful. So were the buccaneers of the Spanish main; and Walker’s patriotism
and philanthropy are equal to theirs. Throughout his whole career, lately in Sonora, and now in
Nicaragua, we can see no evidence of any higher or better motive than actuates any cut-purse or brigand.
We do not care what ends parties or politicians may hope to gain by the theft of Nicaragua; the sympathy
and aid which the American people extend to such acts of flagrant wrong is, and should be, a disgrace to
us in the eyes of all the world. We cry “Jiberty!” and when a weak people are struggling and suffering in
her cause, fighting on their own soil to protect their hearths and altars, we shout for the invaders, and