A II. 87. THE DEATH OF HAMILTON. SHORT time since, and he, who is the occasion of our sorrows, was the ornament of his country. He stood on an eminence, and glory covered him. From that eminence he has fallen: suddenly, forever fallen. His intercourse with the living world is now ended; and those who would hereafter find him, must seek him in the grave. There, cold and lifeless, is the heart which just now was the seat of friendship; there, dim and sightless, is the eye, whose radiant and enlivening orb beamed with intelligence; and there, closed forever, are those lips, on whose persuasive accents we have so often, and so lately hung with transport! 2. From the darkness which rests upon his tomb there proceeds, methinks, a light, in which it is clearly seen, that those gaudy objects which men pursue are only phantoms. In this light how dimly shines the splendor of victory-how humble appears the majesty of grandeur! The bubble, which seemed to have so much solidity, has burst; and we again see, that all below the sun is vanity. 3. True, the funeral eulogy has been pronounced, the sad and solemn procession has moved, the badge of mourning has already been decreed, and presently the sculptured marble will lift up its front, proud to perpetuate the name of Hamilton, and rehearse to the passing traveler his virtues (just tributes of respect, and to the living useful); but to him, moldering in his narrow and humble habitation, what are they? How vain! how unavailing! 4. Approach, and behold, while I lift from his sepulcher its covering! Ye admirers of his greatness! ye emulous of his talents and his fame! approach and behold him now. How pale! how silent! No martial bands admire the adroitness of his movements; no fascinating throng weep, and melt, and tremble at his eloquence! Amazing change! a shroud! a coffin! a narrow, subterraneous cabin!- this is all that now remains of Hamilton! And is this all that remains of Hamilton? During a life so transitory, what lasting monument, then, can our fondèst hopes erect! 5. My brethren, we stand on the borders of an awful gulf, which is swallowing up all things human. And is there, amidst this universal wreck, nothing stable, nothing abiding, nothing immortal, on which poor, frail, dying man can fasten? Ask the hero, ask the statesman, whose wisdom you have been accustomed to revere, and he will tell you. He will tell you, did I say? He has already told you, from his death-bed; and his illumined spirit still whispers from the heavens, with well-known eloquence, the solemn admonition: "Mortals hastening to the tomb, and once the companions of my pilgrimage, take warning and avoid my errors; cultivate the virtues I have recommended; choose the Saviour I have chosen: live disinterestedly; live for immortality; and would you rescue any thing from final dissolution, lay it up in God." NOTT. ELIPHALET NOTT, D.D., LL.D., was born in Ashford, Connecticut, in 1773, and passed his youth as a teacher, thereby acquiring the means of educating himself. He received the degree of Master of Arts from Brown University in 1795. Не soon after established himself as clergyman and principal of an academy at Cherry Valley, in the State of New York. From 1798 to his election as president of Union College, in 1803, he was pastor of the Presbyterian Church, at Albany, where he delivered a discourse "On the Death of Hamilton," from which the above extract is taken. In 1854, the fiftieth anniversary of Dr. Nott's presidency was celebrated at Union College, at the Commencement in July. Very many graduates assembled, and addresses were delivered by Dr. Wayland of Brown University, and Judge Campbell of New York. Dr. Nott also spoke with his old eloquence. His "Addresses to Young Men," "Temperance Addresses," and a collection of "Sermons," are his only published volumes. He died in 1866. III. 88. PASS ON, RELENTLESS WORLD. S WIFTER and swifter, day by day, Thou passèst on thy restless way, There, every day, like yesterday, 3. Thou passest on, and at thy side, 4. Thou passest on, with thee the vain, To that deep-voiced but shōrelèss sea. 5. Thou hast thy friends, -I would have mine; Thou hast thy thoughts, -leave me my own; I bow not at thy slavish throne : 6. Pass on, relentless world! I grieve And patience through life's little day. LUNT. GEORGE LUNT, born at Newburyport, Massachusetts, was graduated at Harvard in 1824; admitted to the bar in 1831; practiced for a while at his native place, and since 1848 has pursued the profession in Boston. He published his first volume of poems in 1839, followed in 1843 by "The Age of Gold and other Poems," and in 1854 by "Lyric Poems, Sonnets, and Miscellanies." His novel of New England life, entitled "Eastford, or Household Sketches, by Westley Brooke," was also published in 1854. T IV. 89. THE WORLD FOR SALE. THE WORLD FOR SALE! - Hang out the sign; And set me from earth's bondage free ? 'Tis going!-yes, I mean to fling 2. It is a glorious thing to see, - For sale! It shall be mine no more. Who bids ?-Who'll buy the splendid Tear? Who'll buy the heavy heaps of care? 4. Here's LOVE, the dreamy potent spell 5. And FRIENDSHIP, -rarèst gem of earth,- 6. FAME! hold the brilliant meteör high; How much for Fame? - How much for Fame? On high Olympus,1 far renowned, - 7. Sweet star of Hope! with ray to shine This treasure should my soul sustain; But Hope and I are now at strife, 8. And SONG! For sale my tūnelèss lute; 9. Ambition, fashion, show, and pride,- Has taught my haughty heart to bow. Olympus, a mountain range of Thessaly, on the border of Macedonia. Its summit, famed by Ho mer and other poets as the throne of the gods, is estimated to be 9,745 feet high. |