But to his closing eyes, for all were there,
Nothing was wanting; and, through many a year
We shall remember with a fond delight

The words so precious which we heard to-night;
His parting, though a while our sorrow flows,
Like setting suns or music at the close!

Then was the drama ended. Not till then,
So full of chance and change the lives of men,
Could we pronounce him happy. Then secure
From pain, from grief, and all that we endure,
He slept in peace-say rather soared to Heaven,
Upborne from earth by Him to whom 't is given
In his right hand to hold the golden key
That opes the portals of Eternity.

When by a good man's grave I muse alone,
Methinks an angel sits upon the stone,
And, with a voice inspiring joy, not fear,
Says, pointing upward, "Know, he is not here!"
But let us hence; for now the day is spent,
And stars are kindling in the firmament,

55

To us how silent!-though like ours perchance
Busy and full of life and circumstance;

Where some the paths of Wealth and Power pursue,
Of Pleasure some, of Happiness a few;

And, as the sun goes round

a sun not ours

While from her lap another Nature showers
Gifts of her own, some from the crowd retire,
Think on themselves, within, without inquire;
At distance dwell on all that passes there,
All that their world reveals of good and fair;
Trace out the journey through their little day,
And dream, like me, an idle hour away.

NOTES.

(1) See the Iliad, 1. xviii. v. 496.

(2) "Nil actum credens, dum quid superesset agendum."- Lucan II. 657.

(3) See Bossuet, Sermon sur la Résurrection.

(4) I have considerel," says Solomon, "all the works that are under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit." But who believes it, till Death tells it us? It is Death alone that can make man to know himself. He tells the proud and insolent that they are but abjects, and humbles them at the instant. He takes the account of the rich man, and proves him a beggar,- -a naked beggar. He holds a glass before the eyes of the most beautiful, and makes them see therein their deformity; and they acknowledge it

O eloquent, just and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none have dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world have flattered, thou only hast cast out and despised; thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hic jacet.

Raleigh.

(5) Among the most precious gifts with which the Almighty has rewarded us for our diligence in the investigation of his works are the Telescope and the Microscope. They came as it were by chance; they came we know not how; and "they have laid open the infinite in both directions." But what may not come in like manner; when from the situation of a pebble may be learnt the state of the earth, many myriads of ages ago, before it was inhabited by man; and when the fall of an apple to the ground has led us to the knowledge of those laws which regulate every world as it revolves in its orbit? See Sir John Herschel's excellent Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy.

(6) How much is it to be lamented that the greatest benefactors of mankind, being beyond the age they live in, are so seldom understood before they are gone!

Fancy can hardly forbear to conjecture with what temper Milton surveyed the silent progress of his work, and marked his reputation stealing its way in a kind of subterraneous current through fear and silence. I cannot but conceive him calm and confident, little disappointed, not at all dejected, relying on his own merit with steady consciousness, and waiting, without impatience, the vicissitudes of opinion and the impartiality of a future generation. Johnson.

After this line, in the MS.

O'er place and time we triumph; on we go,
Ranging at will the realms above, below;
Yet, ah! how little of ourselves we know !

And why the heart beats on, or how the brain
Says to the foot, "Now move, now rest again."
From age to age we search, and search in vain.

(8) An allusion to John Howard. "Wherever he came, in whatever country, the prisons and hospitals were thrown open to him as to the general censor. Such is the force of pure and exalted virtue ! "

(9) Aristotle's definition of Friendship, "one soul in two bodies," is well exemplified by some ancient author in a dialogue between Ajax and Achilles. "Of all the wounds you ever received in battle," says Ajax, "which was the most painful to you?"-"That which I received from Hector," replies Achilles. "But Hector never gave you a wound?" "Yes, and a mortal one; when he slew my friend, Patroclus."

(10) This light, which is so heavenly in its lustre, and which is everywhere and on everything when we look round us on our arrival here; which, while it lasts, never leaves us, rejoicing us by night as well as by day and lighting up our very dreams; yet, when it fades, fades so fast, and, when it goes, goes out forever, we may address it in the words of the poet, words which we might apply so often in this transitory life:

Too soon your value from your loss we learn!

R. Sharp's Epistles in Verse, ii.

(11) See "Observations on a Diamond that shines in the dark.”—Boyle's Works, L. 789

(12) Cicero, in his Essay De Senectute, has drawn his images from the better walks of life; and Shakspeare, in his Seven Ages, has done so too. But Shakspeare treats his subject satirically; Cicero, as a philosopher. In the venerable portrait of Cato we discover no traces of "the lean and slippered pantaloon."

Every object has a bright and a dark side; and I have endeavored to look at things as Cicero has done. By some, however, I may be thought to have followed too much my own dream of happiness; and in such a dream indeed I have often passed a solitary hour. It was castle-building once; now it is no longer so. But whoever would try to realize it would not perhaps repent of his endeavor.

(13) A Persian poet has left us a beautiful thought on this subject, which the reader, if he has not met with it, will be glad to know, and, if he has, to remember.

Thee on thy mother's knees, a new-born child,

In tears we saw, when all around thee smiled.
So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep,
Smiles may be thine, when all around thee weep.

(14) The anecdote here alluded to is related by Valerius Maximus, Lib. iv. c. 4.

(15) In our early youth, while yet we live only among those we love, we love without restraint, and our hearts overflow in every look, word and action. But when we enter the world, and are repulsed by strangers, forgotten by friends, we grow more and more timid in our approaches even to those we love best.

How delightful to us, then, are the little caresses of children! All sincerity, all affection, they fly into our arms; and then, and then only, do we feel our first confidence, our first pleasure.

(16) This is a law of nature. Age was anciently synonymous with power; and we may always observe that the old are held in more or less honor as men are more or less virtu"Shame," says Homer, "bids the youth beware how he accosts the man of many

ous.

years." "Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of an old man." -Leviticus.

Among us, and wherever birth and possessions give rank and authority, the young and the profligate are seen continually above the old and the worthy; there age can never find its due respect. But among many of the ancient nations it was otherwise; and they reaped the benefit of it. Rien ne maintient plus les mœurs, qu'une extrême subordination des jeunes gens envers les vieillards. Les uns et les autres seront contenus, ceuxlà

par le respect qu'ils auront pour les vieillards, et ceuxci par le respect qu'ils auront pour eux-mêmes.

Montesquieu.

(17) How many generations have passed away, how many empires and how many languages, since Homer sung his verses to the Greeks! Yet the words which he uttered, and which were only so much fleeting breath, remain almost entire to this day, and will now, in all probability, continue to delight and instruct mankind as long as the world endures.

(18) Before I went into Germany, I came to Brodegate in Leicestershire, to take my leave of that noble Lady Jane Grey, to whom I was exceeding much beholding. Her parents, the duke and duchess, with all the household, gentlemen and gentlewomen, were hunting in the park. I found her in her chamber reading Phædo Platonis in Greek, and that with as much delight as some gentlemen would read a merry tale in Boccace. After salutation, and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her why she would lose such pastime in the park? Smiling, she answered me, "I wist, all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that pleasure which I find in Plato."― Roger Ascham.

(19) Dante in his old age was pointed out to Petrarch when a boy; and Dryden to Pope.

Who does not wish that Dante and Dryden could have known the value of the homage that was paid them, and foreseen the greatness of their young admirers?

(20) He had arrived at Naples, and was preparing to visit Sicily and Greece, when, hearing of the troubles in England, he thought it proper to hasten home.

(21) I began thus far to assent . . . to an inward prompting which now grew daily upon me, that by labor and intent study (which I take to be my portion in this life), joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to aftertimes as they should not willingly let it die. - Milton.

Nor can his wish be unfulfilled. Calumniated in his lifetime and writing what few would read, he left it to a voice which none could silence, -a voice which would deliver it to all nations, -in the Old World and the New.

A good book (to quote his own words) is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, and to destroy it is to slay an immortality rather than a life.

(22) Love and devotion are said to be nearly allied. Boccaccio fell in love at Naples in the church of St. Lorenzo; as Petrarch had done at Avignon in the church of St. Clair.

(23) Is it not true that the young not only appear to be, but really are, most beautiful in the presence of those they love? It calls forth all their beauty.

(24) Xenophon has left us a delightful instance of conjugal affection. The King of Armenia not fulfilling his promise, Cyrus entered the country, and having taken him and all his family prisoners, ordered them instantly before him. Armenian, said he, you are free; for you are now sensible of your error. And what will you give me, if I restore your wife to you?- All that I am able. What, if I restore your children? - All that I am able. And you, Tigranes, said he, turning to the son, what would you do to save your wife from servitude? Now, Tigranes was but lately married, and had a great

love for his wife. Cyrus, he replied, to save her from servitude, I would willingly lay down my life.

Let each have his own again, said Cyrus; and, when he was departed, one spoke of his clemency, and another of his valor, and another of his beauty and the graces of his person. Upon which Tigranes asked his wife if she thought him handsome. Really, said she, I did not look at him.- At whom then did you look ?—At him who said he would lay down his life for me.-Cyropædia, L. III.

(25) "When such is the ruling, the habitual sentiment of our minds," says Paley, "the world becomes a temple, and life itself one continued act of worship." We breathe aspirations all day long.

(26) Hers the mournful privilege, "adsidere valetudini, fovere deficientem, satiari vultu, complexu."-Tacitus.

(27) We may have many friends in life; but we can only have one mother; "a discovery," says Gray, "which I never made till it was too late."

The child is no sooner born than he clings to his mother; nor, while she lives, is her image absent from him in the hour of his distress. Sir John Moore, when he fell from his horse in the battle of Corunna, faltered out with his dying breath some message to his mother; and who can forget the last words of Conradin, when, in his fifteenth year, he was led forth to die at Naples, "O my mother! how great will be your grief, when you hear of it!"

(28) How exquisite are those lines of Petrarch!

Le crespe chiome d'or puro lucente,
E'l lampeggiar d'ell angelico riso,
Che solean far in terrà un paradiso,

Poca polvere son, che nulla sente.

(29) These circumstances, as well as some others that follow, are happily, as far as they regard England, of an ancient date. To us the miseries inflicted by a foreign invader are now known only by description. Many generations have passed away since our country-women saw the smoke of an enemy's camp.

But the same passions are always at work everywhere, and their effects are always nearly the same; though the circumstances that attend them are infinitely various.

(30) Si tout cela consistoit en faits, en actions, en paroles, on pourroit le décrire et le rendre en quelque façon: mais comment dire ce qui n'étoit ni dit, ni fait, ni pensé même, mais goûté, mais senti. Le vrai bonheur ne se décrit pas. Rousseau.

(31) How welcome to an old man is the society of a young one! He, who is here mentioned, would propose a walk wherever we were, unworthy as I was of his notice; and one as great, if not greater, when we were interrupted in his library at St. Anne's, and I withdrew but for a moment to write down what I wished so much to remember, would say when I returned, "Why do you leave me?" words which few would forget, and which come again and again to me when half a century is gone by.

(32) So many pathetic affections are awakened by every exercise of social devotion, that most men, I believe, carry away from public worship a better temper towards the rest of mankind than they brought with them. Having all one interest to secure, one Lord to serve, one judgment to look forward to, we cannot but remember our common relationship, and our natural equality is forced upon our thoughts. The distinctions of civil life are almost always insisted upon too much, and whatever conduces to restore the level improves the character on both sides. If ever the poor man holds up his head, it is at