if it

OF HAMILTON

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 cof fin! 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 fondest 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 Bay? 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." PRESIDENT NOTT.

REV. ELIPHALET NOTT was born in Ashford, Connecticut, in 1773, and passed his youth as a teacher, thereby acquiring the means of properly educating hint self. He received the degree of Master of Arts from Brown University in 1795, He 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, at the Commencement in July. A large number of graduates assembled, and addresses were delivered by President Wayland of Brown University, and Judge Campbell of New York. Dr. Nott also spoke with his old eloquence. His numerous papers in periodicals have been chiefly anonymous. His " Addresses to Young Men," "Temperance Addresses," and a collection of "Sermons," are his only published volumes.

1.

94. PASS ON, RELENTLESS WORLD.

WIFTER and swifter, day by day,

ST

Down Time's unquiet current hurl'd,'
Thou passest on thy restless way,

Tumultuous and unstable world!'
Thou passest on! Time hath not seen
Delay upon thy hurried path;"
And prayers and tears alike have been
In vain to stay thy course of wrath!"

2. Thou passest on, and with thee go

The loves of youth,' the cares of age;
And smiles and tears, and joy and woe,
Are on thy history's troubled page!
There, every day, like yesterday,

Writes hopes that end in mockery;
But who shall tear the veil away
Before the abyss of things to be?

'Hurled (horld).- Påss' est.- World (world).- Påth.- Prayers (prarz). Wrath.-' Youth.- Cares (kårz).-' There (thẳr).--'' Teår.

8. Thou passest on, and at thy side,

Even as a shade, Oblivion treads,
And o'er the dreams of human pride

His misty shroud forever spreads;
Where' all thine iron hand hath traced
Upon that gloomy scroll to-day,
With records ages since effaced,—
Like them shall live, like them decay.
4. Thou passest on, with thee the vain,
Who sport upon thy flaunting blaze,
Pride, framed of dust and folly's train,
Who court thy love, and run thy ways:
But thou and I,—and be it so,—

Press onward to eternity;

Yět not together let us go

To that deep-voiced but shōreless sea.
5. Thou hast thy friends,-I would have mine;
Thou hast thy thoughts,-leave me my own;
I kneel not at thy gilded shrine,

I bow not at thy slavish throne:
I see them pass without a sigh,—
They wake no swelling raptures now,
The fierce delights that fire thine eye,
The triumphs of thy haughty brow.
6. Pass on, relentless world! I grieve

No more for all that thou hast riven;
Pass on, in God's name,-only leave
The things thou never yet hast given—
A heart at ease, a mind at home,

Affections fix'd above thy sway,
Faith set upon a world to come,

And patience through life's little day.

GEORGE LUNT.

GEORGE LUNT, born at Newburyport, Massachusetts, was graduated at Har Fard in 1824; was admitted to the bar in 1831; practiced for a while at his na ive 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

'Where (whår).—' Flåunt' ing.

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.

I CAN not too strongly urge upon the young the advantage of committing to memory the choicest passages in prose and poëtry in English literature. What we learn thoroughly when young, remains by us through life. "Sir," said the great Dr. Johnson' to Boswell," in my carly days I read very hard. It is a sad reflection, but a true one, that I knew almost as much at eighteen as I do now. My judgment, to be sure, was not so good; but I had all the facts. I remember very well when I was at Oxford, an old gentleman said to me, 'Young man, ply your book diligently now, and acquire a stock of knowledge; for when years come unto you, you will find that poring upon books will be but an irksome task.'

II. INJUDICIOUS HASTE IN STUDY.-LOCKE.'

THE eagerness and strong bent of the mind after knowledge, if not warily regulated, is often a hinderance to it. It still presses into further discoveries and new objects, and catches at the variety of knowledge, and therefore often stays not lòng enough on what is before it, to look into it as it should, for haste to pursue what is yet out of sight. He that rides post through a country may be able, from the transient view, to tell in general how the parts lic, and may be able to give some loose description of here a mountain and there a plain, here a morăss' and there a river; woodland in one part and savannas in another. Such superficial ideas and observations as these he may collect in galloping over it; but the more useful observations of the soil, plants, animals, and inhabitants, with their several sorts and properties, must necessarily escape him; and it is seldom men ever discover the rich mines without some digging. Nature

DR. JOHNSON, see Biographical Sketch, p. 230.-- JAMES BOSWELL, the friend and biographer of Dr. Johnson, born 1740, and died 1795.LOCKм, see p. 213, note 3. There' fore.

8

commonly lodges her treasures and jewels in rocky ground. If the matter be knotty, and the sense lies deep, the mind must stop and buckle to it, and stick upon it with labor, and thought, and close contemplation, and not leave it until it has mastered the difficulty and got possession of truth. But here, care must be taken to avoid the other extreme: a man must not stick at every useless nicety, and expect mysterics of science in every trivial question or scruple that he may raise. He that will stand to pick up and examine every pebble that comes in his way, is as unlikely to return enriched and laded with jewels, as the other that traveled fuil speed. Truths are not the better nor the worse for their obviousness or difficulty, but their value is to be measured by their usefulness and tendency. Insignificant observations should not take up any of our minutes; and those that enlarge our view, and give light toward further and useful discoveries, should not be neglected, though they stop our course, and spend some of our time in a fixed attention.

III. STUDIES. BACON.'

STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business; for expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots and marshaling of affairs, come best from those that are learned. To spend too much time in studies, is sloth; to use them too much for ornament, is affectation; to make judg ment wholly by their rules, is the humor of a scholar; they perfect nature, and are perfected by experience-for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need pruning by study; and studies themselves do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use thein; for they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some booki

'BACON, see p. 213, note 1.