DISCOURSE OCCASION ED '13 Y TIIE DEATH OF DANIEL WEBSTER, If) EI..l‘VI'3I?.ICI‘) IN THE UNI'I‘AiRIAN 01:51 uJ3:.(;:I:1:, N133 W :13 11: :1.:>1;~‘o.1m, NOV”Ii}hl]f3I51R M, 1.8553. 13 Y J (I) II N 13?} fl" BOSTON AND CABIBRIDGE: JAMES MUNROE AND ‘COMPANY. MDCCCLIII. DISOOURSE. ...—.....u—..-a-uu..................,........»........... ..- I-IEBREWS XII. 2. LOOKING UNTO JESUS, TI~IE AUTHOR AND FINISIIICII OF OUR .I7‘AlTIl-I. THIs text is chosen not to supply the special subject of this discourse, but to anticipate its direction, and to suggest the Christian standard With which the deeds of all men must be compared. Let us admit the Christian spirit to give its support and color to our meditations. Much time must elapse be1"ore any day will be found too late to bring before the people the death of our great statesman, and to describe its varied influence. It will be lo11g,c too, before any criticism of his mind and moral nature can assume to be sufficiently just and also sufficiently complete. A few results of his career are too near to us: they usurp the examination which ought to be devoted impartially to the long parallel development of his hidden life and of his public service. We would not undertake to measure a pyramid standing at its 4 base: much less to judge of the form, complexion, proportions and defects of that mysterious presence, a human soul, no matter how humble its stature, While its departure surrounds us in an instant with the fragments of a lifetime. For only God enjoys that great advantage from which a righteous judg- ment can proceed, that, namely, of being present at the secret epochs of thought and motive, to witness the true germination of the man. Nevertheless, we cannot surrender a great mind to God’s behests, with- out being flooded with suggestions Which, perhaps, do us a better service than a just and exhaustive criticism Would, because they penetrate the imagina- tion and carry away our best emotions beyond visible things: they bring with them great words into the “heart, —-—- God, Life, Duty, the liluture. And how generous has God been to our natures, in this respect, that the death of even the least of his children is able to remind us of those pregnant Words. Such, if We seek no farther, will be the valuable influence of Mr. Webste1"s death upon us. I am conscious that in speal~;ing his name I awaken personal recollections: he was known to many pres- ent. The feelings acknowledge it to be just that his name should be pronounced here. You have met him at the bar, at the seat of government, in private life. You have letters which become more valuable as the composing hand decays: you possess 5 reminiscences of his presence that are now pleasant in the sound of his name. The shores of this bay and its islands” were familiar to him. His name rests on the pages of Naushon’s island-boolst, where it will be often sought as a memorial of some of his most genial hours, when he escaped from the vexed air of public service, to pursue his manly pleasures in the waters and the grand old woods of that estate. VVhatever else betide, these are pleasant and peaceful memories, and you are all incapable of recollecting that he is dead, and never more to im- press your mortal Vision, without feeling that praise or blame are far less solemn to you than the moment which bore him safe beyond the touch of either, and left you beholding his remains. Therefore we still stand at his funeral: to the imagination, that crowd of unexampled magnitude seems to include us, and to be still remaining controlled by the pathetic suggestions which were the unseen attendants at his burial. The few days which preceded his death were grave and silent days to all of us. I know of nothing more affecting to the imagination, than to be held in suspense while a great intellect lifts slowly its anchors and drifts away beyond our horizon. For hours and days it loosens from the ground, till at last the heavy burden “ hath one poor string to stay it by:” that holds briefly, only for a tear, a kiss, or 6 an embrace, and then-—-—into What places have this power and brightness passed’! Blankness and inex- orable silence steps between, lest a si:ngle Whisper of the new experience gratify our passionate speculation. This intelligence, that but a moment before shed its tranquil sunset of smiles through the gloom of the chamber, and seemed to be so native to the earth and to the regards of friends, in an instant passes across a mighty gulf, and the grave is not more mute, the suns of other Worlds not more removed. The imagination waits at the spot where the earth broke before it, and collects itself to follow: it trains its powers and spurns the ground, and almost fiercely buffets the fatal darkness, but it wins no tidings of this great mind, nor of the state to which its faculties begin to be adjusted. The popular meta- phor which says that a light has been extinguished, describes the knowledge which repays our €Xpl01'atlO11S. And yet, if We were summoned on a clear night to look While God should blot some particular light in the firmament, our souls would not partake a tithe of the awe and pathos which they feel to see the great familiar orb of our daily heavens, Whose light enriched us, Whose magnetic influence embraced us, roll ofl its orbit, and leave us gazing at the Void. What questions assail the mind at such a time, With all their eager tenderness getting blank silence for an answer! Wliat are the new proportions of this '7 great intellect, what is the subtle symmetry which now invests it, and to what task is it assigned? Who are the spirits that first gather around it, and do they aid it in receiving its new conditions, or do they encircle it with celestial rebuke, remembering its mortal errors’! ‘What texts of Scripture partake its resurrectio1j_1, the promises or the condemnations, and is the infinite compassion freely rendered to the dread isolation of its memories in Do not the family spirits wait to secure a first sweet impression for the new life’! Do long buried statesmen and orators whose words kindled high moments in this great spirit, and whose thought invigorated its intelligence, come to reason with it upon the imperfections of L human legislation? Do apostles visit it, to lead it back to its best moments and its freest words, then to send it from planet to planet to suggest the un- defiled gospel to the hearts of mighty men’! All these, and more, wait to be answered. The departure of such an intellect sets loose again every mortal surmise: the imagination is besieged by every ques- tion that was ever asked concerning the prospects of the human soul. Mixed with all this renewed conjecture, is ,a feeling of pathos, such as few human situations supply, at the loss of so much accumulated wisdom, of such a well-l-trained mind, of such a magnetic organization that made every speech an ‘atmosphere from which 8 none could escape, of such a clear vision upon the level of politics and through the crowd of objects to which statesmanship applies. ‘We are almost ready to exclaim-——~“ To What purpose is this Waste?” We wonder why so much weighty expression, such power to malsze a perspicuous statement that shall bring to view the thing Worth seeing, such _lr11o\vleclge of treaties and of the laws which hold the nations in amity, such forensic ability which picks its facts, and gives to the decisive one its fit proportions, so that no case in the country shall he so solemn or intricate as to fail of a safe decision, should be per- mitted to culminate in a single mind, guaranteed continually by appropriate triumphs, till men came to regard it almost as an elemental force, only at last, in the tolling of a bell, to be struck out of our daily experience. I say there is great pathos in the sight of such a catastroplicz the training and the grave assidnity which build up a great mind or character seem to be so lightly treated, as if the toils and the Well-balanced powers of a varied life- time were the costly playthings of destiny, permitted, only to he fated, and at last squandered at the moment .of their highest estimation in the minds of men. It seems so great a pity that nature provides no method to make the personal presence of human C-3X- perience heritable, N that the gifts may continue to be 9 enforced by that peculiar power which he has, whose growth and substance they are. Thought may be- come fixed upon the printed page, but we wish to see it in motion, eXpa11cli11g with the lungs, beating with the heart, lightening out of the eyes’ recesses. Soon the fathers only will be left to transmit the tradition of the great man’s presence, and to say, while. repeating some of the swelling periods, “ Here the form rose, and sent forth its strong vibrations,” or, “Here thunder broke in the clear air,” or, “Here the level beams of his daylight softly penetrated with conviction.” But posterity at first will turn a greedy ear to those fond recitals, and end with the surmise that they were the exaggerations of personal enthu-~ siasm, so much do the statesman’s words need a crisis, a_nd a man penetrated with the faith that he declares. More pathetic still does our emotion be- come whe11 we anticipate the future, but no longer under the guidance of the clear sense and the strong will, no longer marshalled thitherward by many gifts, which tread stately and assured, being themselves directed by a few simple principles of knowledge and legislation. The l111l{I1OW1’1 emergencies are measured by the known resources, which have just died to the stimulus of patriotism or ambition: and however much we may have criticised the great man’s course when living, now that he is dead, we imagine many a nettle of danger out of which his grasp might 9 . I‘-J 10 pluck the flower of safety, and We ask, “ In whom will Providence unite equal prudence with equal sway ‘F’ Nature has produced her men for centuries, who have solved moments of doubt and panic, or originated laws and systems, by speakirig the provi- dential word: she may be trusted, then, to meet all future contingencies. Her great children, in turning to dust again, seem to reinforce and perpetuate her fertility; and Where they fall, another growth is sure to spring that shall renew the old shel.ter and furnish spars to rock in every storm. But when We look up and find our heads bared to the Weather, the beauty and inajesty that interposed now prone along the ground, it seems to our grief that no shade again can stretch so broadly, or no shaft be buttressecl so mightily against the sky. It is not worth while to bring the points of ser- vice in the course of Mr. VVebster before you, who are so well acquainted With them. Public addresses have also partly anticipated such an effort. It strilszes us, as a result of Mr. ‘Webster’s personal impressive- ness, that all the eulogies have been so level with the greatness of the loss. Some things may have been over-stated, through generous emotion; but the words spol:en seemed like echoes, subservient to a mighty sound, repeating and prolonging its quality. But at least one prominent characteristic of his public course has been very meagrely noticed. Its 11 importance has been undervalued, and some who A have not been Willing to follow him in that direction With equal step, have sought to explain it away. I refer to his uncompromising statements of the rela- tion of the American principle to foreign afiairs. Here he broke new ground, and his speeches sug- gest the policy of this country in the ample and untried scenes which are rapidly opening before her. Our practice of self-governnieiit rejects instinctively the doctrine of absolute neutrality. Japan may, for a little While longer, successfully maintain her isolation, for she possesses no principles that imperiously demand expansion. But to expect that a country Whose growth and g‘1“G&t11GSS are close to the root of the republican principle, and whom therefore all the forces of nature are compelling; to diffuse herself, to repeat her youn.g success, to establish her l1ap_pi- ness Wherever there are hearts enough that strongly desire it, can, if it Would, annihilate its own vitality, is to expect that God has suddenly reversed the laws of grmvtli, and intends to falsify the history of all the earth’s old republics. That a nation which governs itself should generalize its principle, is just as inevitable as that a monarchy should ceriu tralize, and a despotism exhaust the artificial eriergies of its armies in unmeaning wars. It is an axiom of history, that a republic never ceases to propagate its ideas till its original impulse has expired. It 12 is the mightiest propagandist polity on earth. It finds the secrets of all human hearts in unison with its own instinct: for God predestined self-government for men. Under the guidance of minds that have prudence, but share none the less the expansive power which is our country’s instinct, the doctrine of Mr. ‘VVebster is both safe and generous. In his speech upon the Greek Question, where he exposes the secret motives of the Holy Alliance, and shows that the principle of compression and intervention, which the cabal of monarchs represented, would not be applied to us only for lack of means and oppor- tunity, he holds the following language 2 -~--—— “ It may now be required of me to show what interest we have in resisting this new system. I think it is a sufficient answer to this to say, that We are one of the nations of the earth; that we have an interest, therefore, in the preservation of that system of national law and national intercourse which has heretofore ‘subsisted, so beneficially for all.” “ We have a duty connected with this subject, which I trust we are willing to perform. What do we not owe to the principle, that society has a right to partake in its own government’! As the leading g republic of the world, living and breathing in these principles, and advanced, by their operation, with unequalled rapidity in our career, shall We give our consent to bring them into disrepute and disgrace?” 13 “Does it not become us, then, is it not a duty imposed on us, to give our Weight to the side of liberty and justice, to let mankind know that We are not tired of our institutions, and to protest against the asserted power of altering at pleasure the law of the civilized World?” The doctrine of Mr. Web- ster does not countenance the spirit of War; and in the hands of one Who, like him, had an accurate knowledge of all treaties and knew how to respect them, the American principle would become efici- ently organized Without forays and fighting. Had he lived to see the times that are before us, he would protect and foster public sympathy, he would crush the doctrine that monarchs can league to in- terfere beyond their limits, by clear Words that should compel respect for international law; he would send his commissioner to countenance the people in their rising, and maintain him as a significant representa- tive of American opinion. Behind the battles of his speech the silent Weight of the country would gather to make a spirit for each Word, and to lend a gigantic personality to his invisible protest. In the future, what man is there who will at once save us from the quarrels which the restless and unprin- cipled foment, and devote a true ardor to the propa- gation of our genuine ideas; who will discriminate between the criminal ambition to absorb the heritages of the weak, and the generous desire to grasp our 14 mighty influence with kindred hand, and plant it Where usurping strength shall find it forever a bar» rier to its designs? That life which could have served the country best in these grave contingencies, has borne to other spheres its varied experience, its clear distinctions, and its great reserve of power. Yes»-——novv that it is too late, it is easy to see that Mr. VVebster, however much the constitutional ques- tion in this country may have restrained him from a perfectly logical application of the American principle at home, was the man «Who represented that principle, as if the latent faith and energy of the country hastened to rally in his person, and made his knowl- edge subservient to their Want. He was accepted in Europe as the type of republican expansion; his words had Weight there because cabinets felt that the destiny of the people ran through them; they struck upon a sense unvexed by the local questions which have brought to us regret, and have made many suspect his earnest purpose. To Europe, looking through the fresh airs of the Atlantic, it seemed as though “ The West” were lettered upon his fore- head: high above all disturbing influences he bore that word-————it was read, and it Was accepted--—it became a power on earth, not carried upreared on bayonets to storm the doors of palaces, but silently impressed upon the minds of their inmates,--for when he spoke, the country was knocking at their gates. 15. Let me leave these topics, which would so "easily carry us away from the sentiments with which We started. His obsequies are not yet complete: What- ever remains to be said upon his public course is secondary to the influence which We must draw from the contemplation of his departure. Eulogy, even of that which can be praised with the whole heart, subsides before the thoughts of religion awakened by the passage of a great mind to other spheres. The words of Jesus incessantly interrupt our praise; and the moment is capable of enriching us with principles that are more durable than the triumphs of intellect, far more essential than the example of great powers greatly trained to discharge the public service. But on our way to Worship at the feet of Jesus, to which contrast the death of earth’s most majestic children must l.ead us at last, let us once more remember the soft autumn noon, when the consenting bells spread through our city the feeling of solemnity which the great burial excited. The hour was supreme over the judgment and the emotions; all shades of opinion, disarming them- selves, seemed to bring regrets and human sympathies to make the ground soft between his mansion and his tomb. And they still linger at its gate: all that is tender in the human mind, and that noble part of us which admires beauty or greatness, cannot yet bear to let the gate be shut that the epitaph i 16 may be engraved upon it. We have lost so much, the presence that has been removed was so positive and undeniable, the outlines of his composing finger were so bold and free, the Words were so weighty and contagious, the ripples which rolled from the stroke of his power fled so far and surrounded so many, the true passages of his genius are so very true, and ring so clear, and bear us away so easily in their amplitude as if a Titan spread his mantle for our silent voyage,--— that we cannot give up yet our hearty human sorrow, even though the soul knovvs of places into which this Titan did not hear us, and vvhispers to us texts of Scripture that lost him as an interpreter. For my own part, I share the great emotion at the departure of this intelligence. I can sit down and grieve with the one among you who is disposed most stoutly to vindicate his latest policy; hereat his grave is a safe place to speak concerning that, and I long for some authentic Ines- senger to bring me proofs of What I believe, but desire to see universally established, that his motives, in his final action upon the question of Slavery, shared the simplicity and clearness of his under- standing. In the midst of my keen disappointment that a great opportunity was lost, While neither men nor measures seem to promise a renewal of it, let me repeat my belief, once before uttered here, that this lavv-abiding intellect, accustomed to vindicate 17 tha.t which is established, and in its very fibre specially gifted to maintain, instead of criticising, the bond which keeps these States together, was actuated by a motive in harmony with its habits, and sustained by the spirit of the word Duty. The result was hateful to whatsoever sense of heavenly justice we contain, and time cannot remove froni the heart the sting it placed there, nor could those tolling bells reconcile me to the loss of that critical rnoment, commensurate with his powers, and with the spirit, if not with the letter, of his earlier words. Only he could have used that moment greatly, and yet at the same time safely. Always abiding within the letter of his principles, could not the great lips have grown weightier for freedom’! might not the heaviest cloud of’ that moment have broken harmlessly against his ample front? It seems to me, that even when we are all gathered in the presence of Him who will demand to know what aid we rendered to His golden rule, and will confront us with the fugitives whom we deserted or whom we protected, the sense of this earthly disappointment will oppress our hearts. Yes, even more so then, when the divine face of Jesus blesses or rebukes us according as we appealed from the statesman’s necessity to the absolute equity of God. But if it be false that a clear conviction and a M weighty sense of duty impelled him, I have not the 3 18 power to prove it so, nor the wish to see it done. It is not that death consecrates all a man’s actions, as if it were only necessary that the body should decay tha.t the spirit may be canonized; nor need We foolishly fall a prey to u11disci'in1inati11g emotions that intoxicate the ju(_lg1ne11t, and make the conscience slur its own sense of just and honest tliiiigs. Give us truth, ‘tl'1OL1gll it disturb the flatter- ing luxury of grief ; let us l11111g;e1' and thirst after rigl‘1teous11ess, even While iinagination is filled with the sound of ggreat obsequies paid to matchless gift.s. But who made me a judge or a divider over the secret motives of a buried heart, and where is my omnipotent solvent Whose touch shall yield to me the separated dross? and What measure shall be meted to my iiiotiyes if passiitxg men make a judg- ment-seat of the hillock which shall cover my mirtecl desires7.- In this country there is already too much imputation of base motives: it poisons all the air, it is so 1'ni11gled with the iiitelligeiice that the columns of the newspaper contain, that the treecloin of the press becomes to us a subject of 1'eg1‘et, and we lorig to see established the impartial censorship of mercy and charity. It is better to err upon the side of mercy, than l;ryliazzt1*di11g; a jiiélginerit with iiisuflicient mate- rial, to nourish the truculence of imputation which is as much a characteristic of this people as its Veneration for great men. In this respect, the pulpit 15;) at least must remember the heavenly reserve that left us a motto for every criticism of the human heart——-- “Judge not, that ye be not judged.” And I stand at the tomb of the departed statesman, with those Words to temper the keenness of my disappointment; they assuage the personality of feeling, and the heart can freely indulge the calm belief that here greatness co11fo1'1ned to its own conception of the mo1nent’s duty, a.nd spoke a grievous, honest Word. Do not imagine that these imperfect Words assume the pos- ture of an apology for the buried statesman, who on this point does not need sucli an m1f1'ien<;lli11ess from the loftiest pen. They are a satisfactioii to my strong conviction, and an attempt to indicate that tone of criticism which is due to the moment and the facts. Let us proceed to consider other matters. We love to irnagine a h:;1.rrnony in the features of great»- ness. VV1j1en they are removed from us we do not fo1'get y1'ig'l1teoL1s11ess or the golden rule, We are not betrayed by the sentimentality which concedes every- thing to the tolliiig bell and the general solemnity, and therefore We cannot accept a few passages of Scripture and of serious e:x:l.'1o1*tat.i()1v1 as the evidence of a living, all—co11t1°olling faith in the presence of a perfect God: the mournful and hushing hour, met With repose €L1'l(ltdlg1t1lty, cannot seduce us to fiarget that the true religion lives while the body glows with 20 passions and is encompassed with incitements, that it is manifested as a law triumphant in the simplest moralities, While the World speaks pleasantly, and the Vaulting blood mounts high, —-——~then, While a power is needed to control a power, and not when the pulse is prostrate, and the memory feehly gathers 1;.ip the 'fi:ag1ne11ts of good doctrine, as one “gathers the drapery of his couch about him ” to die i11 seem- liness. O that the sincerity of our last moments, which summons the best thoughts of the human mind to support us in our leave-tak.ing, had a re- troactive power, to secure an according quality for all the years that are then beyond retrieve! ‘Would that the tender earnestness of our periods of grief might at once and forever ransom us from the unWor- thy habits that respect not our emotions, hut rush in when they siibsicle. "We cannot tr1.ist the solemn fortunes of life to our deceitful unclerstancliiigs, though they can range the imrieil;)le WO1‘lCl and po:m;le1' the ideas of God and eternity. These ideas may swell the munificent outfit of our powers, and at our minds full tide they may loosen and float, mingling their gravity with the murmur of our speech. But when the teeming moment eblos again, our tenacious customs uncover, and We are taught to know that the true religion is something which lies continually around the roots of our nature, imparting its equable and per- 21 manent quality. It is the steady contrast of heavenly ideas with the inconstant complexion of our hours. But every mind acknowledges the elements of true greatness, and hastens with generous instinct to invest with them the eminent forms which pass out of sight, i leaving behind the impressive marlzs of service. And if there be even the semblance of a power or quality, the Willing imagination, not yet caring to clear away the tears, joyfully lends it the impress of truth, at»- tributes to it substance, mingles it with the coloring of other parts, prodigally believes the best of its hero, and indulges an emotion greater by as much as it bestowed upon its object. This is the love and the latent knowledge of true greatness Wllilcll God has given to the human soul. And this Worship of genius, or Worth, or of the harmonious greatness which ought to combine the two, serves us instead, if We have no guardian angels, and if We have them, it enlarges their number, that the level of our life may sometimes receive majestic footprints which appear to us to seek the morning, and to desire our company. We commit great errors in constructing the ideals of our heroes, yet the effort, as distinct from the effect, refines our clay, and makes us more companionable with great- ness. In this country it is noticeable that death seems it to let in upon the general imagination, light and color from the places into which it has broken a Way: the malevolence of imputation With which We watch 2:2 and hunt our public men is mostly lost in the ardent love which a new country bears at heart for the ele-- ments which future epics shall record.. We live in the heroic age of the country, and the people are creating a mythology. In its very imperfections, and in the way that the generous heart takes to magnify the object of its praise, We see the histories of ancient republics repeated; the same fibre awaits development into a maturity as sinewy and bold as they enjoyed. Nevertheless this popular tendency needs to be corrected and refined. As our great men pass away, the public intellect lavishes its incense before their shrines: the peculiar success of each, distinct from the general quality of each, becomes the theme of eulogies: the ardent people respond, with keen en- thusiasm, to the conquering periods of a great intel- ligence: they remember his victories, they remind each other of his great moments out of which he slowly built his fame. The proud regret passes from mouth to mouth, ---—-”VVhe11 shall we look upon his like again, and who can ever come with the same power to illustrate the glories of the country, or to sway, with the effluence of a great nature, the minds and the questions of the day’! The young man reads again the half-forgotten speech, and renews the mood with which its weighty periods once surrounded him. He hears again the “morning drum-beat” of that eloquence which forever fixed the great man’s name 23 in his heart as a symbol of power and majesty: the traditions of the country, the monuments of early struggles, the devout perseverance of the buried fathers, come again to sunshine in the simplicity of this master’s prose, with the accidents and grosser parts of life all sublimed away from their propor- tions; and in the pomp of his words future genera- tions are seen to advance to enjoy the blessings of religion and knowledge established in the life of a country. It seems as if the blood of this great man passed through the veins of the country in its circuit. His sentences seem commensurate with her grandeur, his fame to be only a part of her success. It is not necessary to depreciate a single service which eminent men render to their generation, in order to show the dangers of the worship which their success receives. Neither is it enough to say that a large brain and a fortunate organization claim the merit of results which we admire. F or nature never yet fashioned a man, however fine his mould or delicate the elements which went to make him, who could afford to trust her spontaneous impulse to fill the measure of his ideal. A conscious dominion of the will must wake with every morning, that the powers may preserve their integrity throughout the day: habit, with single aim and successive stroke, must toil for years in this quarry before the many» sided, flashing gem is wrought: solitary hours given 24: to labor, filled with patient investigations of vast sub- jects, and heaping the thinl:er’s study with Wealth from every zone, give a mind the simplicity and silent power which We admire. How many hundred arms, worldng now with tact, and now sniitiiig man- fully, what anxious oversight and strict obedience to lavs, have reared that mighty beam in tlie air Which swings noiselessly While it spins the product of a hundred looms. A g;1'ea.t mind claims the merit of constancy in labor. But does not ambition wait to lend its stimulus to his flaggiiig purpose? Yes, and each success piques his powers to a fresh achieve- ment ; the music or our applause swells on his mid- night air, and fills the room where he sits to conquer fame. His labor is coiigeriialz it creates the harmony of faculties that yearn to harmonize: it never shocks his taste, it is a continual flattery of his native pre- dilections. To a man so Well equipped, the call of duty is a summons to enjoyment, and he has a keen l‘u:x:ury even when he liazards friendship and position for the sake of his opinion, -—-—- the effort appeases the briglit instincts of his mind. The heart knows a greater merit than the statesman claims: “ Verily, Wlieresoever this gospel is preached, throughout the ‘WO1‘lCl, it shall be told of her.” There is fame, for there was a personal sacrifice. Wlieii the heart gives its substance to the truth, and suffers penury; when no trumpet signalizes the moment that makes taste 25 and inclination subordinate to some poor service; when the two mites fall Without clangor into the treasury, and the temple does not bless the hard-wrung bounty, --——there is merit. Whe1‘e fortunately gifted men turn aside from a career, and compel their bright energies to wear a servant’s livery, that their life may be a ran- som for many; or when women crush the fastidious reserve, and pitilessly trample leisure and the orna- :ments of taste beneath their feet, and find some poor alley leading from the beaten track into places where only faith can live, tliere, to do ~2.vlmt they do 9202? like to (Z0, and which no chivalry will flatter, —-—-- there is merit. This is a world so full of inisery that it cannot afford to dress itself up, and be the scenery for thrilling clramas of greatness, to fo1'get its rags while ‘powers put on their state, to repress its hunger while fine tastes labor to be satisfied. Its own tastes are rebulszedz it is suffe1'i11g from liumiliated inclinations. It Waits for Immanuel to put off his glory, to come and take the hand of meelazness, and to let a fold of the mantle of vvretchedness cover him while the spirit suggests the more congenial tasls: of turning the stones to bread by his fine alchemy, or of sitting on the thrones of fame. The World, suffering from violated tastes, and tied to the chariot which carries greatness to its ovations, longs to hear Words that ruin the speal{er’s fame, for their "sound gives at least the lL1X- ury of a dream to misery. V And when a man . subdues 4: 26 himself to an action Whose heavenly humility he heartily dislikes, there is your example: there is the merit which ought to make your bosom quicken in its play, and fill your soul with an eloquence harder to g;ai11 than that which huilrls the monument or conse- crates the Pil,Q;ri1n Rock. \/Vorship that merit; calm this intoxication born of t.h.o fervicl periods of great men’s speech; 1')1‘(—3S(:.?1‘V(". the coolness of your ‘jL1Clg‘1‘I1€‘11l3 to recogriise the worth of goocliiess ; do not undervalue it for its simplicity, but l")]j7l.I1?,' up your heart to meet it, bring up to-morrow closely to it, and confess that it exhausts the power of man. "While we are a young people let us set up l‘1eaVenly iornages, and expend before them our best emotions. To the generosity which salutes‘ the presence of every merit, add a cool preference for the spirit which writes the word ChwI.s'~ zfzian on aperso11’s brow. '.l‘urn away from the clarion voices, and jealously keep your heart of liearts, un- bribed, unbewilclerecl, subject to the words of Jesus. When Scripture says to you, “ that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and lie that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city,” say, “ Welcornee are those Words. I accept them as the measure of human ggreatness ——-— them will myheart extol.” W/Vhen the clespisecl and rejected Jesus comes to the great mau’s funeral, and you hear, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” “ I am the Way, and the truth, and the life,” ——-—— then turn to a.cl