Eulogy on General George Washington. A sermon, delivered February 22d, 1800, in the North Dutch Church, Albany, before the legislature of the state of New-York, at their request: / By John B. Johnson, one of the Chaplains of the House of Assembly, and one of the Ministers of the Reformed Dutch Church, in the city of Albany. Johnson, John B. (John Barent), 1769-1803. Approx. 29 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 22 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI : 2008-09. N28291 N28291 Evans 37709 APY4938 37709 99032093

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Early American Imprints, 1639-1800 ; no. 37709. (Evans-TCP ; no. N28291) Transcribed from: (Readex Archive of Americana ; Early American Imprints, series I ; image set 37709) Images scanned from Readex microprint and microform: (Early American imprints. First series ; no. 37709) Eulogy on General George Washington. A sermon, delivered February 22d, 1800, in the North Dutch Church, Albany, before the legislature of the state of New-York, at their request: / By John B. Johnson, one of the Chaplains of the House of Assembly, and one of the Ministers of the Reformed Dutch Church, in the city of Albany. Johnson, John B. (John Barent), 1769-1803. New York (State). Legislature. [2], 22 p. ; 22 cm. (8vo) Printed by L. Andrews, printer to the state., Albany [N.Y.]: : 1800. Half-title: Eulogy on Washington.

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eng Washington, George, 1732-1799 -- Death and burial. Funeral sermons -- 1800. 2006-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2006-12 Keyed and coded from Readex/Newsbank page images 2007-09 Sampled and proofread 2007-09 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

EULOGY ON WASHINGTON.

EULOGY ON General GEORGE WASHINGTON. A SERMON, DELIVERED FEBRUARY 22d, 1800, IN THE NORTH DUTCH CHURCH, ALBANY, BEFORE THE LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF NEW-YORK, AT THEIR REQUEST:

BY JOHN B. JOHNSON, One of the CHAPLAINS of the HOUSE of ASSEMBLY, And one of the MINISTERS of the REFORMED DUTCH CHURCH, in the city of ALBANY.

ALBANY: PRINTED BY L. ANDREWS, PRINTER TO THE STATE. 1800.

Office of the Clerk of the Houſe of Aſſembly, Feb. 25th, 1800. REVEREND SIR,

I have the pleaſure of encloſing to you, a concurrent reſolution of the Hon. the Senate and Aſſembly, paſſed the 24th, and 25th, inſt.

I am with ſentiments of perfect eſteem, Sir, your moſt obedt ſervt. JAMES VAN INGEN.
The Reverend JOHN B. JOHNSON. STATE OF NEW-YORK. In Aſſembly, 24th, February, 1800.

RESOLVED, that the thanks of the Legiſlature be given to the Rev. JOHN B. JOHNSON, for the diſcourſe which he delivered in honor of the memory of the late General GEORGE WASHINGTON, on the 22d inſt. at the requeſt of the two Houſes, and that he be requeſted to furniſh the Preſident of the Senate, and the Speaker of the Aſſembly with a copy of the ſame for publication.

Ordered, That Mr. LAMB and Mr. LANDON deliver a copy of the preceding reſolution to the Hon. the Senate and requeſt their concurrence.

By Order.

JAMES VAN INGEN, Clerk. In Senate, February 25th, 1800.

RESOLVED, That the Senate do concur with the Hon. the Aſſembly in their ſaid preceding reſolution.

Ordered, That Mr. SANGER and Mr. SAVAGE deliver a copy of the preceding concurrent reſolution to the Hon. the Aſſembly.

By Order.

ABRAHAM B. BANKER, Clerk. ALBANY, March 4th, 1800.
Mr. PRESIDENT and Mr. SPEAKER,

In obedience to the wiſhes of the Legiſlature, communicated to me by concurrent reſolution of both Houſes, I now do myſelf the honor to incloſe you a copy of the diſcourſe delivered before them on the 22d ult. for the purpoſe mentioned in the ſaid reſolution. Permit me to embrace this opportunity to expreſs the high ſenſe, which I entertain of this flattering teſtimonial, and to reciprocate to the legiſlature my grateful acknowledgements for the favorable expreſſion of their approbation.

I have the honor to be, Gentlemen, with profound conſideration, your moſt obedient ſervant, JOHN B. JOHNSON. The Hon. STEPHEN VAN RENSSELAER, Eſq. Preſident of the Senate. The Hon. DIRCK TEN BROECK, Eſq. Speaker of the Houſe of Aſſembly.
CHRONICLES, XXIX. 28.

HE DIED IN A GOOD OLD AGE, FULL OF DAYS, RICHES AND HONOUR.

IN the courſe of the Providential diſpenſations of Almighty God, our nation is called to contemplate an event, which arreſts the powers, and awakens the moſt pathetic ſenſibilities of the human heart. Already, for a conſiderable time, have our eyes witneſſed the tokens of general mourning, and our ears been aſſailed with the language of public grief. From every part of our common country, does the plaint of ſorrow ariſe, and every gale, as it paſſes by, is loaded with the groans and ſighs of a diſtreſſed people. Not only do our ſanctuaries of juſtice and of law, and our ſacred aſylums of religion, mourn; not only do our officers of ſtate, our diſtinguiſhed citizens, and the war-worn veteran, appear in the badges of woe; but all, from the aged who remembers the deeds of former times, to the youth who anticipates the future; all of every deſcription and every rank, feel an oppreſſive heavineſs at the heart. And, when we look around upon this great and reſpectable aſſembly, and mark the eye ſuddenly ſuffuſed with the tear of ſad recollection; when eſpecially we reflect that on this day, a whole nation, moved by the impulſe of one great ſorrow, is engaged in the obſervance of ſolemnites, of which theſe before us form a part, we are conſtrained to conclude, that ſome diſaſtrous change has occurred, that ſome dreadful loſs has been ſuſtained.

What then thou nation highly favored of heaven! what has produced this univerſal appearance of diſtreſs? From thy loftieſt mountains, and thy lovelieſt vales, why aſcends to the ſky, the plaintive concert of weeping, lamentation and woe? Has the enemy rolled like a flood upon thy peaceful ſhores, and threatened to deluge with crimes and blood, thine extenſive plains? Are thine old men devoted to death, thy daughters to ſhame, thy ſons to ſlavery? Has the arm of tyranny ſeized upon thy rights, and extinguiſhed the hallowed flame upon thine altars of freedom?— No!—But the leader of our armies—the founder of our infant republic—the guide of our councils—the patriot, who united and ſwayed all hearts—is no more! The great, the illuſtrious WASHINGTON, the pride of his country, the ornament of mankind—ſleeps in duſt!

Draw near, ye companions of his toils, ye who fought by his ſide, who were animated by his patriotiſm, and breathed his martial ſpirit; draw near, ye counſellors, who ſhone in the cabinet, and aſſiſted his efforts by your wiſdom and your virtue; draw near, ye ſons and daughters of America, whoſe ſacred birthright he defended with his ſword, and guaranteed by the bulwark of his impregnable name; draw near, with ſolemn ſtep to his tomb. Here, behold once more, your hero, friend, father; and while the copious tear bedews your cheek, and the ſtrong beat of the heart, checks your utterance, look a long—a painful—a laſt adieu. Auguſt in death, "his form has not yet loſt all her original greatneſs." Firmneſs, prudence, valor, reſignation, ſtill are ſeated upon that countenance, now fixed and pale, where they lately ſhone in the moſt vivid expreſſion; for they preſided over all the emotions and energies of his heart. But the immortal ſpirit has returned to God who gave it, and left the earthly habitation to aſſimilate with its native duſt. That eye no more beams on virtue, with the cheering ray of friendſhip; nor with its piercing glance, unnerves the ſtrength of vice, and overawes the confidence of baſe ambition. That great heart, which always beat in uniſon, with the impulſe of patriotiſm, and glowed with love for his country, is now lifeleſs as the tongue of calumny, and cold as the clay which ſurrounds it. His arm is deprived of its vigor, and his ſword, the terror of our foes, ſleeps harmleſs at his ſide. That ſingular aſſemblage of virtues and of talents, which conſtituted the unprecedented glory of his character—which was more than a hoſt for the defence of a nation's rights—more efficacious than the force of law, ſanctioned with the dread of penalty, to repreſs the licentious daring of faction—and which, under the guidance and patronage of Providence, aſſerted our liberties, and achieved our independence—is now, unexpectedly removed from the terreſtrial ſphere, which it illumined and adorned. It can now no longer be diſplayed in the wiſdom of counſel, in the ſplendor of action, in the conſummation of great deſign. Placed beyond our view, it flouriſhes and expands in thoſe regions where mortal puts on immortality, and perfection is added to perfection.

While therefore as men, and as Americans, we lament the loſs which our country and the world has ſuſtained, let us mingle the tears of joy with the tears of grief, and with the ſadneſs of ſorrow unite the ſentiment of gratitude—that humanity is ſuſceptible of ſuch excellence, and that America can boaſt ſuch a tranſcendant character, as appeared in that illuſtrious perſonage, whoſe exit we deplore, but whoſe pre-eminent greatneſs we can never ceaſe to admire. Let us not forget to praiſe that Almighty and Merciful Being, who is good, both in what he gives and in what he takes away. Let us thank him that WASHINGTON has been continued ſo long with us; and that he has died in a good old age, full of days, riches and honor.

Through numberleſs toils, and imminent dangers, he has been preſerved, by the protection of Providence, to be a moſt diſtinguiſhed inſtrument of bleſſings to his country. At the commencement of his bright career, at the origin of that grand movement, which gave birth to a nation, and laid the broad baſis of a mighty empire; what impenetrable darkneſs hovered over the proſpects of adventurous hope! What certain deſtruction ſeemed to threaten the bravery which ſhould dare to reſiſt oppreſſion! At that eventful criſis, when inſult and wrong goaded a patient and ſuffering people into deſperation, and urged them to ſeek redreſs by an appeal to arms, America called upon her WASHINGTON, and placed her intereſts under his guardianſhip. Go, unfurl my banners—fight my battles—ſeek the poſt of danger—gain laſting renown by victory—or die, covered with glory. He bowed, and received the ſhining blade from her hand, the inſignia of office from her authority, and the honor of high reſponſibility, from her unlimited confidence, in his virtue. Already does the lambent flame begin to play around his head—pledge of that ſplendor which was ſoon to irradiate and encircle his name. Already does his country feel the animation of hope, and anticipate an early and ſucceſsful iſſue of the eventful conteſt.

But before this hope could be realized, he muſt firſt aſcend thoſe "ſteep acclivities of fame," where the deathleſs laurel had never yet been plucked by mortal band. Who can juſtly eſtimate and duly praiſe that diſintereſted and ſublime magnanimity, which, had it met with final defeat, muſt have encountered death, and more hateful ignominy? For, the nobleſt motives, the pureſt principles of action, and the very heaven of virtues, when marſhalled againſt tyranny, cannot fail to be deteſtable to tyrants, and devoted to infamy by their adherents and their ſlaves. What would have been the unhappy fate of that hero, whom God and man now delight to honor, had not ſucceſs crowned his exertions, I leave you to gather from the rewards of defeated patriotiſm, in other ages and among other nations. But nothing moves his firm mind. The danger of infamy vaniſhes, and the hedious ſpectacle of ignominious death, appears inveſted with the badges of renown, when he turns his eye upon his country. The ſcene before him is truly grand; but it is the grandeur of terror. It is the ocean tempeſted into fury, and ſhrowded with the mantle of ſevenfold night! Such a ſcene, nothing but fortitude, rendered invincible by truſt in God, could have contemplated with compoſure, much leſs have launched into it, with the dependant intereſts of millions yet unborn.

A mighty kingdom, rich in reſource, proud in the proweſs of her arms, terrible to the nations of Europe, pours into the boſom of our country, her trained and intrepid bands. To oppoſe this front of menacing danger, he had an army, not deſtitute indeed of patience, of principle, and of native valor; but, collected from the plough, and the various employments of domeſtic tranquillity, where was that ſtrict dicipline, that conſummate military knowledge, that prompt and accurate obedience to orders, the effect only of experience and martial habit, which communicate to an army the identity of one ſoul, and the momentum of one great exertion? All was wanting with thoſe whom he led to the field. All muſt be ſupplied by his ever-active valor, by the wiſdom of plan, by the choice of poſition, by the all-important precautions of his unfailing prudence, by a fortitude which diſaſter could never depreſs, nor proſperity elate, by the unwearied and wonderful effects of a quick, comprehenſive, divining genius, in a word, by inſpiring his fellow ſoldiers with a confidence which no diſappointments could ſhake, and no ſuſpicions undermine.

Th ſe faculties and qualifications, ever prepared to 〈◊〉 , diſplayed themſelves during the continuance of 〈◊〉 war, with exhauſtleſs energy and undiminiſh •• 〈◊〉 . Now his vigilance ſeizes the moſt favorable moment to defeat the enemy by ſurprize; or, in avoiding battle, to conquer him by delay. Now he exerts his undaunted fortitude—deaths ſurround him,—thick darkneſs covers—deſtruction threatens his country. Now, we ſee him exerciſe his large and conſummate knowledge of the human heart, in ſilencing murmurs, in allaying fears, in rekindling hope, in communicating to a ſmall, deſtitute, defeated army, a portion of that greatneſs which upheld, and that patriotiſm which inflamed his ſoul. He was the ſpring which moved, the very ſpirit which informed and actuated that ſyſtem of meaſures, which wrought our political redemption. Had he then fallen, who but could have predicted the diſaſtrous conſequences? Then, you my fellow citizens, would have fallen— thou my country—never more to riſe! Had he then fallen, the American eagle, who hovered with ſublime wing over the ſtandard of freedom, would have dropped the immortal wreath from his beak, and the thunders from his graſp, and been no more a bird of war.

But that God, who loved our country, protected her moſt favored ſon. The winged death which proſtrates thouſands, on his right hand and on his left, harms not him; for the ANGEL of the LORD of HOSTS interpoſes his ſhield, and averts from the boſom of our chieftain, the perilous ſtroke.

He lived to ſee the proſpects of hope brighten into reality. After experiencing the various fortunes of war, be ſaw his country victorious; riſe reſplendent among the nations, and repoſe upon the boſom of peace. Through eight years of toil, embarraſſment and blood; led by the unexampled perſeverance, unbending fortitude, unerring prudence, and ardent patriotiſm of her beloved WASHINGTON, ſhe advanced with augmented greatneſs, with increaſing proweſs and ſplendor, to independence, liberty, glory. On her progreſs, the eyes of the juſt and good, of every clime, were fixed, with the moſt painful ſolicitude. On the great reſult, the nations of the earth gaze with growing wonder. Such a combination of virtues had been diſplayed; ſuch feats of valor had been achieved; ſuch exhauſtleſs hatred to tyranny, and ſuch unquenchable love of liberty had pervaded the country, that the whole ſeries of events connected with the revolution, and their ſplendid conſummation, proclaimed the diſtinguiſhed interference of Heaven.

But while many partook of the acquired renown, WASHINGTON ſhone the moſt magnificent object of a nation's love, and a world's admiration. Victory, he had won in the field; but he had gained a more noble conqueſt over the hearts of his countrymen. The flood tide of his fortune was now full, and could have borne him to empire, accompanied with acclamation and ſurrounded with fame.—But, no darkneſs gathers upon the diſk of his glory. High authority, he poſſeſſed, but he exerciſed it only for the public good. Great power, he wielded, but after the ends for which it had been conferred were accompliſhed, he depoſited it, with the badges of ſupreme command, on the altar of his country. The laurels which covered him, now ſhot forth into bloom, and he retired from office, "bearing his bluſhing honors thick upon him."— Sublime ſpectacle! more elevating to the pride of virtue, than the ſovereignty of the globe, united to the ſceptre of ages! Enthroned in the hearts of his countrymen, the gorgeous pageantry of prerogative, was unworthy the majeſty of his dominion. Eulogy, by Thomas Paine, Eſq. of Boſton. Ambition had no place in his heart, or now, it would have protruded its aſpiring front. Ambition—ſhrunk into timidity at his frown, and crouched to the earth, whence it ſprang. Ambition—was infinitely beneath the towering ſublimity of his mind; for his pure heart was fixed on heaven. Had he been ſwayed by the ſelfiſh principles, which rouſed the ſoul of a Caeſar; which animated the bravery of an Alexander; which nouriſhed the guile, and governed the conduct of a Cromwell; with equal eclat your battles might have been fought, and your victories won; but the great object of your conteſt would have been loſt; perhaps, loſt forever. But that effulgence of military character, which in ancient ſtates, has blaſted the rights of the people, whoſe renown it had brightened, was not here permitted by the hero from whom it emanated, to ſhine with ſo deſtructive a luſtre. See the Eulogy before mentioned.

No! his ſword thirſted not for blood. His arm was not lifted up for conqueſt. While he fought for the defence of all you hold moſt dear, the havoc neceſſary for attaining ſucceſs, he ſincerely deplored. Amid the din of arms, the carnage of death, and the hotteſt rage of battle, he liſtened to the ſtill ſmall voice of humanity in his breaſt. In the midſt of his moſt brilliant exploits, his eye was turned toward the ſhades, and his heart panted for the tranquillity of domeſtic ſcenes. He lived to gratify this ardent, inherent deſire; and with the unaſpiring dignity of the firſt of citizens, returned to his humble retirement, purſued by the tears, the prayers, the affections of an emancipated, a grateful people. There repoſe, thou magnanimous hero! There feaſt upon the ſweet recollection of the paſt, and the delightful hope of the future. There cultivate thoſe virtues which always governed thine own great heart; and cheriſh that divine religion, which afforded thee unfailing ſupport in the ſevereſt emergencies; and which thy conduct and thy deathleſs name, honor with perpetual eulogy. There, let the growing ſplendors of thy greatneſs, continually ſurround and guard the retreat of hallowed ſolitude.

But no! Heaven ſaw fit to counteract this predominant inclination—for the orb of his glory was not yet full. Heaven had made him for diſtinguiſhed uſefulneſs—had raiſed him up and furniſhed him with the moſt admirable qualifications, for enlarging the ſphere of human happineſs. Again he is called upon by his country; again he deems it the voice of God. His moſt favorite purſuits are inſtantly abandoned, and he appears once more, with the renewed and ſwelling-applauſe of the people whom he loved, on the ſplendid theatre of action. Again—but why need I repreſent him preſiding over thoſe deliberations of the collected wiſdom of America, which gave birth to a conſtitution, free in its principles; wiſe in its diviſion, arrangement and balance of power; admirable for the energy which it communicates to authority, and for thoſe wholeſome reſtraints, to which that authority is ſubjected: a conſtitution, not only the admiration of the preſent age, but deſtined to command the reverence of poſterity, to the lateſt generations? Why need I mention, that, after a free people had ſanctioned with their high approbation, this ſacred charter of their rights, he was choſen by unanimous ſuffrage, to fill the chair of Chief Magiſtrate; to give the firſt impulſe to a grand and comprehenſive ſyſtem; to enter upon a new and untried field of operations; to expoſe his untarniſhed laurels to the mildew of calumny; and under the burden of encreaſed years, to wield, to adjuſt, to harmonize the various intereſts of a widely-extended empire? Shall I endeavor to delineate the features of that wiſdom, which was quick to diſcern, and of that prudence, which was prompt to purſue, the only path of ſafety and honor, amid the jealouſies and contentions of rival nations, and the commotions of the moſt aſtoniſhing revolution, that ever ſhook and appalled the earth? Muſt you be informed, that like the angel, "who rides in the whirlwind, and directs the ſtorm," he reigned over the inflamed paſſions of men; and by the mighty magic of his influence, reſtrained and aſſuaged the tempeſt of faction? Standing upon the broad baſis of his own impregnable virtues, he could hear unmoved the cenſures of miſtaken zeal, and pity, while his duty obliged him to oppoſe, that blind affection and ſtupid gratitude, which would have plunged our country into the whirlpool of European politics? Need you be told, that he did not aim at popularity, riches, glory; but that the invariable object of his purſuit, was the real intereſts of his country? Yes, Americans, the peace which we now enjoy, and the tranquillity with which we are bleſſed, are, under the kind Providence of Heaven, to be aſcribed to that anticipating wiſdom, that rectitude of principle, that undeviating juſtice, which were conſpicuous in all the prominent features of his adminiſtration. And, whatever variety of ſentiment, excited by circumſtance, or produced by time, may have tranſiently prevailed in the breaſts of his fellow-citizens, and diffuſed a foreign tinge over the face of ſociety, the opinion was never uttered, nor conceived, which dared to impeach the invulnerable purity of his intentions.

Though continually "admoniſhed by the increaſing weight of years, that the calm of retirement was as neceſſary for him, as it would be welcome," yet he continues with unabated vigilance, and unwearied labor at his arduous poſt, until the improved ſtate of things made his duty compatible with his repoſe. Again we ſee him ſeek the ſolitude on which his heart was unalterably ſet. After communicating to you the maxims of ſound policy and the inſtructions of good advice, which were the reſult of long experience and mature reſearch; and after expreſſing the grateful ſenſe which he entertained of his country's love, and calling down upon her boſom the bleſſings of the ETERNAL, he diveſts himſelf of his high authority; and bowing under the vaſt burden of his honors, retires beneath the ſhades of Vernon—and ſoon finiſhing his earthly courſe, ariſes to receive his heavenly crown.

But he has departed in a good old age, full of days, riches and honor. The annals of nations are not adorned with ſo illuſtrious and finiſhed a character. We ſee and admire particular traits of excellence, in men of renown, who flouriſhed in the days of former times. But, which of them exhibits ſuch a conſiſtent and harmonious whole, as is here preſented to our contemplation? To the ſplendid round of official duties and civic virtues, which diſplayed themſelves, without effort, and without oſtentation, in the beautiful tenor of his life, he added as the crown of all, a regular and exemplary reſpect to the GOSPEL of JESUS; a uniform and ſincere piety to GOD. Religion was the ſtar of ſuperior radiance, which reflected a celeſtial and inextinguiſhable luſtre through the conſtellation of all his virtues. On every proper occaſion, he acknowledges an overruling Providence, and aſcribes to its guidance and defence, the ſucceſs of his efforts and the independence of his country.See his farewell orders to the Army. In his circular letters to the particular States, he ſpeaks in the higheſt terms of eulogy reſpecting the word of revelation, and in the higheſt expreſſions of honor, reſpecting the Divine Redeemer. He knew that his talents and exaltation came from God, and he was not aſhamed to acknowledge before the world, the author of his benefactions. Hear him again, in his parting addreſs, dictated by the warmeſt affection for his people, earneſtly inculcate, with all the fervor and authority of parental concern, the neceſſity of morality and religion to the proſperity of nations, and the neceſſity of religion to the exiſtence of morality. He knew, from long experience, that their influence upon the ſoul was a feaſt of delight. In the midſt of his moſt urgent employments, even during the tumults of war, you behold him conſciencious and regular in devoting a certain portion of every day to retirement. This uniform retreat, we have reaſon to believe was ſacred to meditation and to God. The unhallowed foot of officious preſumption, was forbidden to intrude; and the ſweet inſinuations of friendſhip were never ſuffered to ſteal upon thoſe hours, conſecrate to heaven. He ſtands a monument for the admiration of the world, for the inſtruction of future ages, for an example to heroes, legiſlators and kings.

I ſpeak not of thoſe wiſe political maxims, thoſe rules calculated to make a nation great and happy, which lie ſcattered through his writings, but are more particularly bequeathed to us in his valedictory addreſs. I need not repeat his animated exhortations to the obſervance of juſtice, to the love of liberty, to the extenſion of literature, to the exerciſe of fraternal affection, to the cultivation of the principles of our union. I need not mention his excellent advice, to guard againſt the poiſon of party aſperity; the ſtratagems of ever-working, ever lying faction; the danger from cumbrous, unneceſſary, overgrown military eſtabliſhments; the contagion of foreign influence, and the enchantment of intimate foreign connexion: for he, though dead, yet ſpeaketh, and his warning voice is heard in deep toned majeſty from the tomb.

Fellow Citizens, he loved you to the laſt. He bore your intereſts on his heart, when he encountered the hoſtility of peril. The welfare of his country, was the theme of his prayers, whenever he bowed in the preſence of his God. The recollection of her triumphs, and the proſpect of her happineſs, ſmoothed the path of his age, and gilded the gloom of his departing hour.

Illuſtrious ſhade, farewell! firſt of men, thy name is immortal. Father, Deliverer, Friend—the aged patriot mourns thy loſs! The valiant youth, erewhile animated by thy virtues, looks with ſpeechleſs agony upon thy grave, and claſps his hands in the extacy of grief. Thy bereaved country, in vain ſtretches forth her arms, to give thee a laſt embrace—Borne down by ſorrow, ſhe reſts againſt the tomb, which preſerves the aſhes of her departed chieftain. Father, Hero, Friend, once more farewell! Time, who ſhall crumble into duſt, the monumental marble, which deathleſs gratitude conſecrates to thy memory, ſhall continue to brighten the ſplendors of thy fame; and WASHINGTON SHALL LIVE FOR EVER—in the HEARTS OF HIS COUNTRYMEN, and in the BOSOM OF HIS GOD.

FINIS.