An oration, delivered at Byfield, February 22d, 1800, the day of national mourning for the death of General George Washington. / By the Rev. Elijah Parish, A.M. Parish, Elijah, 1762-1825. Approx. 40 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 30 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI : 2008-09. N28642 N28642 Evans 38184 APX4657 38184 99021436

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Early American Imprints, 1639-1800 ; no. 38184. (Evans-TCP ; no. N28642) Transcribed from: (Readex Archive of Americana ; Early American Imprints, series I ; image set 38184) Images scanned from Readex microprint and microform: (Early American imprints. First series ; no. 38184) An oration, delivered at Byfield, February 22d, 1800, the day of national mourning for the death of General George Washington. / By the Rev. Elijah Parish, A.M. Parish, Elijah, 1762-1825. 32 p. ; 21 cm. From the press of Angier March. Sold at his bookstore, north side of Market-Square, Newburyport., [Newburyport, Mass.] : [1800] Half-title: Mr. Parish's oration on General Washington. With a poem, p. 29-32.

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eng Washington, George, 1732-1799 -- Death and burial. Washington, George, 1732-1799 -- Poetry. Funeral sermons -- 1800. Poems -- 1800. 2006-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2007-01 Keyed and coded from Readex/Newsbank page images 2007-10 Sampled and proofread 2007-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

AN ORATION, DELIVERED AT BYFIELD, FEBRUARY 22d, 1800, THE DAY OF NATIONAL MOURNING FOR THE DEATH OF General George Washington.

BY THE REV. ELIJAH PARISH, A. M.

FROM THE PRESS OF ANGIER MARCH. SOLD AT HIS BOOKSTORE, NORTH SIDE OF MARKET-SQUARE, NEWBURYPORT.

AN ORATION.

ALTHOUGH the occaſion of our aſſembling this day is uncommon, it is not the leſs important.

As families and villages publicly mourn the loſs of individual members; ſo the nation mourns the fall of her Friend, her Hero, her Founder. He being the Benefactor and Father of all, which town or hamlet, from Maine to Georgia, would be willingly excluded from this general Lamentation?

Though the annals of OUR country afford no example of the kind; though we are in danger of adopting tokens of extreme ſorrow; yet this is not the firſt inſtance of national mourning. For forty days, Jacob, the Hebrew patriarch was mourned in the nation where he died.

Pelopidas,Plutarch. the Theban, ſlain in a foreign war, when borne to his native State, was met on the way, as he paſt through the cities, by magiſtrates, by young men, by children, by the miniſters of religion with all the pomp, which could give him honor, or expreſs their grief. The Theſſalians, in whoſe cauſe he had fallen, importuned the privilege of directing his funeral ſolemnities.

But the firſt ORATION, pronounced in honor of the dead, mentioned in hiſtory, was delivered by Poplicola at the death of Brutus; that Brutus, ſo renowned for his diſintereſted zeal in giving ſentence of death againſt his own ſons guilty of treaſon. For him the Roman women mourned a whole year; two months longer than for their neareſt relations.

The Commonwealth interred Poplicola at the public expence, and to expreſs their affectionate veneration for the man, the women by common conſent lamented his death a year, "as if he had been a ſon, a brother, or father."

Bingham's Antiquities of the Chriſtian Church. The firſt Chriſtians adopted the cuſtom of funeral eulogies; they were pronounced at the grave of the ſaint; to render the ſcene more ſolemn, the emblems of their crucified Savior were adminiſtered. But neither Chriſtians for the loſs of a brother, nor Greeks, nor Romans, for the fall of their Conſuls and Generals, had ſuch cauſe for mourning as the States of America, at the preſent time.

Probably NO MAN ever united ſo many great talents, and reigned ſo entirely in the hearts of millions, as he whoſe departure the nation mourns. The Poets and Orators of the world will blazon his virtues, and the laſt age of time admire the wonderous man.

Were the Speaker to take a part in the eulogies of the day his words might be loſt as a drop of dew on the boſom of ocean: ſtill it may be DUTY to remark, that we are unſpeakably indebted to God for raiſing up ſuch a character, at ſuch a time; a character whoſe moderation, whoſe gentleneſs, whoſe purity was ſo adapted to the moral habits, and religious opinions of his country. While clad in panoply dreadful; terrible to his enemies, as the fiery bolt of heaven; he was gentle as the Shepherd of a flock, compaſſionate as the Parent of a family. Mercy ſoftened his juſtice; humanity tempered his vengeance, and the crimſon of his ſword, was the blood of neceſſity.

The idea of conqueſt and triumph, of invaſion and ſlaughter, never darted its contagion amid the reflections of his mind. Had this humane ſpirit been wanting; had he been merely the rough ſoldier, or daring Commander, Americans would have been diſguſted; their confidence loſt; the proſpects of the revolution wrapt in darkneſs. He never wounded the breaſt of ſenſibility, never extorted a tear from morality, nor a ſigh from religion: He never gave his country "pain, but when he died."

His INVENTIVE genius was neceſſary. What in other circumſtances might have been convenient was here eſſential. A vaſt extent of defenceleſs territory, towns and cities, raiſed the ſupplicating eye, and implored protection from him. A race of harmleſs farmers, from their birth living in habits of equality, independent lords of the ſoil, revolting at the thought of military ſubordination, were the unpromiſing materials to form a defence againſt the diſciplined valor of European Veterans. Much of his artillery ſlumbered in the hills of ore; much of his ammunition ſlept in the duſt, or bade him defiance in the magazines of his foe.

All the ſtratagems of creative genius encouraged his friends, awed the enemy, and ſaved the cauſe Under his eye the huſbandman ſoon became the Champion of Freedom, the field of harveſts the citadel of war, on the hill of flocks was the blaze of battle, and the flag of INDEPENDENCE waved over the deep. The metamorphoſes of poetic fiction ſeemed viſible in real life. His meaſures often diſappointed the calculations of prudence, overleaped the rules of ſyſtem, while the cloud of adverſity guided his banner to the hill of victory. When he ſeemed to reſt quietly in his camp, like the ſlumbering volcano, he has unexpectedly burſt on his foe in a deluge of fire.

His FORTITUDE in ſeaſons, which tried the moſt intrepid minds, was a golden pillar in the temple of his merit. When his wants were multiplied; when revolt raiſed her ſtandard; when neceſſity beſieged his camp; when reſources failed; when the ſeas ſaid, "They are not in us," and the fields, "They are not in us," like the rock of the billows, or the hill of ſtorms, he bore all with invincible fortitude.

Undiſmayed he left the iſles of Newyork; undiſmayed he abandoned the fortreſſes of the Hudſon, while the crimſon of their ſteps betrayed the courſe of his deſponding troops. The American conteſt, the Liberties of mankind, appeared to tremble in the ſcale of events; the voice of popular zeal had ſunk almoſt to the whiſper of ſubmiſſion. The Commander in Chief remains unmoved. Though he knew when to retire; yet like the blaſt of the tempeſt, it was to return with increaſing fury.

The aſtoniſhed Delaware bore him back to victory; the triumph at Trenton rouſed the country to a ſenſe of their own force; gave the mortal ſtab to oppreſſion, broke the ſceptre of deſpotiſm. Like the ſun obſcured by clouds, but not extinguiſhed, he continued the ſame in every exigence.

His unaffected MODESTY after all the ſervices he had done, all the diſtreſſes he had borne, all the honor he had won, was a diadem of glory, was a prodigy of human virtue. Aſcribing to the aid of other Agents, or immediately referring to the PROVIDENCE OF GOD the great events in which he was the principal Actor, What did he ever arrogate to himſelf? His replies accepting the great appointments of his country; his addreſſes reſigning thoſe appointments, are the uniform language of his life; they ſhow the great man riſing above himſelf.

Travellers Briſſot's travels in the United States. have been ſurpriſed at the modeſt manner in which he deſcribed thoſe events of the revolution, which covered him with glory, and made a bloody page in the hiſtory of war. The manner was the ſame, as if he had not been preſent, or only an obſerving ſpectator.

But the unrivalled ſplendor of his character beamed from his DISINTERESTED ſpirit.

Without that ambition for fame or wealth, which frequently fires the heart, and directs the actions of men, he was reclining under the groves of Vernon, or ploughing his own field, when the voice of millions called him to lead their armies. His favorite indulgences allured him to refuſe; his benevolence required him to comply; he did not heſitate; he became our Captain.

How conſtantly was the ſame ſelf denial neceſſary during the uncertain, the diſmal conteſt. A narration of theſe trials would be the hiſtory of the revolution.

When he had given ſovereign INDEPENDENCE to his country; when he had raiſed her to empire and glory; when he had repelled the foe, and huſhed the thunders of invaſion; when he had fixed the confidence of his country, and the admiration of the world, he then reſigned his ſword; that ſword, which courted his hand; with tears he bade adieu to that army, who would have given him their blood; who would have made him perpetual Dictator: He became a private citizen with that people, who could not have refuſed him a THRONE.

Here gaze, ye Caeſars, ye Cromwells, ye Buonapartes, of the world, and ſhrink into your merited non-exiſtence! But here was no ſtruggle of paſſions, no trial for the pure benevolence of WASHINGTON. The bleſſings of his country attend him, as he retires to the banks of Potowmac; their prayers aſcend for his peace and final happineſs.

But a more painful queſtion demands his deciſion. Can he, will he again ſacrifice his wiſhes? Look, ye children of men, look ye angels of light, ſee a ſpirit of benevolence like thine own. He feared not the loſs of thoſe honors, which he never ſought; he grudged not any ſervice for that people, who were dearer to him than the blood which rolled through his heart; but fatigued with the toils of the crimſon field; tired of public life, he ſighed for repoſe. Yet he conſents to preſide over the nation, which his ſword had eſtabliſhed.

Here the frozen calculations of worldly wiſdom, the mechanical balancing of arguments yield to the fervent impulſe of diſintereſted zeal for the public good. Juſtly to eſtimate his virtues, or to recommend them to others, requires a ſpirit pure and benevolent like his own. The beams of morn extinguiſh the ſtars; the meridian blaze dazzles the eye; we need not, therefore, mention his reſigning the firſt office of his country, or his acceptance of a ſubordinate ſtation. So great were his other ſacrifices that we forget to tell, that the bread which he eat, and the happineſs of doing good, were all his reward for years and years of toil in the beſt part of his life.

But to omit his VALOR would be to rob the Hero. How many hills and plains have ſhuddered to ſee his cool, undaunted valor! His courage was not the rage of Brutus,Plutarch. hurrying to death in ſingle combat; it was not the fury of Mahomet,Echard. riding into the ſea to ſupport his diſtant fleet; it was not the madneſs of Pelopidas, ruſhing from life before his army; but that diſpaſſionate preſence of mind, which enſures victory, or prevents the common diſaſters of defeat. He never wantonly expoſed a hair of his head; he never turned his boſom from the hotteſt battle when duty called.

His ardor in the field was not a thirſt for fame; but the indignant ſpirit of ſelf defence; it was not a frenzy of raving paſſion; but the calm dictates of conſcience: it was not delight in ſlaughter; but the zeal of ſaving his country.

His enemies will relate the deeds of his bravery to other times. The batteries of York-Town, the plains of Monmouth, numerous hills of blood, eulogize the ſword of his battles. In ſtrains enchanting the Monongahela ſtrikes the ſong, the Hudſon, the Delaware, the Schuylkill, and Brandywine, ſwell the chorus of his valor.

His SUCCESS completes the glory of his name. Here he roſe on the breath of heaven above the ſphere of his own great actions. No virtue is ſo ſpotleſs, no courage ſo undaunted, no diſcretion ſo watchful, as to enſure ſuch a ſeries of ſucceſs, ſuch a tide of glory. The uniform confidence of his country was a phenomenon great, like the virtues of his mind, the remarkable deeds of his life, the almoſt miraculous interpoſitions of Providence in his behalf. Republics are not in the habit of ſuch uniformity or gratitude. It will probably ſtand as a political wonder in the hiſtory of man, during the preſent ſtate of ſociety, that he ſo long enjoyed the unwavering confidence of theſe States. That they ſhould have ſagacity to diſcover him among millions, and wiſdom to give him their conſtant ſupport merits them vaſt applauſe. He was as evidently a favorite of Providence, as of his country: He as conſpicuouſly enjoyed the protection of his God, as the cordial veneration of his fellowcitizens. The time of his birth, the peculiar ſtate of his country, many things in which He had no influence, as well as the energetic powers, the unſullied virtues of his own mind, all conſpired to render him what he was, the Founder of our Republic, the pride of his country, the admiration of mankind.

Nor ought it to be forgotten that he enjoyed powerful aid. The ſwords of Green and Putnam

General PUTNAM commanded in the celebrated action of Bunker or Breed's hill. It is a ſingular circumſtance that this ſhould not be more generally known.—Putnam was the commanding officer of the party, who went upon the hill the evening before the action: he commanded in the action: he harangued his men as the Britiſh firſt advanced, charged them to reſerve their fire, till they were near, 'till they could ſee the white of their eyes,' were his words.— At the ſecond aſſault he commended their former calmneſs, aſſured them "they would now do much better," and directed them "to aim at the officers." They obeyed. The fire was tremendous. 'My God,' ſaid Putnam, in telling the ſtory, 'I never ſaw ſuch a carnage of the human race.'

Theſe things he related to the Reverend Mr. Whitney, his Miniſter, by whoſe permiſſion they are now publiſhed.—In a note of his ſermon occaſioned by the death of the General, he ſays, "The detachment at firſt was put under the command of General Putnam, with it he took poſſeſſion of the hill, and ordered the battle from beginning to the end. General Warren arrived alone on the hill and as a Volunteer joined the Americans juſt as the action commenced.—Theſe facts General Putnam himſelf gave me ſoon after the battle and repeated them after his life was printed. The General, who encouraged and animated his ſoldiers, by his words and example, to prodigies of bravery, is highly to be honored, and the praiſe not given to another, however meritorious in other reſpects. Other evidence, to confirm what I have here ſaid, I am able to produce, if any ſhould call for it."

Mr. Whitney has a letter written him by an officer, who was in the action, aſſerting that Putnam was Commander. While writing this note an officer of rank, who was wounded in the battle, who ſaw Warren fall, tells me I may "be aſſured, General Putnam was the officer who led the party to the hill, who marked the ground to be fortified, and commanded in the action."

ſpread terror through hoſtile legions: The fame of ADAMS and Jay will flouriſh when the foundations of the world ſhall crumble to duſt.

Yet never was the addreſs of the Theban to Diagoras, when he was crowned in the olympic games more applicable, than to our Timoleon, "Die, die, thou canſt not be a God."

Others have equalled him in ſome particulars; but in whom have ſo many ſocial, political and military talents united? Romulus was the founder of a State; but rapine and blood ſtained his ſoul. Mahomet riſes like a mountain of the deſert; but blackeſt crimes blaſt his name. Where ſhall we find a character like the illuſtrious FARMER of Mount Vernon?

Equal in ſtratagem to Hannibal, as modeſt as Cincinnatus, as diſintereſted as Regulus, as daring as Leonidas, as cautious as Fabius, as valiant as Caeſar, as ſucceſsful—why ſhould I proceed? He diſplayed a conſtellation of virtues.

Like Moſes on Sinai's fiery ſummit, he ſtood alone. His life was a great volume, every page and ſentence gives inſtruction. In peace and war, like the all-pervading power of attraction, he combined, he directed, and fixed his country on the baſis of ſafety and glory.

Columbus diſcovered a new world, a chaotic maſs, dark were the dwellings of the foreſt. Like the eldeſt morn of time, feeble was the beam of light, till Waſhington kindled her ſun, balanced her ſtars, eſtabliſhed her hills, raiſed her barriers, diffuſed order, and beauty. But he is gone. His Maſter has recalled him from his labor. The breach is great like the ſea; Who can heal it?

The pencil of deſcription might ſhow the nation mourning before God; the mount on which he lived the hill of darkneſs, the fields ſad, the groves weeping, the manſion deſolate, the bowers trembling, awful ſilence round his tomb, while angels guard the ſacred duſt. But we forbear— The mighty man is fallen; his ſword ſleeps in his hall. The almighty GOVERNOR often takes his moſt uſeful Agents from this world: While darkneſs pavilions his throne are there not REASONS VISIBLE for ſuch events? May not ſuch Actors be taken away to be raiſed to a more exalted ſtate?

Man is evidently formed for endleſs improvements in knowledge, uſefulneſs, and enjoyment. In this life they are progreſſive and ſometimes great. In the world of purity where paſſions, and prejudices, wants and wos, do not obſtruct or embarraſs, more rapidly muſt the ſoul riſe in excellence. The heart of goodneſs, advancing in virtue, prepares for higher ſpheres; he is 'worthy' a more exalted ſtate; he is mature for heaven. In this criſis the pale Meſſenger conveys the ſoul to manſions of reſt. There the good ſpirit of feebleſt powers will become equal in wiſdom to what Prophets and Patriarchs now are, who have been for thouſands of years receiving light at the fountain of excellence; he will paſs on, and arrive at the preſent glory of angels: He will paſs on and riſe to the preſent glory of the high archangel He will paſs on and riſe, as far above the preſent glory of the archangel, as that ſurpaſſes a ſpark of love in the humble ſoul. Then his light is only dawning, an ETERNITY to aſcend in bliſs and glory is ſtill before him. But for this he muſt drop his clay: To riſe, to reign, to live, he muſt ſleep in the narrow houſe, return to the duſt of the ground. It is the ſtormy hour in the voyage of our exiſtence: It is the moment of agonizing conteſt, as the victory is won, as the crown is received. But what coward would fly when the triumph is certain; when a kingdom is the reward, when the livery of death is exchanged for robes of immortality? We die, we ſoar, the powers expand, the worm of duſt unites with elder ſons of light; their work, their joys the ſame. "Were death denied even fools would wiſh to die." Is it not kind in God to remove his moſt uſeful agents from the evils of time to more exalted ſcenes in glory?

When God determines to PUNISH, he may wiſely remove uſeful perſons, who were barriers againſt his judgments. Lot muſt be haſtened from the devoted city; omnipotent anger "cannot do any thing," cannot kindle a ſpark till he is gone. The Judgments of God flow from the common courſe of events; no violence deranges the natural order of things; effects ſpontaneouſly flow from their cauſes: Therefore when the hour of divine Judgments arrives, thoſe perſons muſt be removed whoſe influence would prevent the evils deſigned. Being the confidence of his country, the Champion of Gath muſt bow to the angel of death, the ſword of the Shepherd muſt drink his blood, that terrors might ſeize the camp, the falling troops burden the fields as they fled.

As a haughty ſpirit precedes a fall; as pride ſwells the heart deſtined to ruin; as the means of ſafety are removed before deſtruction comes; ſo thoſe perſons whoſe proweſs, whoſe wiſdom, or piety, defend their connexions, will be removed before the divine judgments arreſt their victims. The Righteous are taken not only from the evil; but that it may come; that it may flow uncontroled. This is natural; it is agreeable to common ſenſe; therefore the Hero of Troy crimſons the duſt before the city falls. When puniſhment haſtens, uſeful perſons are removed from their ſtations.

To ſhow he needs not the nobleſt inſtruments; to ſhow his INDEPENDENCE, GOD removes them from the world. Nothing can impoveriſh him, who creates: A Tyrant he raiſes up in the land of Ham to ſhow his mighty power: That Tyrant he deſtroys to ſhow he was not neceſſary. Kings and Conquerors are as eaſily formed, as drops of dew, or floating atoms. While the ſmalleſt evils may ruin the great men of this world, the greateſt, actually promote the deſigns of Providence. On mount Gilboa the royal Warriors fall, "who were the beauty of Iſrael, who were ſwifter than eagles, who were ſtronger than lions; on whoſe face was ſeen the rage of battles, the ſtep of death was behind their ſwords, the blood of armies on their ſpears."

Cities have aſcended in burning vapor, as leaves of the foreſt; a world has been drowned, as a ſhip in the ſtorm. The majeſty of his kingdom, the riches of his empire, the awful magnificence of his government, confounds our calculations, when dreadful ſcenes ſtrike the view, when God hides in darkneſs the firſt Agents of the world. This INDEPENDENCE of means commands our admiration.

God, alſo calls away the principal Actors from the world to make room for the forming of OTHERS. Such is the preſent ſtate of things, that but few can be eminently great at the ſame time. If all were Generals, who would compoſe the phalanx? If all were rulers, who would be the ſubjects? Had Nimrod and the officers of his government continued till this time, how may great men muſt have remained in their original obſcurity.

Seldom does the exigence of the time fail of producing the characters required. The moment he was needed, the Hero of Columbia roſe. Had he been immortal, no other like him would have appeared, no other would have been neceſſary. By the removal of ſuch there may be a ſucceſſion of great men, as long continued as the duration of the world, more numerous than the generations of time: Therefore there may be a period when every hill ſhall have been a VERNON, and every family have furniſhed a WASHINGTON.

Though the beloved man is fallen, there is no ſhadow of doubt, but the hour which demands, will alſo exhibit another formed for the occaſion. It is the folly of error for us to tremble, or for our enemies to exult, as if he, who raiſed up one, cannot ſend a hoſt of Waſhingtons. An ADAMS lives, and when God deſigns to bleſs a people, there will always be found the neceſſary Agents; a Moſes where the chains of a Deſpot are to be broken; a Cyrus where a captive nation find deliverance; a Waſhington where the banner of independence is unfurled, or a new Empire eſtabliſhed. As the mortality of great men multiplies great men, it renders the world a nurſery of Genius, a ſchool of virtue and glory. Eaſy it is, therefore to juſtify Providence in calling uſeful Agents from earthly ſcenes.

We may here remark that the Almighty Governor removes men from life, when the WORK is ACCOMPLISHED for which they were DESIGNED. The God of knowledge perfectly knows what is the work of every perſon, as he enters on the ſtage of life. When his work is done, the agent lives to no purpoſe, therefore reaſon approves, righteouſneſs demands his removal. Every actor good and bad retires when his part in the drama is finiſhed. God perfectly knew the work of Egypt's king; therefore when he diſplayed his laſt judgment, when his work was done, he was whelmed in the deep, he left the world.

Redemption was the work of Jeſus Chriſt; therefore when that work was 'finiſhed,' he was the priſoner of Death: Why ſhould not the agent be removed when his taſk is accompliſhed?

To teach men their DEPENDENCE upon God for great characters, He often removes them in the midſt of their uſefulneſs. The view of a long, a conſtant ſeries of events, without derangement or change, is apt to efface our convictions of the divine agency, which gives exiſtence and energy to all. Men long accuſtomed to enjoy law and protection from the wiſe and valiant, too frequently forget the hand, who raiſed them up; they regard the ſervants of God, as the authors of the bleſſings, while they are only the means of producing them. That God may not be robbed of his glory, he removes thoſe uſeful perſons, who prevented us from ſeeing his goodneſs. Was not the Prophet's ſchool deeply awed with a preſent God, and a ſenſe of their own dependence when they ſaw the man of God aſcending in a chariot of fire?

Finally, God removes great agents to teach great men, THEY MUST DIE. All men, but eſpecially thoſe proſperous, are too little ſolicitous reſpecting their diſſolution, and the unknown events beyond the grave. The cares of buſineſs, the pride of wealth, the flatteries of greatneſs, the enchantments of pleaſure, ſeize their hearts, and direct their actions.

Were none to die, but thoſe worn out with years, none but thoſe no longer uſeful; were none but the dregs of mankind ſwept into the grave, Who, among the active and great, would think of death, or prepare for heaven? But when the mighty man falls, his companions in honor ſee, that while they are reſpected as Gods, they muſt die like men. They ſee that no degree of importance repels the ſhaft of death; the tyrant delights to ſpread his terrors, to make the great tremble, the world mourn.

In a critical day, when the Hebrew camp ſeemed to need his wiſdom, with Canaan's hills in view, their Leader, their Legiſlator, their Waſhington expires; he paſſes from the top of Nebo to his ſeat in glory. While the wonders of his benevolence were enlightening the world; while the ſpirits of the good were raviſhed by his divine eloquence, the Prophet of Nazareth was nailed to the tree. While a great part of mankind are in arms, and his country trembles, as a barque in the ſtorm, the Defender of America deſcends into his tomb. From his importance to ſociety, Who can preſume on life?

Thus reaſons viſible plead for the afflictive wonders of divine ſovereignty, which ſummon from earth the great and good. Moſt important conſiderations demand ſuch diſpenſations. Pleaſant is the office to ſpeak for God, to juſtify his conduct towards the great, the good, the wiſe men of the earth: Yet what is more dreadful in the divine government, than the mortality of ſuch perſons? Therefore though we "know not now," we may 'hereafter' know why other remarkable circumſtances exiſt; why wickedneſs, famine, and peſtilence, depopulate the world; why moral darkneſs reigns; why the beams of rational religion illume ſo ſmall a part of mankind; why we inherit danger and diſtreſs; why infants expire, and guilt wakens a fire that never dies.

As God has reaſons wiſe for the terrible acts of his authority, SUBMISSION becomes the heart of man. Still the event we contemplate is ſerious; a great man, whom God delighted to honor, is fallen. He loved our nation, his name was a formidable hoſt. The ſtar is ſet, which guided us through a dark night of imminent dangers; gone is the cloud, which gave terror to our foes, light and ſafety to his country. He was happy, not in his own ſplendor, but in our proſperity; he lived not for himſelf, but for us. How many years of diſtreſſing days, and diſmal nights in the blaze of ſummer, and the froſt of winter, did he hazard his life in the bloody field! He made every ſacrifice, welcomed every burden, dared every danger, which the public good required. When did he refuſe to die for his country? From what ſcene of carnage did he ever fly? What was his REWARD for all his ſervices? Like the mountains of the new world, he roſe with unrivalled ſublimity.

What are the kings and conquerors of the old world? Do not moſt of them reſemble him, as the painted canvaſs or frozen marble does the Hero of valor; or the lightning's flaſh, the cheering beams of the morning ſun? They are Generals and Kings becauſe they happened to be twigs of ſuch a branch, or to vegetate in ſuch a ſpot.Edward firſt, ſent his Queen into Wales to be delivered, that the Welch having a prince born in their own realm might ſubmit to his government. Hence the title of Prince of Wales. He was a Commander, becauſe he was firſt in the art of war. He ruled, becauſe he had no competitor. Can a man, who loves his country, who loves himſelf, be unaffected by ſuch a Death? Have we not ſome reaſon to fear the ſword is broken, which prevented public calamity; that the FATHER of his people is taken from evils coming?

Mourn for him then, my country, mourn; let not this day be a cold formality. Weep for him, ye who cultivate the ſoil; he repelled the hoſts of invaſion from your ſhore. He preſerved your farms from tribute, yourſelves from the chains of tyranny. Lament for him, ye friends of religion; be robed in mourning, ye altars of GOD, he ſaved you from perſecution and ſacrilege.

Atheiſm illuminized had formed her mines, ſtored her magazines, placed her ambuſh, to demoliſh the ſtrong holds of Zion. She had planted her banners, raiſed her bulwarks, levelled her artillery, againſt the inſtitutions of civil ſociety. Theſe were viewed as the outworks of chriſtianity. An aſſault had been made, the blaſt of victory had ſtartled the world. Raptured with their ſucceſs in the firſt ſcene of the tragedy in a fair part of Europe, the Leaders had determined to hurl their thunders, and diſgorge their volcanos upon the whole empire of JESUS. In their imaginations the work was done; nothing remained of the city of God; but trembling walls, ſmouldering temples, and mangled Prieſts. To accompliſh this buſineſs in America, an Emiſſary Genet. from that Land which is a CURSE to all nations, aided by democratic Societies, ſhook our government to its center. For a time he threatened to be great, like the ENVOY of HELL overturning the conſtitution of Paradiſe. Our beloved Chief put forth his hand, caught the falling ark, placed it more ſafely on the baſis of public opinion. He looked, the federal banner roſe, faction expired, and we were happy.

This for a time has ſaved your Churches from profanation, your Miniſters from ſlaughter, your ſabbaths and ſacraments from deſtruction, yourſelves from a ſea of blood. Therefore, while other nations mourn the death of their Tyrants, let us weep the loſs of our DELIVERER; while they diſplay the pomp of pretended ſorrow for the Robbers and Murderers of the age, let us with bleeding hearts cry, "My FATHER, my FATHER, the chariots of Iſrael and the horſemen thereof."

THIS ſerious air, this ſilent gloom around, The mourning tokens, and the ſigh profound, Proclaim the ruin Terror's king has made— In Death's cold vault is Vernon's Hero laid. To ſpread the honors of our mortal race, In worlds, which roll through diſtant fields of ſpace, To raiſe the MAN above the tides of woe, To ſhow creation whence their bleſſings flow, To ſnatch from hoſtile ſcenes where ſorrow lowers, To find employment for his matchleſs powers, Where angels labor, embryo ſyſtems riſe, And God himſelf illumes celeſtial ſkies. Th' Almighty ſpoke—The king of Terrors heard, And quick before the ſovereign God appeared. To him attending was this mandate given, And thus addreſſed the order ſealed in heaven. "Deſcend unſeen to Vernon's towering height, "And veil Columbia in the ſhades of night, "Unſeen deſcend, if thy deſign be known, "Ten thouſand, thouſand prayers aſſault my throne, "Unnumbered ſaints will raiſe united cries, "By Faith 'command' the Ruler of the ſkies, "Arreſt my hand, revoke my fixed decree, "Thine arrow ſhiver, ſet thy priſoner free." Trembling the phantom heard, and hied away, Bid ſtormy clouds obſcure fair Vernon's day, Bid deadly vapors riſe from marſhy ground, With poiſon armed the breathing gales around; Diſeaſe alarming ſeized the mighty man, The febrile flame through every member ran, Contagion fatal burned along each vein— Serene he bore the agonizing pain; With heart humane forbid the ſlaves to go, They dare not fly to tell their maſter's wo. The Fiend prepared his moſt invenomed dart, The wound was mortal—tranſient was the ſmart. At his own deed appalled the Monſter fled, 'The world in tears' lament their favorite dead. A band celeſtial ſoothed the bed of grief, With rapturous viſions gave his mind relief, Unveiled the ſplendors round the throne of God, Illumed the dreary path his Savior trod, With winning ſmiles received the godlike man, To realms of light their brilliant courſe began. See hoſts deſcending meet them on the way, To ſwell the honors of his brighteſt day, Heroes and Stateſmen throng to ſee him come, To wear the diadem his virtue won. Weep, weep Thou fond COMPANION of his cares, No more for him you preſs your warmeſt prayers, To God ſubmit, nor let one ſigh complain, He ſorrow feels, to ſee his children's pain, He frowns in tender love to make them wiſe, Affliction's hour bids faireſt virtues riſe. Ye Veterans bold, ye men of deathleſs names, On riſing hills empaled in burſting flames, Or wide extended o'er the tented field, Or in the wild the ſword of battle wield, Mourn, mourn—the valorous man, who led your hoſt, Your Guide to triumph and your country's boaſt, No longer kens the hoſtile ſtorms from far, No longer wheels Columbia's flaming car, Nor like the ſun amid the ſtarry train, Gives dazzling ſplendor to th' embattled plain. Behold great ADAMS ſeeking ſad relief, Like Iſrael's king indulging cheerleſs grief: He ſcorns the marble heart, the flinty eye, His ſorrows flow to ſee a Brother die. Eliſha erſt the prophet's mantle caught, With power of miracles divinely fraught; So he the courſe purſues, the Hero trod, Repelling danger as a guardian god, While tempeſts ſhake the world, the heavens deform, HE ſafely guides COLUMBIA thro the ſtorm. He calls our Tribes to form the mourning train, And leads the throng, who crowd the hallowed FANE. The Bells from Maine to Georgia's fertile clime, The dirges ſad, which aid the ſolemn chime, The cannon's roar, the nation proſtrate, tell, The country trembled when the WARRIOR fell. The general mourning ſpeaks the public wo, In ſwelling ſtreams the tears of millions flow, While youth and beauty ſwell the plaintive ſong, Seraphic Choirs the diſmal ſtrains prolong. The fields his valor ſaved are robed in grief, With tears the flowers bedew each trembling leaf, Along her ſhores Monongahela ſighs, Her waters ſaw his dawning glory riſe; Ye iſles of York with waves of ſorrow flow, Monmouth and Trenton ſtrike the chords of wo; Ye verdant banks of broad Potowmac's tide, In ſable vapor cloud your lightning pride, Your waving ſurges lull in fixed gloom, In ſilence paſs the HERO's AWFUL TOMB. The lonely Dome of Vernon aſks a tear, No more her walls the voice of pleaſure hear; Her columns languiſh bound in ſad array, Her faireſt ſuns illume a mournful day. Ye ſhady Arbors formed for cheerful talk, Repeat the ſighs, which break from every walk, Ye murmuring brooks, who ſeek the dales below, With tears enlarge, and drown the fields in wo, Ye muſing foreſts, groves of aged trees, Your anguiſh tell in every ſighing breeze. When lofty hills ſhall ſparkling volumes raiſe, With all his ſtreams the Sire of rivers blaze, The Andes vaniſh, as a cloud of duſt, And ſtars and ſuns their glorious orbits burſt, The fame of Vernon's honored CHIEF ſhall riſe, Survive the wreck of worlds, and triumph in the ſkies. FINIS.