tury, the traditions concerning wh

is described as a solitary, graves of the Covenanter pation consisted in clea newing with his chise' emblems of death wi PLATO, an illustrio of the soul and before Christ rates. His

5 AD' DI SON was bor

T

www.long since

by deeds of valor on

distinction in the fo

we can not traverse a land where deep-rooted desire do not meet us

lofty column, now broken and

the marble, from which the name has been obtime; the splendid mausoleum, standing over h the name of its builder is no longer known · ne shows how deeply this desire once fixed itself in some 6. Every work of art, every temple and statue, every

forgotten; and the lofty pyramid

human heart.

book on

which we

each

carelessly cast the eye as we pass along

the alcoves of a great library, is probably a monument of this desire to be remembered when life is

once

gone. Every rose honeysuckle that we plant over the grave of a friend, is but a response to the desire not to be forgotten, which e warmed the cold heart beneath. And who would be willing to be forgotten? Who could endure the thought, that, when he is committed to the earth, no tear would ever fall on his grave; no thought of a friend ever be directed and that the traveler would never be told who is the sleeper there?

ory

to his tomb

;

7. To this universal desire in the bosom of man to be remembered when he is dead, the living world is not reluctant to respond; for everywhere it manifests such tokens of respect as it deems best suited to perpetuate the memof the departed. Affection, therefore, goes forth and plants the rose on the grave; rears the marble, molded into breathing forms, over the dust; like Old Mortality, cuts the letters deeper when the storms of time efface them; and hands down in verse and song the names of those who have deserved well of mankind.

"Patriots have toiled, and in their country's cause
Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve,
Receive proud recompense. We give in charge
Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse,
Proud of the treasure, marches with it down
To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn,
Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass,
To guard them, and to immortalize her trust.
But fairer wreaths are due, though never paid,
To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth,
Have fallen in her defense:"

9. Why is this passion implanted in the human bosom? Why is it so universal? Why is it seen in so many forms? We answer, It is one of the proofs of man's immortality, — the strong, instinctive, universal desire to live, and live forever. It is that to which philosophers have appealed, in the lack of better evidence, to sustain the hope that man would survive the tomb. It is the argument on which Plato rested to sustain his soul in the darkness which enveloped him, and which has been put into the mouth of every school-boy, in the language of Addison":

10. “Whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,

This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the Soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;

'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man."

11. And while this desire lingers in the human soul, as it always will, man can not forget that he is immortal; and it will be vain to attempt to satisfy him that he wholly

been reared by anxious care and toil, by deeds of valor on the battle-field, or by early efforts at distinction in the forum, have perished, still we can not traverse a land where the indications of this deep-rooted desire do not meet us on every side. The once lofty column, now broken and decaying; the marble, from which the name has been obliterated by time; the splendid mausoleum, standing over remains long since forgotten; and the lofty pyramid though the name of its builder is no longer known — each one shows how deeply this desire once fixed itself in some human heart.

6. Every work of art, every temple and statue, every book on which we carelessly cast the eye as we pass along the alcoves of a great library, is probably a monument of this desire to be remembered when life is gone. Every rose or honeysuckle that we plant over the grave of a friend, is but a response to the desire not to be forgotten, which once warmed the cold heart beneath. And who would be willing to be forgotten? Who could endure the thought, that, when he is committed to the earth, no tear would ever fall on his grave; no thought of a friend ever be directed to his tomb; and that the traveler would never be told who is the sleeper there?

7. To this universal desire in the bosom of man to be remembered when he is dead, the living world is not reluctant to respond; for everywhere it manifests such tokens of respect as it deems best suited to perpetuate the memory of the departed. Affection, therefore, goes forth and plants the rose on the grave; rears the marble, molded into breathing forms, over the dust; like Old Mortality,3 cuts the letters deeper when the storms of time efface them; and hands down in verse and song the names of those who have deserved well of mankind.

8. "Patriots have toiled, and in their country's cause
Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve,
Receive proud recompense. We give in charge
Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse,
Proud of the treasure, marches with it down.
To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn,
Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass,
To guard them, and to immortalize her trust.
But fairer wreaths are due, though never paid,
To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth,

Have fallen in her defense:"

9. Why is this passion implanted in the human bosom? Why is it so universal? Why is it seen in so many forms? We answer,- It is one of the proofs of man's immortality, the strong, instinctive, universal desire to live, and live forever. It is that to which philosophers have appealed, in the lack of better evidence, to sustain the hope that man would survive the tomb. It is the argument on which Plato rested to sustain his soul in the darkness which enveloped him, and which has been put into the mouth of every school-boy, in the language of Addison":

10. "Whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the Soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;

'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man."

11. And while this desire lingers in the human soul, as it always will, man can not forget that he is immortal; and it will be vain to attempt to satisfy him that he wholly

ceases to be when the body dies. He will not, he can not, believe it. He would not always sleep. He would not always be forgotten. He would live again,-live on in the memory of his fellow-man, as long as the flowers can be made to bloom, or the marble to perpetuate his name; and then still live on when "seas shall waste, and skies in smoke decay."

1.

LESSON C.

VANITY OF EARTHLY FAME.

HENRY KIRKE WHITE.

Он, how weak

Is mortal man! how trifling! how confined
His scope of vision! Puffed with confidence,
His phrase grows big with immortality,
And he, poor insect of a summer's day,
Dreams of eternal honors to his name,
Of endless glory and perennial bays!
He idly reasons of eternity,

As of the train of ages; when, alas !
Ten thousand thousand of his centuries
Are, in comparison, a little point

Too trivial for account!

2.

Oh, it is strange,

'Tis passing strange, to mark his fallacies!
Behold him proudly view some pompous pile,
Whose high dome swells to emulate the skies,
And smile, and say, "My name shall live with this
Till Time shall be no more;" while at his feet,

Yea, at his very feet, the crumbling dust
Of the fallen fabric of the other day

Preaches the solemn lesson!