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seemed to pierce even the resolute heart of the defendant. The ladies in the galleries, unaccustomed to such displays of eloquence, excited by the solemnity of the occasion, and perhaps not unwilling to display their taste and sensi5 bility, were in a state of uncontrollable emotion. Handkerchiefs were pulled out; smelling-bottles were handed round; hysterical sobs and screams were heard; and Mrs. Sheridan was carried out in a fit.
At length the orator concluded. Eaising his voice, till
10 the old arches of Irish oak resounded, "Therefore," said he, "hath it with all confidence been ordered by the Commons of Great Britain, that I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanors. I impeach him in the name of the Commons' House of Parliament, whose trust
15 he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of the English nation, whose ancient honor he has sullied. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose rights he has trodden under foot, and whose country he has turned into a desert. Lastly, in the name of human
20 nature itself, in the name of both sexes, in the name of every age, in the name of every rank, I impeach the common enemy and oppressor of all."
EYII.— LINES TO A CHILD, ON HIS VOYAGE TO FRANCE, TO MEET HIS FATHER.
[henry Ware, Jr., was born in Hingham, Massachusetts, April 21, 1794, ind died September 25,1843. He was a settled clergyman In Boston from 1817 to 1820, and afterwards professor in the theological school at Cambridge. He published many essays and discourses on moral and religious subjects, and a few pieces of poetry. He was a man of ardent piety, an earnest and excellent preacher, and always controlled by the highest sense of duty. His prose writings are marked by simplicity, directness, and strong religious feeling; and the few poems he wrote show poetical powers of no common order.
The following lines originally appeared in the " Christian Disciple.*]
1 Lo! how impatiently upon the tide
Her flag streams wildly, and her fluttering sailfl
2 O, 't is a thought sublime, that man can force
To lend their untamed wings, and bear him on
8 'T is wonderful! — and yet, my boy, just such
And thou must sail upon this sea, a long,
CVin. —THE DEATH OF HAMILTON.
fEijphalet Nott was born in Aehford, Connecticut, June 25, 1773, and died January 29, 1866. He was chosen president of Union College in 1804, and was previously pastor of a church in Albany. It was there that he preached the sermon, of which the following is a portion. It produced a great effect, aa the whole nation was deeply moved at the death of Alexander Hamilton, an eminent statesman and soldier, who was killed in a duel by Aaron Burr, July 11, 1804. Dr. Nott published "Lectures on Temperance," and "Counsels to Young Men," and spent much time in experiments and researches connected with the application of the laws of heat to the arts of life.]
A Short time since, and he, who is the occasion of our sorrows, was the ornament of his country. He stood on an eminence, and glory covered him. From that eminence he has fallen, — suddenly, forever fallen. His intercourse with the living world is now ended; and those who would hereafter find him, must seek him in the grave. 5 There, cold and lifeless, is the heart which just now was the seat of friendship; there, dim and sightless, is the eye whose radiant and enlivening orb beamed with intelligence; and there, closed forever, are those lips on whose persuasive accents we have so often and so lately hung 10 with transport.
From the darkness which rests upon his tomb there proceeds, methinks, a light, in which it is clearly seen that those gaudy objects which men pursue are only phantoms. In this light how dimly shines the splendor of victory!15 how humble appears the majesty of grandeur! The bubble, which seemed to have so much solidity, has burst; and we again see that all below the sun is vanity.
True, the funeral eulogy has been pronounced, the sad and solemn procession has moved, the badge of mourning 20 has already been decreed, and presently the sculptured marble will lift up its front, proud to perpetuate the name of Hamilton, and rehearse to the passing traveller his virtues (just tributes of respect, and, to the living, useful); but to him, mouldering in his narrow and humble habita- 25 tion, what are they? How vain! how unavailing!
Approach, and behold, while I lift from his sepulchre its covering! Ye admirers of his greatness! ye emulous of his talents and his fame! approach and behold him now! How pale! how silent! No martial bands admire 30 the adroitness of his movements; no fascinating throng weep and melt and tremble at his eloquence! Amazing change! a shroud! a coffin! a narrow, subterraneous cabin ! — this is all that now remains of Hamilton! And is this all that remains of Hamilton? During a life so 35 transitory, what lasting monument, then, can our fondest hopes erect!
My brethren, we stand on the borders of an awful gulf, which is swallowing up all things human. And is there, amidst this universal wreck, nothing stable, nothing abiding, nothing immortal, on which poor, frail, dying man can fasten? Ask the hero, ask the statesman, whose wisdom you have been accustomed to revere, and he will tell you. He will tell you, did I say? He has already told you, from his death-bed; and his illumined spirit still whispers from the heavens, with well known eloquence, the solemn admonition: "Mortals hastening to the tomb, and once the companions of my pilgrimage, take warning and avoid my errors; cultivate the virtues I have recommended; choose the Saviour I have chosen; live disinterestedly; live for immortality; and would you rescue anything from final dissolution, lay it up in God."
CIX. — THE INDIANS.
2 We call them savage. 0, be just!