of Harrison, now consecrated to us by the touch of death, shall be adopted, his brief possession of the power of the Executive may be fruitful of blessings, which the faithful exercise of its full period had perhaps failed to bring us.

Fellow-citizens, there is one lesson taught us by this mournful dispensation, of inestimable value; the lesson, that, as citizens of the United States, we ALL ARE ONE. We have too much forgotten it. The strife of conflicting parties has gone too far. We have been tempted to lose sight of the precious trust committed to us, as freemen, by the great Arbiter of nations, in our devotion to the men or measures, which are but instruments for its promotion. We had come to look upon the settlement of that greatest question which ever comes before us, not as it tended to the national interest and honour, but as it made for our success, and for the triumph of our party. I deny not, that on all sides, honest purposes might lead to this result. I claim not, that a measure of it is not inseparable from our free institutions; and, in moderation, necessary to preserve their freedom. But I do say, that the evil has by far outrun the good. I do say, that the end has been lost sight of in the means. I do say, that private courtesy, social regards, and Christian charity have been disre garded, in the chase for power and office. I do say, that the very foundations of the republic have been shaken; and the glory clouded, that should ever rest upon the citadel of freedom. God has reproved us from His throne. The flap of the death-angel's wing

has passed before all faces. And, in an instant, the nation's head has crumbled into dust! It still is truebad as the world is!-it still is true, thank God! that "sorrow is a sacred thing!" At this affecting spectacle of mortality, hearts soften, eyes are moistened, hands are clasped. We own, as one great family, the common loss. We bend, as brethren all, beside our father's grave. Let us accept the omen, fellow-citizens! Let us own, and act upon, its lesson! Let us no more forget our common country, our common Constitution, our common heritage of freedom, and the warm blood, on Bunker Hill, at Monmouth,and at Yorktown, that made it common to us all! Honest differences we must entertain. Honest preferences we must avow. But let all differences be merged, let all preferences be yielded, in the great cause which makes, and keeps us, freemen. Never let us forget the patriot grief, that, as on this day, bows the hearts of this whole nation, as one man. And, when the day of trial comes again, and we are tempted to forget our brotherhood of freedom, and the debt we owe to her, who is the mother of us all; let us still hear the voice, which, from that patriot grave, speaks to our hearts, "Sirs, ye are brethren; why do ye wrong one to another?"

Fellow-citizens, have we not all felt, was it in nature not to feel, that, in the death of our Chief Magistrate, death has come near us all? But he will come nearer yet. He will come-when, God knows!-to me, to every one of you. And, should he come to-night, should we be ready to go forth and meet him? Ah, my

dear brethren, talk as we may, and as we must, of other thoughts, and other themes, this is the trial question for us all. And I should ill become my office, and ill express the love which warms my heart for you, and ill discharge the trust with which the kindness of your honoured representatives has honoured me, did I not bid you, in my Master's name, to go, and make your peace with God, through Jesus Christ our Lord; and, in all holiness and righteousness of life, to wait, henceforth, His coming and His kingdom!

II.

A GREAT MAN FALLEN IN ISRAEL.

* A SERMON ON THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT TAYLOR.

2 SAMUEL III. 38.-Know ye not, that there is a prince, and a great man, fallen, this day, in Israel?

In these expressive words, did the great heart of royal David pay its tribute, to the valiant Abner, slain by the treachery of Joab. There are few minds, familiar with the Holy Scriptures, into which, they have not sprung, as the unbidden comment, on that astounding providence, which has stilled the pulses of the nation; and, to-day, twines every altar, in the land, with the funereal cypress. "Know ye not "-men say, to one another, as the lightning record flashes, through the land, "THE PRESIDENT IS DEAD!" "know ye not, that there is a prince, and a great man, fallen, this day, in Israel?"

Death is the "touch of nature," which, pre-eminently "makes the world, all kin." God did not make it. It came in, with sin. Yet, we may say, and, still, be reverent, that, without it, as men have been, since the

* At the request of the students of Burlington College; July, A. D. 1850.

Fall, He could not live, in His own world. It is the one thing, at which nature quails. The fear of it sways the tumultuous Titan throngs, that, else, would scale the Heavens. And the damp chill, from its black wing, as it sweeps through the land, when pestilence falls on it, like a frost; or when, beside us, but a neighbour dies, is the reminder of our own mortality, and the conviction of His dread omnipotence.

Strange as it is, the snake's old sneer, "Ye shall not surely die," still haunts the human heart. We constantly forget, that, when we clasp the loved one, to our heart, we clasp a skeleton. Age, talents, valour, virtue, rank, pre-eminence, in every age, and every. where, deck out, for men, their idols. We come to think, that greatness cannot die.

We marvel, that the

bolt should strike the tallest tree. And, when the pastor falls, as that meek saint,* who fed, for forty years, the little flock, that, then, was tended here; or the physician dies, as that old man,† rare in his virtues, as his skill, who, to three generations, plied the healing art, among you, welcome to every hearth; men look, with mute amazement, on each other; and the country startles, that a mortal should have died!

But, chiefly, is the power of this instinctive superstition shown, when death strikes down the princes, among men. Republicans intuitively feel, that some divinity doth "hedge about a king." Who did not feel a shudder crawl across his heart, when that young

*The Rev. Dr. Wharton, Rector of St. Mary's Church, who died in 1833. Dr. Nathan W. Cole, who died in 1848.