upon those lips not yet cold in death, on which
admiring Senates have so often hung, and from which I had so often heard
the words of wisdom and affection, I thought of those who were bathing
his dust with their tears--of the kindest and tenderest of fathers, and
of the bravest and best of friends; and I wept as I felt that a large
and various chapter of my own humble life, written all over with the
memories of this illustrious man,--a chapter running from early youth to
grey hairs--would thenceforth be closed evermore. It was only when the
flood was past, that I thought of our common country.

His time had come. He had disappeared from our sight to take his place
in history. He had attained an age almost double that which his father
had reached when that honored statesman fell in a distant city in the
service of his country; and he had been blessed with a larger share of
health than usually attends extreme old age. His faculties, which had
kindled the admiration of our fathers, shone bright to the last. His
children had reached maturity, and watched and cheered with tender care
his failing hours; and with each revolving morn his numerous
grandchildren came with their infantile ways to win the blessing of
their ancestor. Had he lived, he could not have performed any public
service. The voice whose tones had so often echoed in the forum was
gone, and his feeble limbs could no longer bear his weight. His duty
was done. His orations for the crown had all been delivered; and that
crown had been won and worn for half a century with the modesty which
became a wise and virtuous statesman of a republic; and when it was
about to be taken from his brow to be garnered for the coming ages, its
flowers were fresh, and, like those which the muse of Milton strewed
about the walks of Eden, were without a thorn. He had run a long and
glorious course. His duty was all done. He had taken his place in the
history of his country.

In the contemplation of such a character, when the keen pang of parting
is past, joy should take the place of mourning. Let us rejoice at the
prospect which greeted his closing eyes. In his last days he was cheered
by the greatness of his country. When he first saw the light, his
beloved Virginia was indeed bounded by the Ohio, and had a nominal line
on the Mississippi, the extreme verge of the British claim; but she was
the humble vassal of imperial power. He saw that Virginia, when,
retiring from the Danube of