HoNoRs TO THE ILLUsTRIoUs DEAD.
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aONONo ~ LIE lLLOOln nlOUo DEAD.


The melancholy story has reached the far
thest extremities Of the land, and in almost
every city, hamlet, and habitation, has it been
proclaimed, that ANDREW JACKSON is no more.
In every direction the tokens of mourning have
been displayed. The thunder Of the minute
gun,-the roll of tho mufled drum,-the proud
banner of freedom, shrouded in Mourning
the solemn procession,--the congregation of
vast multitudes,--all all, indicate some great
national calamity. Age, leaning on its crutch,
with its white locks streaming in the wind
weeps atthe grave Of the departed. Manhood,
strangely affected to tears, wticf it seeks not
to disguise as the evidence Of weakness, bends
with deep and reverential feeling over his Sc
pulchre. Infancy, indebted largely to his he
roic conduct for protection with vestal purity,
places on his grave the tribute Of its gratitude
Beauty still more indebted to his valor, has
brought her offerings to the same shrine.
Chivalry, with its proud emblems, stands with
downcast eyes at the portals Of his tomb. The
Halls of Legislation-the National Capitol
even the Holy Sanctuaries of God-present
the same melancholy signs Of grief


The whole American people, moved by one
common and mighty impulse, have risen up
to pay appropriate honors to the illustrious
dead. Nor have American hearts, only, res
ponded to this feeling of sadness, and poured
forth the free and just tribute of their SYM
pathies, on this melancholy occasion. The
strangers of other lands, who have come to
reside in our midst, and who have been taught
the noble deeds, the generous virtues of the
departed, rise up and mingle their sympathies
with those of our own land. Foreign func-
tionaries, residing near our Government, have
manifested, in their own behalf, and in behalf
of their respective countries, the respect due
to the occasion.


One thing is worthy of remark. Whatever
personal or party rancour may have felt
whatever it may have uttered, while the de-
parted was yet amongst us, its voice has been
silent, now that the grave has closed over his
dust. Political opponents have united with
political friends, to do justice to his memory,
and render all proper and becoming tokens Of
grateful remembrance. At his grave the spirit
of resentment has been sacrificed Men have
thought and spoken Of him only as the true,
the tried, the valorous leader to battle and
victory; as the distinguished patriot--as the
lover of freedom-as the universal friend Of
man.


| Should all these things occur in our midst
without furnishing US with salutary lesson !?


See the end Of man. Behold the goal to
which he is pressing.


"The boast Of heraldry, the pomp of power,
| And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,


Await, alike, the inevitable hour;


The paths Of glory lead-but to the grave"
| How soon will that grave close over every
object Of human pomp and ambition! How
universal is the decree of heaven" dust thou
art, and unto dust thou shalt return"
Go to the grave and mediate. Steal away
from the world, its business, its pleasures, its
follies, and learn the lesson of your own NOR
tality. Unsparing death is at the door. In
the chilling night wind-in the heat and glare
Of mid-day-in the busy city mart--upon the
swelling waves of ocean-upon the quiet
lakes expanse--in the thunder Of batle--in
the fearful storm cloud-in the hush Of the