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with pleasure? And who that has been brought up in a respectable family, and educated as becomes a freeman, is not offended with baseness as such, though it may not be likely to injure him personally?
3. Who can keep his equanimity while looking on a man who, he thinks, lives in an impure and wicked manner? Who does not hate sordid, fickle, unstable, worthless men ? But what shall we be able to say (if we do not lay it down that baseness is to be avoided for its own sake ) is the reason why men do not seek darkness and solitude, and then give the rein to every possible infamy, except that baseness of itself detects them by reason of its own intrinsic foulness ? Innumerable arguments may be brought forward to support this opinion; but it is needless, for there is nothing which can be less a matter of doubt than that what is honorable ought to be sought for its own sake; and, in the same manner, what is disgraceful ought to be avoided.
4. But after that point is established, which we have previously mentioned, that that which is honorable is the sole good, it must unavoidably be understood that that which is honorable is to be valued more highly than those intermediate goods which we derive from it. But when we say that folly and rashness and injustioe and intemperance are to be avoided on account of those things which result from them, we do not speak in such a manner that our language is at all inconsistent with the position which has been laid down, that that alone is evil which is dishonorable.
LXXXI.-THE BURIAL OF MOSES.
ANONYMOUS. "And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor: but no man knoweth of his sepulcher to this day."-Deut. XXXIV:6.
1. By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab,
There lies a lonely grave;
And no man saw it e'er,
And laid the dead man there.
2. That was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth; But no man heard the tramping,
Or saw the train go forth; Noiselessly as the day-light
Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun,3. Noiselessly as the spring-time
Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves,So, without sound of music
Or voice of them that wept, Silently down from the mountain crown
The great procession swept. 4. Perchance the bald old eagle,
On grey Beth-peor's height, Out of his rocky eyrie,
Looked on the wondrous sight; Perchance the lion, stalking,
Still shuns the hallowed spot: For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.
5. Lo when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed and muffled drum,
Follow the funeral car.
They tell his battles won,
While peals the minute gun.
6. Amid the noblest of the land
Men lay the sage to rest,
With costly marble dressed,
Where lights like glories fall,
Along the emblazoned wall.
7. This was the bravest warrior
That ever buckled sword; This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
Traced, with his golden pen,
As he wrote down for men.
8. And had be not high honor ?
The hill side for his pall;
With stars for tapers tall;
Over his bier to wave;
To lay him in the grave,
9. In that deep grave, without a name,
Whence his uncoffined clay
Shall break again-0 wondrous thought !
Before the judgment day,
On the hills he never trod,
With the incarnate Son of God.
10. O lonely tomb in Moab's land,
O dark Beth-peor's hill,
And teach them to be still.
Ways that we cannot tell;
Of him he loved so well.
LXXXII.—THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.
Quit, О quit this mortal frame:
And let me languish into life!
“Sister spirit, come away!”
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ?
Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring;
RICHARD WBATELY. 1. Still it will be said, that unless we suppose a regularly preconcerted plan, we must at least expect to find great discrepancies in the accounts published. Though they might adopt the general outlines of facts one from another, they would have to fill up the detail for themselves; and in this, therefore, we should meet with infinite and irreconcilable variety.
2. Now this is precisely the point I am tending to; for the fact exactly accords with the above supposition; the discordance and natural contradictions of these witnesses being such as alone throw a considerable shade of doubt over their testimony. It is not in minute circumstances alone that the discrepancy appears, such as might be expected to appear in a narrative substantially true; but in very great and leading transactions, and such as are intimately connected with the supposed hero. For instance, it is by no means agreed whether Bonaparte led in person the celebrated charge over the bridge of Lodi (for celebrated it certainly is, as well as the siege of Troy, whether either event really took place or no), or was safe in the rear while Augereau performed the exploit.
3. The same doubt hangs over the charge of the French cavalry at Waterloo. The peasant Lacoste, who professed to