duellist finds a sanctuary. I cannot forgive you, my brethren, who till this late hour have been silent, whilst successive murders were committed. No; I cannot forgive you, that you have not in common with the freemen of this state, raised your voice to the powers that be, and loudly and explicitly demanded an execution of your laws. Demanded this in a manner, which if it did not reach the ear of government, would at least have reached the heavens, and plead your excuse before the GOD that filleth them. In whose presence as I stand, I should not feel myself innocent of the blood which crieth against us, had I been silent. But I have

not been silent. Many of you who hear me are my witnesses--the walls of yonder temple, where I have heretofore addressed you, are my witnesses, how freely I have animadverted on this subject, in the presence both of those who have violated the laws, and of those whose indispensable duty it is to see the laws executed on those who violate them.

I enjoy another opportunity; and would to GoD, I might be permitted to approach for once the late scene of death. Would to GOD, I could there assemble on the one side, the disconsolate mother with her seven fatherless children---and on the other those who administer the justice of my country. Could I do this, I would point them to these sad objects. I would entreat them, by the agonies of bereaved fondness, to listen to the widow's heartfelt groans; to mark the orphan's sighs and tears--

And having done this, I would uncover the breathless corpse of HAMILTON---I would lift from his gaping wound his bloody MANTLE---I would hold it up to heaven before them, and I would ask, in the name of God I would ask, whether at the sight of IT they felt no compunction.

You will ask perhaps, what can be done, to arrest the progress of a practice which has yet so many advocates? I answer, nothing-If it be the deliberate intention to do NOTHING. But if otherwise, much is within our power.

Let then the governor see that the laws are ex-” ecuted-Let the council displace the man who offends against their majesty. Let courts of justice frown from their bar, as unworthy to appear before them, the murderer and his accomplices. Let the people declare him unworthy of their confidence who engages in such sanguinary contests. Let this be done, and should life still be taken in single combat, then the governor, the council, the court, the people, looking up to the Avenger of sin, may say, "we are innocent-we are innocent."

Do you ask how proof can be obtained? How can it be avoided?The parties return, hold up before our eyes the instruments of death, publish to the world the circumstances of their interview, and even, with an air of insulting triumph, boast, how cooly and how deliberately they proceeded in violating one of the most sacred laws of earth and heaven.

Ah! ye tragic shores of Hoboken, crimsoned with the richest blood, I tremble at the crimes you record against us-the annual register of murders, which you keep and send up to GOD! Place of inhuman cruelty! beyond the limits of reason, of duty, and of religion, where man

sumes a more barbarous nature, and ceases to be man. What poignant, lingering sorrows do thy lawless combats occasion to surviving relatives!

Ye who have hearts of pity-ye who have experienced the anguish of dissolving friendshipwho have wept, and still weep over the mouldering ruins of departed kindred, ye can enter into this reflection.

Othou disconsolate widow! robbed, so cruelly robbed, and in so short a time, both of a husband and a son, what must be the plentitude of thy sufferings ! Could we approach thee, gladly would we drop the tear of sympathy, and pour into thy bleeding bosom the balm of consolation. But how could we comfort her whom God hath not comforted! To his throne, let us lift up our voice and weep. O God! if thou art still the widow's husband, and the father of the fatherless-if in the fullness of thy goodness there be, yet mercies in store for miserable mortals, pity, O pity this afflicted mother, and grant that her hapless orphans may find a friend, a benefactor, a father in THEE!

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On this article I have done: and may God add his blessing.

But I have still a claim upon your patience. I cannot here repress my feelings, and thus let pass the present opportunity......

How are the mighty fallen! And regardless as we are of vulgar deaths, shall not the fall of the mighty affect us!

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, for ever, fallen. His intercourse with the living world is now ended; and those who would hereafter find him must seek him in the grave. There, cold and lifeless, is the heart which just now was the seat of friendship. There, dim and sightless is the eye, whose radient and enlivening orb beamed with intelligence; and there, closed for ever are those lips, on whose persuasive accents we have so often and so lately hung 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-how humble appears the majesty of grandeur. The bubble which semed to have so much solidity has burst: and we again see that all below the sun is vanity......

The

True, the funeral eulogy has been pronounced. The sad and solemn procession has moved. badge of mourning 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 habitation, what are they ?-How vain! how unavailing!

Approach, and behold-while I lift from his sépulchre 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 the adroitness of his movements. No fascinated throng weep-and melt-and tremble at his eloquence !-Amazing change. A shrowd! a coffin! a narrow subterraneous cabin! This is all that now remains of HAMILTON! And is this all that remains of HIM?-During a life so 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