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acknowledged his superiority, and looked up to him with loyalty, reliance, and reverence; the others, who doubted his ability, or conspired against his sovereignty, illustrated in their own conduct their incapacity to be either his judges or his rivals. In the state, Adams, Jay, Rutledge, Pinckney, Morris,-these are great names; but there is not one whose wisdom does not veil to his. His superiority was felt by all these persons, and was felt by Washington himself, as a simple matter of fact, as little a subject of question or a cause of vanity as the eminence of his personal stature. His appointment as commander-in-chief was the result of no design on his part, and of no efforts on the part of his friends it seemed to take place spontaneously. He moved into the position, because there was a vacuum which no other could supply; in it, he was not sustained by government, by a party, or by connections; he sustained himself; and then he sustained every thing else. He sustained Congress against the army, and the army against the injustice of Congress. The brightest mind among his contemporaries was Hamilton's,- -a character which cannot be contemplated without frequent admiration, and constant affection. His talents took the form of genius, which Washington's did not. But active, various, and brilliant as the faculties of Hamilton were, whether viewed in the precocity of youth or in the all-accomplished elegance of maturer life, lightningquick as his intelligence was to see through every subject that came before it, and vigorous as it was in constructing the argumentation by which other minds were to be led, as upon a shapely bridge, over the obscure depths across which his had flashed in a moment, fertile and sound in schemes, ready in action, splendid in display, as he was,-nothing is more obvious and certain than that when Mr. Hamilton approached Washington, he came into the presence of one who surpassed him in the extent, in the comprehension, the elevation, the sagacity, the force, and the ponderousness of his mind, as much as he did in the majesty of his aspect and the grandeur of his step. The genius of Hamilton was a flower, which gratifies, surprises, and enchants; the intelligence of Washington was a stately tree, which in the rarity and true dignity of its beauty is as superior as it is in its dimensions.

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In moral qualities, the character of Washington is the most truly dignified that was ever presented to the respect and admiration of mankind. He was one of the few entirely good men in whom goodness had no touch of weakness. He was one of the few rigorously just men whose justice was not commingled with any of the severity of personal temper. The elevation, and strength, and greatness of his feelings were derived from Nature; their moderation was the effect of reflection and discipline. His

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temper, by nature, was ardent, and inclined to action. His sions were quick, and capable of an intensity of motion which, when it was kindled by either intellectual or moral indignation, amounted almost to fury. But how rarely-how less than rarely -was any thing of this kind exhibited in his public career! How restrained from all excess which reason could reprove, or virtue condemn, or good taste reject, were these earnest impulses, in the accommodation of his nature to "that great line of duty" which he had set up as the course of his life! Seen in his public duties, his attitude and character-the one elevated above familiarity, the other purged of all littlenesses-present a position and an image almost purely sublime.

But when viewed in the gentler scenes of domestic and friendly relation, there are traits which give loveliness to dignity, and add grace to veneration; like the leaves and twigs which cluster around the trunk and huge branches of the colossal elm, making that beautiful which else were only grand. His sentiments were quick and delicate; his refinement exquisite. His temper was as remote from plebeian as his principles were opposite to democratic. If his public bearing had something of the solemnity of Puritanism, the sources of his social nature were the spirit and maxims of a cavalier. His demeanor towards all men illustrated, in every condition, that "finest sense of justice which the mind can form." IN ALL THINGS ADMIRABLE, IN ALL THINGS TO BE IMITATED; IN SOME THINGS SCARCE IMITABLE AND ONLY TO BE ADMIRED.

A. CLEVELAND COXE.

A. CLEVEI AND COXE (who has adopted an older spelling of the family name) is the son of Rev. Samuel H. Cox, D.D., and Abiah Hyde Cleveland,' and was

He gets his middle name from his mother, the daughter of Rev. Aaron Cleveland, (1744-1815,) of Norwich and Hartford, Connecticut. He was the son of Rev. Aaron Cleveland, (1719-1757, a graduate at Harvard College in 1735,) and, from his promising talents, was early destined for college. But, his father (rector of the Episcopal Church at Newcastle, Delaware) dying when he was but twelve years old, and leaving nine other children unprovided for, he was apprenticed to a hatter, and, when of age, established himself in business at Norwich. Subsequently (in 1775) he was chosen a representative to the State Legislature, and served in that capacity for two years. When he was over forty years of age, he experienced a great change in his religious views, and immediately entered upon the study of theology. He was ordained two years afterwards, and preached with great acceptance in various places (part of the time as a missionary in the early settlements of Vermont) until the day of his death, which took place in New Haven in 1815. He was a man of strong native powers of mind, of a most benevolent temper, and of quick and genial wit and humor, which made him a delightful companion. He wrote a great deal, but was so careless of his productions that but few have

born in Mendham, New Jersey, (where his father was first settled,) May 10, 1818, and graduated at the New York City University, with honorable distinction, in 1838. While a student, in 1837, he published Advent, a Mystery; and other Poems. After leaving the University, he entered upon the study of theology, and in 1841 was ordained deacon, settled in Westchester, New York, and was married to Catharine Hyde, of Brooklyn. In 1842, he accepted the rectorship of St. John's Church, Hartford. In 1851, he went to England, where he received great attentions from many eminent scholars and the highest dignitaries of the English Church, the fame of his Christian Ballads having preceded him. On his return home, he remained at Hartford till 1854, when he was elected rector of Grace Church, Baltimore, where he now is.

Mr. Coxe's principal publications are as follows:-In 1840, Athanasion,' and Miscellaneous Poems, and Christian Ballads, the latter of which passed through many editions in England as well as in this country, and, next to Keble's "Christian Year," have probably enjoyed the greatest popularity ever accorded to such a work. In 1844, he published Halloween, and other Poems; and in 1845, Saul, a Mystery. In 1855, he collected and published his Impressions of England, originally contributed for the "New York Church Journal." The book has gone through several editions, and has been very highly and deservedly commended. Besides these larger works, Mr. Coxe has written many valuable articles for the religious periodicals in England and America; such as "Modern English Poetry," and "The Poetry of Cowper," for the "Biblical Repository;" "Devotional Poetry," for the "New York Review;" "Schools in American Literature," and "Writings of Hawthorne," for the "Church Review;" and several articles for "Blackwood's Magazine." He has lately written but little for the press, as he devotes himself most laboriously to his parochial duties.

THE HEART'S SONG.

In the silent midnight watches,
List-thy bosom-door!

How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh,
Knocketh evermore!

Say not 'tis thy pulse's beating;

'Tis thy heart of sin:

'Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth,
Rise, and let me in!

been preserved. Before he was twenty years old, he wrote The Philosopher and Boy, which may be found in "The Poets of Connecticut," and which is superior to any American poetry prior to 1780. In 1775, he published a poem against Slavery: it is in blank verse, and consists of about nine hundred lines. He published also a poem entitled Family Blood, a Burlesque; and two peace sermons, in 1815, entitled The Life of Man Inviolable, which were reprinted in England. I have felt thus much, at least, to be due to my pious and gifted ancestor, not having given him a regular place in my book, with selections from his poetry.

Of the Athanasion, the late Professor Henry Reed thus wrote:-" There is no word I am in the habit of using more cautiously than the word poetry, no title I apply with more reserve than that of poet; but there cannot be here a moment's hesitation in pronouncing this to be a genuine burst of poetry. I did not think there was among us the power to produce any thing equal to it.”

Death comes down with reckless footstep
To the hall and hut:

Think you Death will stand a-knocking
Where the door is shut?
JESUS waiteth-waiteth-waiteth;

But thy door is fast!

Grieved, away thy Saviour goeth:
Death breaks in at last.

Then 'tis thine to stand-entreating
Christ to let thee in:

At the gate of heaven beating,
Wailing for thy sin.

Nay, alas! thou foolish virgin,
Hast thou then forgot,
JESUS waited long to know thee,
But he knows thee not!

THE CHIMES OF ENGLAND.
The chimes, the chimes of Motherland,
Of England green and old,
That out from fane and ivied tower

A thousand years have toll'd;
How glorious must their music be
As breaks the hallow'd day,
And calleth with a seraph's voice
A nation up to pray!

Those chimes that tell a thousand tales,

Sweet tales of olden time!

And ring a thousand memories

At vesper, and at prime; At bridal and at burial,

For cottager and king

Those chimes-those glorious Christian chimes, How blessedly they ring!

Those chimes, those chimes of Motherland,
Upon a Christmas morn,

Outbreaking, as the angels did,

For a Redeemer born;

How merrily they call afar,

To cot and baron's hall,
With holly deck'd and mistletoe,
To keep the festival!

The chimes of England, how they peal
From tower and Gothic pile,

Where hymn and swelling anthem fill
The dim cathedral aisle;
Where windows bathe the holy light
On priestly heads that falls,
And stain the florid tracery

And banner-dighted walls!

And then, those Easter bells, in Spring!
Those glorious Easter chimes;
How loyally they hail thee round,
Old queen of holy times!
From hill to hill, like sentinels,
Responsively they cry,
And sing the rising of the LORD,
From vale to mountain high.

I love ye-chimes of Motherland,
With all this soul of mine,
And bless the LORD that I am sprung
Of good old English line!
And, like a son, I sing the lay

That England's glory tells;
For she is lovely to the LORD,

For you, ye Christian bells!
And heir of her ancestral fame,
And happy in my birth,

Thee, too, I love, my forest-land,
The joy of all the earth;

For thine thy mother's voice shall be,
And here where GoD is King,
With English chimes, from Christian spires,
The wilderness shall ring.

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