DEUTERONOMY XXXIV: 4, 5.

AND THE LORD SAID UNTO HIM, THIS IS THE LAND WHICH I SWARE UNTO ABRAHAM, UNTO ISAAC, AND UNTO JACOB, SAYING, I WILL GIVE IT UNTO THY SEED; I HAVE CAUSED THEE TO SEE IT WITH THINE EYES, BUT THOU SHALT NOT GO OVER THITHER. So MOSES, THE SERVANT OF THE LORD, DIED THERE IN THE LAND OF MOAB, ACCORDING TO THE WORD OF THE LORD.

"ACCORDING to the word of the Lord." Sweet announcement to a broken-hearted nation, to-day! "Abraham Lincoln died this morning at twenty-two minutes after seven o'clock." That was the message which the wires, heavy-laden with their tidings, sobbed forth yesterday in all our pleasant places. And we awoke from our troubled sleep this morning, and, lo! it was 'not a dream! "According to the word of the Lord." "Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.” We look above all human agency. We recognize the will that never errs nor falters, and that worketh all things, in Heaven and on earth, after its own perfect counsel.

"So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there." He had brought us through the " great and terrible

To this

New

wilderness," unto the borders of our goodly heritage; but was himself forbidden to enter. May the same God, who made him so much better than our fears, - such a father to us all, do even greater things for the Joshua who succeeds him as the leader of our Israel! petition, every heart devoutly responds Amen! responsibilities sober men oftentimes. Possessing real goodness of heart, they bend their shoulders loyally to the unexpected burden, and display great qualities of which they were thought destitute before. Thus a bereaved nation prays and hopes.

How incomplete, how complete, the dear life that has passed on! The surroundings, the hour, the instrumentality, how painful! Why could not the name of one whom we so loved, whom we so tenderly revered, have a seemlier passage to its immortality? Thou, Lord, knowest! Thou dost not respect the person of any man. "Wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish." "Man being in honor abideth not." "Like sheep they are laid in the grave; death shall feed on them." We had traced a resemblance, often, between our beloved President and the great Prince of Orange, called William the Silent. The same devotion to country, the same trust in a Divine Providence, the same cautious and persevering wisdom, the same tender regard for the people who confided in them. parallel have been left imperfect? to the bitter end? We loved to alike in their patriotism; but poor, blinded mortals !—

Oh, could not the Must it be carried on think that they were

we did not foresee the dreadful event that was to make them so much alike in their death! Both slain with wife

and friends around them, in the moment of social freedom and unconcern, by the assassin who long had been waiting for his chance to strike.

Let me quote from history, "On Tuesday, the 10th of July, 1584, at about half-past twelve, the Prince, with his wife on his arm, and followed by the ladies and gentlemen of his family, was going to the dining-room. William the Silent was dressed upon that day, according to his usual custom, in very plain fashion. He wore a wide-leaved, loosely-shaped hat of dark felt, with a silken cord round the crown,- such as was worn by the Beggars in the early days of the revolt. A high ruff encircled his neck, from which also depended one of the Beggar's medals, while a loose surcoat of grey frieze cloth, over a tawny leather doublet, with wide, slashed underclothes, completed his costume. Gérard (the murderer) presented himself at the doorway and demanded a passport. The Princess, struck with the pale and agitated countenance of the man, anxiously questioned her husband concerning the stranger. The Prince carelessly observed that it was merely a person who came for a passport; ordering, at the same time, a secretary to prepare one. The Princess, still not relieved, observed in an under-tone that she had never seen so villanous a countenance. Orange, however, not at all impressed with the appearance of Gérard, conducted himself at table with his usual cheerfulness, conversing much with the burgomaster of Leewarden, the only guest present at the family dinner, concerning the political and religious aspects of Friesland. At two o'clock the company rose from the table. The Prince led the

way, intending to pass to his private apartments above. The dining-room which was on the ground-floor, opened into a little square vestibule, which communicated, through an arched passage-way, with the main entrance into the court-yard. This vestibule was also directly at the foot of the wooden staircase leading to the next floor, and was scarcely six feet in width. Upon its left side, as one approached the stairway, was an obscure arch, sunk deep in the wall, and completely in the shadow of the door. Behind this arch a portal opened to the narrow lane at the side of the house. The stairs themselves were completely lighted by a large window, half-way up the flight. The Prince came from the dining-room, and began leisurely to ascend. He had only reached the second stair, when a man emerged from the sunken arch, and, standing within a foot or two of him discharged a pistol full at his heart. Three balls entered his body, one of which, passing quite through him, struck with violence against the wall beyond. The Prince exclaimed in French, as he felt the wound, "O my God, have mercy upon my soul! O my God, have mercy upon this poor people!"

Such was the death, and such the last exclamation of the great and good father of modern liberty, the son and sire of illustrious princes, the wise subverter of despotisms, the champion of popular rights, to whom, more than to any other man perhaps, the world is indebted for free institutions and free ideas. Who can doubt, if strength had been left our good President when the fatal bullet struck him, that he also would have exclaimed, “O my God, have mercy upon my soul! O my God, have mercy upon this poor people?”

So alike, in the circumstances of their departure, how doubly consoling now to trace the previous parallel between their lives.

Listen. "His constancy in bearing the whole weight of a struggle as unequal as men have ever undertaken, was the theme of admiration even to his enemies. The rock in the ocean, 'tranquil amid raging billows,' was the favorite emblem by which his friends expressed their sense of his firmness." Can you not, as you hear these words, almost see the calm figure of Abraham Lincoln in his cabinet, quietly meditating his wise plans of deliverance, while the nation was quaking with fear, and some were wildly urging him to take the archives and flee? That rock, "tranquil amid the raging billows," has sunk to re-appear in another Sea where, as we would fain hope, only the billows of peace shall kiss it forever more. Hear, again, of the immortal Prince, whom our chief magistrate so closely resembled. "The supremacy of his political genius was entirely beyond question. He was the first statesman of the age. The quickness of his perception was only equalled by the caution which enabled him to mature the results of his observations. His knowledge of human nature was profound. He governed the passions and sentiments of a great nation as if they had been but the keys and chords of one vast instrument; and his hand rarely failed to evoke harmony even out of the wildest storms." Strange that this man should have lived three hundred years ago! It seems to us that we saw him but yesterday, laying his patient hand upon a sea of warring interests and opinions, and soothing them to peace and loyal co-operation;