Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1836-01-14

u tohfRe, CtptHiUtI icoO.
BY NICHOLAS BI DDLE, LIZ d.
Mr.. PRESIDENT, AND GENTLEMEN:
/ We have come, my friends, to revisit to-
gether the scene Of our early studies. Since
last we parted here, time and distance have,
widely separated us:-the world and the
worlds cares nave engrossed us;--deaih with
no sparing hand has been amongst us-but
we have at length returned, probably for the
last time, to mingle our remenbranccs of the
living and our regrets over the departed. At
such an hour what can | say to you that your
own hearts have not anticipated? We stand
here-on this narrow strait which separates
the long past from, the brief futurity which a.
waits us-a feeble group, the wreck of so ma
ny argosies that spread their young and vcn-
turous calls on the wide ocean of life, freight
ed with light hearts, too early overclouded-.
and buoyant hopes too soon quenched be-
meath its waves. How often as the storms of
life assailed them, would they gladly have
turned for shelter to this quiet haven which
they left so impatien,ly, as the prisoned ca
Gle, who chafes his breast against the bars
which keep him from the green fields and gay
flowers Of spring, would, as the clouds OF win
ter gather round him. take refuge in the soil
tary nest which his young hopes deserted.
/ it is our more fortunate lot TO come back
at last to that eclusion;-our early years are
recalled by the presence of scenes endearcd
by crowd of gentle associations,-we seem.
to bathe our hearts in the clear and cool foun-
tain of orr boyhood, whose calm bosom has
| never vet been dlnmed by the tears of sor-
row, nor clouded by the hand of misfortune.
! But in thus communng, the thoughts That
rise unbidden, are full of salutary sadness
! How to live and how to die--to live without
wrong and to die without fear, is the great
lesson Of our moral nature, without which all
: learning is frutless and all knowledge una
! vailing-and if that lesson be best taught by
displaying the transtory and uncertain char
acter Of all the world can give or take away,
with what intensity are these convictions i'll
spred here, where the memory alone Is the
/, great teacher and our personal experience RI.
ses to the dignity Of wisdom. For myself,
\ the most solemn Impressions OF my life are
stamped BY the scene before us. 1t has been
nv lot to be not an unmoved observer OF ma
), nv scenes and persons whose fate best Illus
: trates the nothingness Of human existence
s but none have ever sunk upon my heart wIti'
deeper feeling than this return to the intel
d lectuul home of our boybood.
4 do remember in my youth to have lived
i at Delphos, perhaps the noblest monument OF
!, the ancient world-the awful mother ot wide
, spread religions--deemed to share with the
Y Divinity its knowledge of the future-the
mistress of human destiny, whom nations pro-
ptiated with their offerings-enrchedb by ac-
;. cumuluted arts and treasures to winch an
{ tiouity had no parallel. What is Delphos
/. now? It's magnificent temples lie in ruins
1 the inscriptions which record its glory are de-
/. faced-its oracles are dumb; the supplant
crowd that brought up the votive offerings OF
nations is dispersed, and amidst the fragments
of that religion which overshadowed the
world. under a miserable shed, is raised the
feeble chant of Christian hymn, itself half
r suppressed lest it might offend some barba-
rian soldier of Mahomet A few fragments
, of marble, the shapeless relics Of wall
3 some Drostrate columns. are all that represent
: the buried gories of Sparta, Of Corinth, OF
E Argos: while of Leuctra and Mantnea and
, Chpronea-names that for ages have stirred
= up heroic passions in human bosolns, pst e.
8 nough remains to attest their EXISTENCE
. These are melancholy pictures of the decay
of nations.
' | do remember too, to have stood by the
great master-spirit of our age on the day
when he was crowned Emperor Ihere was
U that duy gathered round him all that could
y fiji the ambition or crafty the heart of IA hu.
. man being. Conqueror III so many fields
:
: trophies that war can give were at his feet
|, He had used them nobly, for he brought peace
= and prosperity to his country, which seemed
\, in lis gratitude, to beslow upon him, no
:. merely its donors, but that fatal gift, its free
! dom. He was surrounded by knsmen t.
o, whom he gave thrones-by warriors who ha'
followed him through so many battles to thu
q his last triumph--by all Europe, that seemed
T. TO contribute or consent to his elevation
y And then the outward magniiicence-the de
IL corations--,he pomps-nll shed the enchant
% ment Of the senses over that great spectacle
ID II seemed as il fortune had gathered oil he
ID yifts merely to scatter them-as, If in scor'
Ut of human destiny, of all its splendor, the grea
D. object should be the first victim. A few shor
o wears, and I strove to resemble this pageant
. Vain. That venerable pontiff, the chief o
" the Catholic religion, who had come iron
y Rome TO bestow on him the crown OF Char
10 Us lemagnc, was now despoiled Of his own king
~ =, dom and imprisoned BY hm,-that wife, th
~ sharer of his humber fortunes, and this da
the partner Of his throne, was divorced oy n'n
oc and her place filed by a stranger-his klns
" mon were all dethroned and banished or exc
= cuted-thc soldiers who had sworn allegianc
n. BETRAYED and deserted him-and he, the lo'
or test and proudest Of them all, twice deihrol'
be ed. twice exiled, perished alone in a wretch
ed island, six thousand miles from the seen
NJ of his dominion and his glory. That Is I'd
by great moral lesson OF our age.
u Yet these examples ofthe decay Of nation
and the uncertain fate Of those who Cover
them. have a weaker hold on our sympaih
" than those changes which affect our own pei
sonal existence. II is now thirty-four yea
siucc the voice you now hear, sounded ''
the last time within these walls. Thirty-iot