Daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1859-1865, 1860-04-09
EULoGY ON IRVING.

EULOGY ON IRVING.
WILLIAM c. BRYANT, editor of the n. Y.
Post, delivered eulogy on Washington
Irving, before the New York Historical
Society, at the Academy of Music, on Tues
day evening last. The Grafton was
lengthy. We reproduce the concluding
portion of the address.
While he was engaged in writing the
last pages of his life of Washington, his
countrymen heard with pain that his
health was failing and his strength was
ebbing away. He completed the work,
however, though he was not able to revise
the last sheets, and we then heard thaths
nights were altogether sleepless- He was
| himself of the opinion that his labOrs had
| been too severe for his time of life, and
had sometimes feared that the power to
continue them would desert him before his
task should be ended. A catnrrh, to
which lie had been subject had, by some
| injudicious prescription, been converted
into an asthma, and the asthma, according
to the testimony of his physician, DR.. Pc
tiers, one of the most attentive and assidu
Gus of his profession, was at length ac-
compauied by an enlargement of the hear:
! This disease terminated in the nSual way,
by sudden dissolution. On the 2Sth of
|
| den the family good night in his usual
! kind manner, and had withdrawn to his
room, attended 10y one of his neiccs carry
| ing his medicines, when he complained of
a sudden feeling of intense sadness, sank
| Immediately into her arms and died
without 4 struggle.
| Although he had reached an age beyond
which life is rarely prolonged, the news of
| his death was everywhere received with
profound sorrow. The whole country
mourned, but grief was most deeply felt in
| his immediate ncighborhOOd; the little
| children mourned for the loss of their
good friend. When the day of his funeral
arrived the people gathered from far and
near to attend it; this capital poured forth
its citizens: the trains on the railway were
crowded, and multitude, like II mass
meeting, but revcrently silent moved
| through the streets of the neighborinS
village which had been dressed in the
| emblcms of mourning, and clustered about
the church and burial ground. 1t was the
| first day of December; the pleasant Indian
summer of our climate had been prolonged
| far beyond its usual date; the sun shonc
with its softeSt splendor, and the elements
were hushcd into perfect calmi it was
| like one of the blandest days of October.
| The hills and forests, the meadows and
/ W
tcning, in that quiet atmosphere as the fu-
neral service was read. 1t was read over
| the remains of one whose life had well
prepared his spirit for its new stage of be-
| ing. Irving did not aspire TO be theolo
| ginn, but his heart was deeply penetrated
| with the better part of religion, and he had
sought humbly 10 initiate the example of
the Great teacher Of our faith
That amable character which makes
| itself so manifest in the writings of Irving,
was seen in all his daily actions. He was
ever ready to kind 0fiices-tender Of the
feelings of others, carefully just, but ever
leaning to the mcrciful side of justice,
avcrse from strife, and so modest that the
world never ceased to wonder how it
should have happened that one so much
praised should have gained so little nssu-
rance lie envied no mans success-hc
sought to detract from no mans merits,
but he was acutely sensitive both to praise
and to blame-sensitive to such degree
that an unfavorable criticism of any of his
works would almost persuade him that
they were rs worthless as the critic repre-
sented them. He thought so little of him
self that he could never comprehend why
it was that he should be the object of Gu
riosity or reverence.
From the time that he began the COM
position of the Sketch Book his whole life
was the life of an author. His habits OF
composition were, however, by no means
regular When he was in the vein, the
periods would literally stream from his
pen; at other times he would scarcely
write anything. For two years after the
failure of his brothers Mt Liverpool, he
found it almost impossible to write line.
He was throughout life an early riser, and
when in the mood, would write all the
morning and till late in the day, wholly
engrossed with his subject. In the even
ing he was ready for any cheerful paStme,
in which lie took part with an animation
almost amounting to high spirits These
intervals of excitement and intense labor,
sometimes lasting for weeks, were sue
ceedcd by languor, aud at times by depres-
preston of spirits, and for months the pen
would lie untouched; even to answer Il
letter at those times, was an irksome task.
In the evening he wrote but very rarely,
knowing-so. at least, | infer-that no
habit makes severer demands upon the
nervous system than this. 1t was owing,
doubt not to this prudent husbandngi OF
his powers, along with his somewhat alb
sliueut habits and the exercise which he
took every day, thai he was able to preserve
unim paired to so late period the faculties
employed in original composition. lie
had been vigorous walker and a fearless
rider, and in his declining years he drove
out daily, not only for the sake of the open
air and motion, bnt to refresh his mind
with the aspect of nature. One of his th-
voritc recrcutions was listening to music,
of which he was an indulgent critic, and
Ln cnntriycd 10 be pleased and soothed by