THE DESIRE OF REPUTA THE subject on which I propose to ado time, is, THE DESIRE OF REPUTATION. My complished if I can set before you the desire is implanted in the human bosom principle of action; the modifications und pears, and the perversions to which it is principles which are to guide us in seeking which is now open, especially in this coun honoured name. I have selected this subject because the before me that does not beat with a gene known and to be remembered; because th tion of the bosom that is more likely to be and to be a source of injury; because, for cially, it is desirable that the proper metes indulgence should be laid down with care am persuaded, when properly understood, an important auxiliary in the cause of lear virtue, and even true religion. I will not demn any thing which I believe to be ar our nature, however it may have been ab believe that any thing which God has in bosoms may not contribute to the most ex of man. The desire of an honoured name exists M79987 sciousness of being; to be remembered, at least, for a little while after we are dead. Next to the dread of annihilation-the most fearful thought which crosses the human soul-we dread the .immediate extinction of our names when we die. We would not have the earth at once made level over our graves we would not have the spot where level over, our g we sleep at once forgotten; we would not have the last traces of our existence at once obliterated from the memory of the living world.. I need not go into an argument to prove that this desire exists in the human soul. Each one has only to look into his own heart to find it always there in living power and in controlling influence. I need not ask you to cast your eyes upon the pages of history to see the proofs that the desire has found a home in the heart of man. I need not point you to the distinguished heroes, orators and poets of past or of modern times; nor need I attempt to trace its operations in animating to deeds of noble daring, or its influence on the beautiful productions of the chisel or of song. Ovid showed it when looking down into far distant ages, and anticipating the judgment of future times, he said: Jamque opus exegi: quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignes, METAMOR. xv. 871. anni man mes made here last me esire into nd in eyes esire point s of e its rits or of stant 5, he Milton was warmed by the same gener felt that there dwelt within him the innate p a monument which would convey his name when he uttered this sentiment: "I began friends here at home, and not less to an inv which now grew daily upon me, that by lab study (which I take to be my portion in with the strongest propensity of nature, I leave something so written to after times, not willingly let it die."* Klopstock, in odes, has described the instinctive desire of tion, and of living in the memory of posteri ed on a virtuous principle: "Sweet are the thrills, the silver voice of fa Triumphant through the bounding bosom And immortality! how proud an aim! What noble toil to spur the noblest hearts! By charm of song to live through future tim To hear, still spurning death's invidious st Enraptur❜d quoirs rehearse one's name subli E'en from the mansions of the grave invok Thee, love! thee, virtue! fairest growth of 71. *The Reason of Ch. Gov. urged against Prelacy † Reizvoll klinget des Ruhms lockender Silber In das schlagende Hertz, und Unsterblichkei Ist ein Gedanke, Ist des Schweisses der edlen werth! as been reared by anxious care and toil; by deeds of valour in the battle-field; or by early efforts at distinction in the forum, have perished; still we cannot traverse a land where the indications of this deep-rooted desire do not meet us on every side. The once lofty column, now broken and decaying; the marble from which the name has been obliterated by time; the splendid mausoleum, standing over remains long since forgotten; and the lofty pyramid, though the name of its builder is no longer known; each one shows how deeply this desire once fixed itself in some human heart. Every work of art; every temple, and statue; every book on which we carelessly cast the eye as we pass along the alcoves of a great library, is probably a monument of this desire to be remembered when life is gone. Every rose or honey-suckle that we plant over the grave of a friend is but a response to the desire not to be forgotten which once warmed the cold heart beneath. And who would be willing to be forgotten? Who could endure the thought that when he is committed to the earth no tear would ever fall on his grave; no thought of a friend ever be directed there; and that the traveller would never be told who is the sleeper there?-Even the poor slave that desires to be remembered by his fellow-slave when he is Durch der Lieder Gewalt, bey der Urenkelin Son und Tochter noch seyn, mit der Entzückung Ton Oft gerufen vom Grabe her. Dann ihr sanfteres Hertz bilden, und Liebe, dich Ist des Schweisses der Edlen werth! Der Zürchersee. To this universal desire in the bosom of membered when he is dead, the living world to respond; for were there no higher prin wish to ask at the hands of others what the show for the departed. Affection, therefore plants the rose on the grave; rears the marb breathing forms, over the dust; and, like cuts the letters deeper when the storms of ti and hands down in verse, and song, and lyre and the monument, the names of those served well of mankind. "Patriots have toiled, and in their country's 1 Why is this passion implanted in the Why so universal? Why is it seen in so m answer, It is one of the proofs of man's in strong, instinctive, universal desire to livefor ever. It is that to which philosophers appealed, in the lack of better evidence, to s that man would survive the tomb. It is th which the eye of Plato fixed to sustain h the darkness which enveloped him, and w |