While seeking these fruitful glories for ourselves, let us strive for their extension to other lands. Let the bugles sound the _Truce of God_ to the whole world forever. Not to one people, but to every people, let the glad tidings go. The selfish boast of the Spartan women, that they never saw the smoke of an enemy's camp, must become the universal chorus of mankind, while the iron belt of War, now encompassing the globe, is exchanged for the golden cestus of Peace, clothing all with celestial beauty. History dwells with fondness on the reverent homage bestowed by massacring soldiers upon the spot occupied by the sepulchre of the Lord. Vain man! why confine regard to a few feet of sacred mould? The whole earth is the sepulchre of the Lord; nor can any righteous man profane any part thereof. Confessing this truth, let us now, on this Sabbath of the Nation, lay a new and living stone in the grand Temple of Universal Peace, whose dome shall be lofty as the firmament of heaven, broad and comprehensive as earth itself. TRIBUTE OF FRIENDSHIP: THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. ARTICLE FROM THE BOSTON DAILY ADVERTISER, SEPTEMBER 16, 1845. I have just returned from the funeral of this great and good man. Under that roof where I have so often seen him in health, buoyant with life, exuberant in kindness, happy in family and friends, I stood by his mortal remains sunk in eternal rest, and gazed upon those well-loved features from which even the icy touch of death had not effaced all the living beauty. The eye was quenched, and the glow of life extinguished; but the noble brow seemed still to shelter, as under a marble dome, the spirit that had fled. And is he dead, I asked myself,--whose face was never turned to me, except in affection,--who has filled the civilized world with his name, and drawn to his country the homage of foreign nations,--who was of activity and labor that knew no rest,--who was connected with so many circles by duties of such various kinds, by official ties, by sympathy, by friendship and love,--who, according to the beautiful expression of Wilberforce, "touched life at so many points,"--has he, indeed, passed away? Upon the small plate on the coffin was inscribed, JOSEPH STORY, _died September 10th, 1845, aged 66 years_. These few words might apply to the lowly citizen, as to the illustrious Judge. Thus is the coffin-plate a register of the equality of men.