more truly Catholic, and no man delighted more to enjoy Christian communion with the followers of his master, though they might in some less essential particulars, understand the will of that master differently from himself. Like the Apostle Paul, he rejoiced in the spread of the gospel, by whomsoever preached; and he was far more desirous to see his Savior honored, and to learn that sinners had repented and believed, through whatever instrumentality it pleased God to use, than to see the tokens of divine favor confined even to that church which he best loved. In his last days, like the illustrious Grotius, he suspected that even science, with all her loveliness and her benificence, had engrossed more of his affections and more of his thoughts than should have been given to aught below the skies; and as he drew nearer to the eternal world, his soul was more and more rapt in the beatific contemplation of that incomprehensible glory which God hath prepared for them that love his Son. His remains are interred in the burying-ground of the Episcopal Church in the city of Raleigh. The spot which contains them is marked by a monument erected by the Trustees of Hampden Sidney College, and designed, while it commemorates his merits, to testify their sorrow for his loss, and their gratitude for his services. But a more enduring monument, and that which he would have prized far above any other, will be found, as we trust, in the abiding and brightening glories of the Institution to which his best years were devoted, and which shared, with the partner of his bosom and the children of his affection, the last anxieties of his ebbing life. LINES On reaching the banks of the Mississippi at the junction of the Ohio, 1st July, 1818. Mighty stream, I see thee rushing Proudly, madly, wild along-- Like a summer torrent, gushing Sudden, rapid, swift and strong. Now my prow is on thy waters, And I gaze with secret aim, To discover wherein centered, Lies the secret of thy fame. But I gaze in vain--thy billows Gurgle as they haste away; Could their sounds my soul unriddle, I might learn wherein it lay. I might learn that riven mountains, Headlong falls, unpencilled yet, Plains untravelled, thou hast wandered, Ere thy weary waters met. Plains! where still the Bison feeding, Paws in ire the solid ground-- Or the fiery Bear, in fury, Sudden pours his lion-sound. In thy rushing roar of waters I might learn that rivers speak; Great Missouri cries--I mingle, Konza--ho! the sea I seek. Mild Ohio, sweet and mighty, In thy onward wave is lost, And a thousand lesser fountains, Pouring down a varied coast. In a region, drear and polar, Thou hast thy unnoticed rise, And dost issue where the solar Burning heats pervade the skies.