Excerpt from Eulogy on the Life and Public Services of Abraham Lincoln, Late President of the United States: Delivered by Public Request, in Christ M. E. Church, Pittsburgh, Thursday, June 1, 1865

Yes! Abraham lincoln is no more. All that could die of him who has defended and rebuilt the tottering structure of our fathers, has passed from earthly view, by a transition as abrupt as his who laid the foundations of the Eternal City, and then, according to the legendary epic of the Roman State, was wrapt from mortal vision in a chariot of fire. The Shadow of the destroyer has mounted behind the trooper, and the grim Spectre of the grisly king followed close upon the pageant of the avenue. The Wise and prudent ruler who was commissioned of God to lead this people through the fiery trials from which they have just emerged - the chief who had just been lifted on their bucklers for a second time to the supreme com mand - the idol of the popular heart, Who had so recently been crowned anew at the Capitol With the symbols of a nation's power, the insignia of a nation's trust, and the rewards of a nation's gratitude, amidst the thundering salvos of artillery, and the re sponsive voices of an innumerable throng, has ceased to listen to the applauding Shout, and passed from the regards of men, into the serener light of an abode beyond the stars, Where the banner of war is furled, and the hoarse summons of the trumpet, and the roll of the stirring drum, no longer awaken either to the battle or the triumph.

On two occasions only in our brief but eventful history, the hand of death has fallen upon the head of this great Republic. On both, however, it descended in a period of public tranquility, bythe quiet and gentle ministration of nature, without shock and without disturbance. The fruit fell when it was ripe, and the nation grieved, but not as those who are without hope. It paused but for a moment to cast its tribute of affection on the tomb, and then hurried onward in its high and prosperous career. For the first time now, in the very hurricane of civil strife, a bloody tragedy, of fearful aspect, and more than mediaeval horror, forestalling the dis solving processes that are interwoven with the law of life, has snatched away the man who, above all others, was most dear to us, almost in the twinkling of an eye, in high health, and in the very crisis of his great work, when the regards of the world were most intently fixed upon him, and the destinies of a nation were trembling in his hands. It is as though an apparition had stalked, in the midst of our rejoicings, into the very presence of the festal board, and it is under the projecting shadow with which that ghastly shape has darkened the whole land as with a general eclipse, that I am asked to discourse to you of the merits and services of the extraordinary man, who has thus disappeared from amongst us after having enacted so large a part in the greatest and most im portant era of the world's history. It is a task which is never easy in the performance, and cannot be faithfully executed until the lapse of years shall withdraw the observer from a proximity that is always unfavorable to the clearest vision, and the work is consigned to the pen of impartial history. It is one, however, which I have not felt at liberty to decline.

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