Look around on all sides, and see all that
magnificence and devotion can do to honor so great a hero; titles and
inscriptions, vain signs of that which is no more--shadows which weep
around a tomb, fragile images of a grief which time sweeps away with
everything else; columns which seem as if they would bear to heaven the
magnificent evidence of our emptiness; nothing, indeed, is wanting in
all these honors but him to whom they are rendered! Weep then over these
feeble remains of human life; weep over that mournful immortality we
give to heroes. But draw near, especially ye who run with such ardor the
career of glory, intrepid and warrior spirits! Who was more worthy to
command you, and in whom did you find command more honorable? Mourn then
that great captain, and weeping, say: "Here is the man that led us
through all hazards, under whom were formed so many renowned captains,
raised by his example to the highest honors of war; his shadow might yet
gain battles, and lo! in his silence his very name animates us, and at
the same time warns us, that to find at death some rest from our toils,
and not arrive unprepared at our eternal dwelling, we must, with an
earthly king, yet serve the king of heaven.
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