MR. AVILDER'S EULOGY. 



the Great Destrojer offers them their choice between a death by flame, or a death by 

 flood. Alas! on some he inflicts both; they are first burned and then drowned! 



The}' are diiven before the devouiing element, and entrust themselves to the mercy 

 of the waves. AJiiiidst the crowd at the stern, stands a man of tall and slender habit, 

 and of thouglilful expression, whose penetrating eye survej^s this perilous scene, and 

 seeks tlie most favorable chnnce of escape. His accustomed self-possession fails him not 

 in this awful extremitj'. He imparts wise counsels for personal preservation to his friends 

 and those about liim; then climbs to the upper deck for articles from the furniture of the 

 boat, on which they ma}' float to the shore. He returns, but his beloved wife and part 

 of his company have already been driven overboard. He commits the rest, and last of 

 all himself, also to the fatal flood, 



" Forlorn of lieart, and l)y severe decree 

 Compelltd reluctant to the faithless sea." 



Thej' sink; the}' rise. With the grasp of death they cling to him and again submerge 

 him ai^d themselves in the Avaves. He brings thein once more to the surface and beats 

 for the shore. Alas! it is in vain; his efforts to save others peril his own life. Entangled, 

 exhausted, and disabled, he sinks to a watery grave. 



But the partner of his life, her sister and brother, who were mercifully rescued from 

 the jaws of death, are still unapprised of his melancholy fate, and search for him in vain 

 among the agonized survivors. But the cry, she sinks! she sinks!! fills their hearts with 

 direful apprehensions. Still they cling to the delusive hope that he may be among those 

 rescued by the rival Armenia and borne to the city of New-York. 



The object of his conjugal love returns to her desolate home. The tidings of this aw- 

 ful disaster fly upon the wings of the wind; the mystic wires tremble at the shock; the 

 press utters its loud lament; the note of woe rings through our streets, fills our dwellings 

 and convulses our hearts with grief. The nation mourns, minute guns are fired upon the 

 spot to arouse the inhabitants of the surrounding country, and to start the dead from their 

 lowly rest. Multitudes rush from every quarter to the mournful scene; they crowd 

 around each body as it is raised and brought to the shore, to identify therein a relation or 

 friend. Among them his brother and partner in business arrive. At length another body 

 is raised. Its countenance is familiar; it is recognised; and at last the melancholy an- 

 nouncement is made that Andrew Jackson Downing is no more. 



" Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay." 



His precious remains are borne back to their native city and to his house of mourning. 

 There they meet his widowed wife, whose ear, during the fourteen years of tht-ir wedded 

 life, had been so quick to catch the sound of his returning footsteps, and who had been the 

 first to greet and welcome him. Alas! she is suddenly bereft by one fatal blow, of 

 friend, mother, husband! The funeral rites are performed; his body is committed to the 

 tomb, " earth to earth," " ashes to ashes," " dust to dust!" 



Thus terminated the earthly career of our lamented brother and associate. But his 

 name shall be perpetuated by fragrant flowers and delicious fruits; by gushing fountains 

 and murmuring streams; by grateful shade and balmy breeze, and by many a rural scene, 



and many a tasteful home. He shall be remembered 



" Where cottages and fanes, and villas rise; 

 AVhere cultur'd fields and gardens smile around." 



But to be more specific, the results of his toil appear in the forests which he has preser- 

 om the merciless axe — in the trees which he has described and made to cont 

 abundantly to the taste and comfort of their proprietors — in the avenues whi 



