We are reminded of Job’s imprecation on his own birthday—“Let the day perish on which I was born.”
LXXIII.
He says there are so many worlds, and so much to be done in them—since so little has already been accomplished—that he thinks Hallam may have been needed elsewhere. The earthly career of usefulness and distinction is over; but he finds no fault, piously submitting—
“For nothing is that errs from law;”
all is overruled. We pass away, and what survives of human deeds?
“It rests with God.”
The hollow ghost of Hallam’s reputation may wholly fade here; but his exulting soul carries away unexpended powers for higher purposes,
“And self-infolds the large results
Of force that would have forged a name,”
had he been permitted to live.
LXXIV.