Where is the record of their deeds, their prowess worthy of Achilles,
Nestor's wisdom, the chivalry of Manlius, the native eloquence of Cicero,
The skill of Xenophon, the spirit of Alcibiades, the firmness of a Maccabæan mother,
Brotherly love that Antigone might envy, the honour and the fortitude of Regulus?
Alas, their glory and their praise have vanished like a summer cloud;
Alas! that they are dead indeed; they are not written down in the Book of the living.
High is the privilege of Authorship: I purify mine office;
Albeit earthy stains pollute it in my hands.
For it is to the world a teacher and a guide, Mentor of that gay Telemachus;
Warning, comforting, and helping,—a lover and friend of Man.