merely asking for it. Martha! I do think the angels in heaven would almost disbelieve this sad degrading story. The only thing for us to do is to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Let us do all the little good we can while here, and in the glorious morning of the resurrection, when the light of eternity shall burst upon the night of the grave, we shall meet our Saviour never more to sin, to weep, or to be sorrowful."

In the autumn of this year he wrote to his brother George, who had entered the army, inviting him to be present at the commencement in Middlebury, when his connexion with the college was to terminate, and he was to deliver an English oration; and responded with warmth and patriotic enthusiasm to some expressions of apprehension in his brother's letter, for the safety of his father, then engaged in the military service of his country. The passage too well illustrates his sense of honor as well as of religion, to be omitted.

"It did not surprise me to hear you express yourself as very anxious for the safety of our beloved parent. Your solicitude cannot surpass mine; but I think I have one consolation-he is in the hands of his Father and my Father, of his God and my God.' I feel willing to have him go. I believe the cause in which he is engaged to be a just one, and much as I deprecate the horrors of war, I think every sinew ought to be exerted in its prosecution, especially as so great a part of the American people unblushingly oppose the constituted authorities of their country. I should prefer, my dear George, to see the heart either of him or yourself palpitating on the point of the bayonet, than to have you return in disgrace and shame to our family. Against one thing I cannot but caution you (though I hope and believe it unnecessary), the profaneness of a military life. It is a strange notion, that a man cannot be a soldier unless he be a profane swearer. Where then is Wallace, Tell, and Washington? Were not they soldiers? Were not they patriots? Yes; they were. But they did not blaspheme the God that made them. An opinion in favor of this practice will not accompany a person into eternity-no, it dies on a deathbed. You are now, my dear brother, entered upon a career which will either be useful or the reverse to yourself and friends. Go on-gather the laurels of renown in every honorable manner possible-remember mercy and justice-remember that the fame, which is tarnished by the tears of the widow and the fatherless, or which mixes with the death-groans of a vanquished enemy, is a poor acquirement. Pursue, in every respect, the course of conduct for which you have been characterised, and you shall go accompanied by the sincere prayers of your affectionate brother."

At the commencement, in this year, he delivered an oration on the Fall of Poland. "It was especially," (says a friend of his,) "in the then political state of the world, one of those free and inspiriting subjects, on which he could spread the wings of his imagination for a bold and brilliant flight. It admitted, also, of ardent and impassioned appeals to such principles and recollections in American bosoms, as are cherished with an enthusiasm bordering on idolatry. It gave full scope to that powerful invective, the weapon so effectually used by Demosthenes against the Macedonian tyrant, and by Chatham against a haughty and oppressive English ministry. Had Larned entered the political arena, he would, doubtless, have honorably competed with the first orators and debaters in the nation, for his eloquence was of that bold, ready, energetic character so pleasing to Americans, so consonant to the genius of our institutions, and so successful in the popular assembly of the nation. There was also a certain elegance and moral beauty, which, without diminishing its energy, gave it a captivating power; for there is that in human nature which renders homage to the beautiful and graceful, whether in art, science, nature, or the living form."*

He became a member of the Church of Christ in his native town of Pittsfield; and immediately after his departure from college, commenced his theological studies in connexion with the theological seminary at Andover, Massachusetts. At this period, he had just entered upon his seventeenth year, and though his sense of religious duty was deep and unequivocal, yet he retained that fine, unaffected, frank air and tone of cheerfulness and independence which were his endowments by nature, and which one of the best constitutions and unimpaired health had enabled him to preserve. At this early age, and ever after, he appears to have felt an aversion to mere formal shows of piety, and to have been more concerned to acquire sanctity of character than the reputation of it. If the fault of levity was sometimes his, none ever suspected him of insincerity or hypocrisy. A few extracts from letters addressed to his sister, during the few months of his residence at Andover, will prove the best comments we can supply, upon his thoughts, sentiments, and purposes. The first is a playful note, and bears date Andover, 22d Feb. 1844:

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"My Dear Sister-may command the first moment of leisure I have had for several months. Our studies this year are peculiarly pressing and important, which renders time uncommonly valuable. However, I need not seek for an apology: ascribe my neglect to any thing you please but a debility of affection. I see by a census sent me from Pittsfield by my friend C-, that you have an increase of population in your family. By the terms used, ('Capt. H. has an assistant advocate,') I conclude that the youthful miracle, as H calls such things, is a son. Presuming that he has not a name, I am disposed to recommend one for your consideration-it is Sylvester Larned. The word Sylvester is derived from the Latin, and conveys the ideas of rural scenes and imagery. You easily perceive the connexion which this definition has with the character of a poet. As to Larned, it carries its meaning on its face, for by inserting an e, you will see it constitutes a trait of character which few are said to have, and which fewer possess. You will bear in mind, also, that the name belongs to me, which, I presume, will give it adventitious value."

To the same :

"ANDOVER, 10th April, 1814.

"I have taken up my pen to write a plain, honest letter. If I should lose sight of all the beauties of style, I can plead at least one excuse, that my attachment to an amiable and beloved sister needs no ornament of language in order to appear sincere. Affection need not beg assistance from the dictionary: every one has dictionary enough in his own head to speak what he thinks, and though some may write a friendly letter without a friendly heart, no man can have a friendly heart without writing a friendly letter. Epistolary writing is in itself most irksome: the reflection that we are addressing a friend alone is a recompense for the pain. But, dear sister, how happy should I be could I look forward to nothing worse than the tediousness of letter-writing. To one of my youth, impetuosity, and weakness, a correct prospect of the future must give anxiety. Thousands, infinitely better than myself, have sunk under the pressure of unexpected temptations, and brought disgrace upon their solemn profession. I am preparing for the ministry! I, who am but dust and ashes! O, M, you would pity me could you see the tumult which frequently arises in my bosom. How unworthy is he to preach the great truths of redemption in public to an audience that may hang upon his lips, who is either too weak or too wicked to set an example of piety in private life! Again and again have I half resolved to relinquish the study in which I am engaged to retire to merited obscurity, and seek peace far from the turmoils of the world. But to this there are insuperable objections. Duty commands me to satisfy the hopes of my friends, and to do all the good I can to the cause of religion. Which way shall I go? O, my dear sister, all is dark and cheerless before me. The more a person advances into the mysteries of the Bible, the more he is amazed by the stupendous plan of Redemption, and the more he is bewildered by a view of his own ingratitude. At times I feel cheerful-a ray of hope animates me to go on in the sacred office-a hope that I shall not be suffered to stain the records of Heaven by my ill conduct. Again, there are seasons, when not a glimmer is seen on the gloom of despondency. If an Apostle, in contemplating the solemnity of his station, exclaimed, 'Who is sufficient for these things?' what shall I say? But were I to relinquish my present pursuits, where shall I go? It is more dangerous to retreat than to proceed. Proceed, then, I will. God is faithful, and he has marked out my destiny."

In his next letter, dated in April, he avows a pur