pose of spending his approaching vacation in Boston, where he might pursue, under the guidance of able teachers, the study of the French and German languages, as also extend his acquaintance among the intelligent families of that city. He observes :

"No instructor in the French and German, to my knowledge, resides in this vicinity; and as the pronunciation of those languages is such, that it is impossible to get hold of it without an able instructor, the Professors of this College have advised me to spend the vacation in Boston. Besides, the knowledge of the French and German, and especially the French, is an acquisition which cannot fail to excite the attention of him who values an extensive acquaintance with literature, science, and especially of theology."

This plan he abandoned, and on the 3d of May, in a letter to his sister, feelingly alludes to the departure of his fellow-students, and especially to his sufferings when compelled to bid farewell to his dear classmates at Middlebury, " uncertain," he adds, "whether I should ever see any, and quite certain that I should never see all of them again."

"Never shall I forget my emotions when, for the last time, I pressed my friend B- to my heart. Even now there are very few engagements which I would not sacrifice for his welfare. Sweet, very sweet, is the reflection, that I have one friend who loves me: a friend who, as such, honors the name of genuine affection. B-- is a man, a friend, a philanthropist. O, could I see him a Christian!

"Fond as may be our reciprocal attachment, it is certain that it must wither in the hour of death unless cherished by a principle that never dies. O, my dear sister, be assured that, notwithstanding my propensity to be gay-my seeming indifference, many of my hours witness the anxiety I feel for the everlasting welfare of my friends. I have just been reading the Memoirs of Mrs. Newell. Seldom have I perused a more interesting work. History may wreath unfading laurels around the brows of a Catherine, an Elizabeth, or a Jane Shore; but history cannot furnish an instance of so much disinterestedness, heroism; so much of every thing truly admirable, as is presented in the character of Mrs. Newell. Though she wore no sceptre, and her name may not live in columns of marble, yet long will her inemory be cherished by the Christian world The book shall be sent you as soon as possible. I am anxious that H. and J. should peruse it. Some may attribute her conduct to enthusiasm. If this be enthusiasm, I most sincere. ly pray that I may possess it. The girls will read the work with interest, I dare say; and if they find nothing to approve in her religious zeal, will drop a tear over the grave of a woman who was an ornament to her sex, who died a martyr to the cause she loved, and whose spirit, we can ra. tionally believe, is now living with the God who gave it."*

To the same :

"ANDOVER, 7th of May, 1814.

"You will feel surprised to see my stupid letters crowd. ing in upon you so fast; but to one who knows the sincerity of my affections, I need offer no apology. The richest, and almost the only luxury, of separated friends is derived

* While at Andover, Mr. Larned appeared clad in a suit of grey, which occasioned some remarks among those students whose ideas of theological learning were associated with the grave and more solemn color of black; and in allusion to this he observes, "If, by-the-by, he (Mr. W.) should tell you some humorous stories about my grey clothes, you must not be alarmed, for I am sure I shall feel myself fortunate, if my character is never distinguished by a darker color than grey."

from an interchange of letters; and this is peculiarly the case with me, shut out as I am from the human creation, and all companions, save my reflections and books. Picture to yourself, sister, a delightful retreat, about three miles from the village; place in the centre a comfortable farmhouse, inhabited by a worthy but rustic couple, childless and noiseless, respected for their integrity, and famous for their butter and cheese; paint the beautiful Shaushire, winding its waters so as to form a lovely island in full view; embroider the whole scene with shrubbery and verdure; then seat your brother in a chamber which, though Gothic, is pleasant and comfortable, and which commands this prospect of rural elegance, and you will form some idea of the place in which I shall spend the present vacation. And why, you ask, do you, so fond of society, so in love with life, thus willingly go into retirement? Nothing is so favorable to a successful examination of the heart as seclusion. No where, so well as in solitude, can we candidly canvass the state of our moral feelings. And surely he who contemplates becoming a spiritual guide, a pilot through the storms of life, should be prepared for the stupendous undertaking. Were there more care and scrutiny on this score among the clergy, they would have less difficulties to struggle with in the world. A man of equivocal piety stands little chance of success in his exertions, whether those exertions be correct or not. So it is not enough to be pious; but people must believe it. Hence the necessity of so uniting humility with firmness, cheerfulness with solemnity, and forbearance with duty, that the world shall be obliged to confess 'we have been with Jesus.' Here we find, in my opinion, the grand reason why so many disbelieve the reality of religion. We tell them that all Christians experience a radical change of heart, and have the same general views. They lead us to a church of 150 or 200 persons, and ask us why the actions, manners, and, apparently, the motives of different members of this church, are so diametrically op. posite. Or, perhaps, they will show us two clergymen, one very humorous and the other very grave, and say, 'One of these must be bad if you speak the truth, and which can we safely follow?" Now, although this reasoning is erroneous, still we ought, as far as possible, to wear away all such prejudices. And the best, perhaps the only way to do this, is to attend, first to our own natures, and then to the natures of those around us. By this means, and by com. paring ourselves with others, by seeing how far we may or may not make ourselves all things to all men, by ascertaining the exact points of difference between judicious and injudicious example, we may learn a lesson which libraries could not teach us."

To this self-inspection, and early habit of observing human nature, and the causes which affect its character, may doubtless be traced much of the influence and success of the subject of this memoir. For reasons not very clearly stated, he left Andover after a few months, and took charge of a school in his native town of Pittsfield, where he acquired, in a short time, great popularity as an instructor, though from some of his letters we might infer that the employment was little congenial to his taste. In two or three letters to a classmate, written while occupied with his school in the summer of 1815, he expresses his purpose to join the theological seminary at Princeton before the close of the year, and in one thus speaks of his religious emotions:

"No one knows with what anxiety I have long looked forward to my futurity. Few and valuable are my hours of composure. They come, like the rainbow, to gild the darkness of the tempest, and so distant and deceptive are they, that the calmness they bring is rather the stillness of apathy than the serenity of a tranquillized heart. But still they are precious, for in them I forget that I am unhappy; In them I see, too, the object which has too entirely guided my views, losing its disproportions, and the love of ease gradually changing to the love of usefulness. I sincerely beg your prayers, that I may be directed in the paths of duty and innocence. There is an extensive revival of religion in Lenox, six miles distant. Twenty-five, chiefly young persons, will unite with the Church the next Sabbath. I once rejoiced in the prosperity of religion, and to some extent, I now do; but I fear that if I ever was a Christian, I have been losing ground ever since I first occupied it."

In another letter to the same, he thus notices the death of a young friend

"Our friend and your classmate, you have doubtless heard, is in another world, and you will believe, in a better world. When in Andover, I watched with him. He was calm and composed. His was a complete victory over death. Venerated spirit! amiable, excellent man! He is now in heaven, covered with glory and righteousness."

On the Fourth of July of this year, he delivered an oration before the citizens of Pittsfield, exhibiting an accurate knowledge of the state of the country, and pregnant with patriotic sentiment, and the fire and hope of youthful genius. On the 20th of November, he informed his sister of his arrival at Princeton, and that every thing in his situation promised to make him happy, adding, that if he failed to improve, and above all, in the piety and humility of the Gospel which he was preparing to preach, the fault must be all his own.