fell far short of his wishes or expectations in every thing.

"For the first part of my College life, I was as happy as perhaps any one ever was for so long a time together. Naturally sanguine, hope supplied each want of enjoyment. One misfortune befell me in my Junior year, which this world can never repair. My mother, on January 23d, 1788, died. The highest pleasure I could enjoy was that of pleasing her; and her influence over me was so great that I never deviated from rectitude without feeling myself particularly culpable on her account. Her affection to her children was as great as her sensibility was exquisite. She seldom spoke of their welfare without tears, nor ever remitted her exertions to promote it. She found her chief consolation, under every sorrow and disappointment, in religion. In the doctrines and promises of Christianity she had an unshaken faith; its precepts were her delight, and their practice her ornament. In her expiring moments she felt its supporting power. When she perceived the hand of death ready to snatch her, she bid a calm farewell to her surrounding friends, and with joyful confidence committed her spirit to her Saviour. May her early and constant instructions, her earnest exhortations to goodness, her excellent example, and triumphant death, be indelibly impressed on the minds of her children, and form the directory of their lives. Go, gentle spirit, to thy native region, and join the kindred throng of raptured spirits in bliss to hymn the praises of the great Creator. Thy genial virtues shall flourish in

immortal vigor, and thy reward be vast as thy desires and lasting as thy existence!"

Here end these simple and touching Confessions, disclosing to us as frankly the secrets of his heart, and the foibles of his early life, as those of Augustine and Rousseau; but in tones far more impressive to me than the vehement and impassioned expressions of the one, or the burning and thrilling words of the other. I will only say concerning this fragment, that it was written to be seen by no one, and that its statements are no doubt the overcharged and deeply colored language of a tender and sensitive conscience. His surviving classmates can remember nothing in his College life that would leave the least stain on its moral purity.

Immediately after Commencement, which that year was celebrated on the 15th of July, he returned to Andover, where he spent a year as an Assistant in the Academy, then under the charge of Dr. Ebenezer Pemberton. I happen to have in my possession four letters written in the course of this year, which display the germs of his peculiar style and character of thought, and reveal his feelings at the time, and his purposes and plans for the future. It appears from these letters that he had not then decided on the choice of a profession, but was yet wavering between Divinity and Law.

In one of these letters, dated October 21st, and written to a classmate, still living in this city,* he says, "I enjoy but little here; neither do I suffer

* The Hon. George Blake.

much. No incidents or vicissitudes agitate my breast." The obscure and even tenor of my days originates but few sentiments. I endeavour to keep advancing; knowing that I shall be no sooner stationary, than I shall become retrograde. I gain some upon my disquietude; and after I have practised acquiescence and fortitude for a time, I become a more easy companion to myself and others. The most comfortable method I can find of baffling disappointment is not to feel it. I never mean to be enslaved by inveterate habits or local attachments. My fortune may, but I cannot change. I despise to be preyed upon by imaginary sorrows. When I droop, it shall be under the powerful pressure of real calamity, not the little unfavorable incidents of common life, nor the insignificant whimseys of common men. Heaven knows what is to become of me. I am at present thrust into obscurity, and confined to a very humble occupation. It is as good, however, as I deserve, or am capable of. If I emerge, it will not be to court public applause or toil for power."

In another letter, dated September 19th, addressed to his classmate and friend, William Emerson, afterwards pastor of the First Church in Boston, he says, "I cannot find in myself a prepossession in favor of Divinity; nor do I expect to relish all the drudgeries or be equal to all the labors and fatigues of the Law. In Divinity I love the peace, innocent studies, and domestic pleasures of the clergyman; but I fear the languor, excessive confinement, and gloomy restraints of him. In Law I love and admire the argumentative and eloquent debate, the wide scope for exerting the

powers of judgment and imagination, and the virtues of integrity and patriotism; but I dread the arduous competition for a trifling preeminence, the dry and sometimes low subjects of dispute, and the oppressive tendency of the profession; besides the inequality of my circumstances to the expense of a suitable education, and the insufficiency of my talents to the acquisition of the necessary merit. I am in a stationary condition at present, and a decisive choice may be suspended awhile. I have not much time for private use, in my employment. Eight hours are devoted to my academical labors, and the rest is but little more than sufficient for necessary recreation and refreshment. I almost pant for a release already. But I am endeavouring to model my temper and conduct according to the Christian standard, and to banish from my breast all fruitless anxiety about future acquisitions and pleasures."

In a second letter to the same friend, dated June 16th, 1790, he writes, "I scarcely know what has become of the time that has passed since I saw you; so gentle and sleepy is the current of my days here, that I do not notice its rapidity. I do not care, however, how insensibly the time goes between this and Commencement. My purgatorial torments will, I expect, be then at an end, and a region more favorable to my enjoyment be allotted me to dwell in. I am to go home to Stockbridge, and study Divinity a few months; at the end of which I shall immediately decide, and act upon the ultimate course of my life. As I am now bent to Law, I dislike the scheme of being