faith," mine own son in the unreserving love of an adopting father's heart; and to perform for him the melancholy rites which I had looked for from his hand. I stand between two graves. I feel that the frail earth on either side is crumbling towards me. I feel that soon the narrow isthmus that sustains me now will sink beneath me. I desire, to-day, to speak, as a poor dying man, to dying men. I desire to look through his grave into mine. I desire to take you, brethren, by the hand, and lead you in the path in which he walked, in the light of his serene and beautiful example; that following him together, as he has followed Christ, we may arise with him from yonder Church-yard: and “through the grave and gate of death, pass to our joyful resurrection," still "looking unto Jesus," "the Finisher," then, as he is now, "the Author, of our faith." Grant it to us, God of our salvation, for thy mercies' sake, in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen and Amen.

BENJAMIN DAVIS WINSLOW,' was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on the thirteenth of February, 1815. My acquaintance with him began, on my removal to that city, in 1828, as the Assistant Minister of Trinity Church. I found him an intelligent and thoughtful boy, with a mind inquisitive and active beyond the

He was the son of Benjamin Winslow, merchant, and Abigail Amory Callahan, daughter of Captain John Callahan.

common wont;' and even then, although I knew it not, producing fruits that seldom ripen on the full grown tree. It was on Advent Sunday, November 28, 1830-the next Sunday, being the first in Advent, will complete the ninth Ecclesiastical or Christian year, the measurement by which he always

1 His father writes, "the early infancy of Benjamin, was remarkable for great originality, bright ideas, and remarks beyond his age." And, what is better still than this, his "docility of disposition was such that little or no complaint was ever made by any person having the care of him; and I never knew a child so easily controlled." The following little dialogue is remembered as taking place between him and a younger sister, after their mother's death, when he was a little more than six years old.

Benjamin. "Lucretia, see that beautiful star. Dear mother is up there, and her spirit is looking down upon us.

Lucretia. How do you know, Benjamin?

B. Why, dear mother said all good people went up above to God; and that He was pure and bright like the stars.

L. Can she look through that star?

B. Mother said, God is a spirit, and could see every thing, and know every thing; and that those who love him would see as far as he can.

L. Can mother see us now?

B. Mother's spirit can.

L. Why cannot mother see us?

B. She will, when we are dead, and go to her."

Those who knew him well, his poetical fancy, and his loving nature, "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," will feel how true it is, "the boy is father of the man."

The playful humour, as bright, and as beautiful, and as harmless, as the heatlightning of our summer skies, in which he excelled all men I ever knew, was also developed very early; as when he said, at four years old, to a venerable relative, who was very much bent with years, "Aunt Sally, why don't you stoop backwards ?"

loved to take his note of time-that I stood up with him, as his God-father; when, at his own instance,

The following is the earliest poetical composition of his that I have seen. It was written at ten years of age. It certainly has character.

Of his early years, a sufficient notice is contained in the customary record of the graduating class at the University, which is as follows.

"Some account of the early life of B. D. Winslow," extracted from the class books of the graduating class, of 1835, "written by himself."

"On the 13th of February, 1815, I commenced myexistence-the date of its termination must be recorded by our worthy Secretary; or some other brother who shall survive: always provided, that I myself am not the last survivor of the class of '35, in which case (altogether however improbable) it must be done by some one not enrolled in our worthy brotherhood. But to my life-like all other lives, it had its ups and downs, its lights and shadows. My path has been illumined by some sunshine, though not without occasional clouds; and darkened by more storms, not altogether destitute of the bow of hope and promise. To myself, my existence has been rife with many interesting and important incidents, which to others would be altogether destitute of interest. If any thing in this world is stupid and meet to bore a man, it is the journal of a private individual's hopes and fears, loves and hatreds, passions and emotions; and the other thousand matters which constitute life—of which opinion being thoroughly persuaded, I shall refrain from inflicting any such relation upon the reader (if readers there should be) of this narration.

and on the full conviction of his mind and heart, he was admitted to the Church of God, in holy baptism, in Christ Church, Boston, by the hands of its beloved Rector, the Rev. William Croswell. Thus, in the sixteenth year of his age-the very year at which good Josiah "began to seek after the God of David, his father"-did our dear friend devote himself, with

I remained at home, among my household gods, till the age of 8 or 9, (I have forgotten which,) when for my health's sake, I took up my abode in the country at the residence of Gen. William Hull, Newton, in whose delightful family I remained nearly a year. From thence I winged my flight to another rest, viz: the abode of the Rev. Samuel Ripley, Waltham, where I was first initiated in the rudiments of the Latin language, and those other mysteries of literature and science, in the pursuit of which, I have since so distinguished myself at our venerable University. At the expiration of two years I left Mr. Ripley's with much regret, and returned to my native city, Boston; there, under the tuition of D. G. Ingraham, Esqr.-a name, which all his pupils together with myself, will ever mention with respect and affection-I remained until August, 1831, when I became a student of old Harvard (clarum et venerabile nomen.) Of my college career; of that which I may have accomplished, if any thing; of the motives by which I have been actuated in my intercourse with my class-mates, it becomes others to speak and judge. From my class-mates, I have received many testimonials of kindness and good feeling, for which I shall ever feel most grateful. Deo volente, I intend to be a clergyman; and if nothing happen, in the course of three years, I shall take orders in the Protestant Episcopal Church : a communion to which I have ever been devoutly attached, in whose behalf I am ready to offer whatever talents I may have been gifted with, and whatever knowledge I may have acquired, or shall yet gain. So much for my life, so much for my future prospects; and now, nothing remains but the customary bow, the parting grasp of the hand-the friendly, the long, perhaps the last farewell. That all my class-mates may be fortunate and happy, beyond what they desire or ask, is the sincere wish of BENJAMIN D. WINSLOW.

Harvard University, May 8th, 1835.

purpose of heart,' to cleave unto the Lord; and thus was that spiritual relationship first formed between us, which ripened into the most perfect confidence and unreserving love that ever grew between a father

1 He was not prone to speak of himself, or of his feelings. The power of his religion was apparent in the "daily beauty" of his life. But a few passages from some of his early letters, may well be inserted here.

To his most intimate friend, he writes, New York, May, 26, 1836. "You promised, sometime, to write your views upon religion. I have looked for this long, earnestly, and with great interest. Do fulfil your promise, my dear- -! For what more noble subject can two true friends converse or correspond about? I have always feared, even with you, to introduce the subject, lest I should do some injury to a cause which I have much at heart. But it is my constant prayer, that we may both be led into all truth: and that having as friends, passed together, with hearts firmly knit, through all the changes and chances of time, we may be friends in and for eternity. Is there not something sublime in the thought of such a friendship? God grant that it may be ours!"

And again, New York, January 5, 1837. "I passed the Christmas holidays at Burlington. You heretics have no conception, how much hearty oldfashioned honest pleasure, we orthodox churchmen extract from our various festivals, especially from that of Christmas. The music, the Church service, the beautiful custom of decking the houses and Churches with evergreens, the social mirth and festivity, the calling forth of the fire-side affections and sympathies, all combine to inake that day the holiest and the happiest of the year. I wish that we could have passed that holiday together. In your

last, you say, that you must have excitement; and so mean to go to all the parties and balls of the gay season. Confident as I am, that that sort of excitement is unhealthy, and leaves the soul in a worse state, than it finds it, still you know, that I never undertake to obtrude my peculiar views and feelings upon any one unasked, even upon my dearest friend. Permit me however, to say, dear that you were made for something better, purer, more enduring

than worldly amusements. I beg of you to read what the Saviour said about the world; and the principles of the world;' and also what he said to that 'young man,' endowed with various and beautiful mental, moral, and per