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Every day of human life brings with it a new sorrow, every week a fresh affliction. Our condition and allotment is a constant succession of change, where adversity and death quickly efface the brighter characters of joy and pleasure ; although, to the Christian, “all things work together for his good.” The unseen but fatal shaft is forever falling among the multitude of men, and those who escape it for the time, are too apt to congratu. late themselves on their happy fortune; they almost believe themselves to bear a charmed life, and scarcely appear to notice who are the victims, or soon forget the solemn warning. The vanities of the world spring up in their bosoms like weeds, and soon choke the good fruits of the salutary and solemn lesson planted there by a bereaving providence. But it is not well or natural thus to suffer the memory of our friends so soon to be obliterated in our hearts. There is a pleasing sorrow in recalling to mind even the look, voice, or gesture of the departed; there is a melancholy pleasure in the remembrance of his virtues; there is unmingled blessedness in the belief that he was a follower of Jesus, and is now gone to be forever with the Lord.

As often as the sad privilege is afforded us of recording the departure of a christian friend from the trials of this world, we shed a new ray into the gloom of the grave, and fix more legibly upon the tomb, the Christian's motto, “ Death is swallowed up in victory."

In speaking of that christian friend, who is the subject of these remarks, we feel that we shall do no violation to truth or propriety, when we speak of the goodness of his heart, the purity of his life, the cultivation of his mind, or the fervor and sincerity of his devotion. The near relationship subsisting between the writer and the subject of this memoir, renders the task of recording his worth one of peculiar delicacy. Yet he humbly hopes and believes that his affectionate regard will be so regulated by a just moderation, that he shall not be betrayed into unwarrantable praise. It is our design simply before we present his journal, to speak, with the privilege of a brother, a few words concerning his character and history. Our notice will be succeeded by a sketch of some traits in his religious experience. This will be followed by extracts from his letters and religious papers, with accompanying remarks.

The subject of this memoir was born at Maidstone, in Essex county, Vermont, the 16th of September, A. D. 1810. He was the son of Isaac and Eliza McLellan, of Boston; and a grandson of the late General William Hull, of Newton, Mass. After a preparatory course of study at the Latin school in Boston, he entered Harvard University in 1825, and received his degree in 1829. Since his decease we have received a letter from one of his classmates, who speaks of his college life in the following terms.

“ His whole college career was independent, manly, hon· orable: he withstood the temptations of the place with a

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