histories. It will be apparent that the duty of preparing Mr.
Wilbur's biography could not have fallen into more sympathetic hands.

In a private letter with which the reverend gentleman has since favored
us, he expresses the opinion that Mr. Wilbur's life was shortened by our
unhappy civil war. It disturbed his studies, dislocated all his habitual
associations and trains of thought, and unsettled the foundations of a
faith, rather the result of habit than conviction, in the capacity of
man for self-government. 'Such has been the felicity of my life,' he
said to Mr. Hitchcock, on the very morning of the day he died, 'that,
through the divine mercy, I could always say, _Summum nec metuo diem,
nec opto_. It has been my habit, as you know, on every recurrence of
this blessed anniversary, to read Milton's "Hymn of the Nativity" till
its sublime harmonies so dilated my soul and quickened its spiritual
sense that I seemed to hear that other song which gave assurance to the
shepherds that there was One who would lead them also in green pastures
and beside the still waters. But to-day I have been unable to think of
anything but that mournful text, "I came not to send peace, but a
sword," and, did it not smack of Pagan presumptuousness, could almost
wish I had never lived to see this day.'

Mr. Hitchcock also informs us that his friend 'lies buried in the Jaalam
graveyard, under a large red-cedar which he specially admired. A neat
and substantial monument is to be erected over his remains, with a Latin
epitaph written by himself; for he was accustomed to say, pleasantly,
"that there was at least one occasion in a scholar's life when he might
show the advantages of a classical training."'

The following fragment of a letter addressed to us, and apparently
intended to accompany Mr. Biglow's contribution to the present number,
was found upon his table after his decease.--EDITORS ATLANTIC MONTHLY.]

TO THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY

JAALAM, 24th Dec., 1862.

RESPECTED SIRS,--- The infirm state of my bodily health would be a
sufficient apology for not taking up the pen at this time, wholesome as
I deem it for the mind to apricate in the shelter of epistolary
confidence, were it not that a considerable, I might even say a large,
number of individuals in this parish expect from their pastor some
publick expression of sentiment at this crisis. Moreover, _Qui tacitus
ardet magis uritur_. In trying times like these, the bese