great grief that the mine
of golden ore was at hand, but that _he_ could work no more. Yet, he
never ceased to be prepared, by adding constantly to his materials;
and, even in the last year of his life, he exclaimed, at times, "_I
think I may soon go on!_" He never ceased to look forward to the time
when his infirmity would allow him to march once more in pursuit of
what had become the "Evangeline" of his life, the only work worthy of
his mature powers:

"Something there was in his life incomplete, imperfect, unfinished,
As if a morning in June, with all its music and sunshine,
Suddenly paused in the sky, and fading slowly, descended
Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen!"

The rich collection he had amassed for this History of the American
Revolution, carefully arranged and bound in volumes, was bequeathed to
his son, ultimately to pass to the Library of Harvard University. I
understand his heir has already discharged the trust by depositing
these treasures in the institution where their collector designed they
should be permanently preserved.

Although the life of Mr. Sparks as an author may be said to have
terminated with his last original publications, he, nevertheless, did
not withhold himself from an active interest in the cause of letters.
He had been appointed McLean Professor of Ancient and Modern History at
Cambridge, in 1839; and for the ten following years, in the midst of
other work, performed the duties of that chair, until, on the
resignation of President Edward Everett, his _alma mater_ bestowed her
highest honor by electing him President of Harvard. This was the
_finale_ of a career of successful labor extending through thirty-eight
years. His Presidency was acceptable as well as popular; especially
commanding the confidence and affectionate respect of the pupils. He
was no martinet, but fostered the manhood of the generation entrusted
to his government. A friend who was present in Cambridge, and well
acquainted with Mr. Sparks's administration of the Presidency, tells me
that its peculiarity was the parental character of his intercourse with
the under-graduates. After the stateliness of some of his predecessors,
this bland demeanor of the new President alarmed by its supposed
relaxation of a discipline which the over-nice are accustomed to
enforce by a stern preservation of cold formality; yet, even the
critics who considered him a little slack, did not fail to see tha