My father was entered at Harvard in 1792, just after he had passed his eighteenth birthday, and at once made himself known as a diligent student. He drank deep at the fountain of human wisdom, and maintained a high rank through his entire course. His friend and classmate, the Rev. Samuel Dana, of Marblehead, said of him: " He was decidedly the first member of the class for intellectual attainment, among such competitors as John Pickering and James Jackson."

At the time of his leaving home, Leonard, though well taught in the doctrines of the Bible, had never laid hold of Christ, and, by personal faith in his atoning sacrifice, made Jesus his Saviour. The salutary influence which, under his father's roof, had drawn him toward the good, and caused him to repel the bad, was now withdrawn. He found in college life, trials and temptations of which he had never dreamed.

At that time, the low state of morals throughout the country had greatly affected the principles of the Harvard as well as of the Yale students. The leaven of infidelity, brought to our shores by

the French troops, who performed such valuable service under Lafayette and other distinguished generals in the Revolution, had worked out it's legitimate results, infesting the sentiments of some high in official position, and infusing its poison into the fountain of learning. In Harvard, scepticism was then the fashion, and experimental piety at a great discount. During a part of my father's course, there was only one professor of religion in the four classes. This was John H. Church, afterwards Rev. Dr. Church, of Pellam, N.H.

Leonard's early training prevented him from imbibing such fatal errors. When he heard scoffs at religion in general or sneers at individual piety, the thought of his father's godly teachings, the fervor of his prayers, the recollection of his mother's kindling eye and animated features when the holy doctrines of salvation by grace were discussed, the calmness with which she endured trials, sustained by divine power, made him shrink with horror from these bolder attacks upon the truth. But alas, for the iniquity of the unregenerate heart! The subtle reasonings of Priestly, which exalt man in the same ratio that they depress God, gradually gained a power over his mind. But though among his classmates he was known to be an admirer of Priestly and his school of freethinkers, yet he never could rid himself of the feeling that the doctrines of grace, though humbling to human pride, might, after all, be the true revealings of the Word of God. He knew how

precious these doctrines were to his parents and to other godly friends. He saw the fruit of humble reliance on God in the daily walk and conversation of young Church, and confessed to himself a desire to enjoy the same serenity and peace conspicuous in his friend. A few weeks before his graduation, an event occured which gave intensity to his desire. He one day accompanied some classmates to the Charles River, where, in a retired spot, they were in the habit of bathing. After a vigorous plunge into the water, he waded out some distance from his companions, when they were suddenly startled by a loud shriek of distress, and perceived with horror that he had sunk out of sight. They hastened to his assistance, but he had gone down for the third time before he was rescued, and then, at the risk of life to the rescuers. He had fallen into a sand pit, which at high tide was completely hidden from view.

Never shall I forget the emotion with which he described this scene. It is as vivid as though I had been present. "I suppose," said my father, "that from the time I left my companions to the time I was laid senseless on the bank, it could not have been over five minutes; but oh! the thoughts of my past life which flashed through my mind with the rapidity of lightning, -memories of my childhood, youth, and riper years, long since forgotten, disobedience to my parents, unkindness to my brothers and sisters, sins against my Heavenly Father, ingratitude to my Saviour, my

low and sordid aims, my pride in my moral character, my ambition for the future, all ended now! I even thought of my graduation, of the fond hopes of my mother that I should acquit myself in an honorable manner. I thought of her disappointment as she heard the heavy tidings of my untimely death, and knew that the nice suit of clothes prepared for that occasion by her own hand, with so many tender memories of her boy, would be returned to her unused. I thought of life, which was over for me; of death, judgement, and eternity, to which I was hastening. I tried to lay hold of Christ as an all-sufficient Saviour. Then consciousness left me."

Vigorous measures and long-continued efforts were necessary in order to restore life in the drowning man. He always adverted the circumstance with the deepest gratitude that he was not then taken from the world while yet unreconciled to God.

During most of his college course he alternately believed and doubted the doctrines of grace. To quote in his own words: "My heart often rose in rebellion against the divine requirements, especially those which commanded me to renounce every method of salvation except through a crucified Saviour. My mind," he says, "is like the troubled sea, tossed about on the waves of speculation and doubt." "Through all this dark period," he says, "the Lord Jesus Christ was my ideal of virtue. Whether he be a man, angel, or God, there is something in the character of

Jesus Christ which attracts and warms the soul. I had rather follow him, or be like him, than to excel the most illustrious name in the history of the world."

In regard to his conversation:-

"No experimental means were tried upon him; no excited assembly operated upon his mind and heart, but in the anguish of his spirit he knelt down, and clasping his Bible, he raised it over him, as did John Huss, and cried, 'O God, my Lord, and master of my life.' Henceforth Christ was to him all in all; the beginning, the middle, and the end of his theology and his life." *

He was graduated in 1796, bearing with him the first awards of scholarship. At commencement he had the highest appointment, and delivered an oration on the subject, "Envy wishes, then believes," which was received with great applause.

Three years later he took his second degree, when, as before, the first oration was assigned him. Both these productions were published, and are still preserved in the archives of the library in Cambridge. A popular newspaper of the time, called the Columbia Centinel, thus speaks of the latter oration:-

"The best performance of the day was the oration on Atheism

* History of the Essex North Association.

by Rev Mr. Woods. In this half-hour sketch, the existence and attributes of a Supreme Intelligence were demonstrated by invincible argument, and displayed with dignified eloquence. His remarks were pointed, but they were not severe; his precepts pious, but liberal, and his eloquence dignified and energetic, but not boisterous. In short, he was a champion in the cause of his Redeemer and country. He received the liberal plaudits of a grateful auditory."

At this period, writes one who knew him well: "Mr. Woods was six feet two inches in height, perfectly erect and well proportioned, and possessed a dignity and grace of manner which impressed every one in his favor. His black hair, which curled slightly, was worn long, according to the fashion of the times. His pleasant, earnest, blue eyes, his animated countenance, and his exquisite teeth, which to his dying day never made acquaintance with a dentist, were a letter of recommendation to him wherever he went. In disposition, he united the strength of his father's character with the sweet, loving trusting nature of his mother."

Through the kindness of some of his classmates, I have been able to add to the reports I have received of the college records, in regard to my father's course in Harvard. From Dr. James Kendall, of Plymouth, Mass., I copy the following letter, which will explain itself:-

MRS. LEONARD WOODS:

Dear Madame, - Please excuse the liberty I have taken, with only a transient acquaintance, to intrude upon the sacredness of domestic bereavement, with a view to express my sympathy and condolence with you in the recent departure of your revered and beloved husband. My apology, if an apology be necessary, is my long and intimate aquaintance with Dr. Woods, commencing more than sixty years ago; an acquaintance of uninterrupted satisfaction and pleasure, and an intercourse, so far as I know, of unbroken harmony.

Although our theological inquiries and associations may have led to something of different results, yet as respects the spirit and character necessary to fit us for the acceptance with the Father, and an intercourse with the spirits of the just, I am confident there was no difference.

It is among my most pleasant memories to look back upon an acquaintance which commenced when we were candidates for admission to Harvard University in 1792, without recollecting a single instance of unkind feeling, or an unfriendly utterance between us. No two scholars in the class were more intimate than we were, and, if we take the opinion of the College Government at the time for a standard, no two ranked higher; that

is to say, the two English orations, the highest parts given out at our commencement, were assigned to Dr. Woods and myself.

I well remember the gratification I felt in being thought worthy, as a scholar, of holding rank second to him. I mention this incident merely to show that our relative position as scholars awakened no unpleasant rivalry, nor interrupted for a moment the harmony and mutual kindness between us; and I will add in this connection that I have no recollection, during our collegiate course, of a single act of his life, or a single utterance of his lips, that he or his friends would have wished to have been otherwise. This, I am aware, is saying a good deal, but if there had been anything very noticeable I should have remembered and regretted it. Our security under Providence might have been owing in part to our being a little in advance, as respects age, of most of the undergraduates; Dr. Woods having entered college in his nineteenth year, and I in my twenty-third. We both went to college for the purpose of an education, and at no time, I believe, were in much doubt as to the choice of profession. At our age, there was less tempation to join in the follies and improprieties which sometimes mark the course of an under-graduate in college. Of one thing I am quite sure, for I have a distinct recollection of the fact, that neither of us was subjected to fine, to admonition, or the slightest reproof, even, for delinquency in our college studies, or disregard

of the rules and requirements during our connection with the university.

It may be some satisfaction and comfort, in this hour of your trial, to have this testimony of an intimate friend and classmate to the purity and correctness of your beloved husband's character during this interesting period of his early life. Of his character, fidelity, and labors as a Christian minister and theological professor during the last half-century, you need not the testimony of a personal friend. You are compassed about by a cloud of witnesses, who are ready to testify to his fidelity and successful labors in the service of the Master.

Soon after his graduation, he went to Medford, Mass., where he had accepted an invitation to teach, hoping in this manner to earn funds sufficient to carry him through his professional studies. He remained in Medford till August, 1797, when he went to Princeton.

At his mother's knee he had earned the answer to his question, "What is the chief end of man?" "To glorify God, and to enjoy him forever." How shall I best glorify God? was the question which was now ever present to his ardent mind. His Heavenly Father did not long leave him in doubt concerning his will. In an affecting interview with his parents, he announced to them the new hopes which animated his breast, and the earnest desires he experienced to devote himself to the work of preaching the gospel of

salvation to his fellow-men, receiving their cordial approbation and their prayers for his success.

He repaired to Somers, Conn., and placed himself under the care of Dr. Charles Backus. This gentleman was an eminent divine, whose reputation as a teacher drew about him some of the most prominent students in New England.

The three months passed in Somers were most happy ones, always referred to with a kindling eye, as among the most profitable of his life.