What the hand of chance first so well erected, the hand of skill and of good taste soon admirably adapted. Beauty, neatness, comfort, threw their enchanting influences over the spot and left nothing to be desired.

In this Institution, so admirably adapted to its object, Dr. Macdonald now seemed permanently established. No one could doubt its success, and a long career of usefulness seemed promised to the auspicious enterprise. But such was not the decree of Providence.

The symptoms of an ordinary bronchitics had attended Dr. Macdonald during the month of April last, but his general health was not affected, and his spirits were excellent. On the morning of the first of May he was suddenly attacked by a chill, which was soon

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followed by symploms of pleuritis. No alarm was fell for his situation until the third day, when he was visited by Dr. Buck, and on the succeeding day by Dr. Johnston. On the fourth day, his physicians thought him free from danger, but on the following day, the symptoms again assumed an unfavorable aspect. Dr. Macdonald himself expressed the opinion, with gentle firmness, to his wife, that he should not recover. He said that, but for her sake and that of his children, he would choose death rather than life, -- that he was resigned to either event, having long endeavored to keep the idea of his death constantly in view. He enjoined upon his wife a religious education for his children, and begged her to cherish in their hearts the thought of their father. On the following day mental hallucinations, which had been occasionally present in slight degree, became more decided, and he, who had so often combated them in others, now felt their influence. Death was evidently near at hand.