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Napoleon, when he saw his ranks becoming thin, grasped the standard in his own hand, rushed forward; leaping over bodies of the slain like a spirit of the storm till the victory was his. Thus have arisen to excellence multitudes with whom the Fates loved to war. So there are moments in the lives of all when a word, a resolve, or a single step seems to be a pivot upon which their whole destiny turns either for weal or woe; and that moment with you; Cousin Will, is now. During the late war a British battery, stationed upon a hill, considerably annoyed our troops; "Can you storm that battery?" said General Ripley to Colonel Miller. "I will try, Sir," was the laconic answer. Now, only rise and arm your most lofty aspirations with Colonel Miller's weapon, and victory is yours. The world is the great drama upon which each individual is to act his part with honor or infamy, as he will himself choose; but there is a fame which will last when the skies of worldly glory are darkened, and her scrolls have gone to decay; upon her pure escutcheon are written the "names of those whom the love of God has blest;" whose hands have helped to plant the great standard of reform, and the amelioration of mankind; who have added their vial to the river whose waters flow for the healing of the nations. Continue in the paths of virtue, daily adding to your stores of knowledge from those. valuable receptacles of the wisdom of all ages -- books. Seek to shine like some of the jewels which decorate the temple of our freedom, and leave your name with those to whose memory rock-hewn monuments are but mockery. Try to be great in the spirit of God, like John Wesley, John Newton, and our Edwards, the vein of whose eloquence flowed only to fertilize the desolation of the human heart.

The most powerful imagination, is that which embodies truth in living characters; and the most imperishable fame is the memory of him who made the world better by living in it.

Union College, Schenectady, June 26th, 1849.

MY GOOD FRIEND MR. D.: -- You are such a devotee to science and literature, or, in other words, such a devourer of books, or any thing in the way of intelligence, it seems fitting I should write to you while at one of the finest seats of learning in our State, and at the feet of one greater than Gamaliel.

Dr. Nott, you are aware, has been forty-five years President of this Institution. He passed, yesterday, his seventy-sixth birth-day, apparently in possession of as many physical and mental energies as are ordinarily the companions of men of half his years -- hearing his classes, attending to all the calls of his students, listening to and correcting their rhetorical exercises, preparatory to the coming commencement.

In the morning, while the Doctor was reading the papers, a committee of the senior class waited upon him, requesting permission to have a general college celebration of his birthday. At this the good sage seemed much surprised, and asked, "How in the world did you learn that? Really, I did not know it myself; but if it be so, boys, that I am another year older, and you wish to celebrate it, you must do it in the way I am going to -- work with all your might." "But," said they, "we would like to illuminate the college." "Illuminate the college!" said he, "why what an idea! such a thing was never done." "Why yes," said the students, "the first year you came here it was illuminated." "Not hardly," said the doctor, "for if I remember rightly, we had no college to illuminate." "But," said they, "they hung the lamps in the trees, which meant the same thing." So the dialogue went on, and at last terminated by the Doctor's consenting to let the senior class come to his house in the evening, for an informal levee, specifying that they should all go home precisely at ten o'clock. The older I grow, the more I see how averse the learned and sensible always are to anything like show or ostentation. During the day many old and tried friends called upon the Doctor and his lady, and offered their congratulations that another year had been added to his long and useful life; hoping that he would be spared to them many more. Many presents were sent in, among them a beautiful bouquet to Mrs. Nott, and to the Doctor a large ripe orange of domestic growth, with stem and leaves still attached. Mc---, who you know is figuring so largely as a statesman, sent by express, an engraving of himself, large as life, and elegantly framed, accompanied by a note. While Mrs. Nott and Professor Potter were selecting the most appropriate place for hanging it, the Doctor says, "I have it, hang him in the college library, where he should have been himself long ago. But a fine fellow that Mc--- and he knows a pretty good deal too, notwithstanding."

The professors and their ladies, the tutors and other officers of the college, were present at the party, and altogether the evening passed both profitably and pleasantly. The Doctor was in fine spirits, entertaining the groups who thronged about him; with vivid delineations of the master-spirits of the last generation, with most of whom he was intimate. Some one asked him whether he thought Hamilton or Webster the greater man? He replied, Hamilton, for Webster has lived to do much since Hamilton died; and besides, the greatest efforts of Hamilton have never been published.