seeing all our mutual friends coming home to God, and be coming happier in body, mind, and estate than ourselves.

TO THE REV. ABEL STEVENS, BOSTON.

Salem, January 7, 1836.

I am very sorry, my dear brother, to hear of your indisposition, but cannot say I am surprised. I really think you labour too arduously; the subjects on which you preach are of the most exciting nature, and calculated to call into vigorous exercise all the faculties of the mind; you speak of them at length, and thus protract a mental excitement which must necessarily prostrate all your physical powers. Indeed, it seems to me that every young man must now pursue such a course to some extent, if he would be greatly instrumental in the hands of God of building up the cause of Christ. The age of cool, dispassionate preaching, has passed away, and an age of excitement has succeeded. Solemn and important truths, unless treated in a bold and imposing manner, produce but little effect on the hearts of men. Many there are who will even sleep when the great tragedy of eternity is rehearsed before them, unless they can almost behold the manifestations of the wrath of God. They will smile when beholding the scene on Calvary, unless he who exhibits it shows an intensity of feeling with which they cannot trifle. They will deliberately ridicule descriptions of future blessedness, unless there be something in them which almost irresistibly arrests their attention; and this something must be the result of a lively, but holy imagination, and a deeply feeling heart. Does not your own observation confirm these statements? If so, there is an absolute necessity of natural talent, thorough mental discipline, and ardent piety in all who fight the battles of the Lord; there is need also of continued effort, constant and deep thought, and daily increasing zeal and piety. And

what more is necessary, dear brother, to break down these feeble bodies, especially when the demand for such labour will not allow us the requisite rest? He who thus labours ought to lay aside, for a time at least, his mental faculties, and vegetate, if he would secure long life.

1 I wish more of our ministers would realize the demands of the age, and resolve to supply them. O that they would lay aside for ever their skeleton books, and their volumes of printed sermons, and devote their time to deep and patient thought; that they would use commentaries less, and their own brains more! Our congregations would not then so frequently anticipate their preachers in the division of their subjects; there would then be more originality; we should hear "thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." The desk would then assume as elevated a station as it held when Paul preached at Athens; men would hang upon the ministrations of the pulpit, and drink in the words of eternal life; and Zion would appear to her enemies, "terrible as an army with banners." But that glorious day has not yet arrived; God grant it may speedily come. Will it come, however, till we shall awake to the emergencies of the times? till we shall be willing to devote our all to the work, and "come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty ?" Yet after all we must be as careful of our health as possible. I know of but one course to take when we preach, to do it with all our might, but not to preach too frequently. 'Tis better to preach one warm, well-digested sermon, than a dozen cold" milk and water" ones. Let me then beg you, my dear brother, not to preach too frequently. Bishop Hedding and brother Otheman have instructed me on no occasion to preach more than twice a day, and I have always obeyed.

I rejoice very much, dear brother, in your success in the ministry, and in the recent outpouring of the Spirit

upon yourself and church. It must surely greatly encourage and quicken ministers to see the Lord blessing their humble efforts. In this respect you have been highly favoured. I once thought I might be proud should God make me instrumental in the conversion of many souls, but my views of late have been changed; nothing, I believe, would more tend to humble me. God has blessed my efforts here in the conversion of a few souls; seven or eight have been hopefully converted, and some are now serious; still there is great need of a revival. The long and harassing difficulties with which this church. has been perplexed have been to her enemies an occasion of reproach, and to her own members (apparently at least) a curse. Whether the day of her deliverance will ever come, God only knows; but if it come at all, we may reasonably believe it hath already dawned upon her. Her night hath been long and dubious-may her day be bright and glorious! If in any place on earth we may learn the sad, sad effects of lukewarmness and disunion, we may learn them in the church in Salem. Would to God she might profit by bitter experience! If we would behold the folly of building chapels before prospects warrant it, and of a settled ministry in a travelling connection, we need only look at Salem. Let us not, however, indulge in censures, but rather learn how we may avoid such difficulties. Happy shall we be if, warned by others, we ourselves are not betrayed into similar errors.

I cannot, dear Stevens, speak of religious enjoyments as great as yours, but can say that I believe I am advancing in piety. I feel more and more my own sinfulness, the willingness of God to bless me abundantly, and the preciousness of religion. I want to be the Lord's in life and in death. I have satisfied myself that ambition does not prompt me to effort, and that my motives are such as God approves. The work of the ministry ap

pears desirable, though arduous and awfully responsible. I am resolved to be more holy, and to labour after a full conformity to the mind of Christ. Still pray for me and the people of my charge, that " Holiness to the Lord" may be inscribed upon us.

TO HIS BROTHER.

Salem, January 12, 1836. Your details were all very interesting, though they forcibly reminded me of that "bad way you have with you," viz., imprudence; why, my dear brother, will you so often suffer yourself to be led thoughtlessly on to the hazard of colds, and, by consequence, sickness? Recollect that striking sentence quoted in the "Diary of a Physician:""A slight cold"-" omnium prope quibus affligimur morborum origo et quasi semen." Your colds are peculiarly to be feared, for they speak the language of death—early, premature death; they utter their solemn warnings in the hollow, prophetic cough! They point us, your dear friends at home, to the turf which covers the cold, mouldering remains of a once lovely and beloved Mary! They point significantly too, and sometimes almost succeed in telling us, that we may soon be called to mark the lonely resting-place of another, and almost the last branch of our bereaved family. And O! dear brother, a melancholy reflection it is which now rests heavily on my mind, and which I hardly dare express. The thought of these death-like coughs sometimes causes us to fear that we may go to our grave-yard in vain to search after the relics of Elijah, for they may turn to dust in "foreign parts." Let not any, even the slightest imprudence, make your resting-place the stranger's grave, to which our affection may never bring the simple but touching tribute of tears! Whenever you are tempted to be incautious, think of your friends! Dear brother, regard

our love, and let it speak through every whistling wind, every gentle rain; let it show itself in the clouds of noonday, and in the vapours of twilight. You may, by the use of those means which Providence has afforded you, by prudence and the blessing of God, be again restored to perfect health. For this you hardly need be assured we

all daily pray. But if the boon be in mercy denied us and you, still we would receive an answer to our further petition a petition which affection for you, as well as regard for ourselves, prompts us to offer the Father of mercies-" May you die among your kindred!" There is in this case, brother, another agency between us and God it is your carefulness. We appeal, then, with great propriety to you, and ask, in the language of affection, Will that agency be propitious? We know your answer; for there is a cord which binds together kindred souls, and which vibrates to all their feelings.

We were very glad to hear of your kind reception among the Methodists at the south; it must be a great source of comfort to you, while exiled from the dear ones. of home, to find kind and warm friends in the stoppingplaces of your pilgrimage :—

"The thread of your life would be dark, Heaven knows,
Were it not for friendship and love intertwined."

May friends multiply around you in every step of your wanderings; and may the flowing streams of gratitude, as they gush forth from the deep fountains of your heart, but add fresh life to all their kindness! How is it, brother, do strangers share in "Christmas gifts?" I sometimes wish that I were rich, that I might experience the happiness of conferring favours: and

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd;

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes."