the Catholic religion as the religion of the state, the introCuction of the civil law in place of the common law, and the general exclusion of the English nobility and gentry from offices of power and profit; an exclusion, which the English government itself, since the year 1688, has enforced towards the Catholic families, among which are some of the oldest and richest in the kingdom. Whereas, should the Turks prevail in the present contest, an amalgamation of victor and vanquished would be as impracticable now, as when Greece was first conquered by the Ottoman power. The possession of the country has been promised to the Bey of Egypt, as the reward of his services in effecting its conquest. The men-at-arms have already been doomed to military execution of the most cruel kind, and the women and children would be sold into Asiatic and African bondage.

We are not left to collect this merely from the known maxims of Turkish warfare, nor the menaces which have repeatedly been made by the Porte, but we see it exemplified in the island of Scio. On the soil of Greece, thus swept of its present population, will be settled the Egyptian and Turkish troops, by whom it shall have been subdued. Thus will have been cut off, obliterated from the map of Europe, and annihilated by the operation of whatever is most barbarous and terrific in the military practice of the Turkish government, an entire people; one of those distinct social families, into which Providence collects the sons of men. In them will perish the descendants of ancestors, toward whom we all profess a reverence; who carry, in the language they speak, the proof of their national identity. In them will be exterminated a people apt and predisposed for all the improvements of civilized life; a people connected with the rest of Europe by every moral and intellectual association, and capable of being reared up into a prosperous and cultivated state. Finally; in them will perish one whole Christian people; and that the first that embraced Christianity; churches actually founded by the apostles in person, churches, for whose direct instruction a considerable part of the New Testament was composed, after abiding all the storms of eighteen centuries, and surviving so many vicissitudes, are now at length to be

razed; and, in the place of all this, an uncivilized Ma hometan horde is to be established upon the ruins. We say it is a most momentous alternative. Interest humani generis. The character of the age is concerned. The inpending evil is tremendous. To preserve the faith of certain old treaties, concluded we forget when, the parlia ment of England decides by acclamation to send an army into Portugal and Spain, because Spain has patronised the disaffection of the Portuguese ultra-royalists. To prevent a change in the governments of Piedmont, Naples and Spain, Austria and France invade those countries with large armies. Can those great powers look tamely on, and see the ruin of their Christian brethren consummated in Greece? Is there a faded parchment in the diplomatic archives of London or Lisbon, that binds the English government more imperiously than the great original obligation to rescue an entire Christian people from the cimeter? Can statesmen, who profess to be, who are, influenced by the rules of a chaste and lofty public morality, justify their sanguinary wars with Ashantees and Burmans, and find reasons of duty for shaking the petty thrones of the interior of Africa, and allow an African satrap to strew the plains of Attica with bloody ashes?

If they can, and if they will, then let the friends of liberty, humanity, and religion, take up this cause, as one that concerns them, all and each, in his capacity as a Christian and a man. Let them make strong the public sentiment on this subject, and it will prevail. Let them remember what ere now has been done, by the perseverance and resolution of small societies, and even individual men. Let them remember how small a company of adventurers, unpatronised, scarcely tolerated by their government, succeeded in laying the foundations of this our happy country beyond a mighty ocean. Let them recollect, that it was one fixed impression, cherished and pursued in the heart of an humble and friendless mariner, through long years of fruitless solicitation and fainting hope, to which it is owing, that these vast American continents are made a part of the heritage of civilized man. Let them recollect that, in the same generation, one poor monk dismembered the great ecclesiastical empire of Europe. Let them bear

in mind, that it was a hermit who roused the nations of Europe in mass, to engage in an expedition against the common enemy of Chistendom; an expedition, wild indeed, and unjustifiable, according to our better lights, but lawful and meritorious in those who embarked in it. Let them, in a word, never forget, that when, on those lovely islands and once happy shores, over which a dark cloud of destruction now hangs, the foundations of the Christian church were first laid, it was by the hands of private, obscure and persecuted individuals. It was the people, the humblest of the people, that took up the Gospel, in defiance of all the patronage, the power, and the laws of the government. Why should not Christianity be sustained in the same country, and by the same means by which it was originally established? If, as we believe, it is the strong and decided sentiment of the civilized world, that the cause of the Greeks is a good cause, and that they ought not to be allowed to perish, it cannot be that this sentiment will remain inoperative. The very existence of this sentiment is a tower of strength. It will make itself felt by a thousand manifestations. It will be heard in our senates and our pulpits; it will be echoed from our firesides. Does any one doubt the cause of America was mightily strengthened and animated by the voices of the friends of liberty in the British parliament? Were not the speeches of Chatham and Burke worth a triumphant battle to our fathers? And can any one doubt that the Grecian patriots will hold out, so long as the Christian world will cheer them with its sanction?

Let, then, the public mind be disabused of the prejudices which mislead it on this question. Let it not be operated upon by tales of piracies at sea, and factions on land; evils, which belong not to Greeks, but to human nature. Le' the means of propagating authentic intelligence of the progress of the revolution be multiplied. Let its well-wishers and its well-hopers declare themselves in the cause. Let the tide of pious and Christian charity be turned into this broad and thirsty channel. Let every ardent and highspirited young man, who has an independent subsistence of two or three hundred dollars a year, embark personally in the cause, and aspire to that crown of glory, never yet

worn except by him who so lately triumphed in the hearts of the entire millions of Americans. Let this be done, and Greece is safe.

Death of Josiah Quincy, Jun.-J. QUINCY.

AFTER being five weeks at sea, the wished-for shore yet at a distance, he became convinced that his fate was inevitable, and prepared to submit himself to the will of Heaven with heroic calmness and Christian resignation. Under the pressure of disease, and amidst the daily sinking of nature, his friends, his family, and, above all, his country, predominated in his affections. He repeatedly said to the seaman on whose attentions he was chiefly dependant, that he had but one desire and one prayer, which was, that he might live long enough to have an interview with Samuel Adams or Joseph Warren ;-that granted, he should die content. This wish of the patriot's heart, Heaven, in its inscrutable wisdom, did not grant.

As he drew towards his native shore, the crisis he had so long foreseen arrived. The battle of Lexington was fought. According to his predictions, "his countrymen sealed their faith and constancy to their liberties with their blood," But he lived not to hear the event of that glorious day.

While yet the ship was three days' sail from land, exhausted by disease, and perceiving his last hour approach, he called the seaman to the side of his birth, and, being himself too weak to write, dictated to him a letter full of the most interesting and affecting communications to his family and nearest friends. This letter still exists among his papers, in the rude hand-writing of an illiterate ailor.

Such is the last notice of the close of the life of Josiah Quincy, Jun. On the 26th of April, 1775, within sight of that beloved country, which he was not permitted to reach; neither supported by the kindness of friendship, nor cheered by the voice of affection, he expired;-not, indeed, as

a few weeks afterwards did his friend and co-patriot Warren, in battle, on a field ever-memorable and glorious; but in solitude, amidst suffering, without associate and without witness; yet breathing forth a dying sigh for his country, desiring to live only to perform towards her a last and signal service

A few hours after his death, the ship, with his lifeless remains, entered the harbour of Gloucester, Cape Ann.

His arrival had been anticipated with anxious solicitude, and the intelligence of his death was received with an universal sorrow. By his family and immediate friends, the event was mourned as the extinction of their brightest hope. His contemporaries, faithful to his virtues, and deeply sensible of his services, early associated his name with those most honoured and most beloved of the period in which he lived. It was his lot to compress events and exertions sufficient for a long life within the compass of a few short years. To live forever in the hearts of his countrymen, and, by labour and virtue, to become immortal in the memory of future times, were the strong passions of his soul. That he was prohibited from filling the great sphere of usefulness, for which his intellectual powers seemed adapted and destined, is less a subject of regret, than it is of joy and gratitude that he was permitted, in so short a time, to perform so noble a part, and that to his desire has been granted so large a portion of that imperishable meed, which, beyond all earthly reward, was the object of his search and solicitude.

Danger of Delay in Religion.-BUCKMINSTER

Ir has been most acutely and justly observed, that all - resolutions to repent at a future time are necessarily in sincere, and must be a mere deception; because they im ply a preference of a man's present habits and conduct, they imply, that he is really unwilling to change them, and that nothing but necessity would lead him to make any attempt of the kind. But let us suppose the expected leisure for repentance to have arrived; the avaricious or