ideas of the great redemption arise in my mind, those of Relly and Murray are inseparable therefrom, as the mediums through which sublime truth beamed upon my soul. I am desirous of anticipating that adult age, you so beautifully describe, when knowledge shall be conveyed, not by the obstructed tongue, or tardy pen, but by intuition. But, my dear sir, you must wait till that expected day, before I can tell you how much I esteem, how much I love you. Among a number of things you have taught me, I reckon it not the least, that the disposal of human affairs is in the direction of a Being, whose operations will always produce the best consequences. I, however, find it difficult to suppress the indignation I feel at the treatment you receive. What shall cure these distempered minds? what shall compose the tumult of their frenzy, or rouse their feverish repose? not the skill of an Isaiah, nor the prayers of a Paul; nothing short of the prescription of the grand Physician, who is the Healer of Nations, and the application of that tree, whose leaf is for medicine. My wishes for you in this case are vain; but I can never appreciate the aspirations of my heart; not that you may be exempt from the conflict, but that you may conquer, and you will conquer; your reward is above, secure from the rage of impotent man, and the invasion of the grand adversary of human nature.'

"To be possessed of your confidence and friendship, would be flattering to me in the highest degree. My wishes are to deserve both. You do indeed appear to me a chosen one, an elect soul. Call these expressions extravagant, if you please, but they are as far short of what I feel, as language is inadequate to the expressions of the refined taste of the mind.'

'Among the almost innumerable systems, respecting our nature, being, and our end, in which the world has been so perplexed, and have exposed themselves so variously, none claims so fair a title to truth as the one you promulgate. But the world have not so liberally attributed goodness to Deity. Our benignant religion developes the goodness of God in the enlightening sun, the fructifying rain, the cheering wine, and the nutritious bread. In short, in a thousand million examples, with which nature so liberally abounds. Indeed we should seldom be unhappy, did we more constantly realize the presence of a redeeming God. I admire the candor of your mind, which is ever stepping forth, as the advocate of your friends, although I may occasionally drop from that stand in your friendship which it would be my pride to maintain; it is a persuasion, which I can never relinquish, that the wanderings of my heart may be reclaimed in an instant. Your letters are under my pillow; I bind them to me as phylacteries, and I attentively watch for a moment of leisure to acknowledge them. Murray, should you pass out of time before me, I should experience some exquisitely painful sensations. O! may you be for a long time to come, invulnerable to the shafts of disease: yet why should I wish to turn the dart that will give you passport to a life of bliss and immortality! You

who agonize at the present state of existence. No, let me neither accelerate nor retard, even by a wish, that period of humanity, but invoke our common Father that we may be strengthened by the way, and with faith and patience quietly wait the expected release.' Your letter, my dear Murray, is like a great magazine, full of instruction and entertainment. Were 1 to attempt to give it due and just consideration, I should write a volume, and probably not succeed at last. You say, and I believe it, that we shall be built up again upon a superior principle. The world is so involved in the wicked one, that I am really glad to find any one willing to allow the goodness of God in any view; it is at least one step toward a just way of thinking. I pray you to be content with your present standing; you are too infirm to visit far from home; where you speak, you are heard by many strangers, who enter your Capital, whom you know not, but who hear and know you; so I think your station is clearly pointed out, to which you do well to adhere. I regret exceedingly, that I cannot attend your expositions of the ceremonial law, in which I understand your are engaged. Those laws are a deep and rich mine of instruction. The Scriptures are ONE, like a great EPIC; their action is ONE, the REESTORATION of a LOST NATURE. The subordinate parts evidently point to the great HEAD and captain of our salvation. Go on, my dear sir, and may you be the means of bringing many sons to glory. Allow me to say, you ought to write more frequently; your diligence and activity are well known to me; but it seems incumbent upon you to give the world your explanations of the sacred writings. Yes, I repeat, you would do well to bestow some portion of your time to record and elucidate many passages, which, when you are gone, may speak for you.

The event of your death, however dreaded, must be met by the greater part of your hearers; and, although they may have remaining to them the sacred writings, yet you are aware that a preacher is necessary. I have compared you to some of the general elements of life, whose good and salubrious existences are not known until they are lost. I consider you employed in removing the scales from the darkened eye, fortifying the timid mind against the approaching dissolution of nature, securing it from the blandishments of delusion, and leading it to arm against the terrors of calamity and pain. I myself am indebted to you in hundreds of instances for light, and most important information. I need not repeat my best wishes to you; they present themselves to me in full, whenever your memory occurs to me. I feel that it is hereafter, when you and I are liberated, that I shall derive a part of my happiness from the perfection of your friendship. May the least and lightest pains infest you here: this is the utmost a mortal dare wish or request.

"Yes, my dear Sir, I am now sensible of the value of existence; and the insurance of immortality has become my greatest happiness. The time was, when, to my serious moments, immortality

appeared garbed in horror: many a time have I wished I had never been born; but, blessed change, I can now perceive that light, which shined in me, even then,-although my darkness comprehend it not; but, blessed be God, my eyes are at length opened. O! may God, all-gracious, watch over you, and preserve you from every evil. The Almighty in great mercy hath loaned you to a benighted world; may the rich blessing be long continued.'

'Gratitude, dear and honored Sir, calls upon me to acknowledge my great obligations for the glorious declaration of those important truths, of which until I had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Murray, I was entirely ignorant. From that blessed era, I date the commencement of my terrestrial felicity. It is to you, as an instrument, I am indebted for a glimpse of the beautiful harmony of the sacred writings; I can now behold, with devout admiration, the great salvation promised us by the word, by the oath of Jehovah, in that holy book, which, although possessed by many, is neither understood nor valued, except by a few elected individuals. I much wish for your continued instruction; and I know you take pleasure in considering it your duty to impart your knowledge of the Redeemer to the creatures whom He hath purchased with His blood. Would it were the will of God to give you a permanent standing among the circle of my friends, who are so greatly devoted to you; then, dear Sir, would our heaven be commenced upon earth, and all would be one continued scene of uninterrupted praises and thanksgiving, for the great Redemption, wrought out by the death and sufferings of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."

Murray, how greatly you succeed, when engaged upon a theme which 1 emphatically call YOUR OWN. I love to hear you speak upon any subject; but on this, you are, I had almost said, divine; your whole soul seems engaged, when dwelling upon the Redeemer, and his love to man; nothing but the voice of the God who made you, and who hath so wonderfully endowed you, can exceed the honied accents of your heaven-inspired tongue. Do you wonder that I am daily wishing myself among the number of your hearers, your happy hearers! but how contrasted is the life of a soldier, to that of the peaceful christian, seated at the feet of Jesus.'

A respectable gentleman, writing, nearly two years since, from the city of Philadelphia, and speaking relative to the recent publication of the venerable, the now departed saint, gratefully says: "These volumes, your Letters and Sketches, are all I hoped for, wished, or expected; they are much more. I bless God, not only for the treasures of wisdom committed to his venerable servant, but also that his valuable life has been preserved to accomplish this work'; a production, which will live, and be read with ineffable delight, when the rubbish of ages shall have been consigned to oblivion.'

Should any curiosity exist respecting Mr. Murray's political sentiments, it may be sufficient to say, that he was in heart an AMERI

CAN.

AMERICA was the country of his adoption. He was decidedly and uniformly opposed to the oppression of the British ministry, and he would have embraced any upright measures to have procured redress; yet, perhaps, he would have been as well pleased, had England and America been united upon terms of equality and reciprocal benefit; nor can it be denied, that he was, indubitably, an Anti-Gallican. In our opinion, a total dereliction of country stamps miscreant upon the individual, who harbors feelings so reprehensible. England was the native country of the preacher; the virtues flourished in his bosom, among which the amor patriæ glowed with no common lustre. He frequently amused himself with writing in numbers, which, so soon as written, he generally committed to the flames. The following inartificial lines, written one hour after he received intelligence of the demise of the celebrated and meritorious Earl of Chatham, may be considered as a correct delineation of his political views and wishes.

'Swift on the car of fancy borne along,
And safely landed on my native Isle,

I join the mourning train, assembled there,
And stand unnoticed near the hallowed corse :
I mark the empty pageantry of state,

A pageantry, alas! not empty here,

For here are real signs of real wo;

All ranks, all orders, mingle in the throng;
Some raise the voice in majesty of wo:
Some silent stand as statues-pale with grief-
At sight of these, my tears more copious flow..

Hark-from yon seat a voice assails my ear,
Than music in its softest strains more sweet.
"Tis Camden! favored sage, exalted chief,
He calls his mourning country to attend,
As thus he pours the elegiac strain.

'From life's low vale where all was calm repose,
And, taught by heaven, the mind drank classic lore,
To the tumultuous scenes of busy life,

This peerless man, in hour of dread dismay,

By pitying Heaven, in mercy to our land,

Was summoned forth. He gracious heard, and came,
Hailed by Britannia's united voice;

His royal master looked benignly kind,

And bade him welcome to his arms, his heart;

For howsoe'er remote their varied spheres,

Congenial souls, 't would seem, informed them both.

No longer view'd as servant, but as friend,
In all his Sovereign's councils he had part,

Their hopes and fears, their aims and ends the same.
The Nation gave her treasures to his care,
Himself the richest TREASURE she possess'd;

LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY.

And anxious eyes from every rank were raised,
With serious awe, and steadfast hope to him;
Nor were their hopes, their expectations vain.
New life, new views, fresh vigor nerved his arm;
All that was wrong, his vigilance set right,
And, what was greater far, preserved it so.
The foes he met (for who from foes is free)
Were, to the peerless jewel of his worth,
Like toiling lapidary to the costly gem,
They made its brightness more conspicuous shine.

The fawning sycophant oft sought his smile,
But piercing eye-beams struck the caitiff blind;
The foes to virtue trembled at his nod,

While her glad sons flocked hovering round their sire.
The merchant watched his eye; the sons of art,
The swain who turns the glebe, but chiefly he
On glory bent, who ploughed the watery way,
Panting to grasp the treasures of the globe,
He carefully this pole-star still observ'd,
And safely voyaged, with this star in view.
How wild, alas! he 'll wander now 't is hid.

The secrets of all states, blest heaven-taught sage, To thy pervading eye were all unveil'd,

And every dark intrigue was known to thee.

The Gallic power trembled at thy nod,

And proud Castalia, cowering, bent to thee:

In dire suspense the awe-struck nations stood,

Nor could predict where next would burst the storm.

Lo! as he points, our castles float along,

And British thunders roll from shore to shore ;
The sooty tribes of Afric shrink appall'd,
And China's crafty sons distrust their skill.

In this great legislator's hand, our flag,
Like that fam'd wand into a serpent chang'd,
As Hebrew sages sung in days of yore,
Made every other flag obsequious bow,
And every nation own'd or felt his power.
But, while remotest lands through fear obey'd,
His grateful country serv'd with filial love,
And every son of Albion shared his care.

Nor did the British garden, blooming round
Alone engage the heavenly laborer's toil;
With watchful eye he viewed those tender shoots,
Whilome transplanted to Columbia's soil;
Those tender lambs he gently led along,
And to their plaints still bent a parent's ear.
Dear, much loved offspring of this happy Isle,
With us, sincere, ye mourn the common loss;
With us lament the father and the friend: