assembly. At the close of the sermon, an unexpected influence came down upon the people. But instead of two or three persons manifesting a desire for salvation, the entire congregation seemed to be moved at once, like a forest bending beneath a heavy gale. There was very little noise; no shouting or screaming; but many tears and sighs among the multitudes; and strong men bowing themselves, in penitential sorrow, before the Lord God of hosts, with earnest prayer; but evidently restraining the deep emotions which agitated their souls. When an invitation was given to penitents, and they were exhorted to come forward for the prayers of God's people, the aisles were speedily filled, all crowding toward the communion rails; rich and poor were seen mingling together. I cannot enter into all the particulars; but it was supposed, that within the short space of four weeks, four hundred sinners were converted to God. That city, several times since, has been visited with revivals of religion. In the year 1827, there was a visitation of this kind, which resulted in the conversion of two hundred souls; and again, in 1841, two hundred found peace with God. I had the delightful privilege of being present during these three revivals. In all these outpourings of the Holy Spirit, that noble and blessed people, with their ministers, local preachers, and class leaders, entered into the work with an ardour that did them credit, while it showed how highly they estimated each previous revival.

In a certain part of America, surrounded with woods, a minister of Jesus was preaching the gospel to a listening crowd. A stranger, on horse-back, proceeding through the forest, hearing the sound of a human voice, paused; and then, through curiosity, approached sufficiently near to hear the truth delivered by the earnest preacher; but did not alight. What

he heard, it seems, made no impression upon his mind at the time, and he continued his journey. As he rode along, he began to reflect upon the importance of the truth he had just been hearing. The Spirit of God accompanied his meditations in so forcible a manner to his conscience, that he fell from his horse, as one dead. How long he lay upon the ground, he could not tell; but, upon coming to his senses, he perceived that a surprizing change had taken place in his mind. Love, peace, and sweet communion with God, had taken possession of his heart; he was a new creature in Christ Jesus. Upon looking round for his horse, it was gone, and had carried off his portmanteau, in which was all his money, etc. Returning upon his track, he found the animal entangled by the bridle in a brake, and all his property safe. He remounted, and proceeded on his way rejoicing. When he arrived at a certain town, (a place, by the way, notorious for wickedness,) he began to proclaim what great things God had done for his soul. The people were astounded, and considered the man insane, and were about to confine him. He told them, with heaven beaming in his countenance, that he had never been in the right exercise of his reason till a few hours before; but that now, he was in his right mind, and very happy in God; and that they need not give themselves any uneasiness about him. He then related the circumstances of his conversion, and exhorted them to flee from the wrath to come. The power of God attended his exhortations; and many gave heed to the things spoken by the stranger; a revival began from that day, and a great number of people were the saved of the Lord.

The particulars connected with the above revival, may serve as a further answer to the question, "Do all revivals begin in the same way?" Had I time, I

could bring forward many other remarkable revivals,
resulting in the conversion of hundreds of sinners, yet
all differing in the "phenomena" of their beginnings.
I cannot, however, conclude, without referring to your
particular views"_upon such matters. If you are
for calms by sea, I am for storms. That you have
also "
seen some lovely scenes by rivers' brink, or
sunny dell; in waving woods and groves, watered by
crystal rills;" and that you, and many others, have
felt the power of God there, and rejoiced in the
evidences of his goodness, amidst these scenes of
tranquil loveliness, I wish not to question; for I
have felt the same, a thousand times, myself. Nor
shall I dispute that you have had your "intellectual
feasts," and some rich foretastes of heaven, when
listening to your favourite minister. You describe
sea scenery very well; with all its "constant sym-
pathies with yonder sky; crisped smiles, luxuriant
heavings, and sweet whisperings!"

"Hail, splendid picture! molten print!
Medal of majesty divine!

Coinage of heaven's illustrious mint;
Perpetual currency is thine.

And why hath Jehovah, in forming the world,
With waters divided the land?

His rampart of rocks round a continent hurl'd,
And cradled the deep in his hand ?"

But why did you not add that other verse :—

"What can thy angry strength restrain?
Deep, rolling, huge, circumfluous form;
Swinging in gravitation's chain,

Boiling and foaming in the storm!"

I doubt whether you have ever been out of sight of land, to say nothing of witnessing the effects of a storm at sea, on the minds of sinners; as much as I doubt your theory, that " such exhibitions of elemental

wrath" are incapable of making those religious impressions that are lasting, and which "tend directly to the conversion of the soul." I question whether you have, in the course of your life, been able, from close observation, to philosophise upon such a scene ; as I doubt whether, until very lately, you have seen the "elements of terror," within the grasp of every minister of God, wielded as they should be for the awakening and conversion of sinners. But I can testify, from actual observation, that conversions, by what you term "the artillery of terror," whether elementary, or by the powerful voice of a living ministry, have been as real and as lasting as those which have occurred amidst the calm of nature, or when the soft persuasive arguments of the Sabbath sermon have won sinners to Christ; while they illustrated, at the same time, that fine couplet of an elegant poet,

"Fit words attend on weighty sense,

And mild persuasion flows in eloquence."

You have had your poetic excursion; now allow me mine. I think it most prudent, however, to keep within the territories of " nimble prose.' When the might of the tempest is let loose upon the ocean, and its surface is boiling into foam; when its waters are being scooped to the deepest abyss, and the billows are heaped to the clouds,-" confounding the deep, perplexing the sky;" when the reeling vessel is tossing to and fro, or hanging in straining suspense upon the billowy precipice, and again descending, like an arrow, into the yawning gulf; when the sails are rent from the spars, and the waves have obtained a clear passage over the deck, and the masts are shivered from the labouring hull, as if shattered by a thunderbolt from heaven,-behold the terrified crew and passengers. They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths; their souls are melted,

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because of trouble;" trouble in the conscience, as well as trouble from the raging elements. But the sense of discomfort from without may have become more bearable, than that which is felt within. The fiercest uproar of the angry storm, may not equal at this time the alarming accents of an awakened conscience. The inflictions of that vicegerent of God within, may strip and wreck the soul, with more unfailing certainty, than the repeated onsets of the howling tempest, which have left the ship sailless and mastless. The impending death of the body; its descent into the wide, insatiable, and unsearchable grave of the sea, and the close con tact with the monsters of the deep, staring through the troubled foam at this fresh cargo of humanity, slowly descending to the profoundest floors of this dreary cemetery,-ocean's shambles; where monsters indescribable, which never seek the upper waters, are fed with ample supplies of human beings, driven from the regions afar;-alas! all this may not be so horrible to the soul, at such an hour, as the appalling probability of dying in sin; and of a descent into the blackness of darkness; an exchange of a deluge of water, for one of fire and pain; a downward progress into the pit that is bottomless; a dismal and immediate fellowship with the monsters of hell, the vilest beings that ever walked our planet; and a dreadful acquaintanceship with infuriated devils; a full knowledge of the torments of the damned, from personal experience; an identical conjunction with the "worm that never dies;" and a sensible immersion into the "fire that never shall be quenched." In a word, the foaming billows, "Running mountains high," which encompass them on every side, menacing every moment their removal from the wave-washed deck, may present no aspect of terror, compared with the waves of damnation, descried by the eye of faith.

Behold the horrors of the wreck! Imagine the