in their embraces." Where have you been all this time? we were afraid we should never see you any more ;" and "who, why, what, Lord help us, you look just as you used to, tell us how you have been?"-But it is easy to conceive the manner of friends, real friends, after an absence of many years, when it is once more given them to meet. It was in this mansion I had deposited all that remained to me, of a very precious friend, and this house had been ravaged by a number of licentious soldiers!" Do you not wish to see the remains of your property," said M, "the chest remains and a few letters. I have put them together as carefully as I could; will you go and examine them?" I entered the room; my spirit sunk, I stood for some time silent, as if listening to their account of the depredation made by the troops, without the ability to distinguish or methodize! At last I waved my hand for their departure, and they kindly left me to myself. I sat me down, I opened and read the first letter of sacred amity, the second, the third. But I have seen the flames kindle upon them! Yes I have seen the ashes of several hundred letters, dictated by a faithful heart, and dropping from the fingers of the kind indulgent companion of my youth, now in the abode of blessedness. I only wish I had found sufficient resolution to have performed this office years since, thus exempting those fond expressions of wedded love from the unfeeling gaze of thieves and robbers, from the eye of the profanely curious.

But they are gone; no eye can again behold them; no, not the eye of the friend to whom they were addressed. Dear, faithful shade! reproach me not. I have done violence to my feelings, that no sacrilegious eye or hand may again behold, or touch the faithful pledges of thy tender affection-the falling tear blinds me while I write. I can proceed no further.—

Blessed be God, one night more is now with the days beyond the flood. I am not well; my body and my mind are both out of tune! Merciful God! what changes have taken place since I was last here! My soul is harrowed up! Oh! this war, this desolating war! What sad havoc the dogs of war have made! But God is very gracious; he doth in very deed, "temper the weather to the shorn lamb." As many as survive, are, to my great astonishment, cheerful as before-all, except those who have lost what no change of times can restore-parents, children, husbands, and wives. It is surprising to see how fast the buildings are reared, on the very

spots where the tenements heretofore stood; not a house was left standing, but there will soon be as many buildings as before, yet alas! they will not be occupied by the same inhabitants.

My ride to this place has been very disagreeable, the heat so intense and the sand so deep, and no hospitable friend P—— in view

-dear, honoured friend, the first patron with which I was blessed in this new world, how indulgent wert thou to me, with how much benevolence didst thou cherish me, when a stranger in thy mansion, and how didst thou labour for my advancement.

Many aged persons, who were in the habit of attending my labours, have visited me. They express their honest sensibility in a variety of ways; but all are overjoyed to see me; they are solicitous to pour into my ear the story of their accumulated sufferings; they imagine they shall reap pleasure from commiseration; yet what, alas! can helpless pity do? There is, however, much pleasure in communicating our sorrows to a sympathizing friend.

I am now in the house that once belonged to the venerable P to my friend P. I am not however an occupant of the same apartment which he fitted up for my use, and directed me to consider as my own; that apartment, and the greater part of the house, is devoted to those who loved not him, and knew not me. Alas! what is this world! how often we thus exclaim, thus ask, because we imagine it is not what it should be; were it under our direction it would be better managed; but it is not, nor never will be-One thing is certain, on life there is little or no dependence-This dear man, this American "MAN OF ROSS," was suddenly snatched from the scenes of time, deprived instantly of reason, and in a few hours of life, "His soul proud science never taught to stray." But he was a gem of the first quality, and notwithstanding the crust, which from his birth enfolded him, yet by the rubs he suffered from the pebbles among which he was placed, this crust was so far broken, as to emit upon almost every occasion, the native splendour of his intellect. Had this man in early life, received the culture of nature's hand-maid, what a luminous figure he would have made! But the God of nature had stamped upon his soul the image of himself, unbounded benevolence.

I reached this place yesterday evening, the sun was just setting and as I passed through the well known fields, and saw them rich and flourishing in all the pride of nature, I felt an irrational kind of anger glow at my heart, that those fields should look so exceed

ing gay, when their master had taken an everlasting leave of every terrestrial scene. The depression upon my spirits, as I reached the house, was indescribable; I beheld one, and another, whose faces I had never before seen. An ugly mastiff growled at me as I passed; and this is the first time, said I, that I was ever growled at, in this place, by any of thy kind, but he was soon silenced by a lad, who was brought up by my friend. "Lord bless me-Is not this Mr. Murray?" Why, Matt. do you remember me? "Remember you, Sir-remember Mr. Murray-yes, indeed, Sir." This dog does not, Matt.! "But he would if he had lived in master's time; but he is a stranger." They are all strangers, Matt., are they not? "Indeed they are all, but my mistress and myself." And where is your mistress, Matt.? "I will call her, Sir." No, my good lad, not yet; what have you for my horse? "Nothing but grass." Nothing at Mr. P's but grass? "Ah! Sir, it is not now the house of Mr. P." True, true, true. Leave me, my good lad, leave me.

I walked round the house, entered every avenue, looked at my garden, it was made for me; the trees, the flowering shrubs have run wild, and the whole surface of the spot is covered with weeds. This pleased me, just so I would have it.

This is the tree planted by my own hand; how flourishing! But where is the other, planted directly opposite at the same moment, by my friend? alas! like its planter, dead! On this very spot I first saw the philanthropist-Can you assist me, Sir? "Yes, Sir." On what terms? "I receive no payment, Sir. He who gave to me did not charge me any thing; you are welcome at the same price." -Here our acquaintance commenced-but it is ended, at least in the present state. I shall see him no more on this side eternity. On this seat we sat, and here the tear of transport rolled down his furrowed cheek, when we conversed upon that redemption which is in Christ Jesus. Under that oak we have frequently sat, contemplating the shadow from the heat, the hiding place from the storm. At yonder gate he bid me farewell, and wiped his venerable eye; at yonder gate I turned, he waved his hand, "God Almighty bless you, you will come again; forget not your friend, your ancient friend." If I do, said my heart, may my right hand forget. itscunning. But I forgot thee, good old man, too long I forgot thee! and now that I am at last returned, thou art not here to bid me in the politest, that is in the sincerest manner welcome.

Mrs. P approached; she lifted up her hands and eyes in speechless anguish, seated herself, changed colour-no matter -the worst is past. I have visited the meeting-house reared by his hand for the worship of his God. It is embosomed in a grove of stately oaks, all trimmed and in beautiful order-under this shade reposeth the man, by whom the house was raised, by whom the grove was planted. I beheld his grave; it was not a marble, a hard marble that informed me whose dust lay there, it was a feeling mechanic, who, having experienced much kindness from the deceased, wept when he told me that spot contained the deadI carefully examined the grave, to see if any weeds grew thereNo, no, they had no business there. I could not pluck a noxious nettle from his grave: there grew upon it a few wild flowers, emblematic of the mind that once inhabited this insensate clay. the foot of the grave stands the most majestic and flourishing of all the oaks which surround the grave; it was once on the point of falling a sacrifice to the axeman, but my friend solicited for its continuance, pronouncing that it would flourish when he should sleep beside it, and having thus rescued it, added my informant, he has since paid it particular attention, which is the reason of its so far surpassing the other trees.

At

Peace, peace to thy spirit, thou friendly, feeling, faithful man; thy dust is laid up to rest, near the house thou didst build for God, but thy spirit rests with God in the house built by him for thee, and though our dust may not meet again, our spirits will meet and rejoice together, in those regions of blessedness, where pain can find no entrance, where death can no more usurp dominion, where no tear of sorrow shall ever dim the joy-brightened eye, for we shall part no more forever. I said there was no nettle on this grave; one thing, however, was very remarkable, a gourd had crept along, until it came to, and spread over his grave, mixing its foliage with the sweet scented flowers which grow thereon.

Never was place better calculated for melancholy musing than this spot, so thick the grove around: the little neat grave-yard at the end, the shutters of the house for public worship all closed up the lonely situation inviting the birds, their musick serves to mellow the scene; all, all, is most truly for solemn meditation fit.

By the following article in the will of my deceased friend, this house of worship becomes my property.

"The house built by me for the worship of God, it is my will that God be worshipped in it still, and for this purpose I will that my ever dear friend, Mr. John Murray, preacher of the gospel, shall possess it, having the sole direction, disposal, and mangement of said house, and one acre of land upon which it stands, and by which it is surrounded."

In this house of worship I have once more preached. It is full two years since divine service has been performed there. I selected for my subject, 1 Corinthians vi. 20: "For ye are bought with a price therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's."

I passed the morning in labouring to make them understand,
First, The nature of the purchase.

Second, Who paid the price.

Third, For whom the price was paid? and

Fourth, Whose property in consequence of this purchase, they unquestionably were.

And I spent the after part of the day, in pointing out in what manner they may, in body and spirit, glorify God.

1st, In spirit, by believing his word, which assures us we are bought with a price, and that therefore we are not our own.

2d. That belonging unto God, our time and our best services, are his righteous due.

3d.) To glorify God in our spirit, is to put unbounded confidence in his word, even when every thing visible seems to contradict our hopes. As Abraham, who when offering up his son, in whom God had promised all the nations of the earth should be blessed, staggered not at the promise through unbelief, but being strong in faith, gave glory to God. To believe, therefore, that God will perform what he has promised, although every object of sense should seem to contradict our expectation, is to glorify God in our spirit.

4th. To view God as our Father, and all mankind as our brethren, and to believe our everlasting Father, will never act inconsistent with this endearing character, that he will proportion with paternal wisdom, both blessings, and corrections, that he will never withhold either the rod, or the staff, but that he will reward the individuals which constitute his purchased possession, according to their works. Thus to believe, is to glorify God in our spirit.

Lastly, To trust in God at all times, not being afraid; to come up from this wilderness leaning on the beloved; in one word, to VOL. I. 43