say of it, at least as confidently as of any undertaking of my life, that it has been enterprised and prosecuted "in simplicity and godly sincerity." The employment prosecuted under the influence of such motives and such trust in God, has been a source of daily pleasure. I commit the result, as I have often done, to the Almighty, praying for his blessing upon it through Jesus Christ.

An extract of a letter from the Rev. Samuel C. Jackson describes in vivid phrase an interview between friends, the warmth of whose affectionate attachment knew no change. Theirs was one of those friendships which look to a more favored clime for full development and expansion.

"At our next meeting," says that gentleman, "he had reached the summit of his usefulness and fame. He had been successfully connected with different colleges as a professor or president. He was ranked among the first of the most celebrated preachers of his country; he had visited foreign lands, and, as an author, had instructed the public by his excellent volumes of travels, and-what was then deeply and personally interesting to myself during this tour Providence cast him, weary and sick, into the family of my youngest and tenderly-beloved sister at Constantinople. There, for some weeks, her kindness ministered to his comfort, and her gentle and delicate spirit made him welcome. In America, she had shared her brother's regard for him who was now her guest, and to meet and befriend him in her own home abroad was a pleasure which only Christian friendship which has been bereaved and denied could appreciate. As soon as circumstances permitted, after Dr. Olin's return to this country, he met me by appointment at my own house. I was then a country pastor, having had all my religious and professional life, since we last saw each other, at the home of my childhood, among the green mountains of our native

state.

It was a memorable interview! Few such occur in any life! It was the second since we met in his sick-room on the day of his graduation. Between that day and our next meeting at my father's house, what a change in him! And now again, since the morning of our parting in Shaftsbury, Vermont, what a change! Then he was on the threshold of his public life. Then all his achievements for the Church and the world were in the future. Now he was in the meridian of his strength. The distinction predicted of him was a reality. He was the mature, honored, great man —of commanding intellect, extensive attainments, rare powers of eloquence, wide-spread usefulness, great influence over the most numerous religious denomination, his name and fame still extending,

"And the elements

So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, this was a man.'

His varied treasures of information, gathered by extensive travel and intercourse in this country and in other lands; his shrewd and common-sense observation of men and things; his vivacious, facile, and original powers of expression; his unconscious exhibition of intellectual supremacy, together with his entire simplicity of manners and generosity of spirit, rendered him no ordinary guest and companion at a greeting of old friends, or in any circle of friendship and intelligence. "My last interview with him was at my place of business where I had met him once before. It was during the winter previous to his decease. With a common friend he entered, gave his cordial greeting, dropped a few of his expressive and pointed utterances, with a friendly welcome to his home, and withdrew, to come no more. He is dead, and yet he lives-lives on earth. True greatness is immortal!”

in

Letters written in 1841 and 1842.

LXIII. TO THE REV. BISHOP ANDREW.

Saratoga Springs, July 8th, 1841. You have perhaps thought me forgetful of my promise to write you, if able, soon after my arrival at my Northern home. I have not been able to write hitherto, and my nieces, whom I intended to employ as amanuenses, were absent from home attending school.

I had a pretty rough voyage of nearly eight days. I was much pleased with Captain Brown. I stayed at New York eighteen days, including five of the Conference, which I visited three or four times, fifteen or twenty minutes at a sitting. I was compelled to leave by ill health. I found my brother in improved health, for which I can not be thankful enough. I stayed with him about three weeks, and have been here the same period. As to my health, I remained in about the same state until since I arrived in this place, languid and dyspeptic, just able to walk a few yards.*. I am now stronger, which I ascribe to the water. I walked nearly a mile this morning-the greatest exploit I have achieved since last fall. I of course take some encouragement, and hope the water may prove decidedly useful to me. Be that and all things as God wills. I am much more habituated to look upon my complaints as susceptible of no remedies but such as their final result will introduce me to. And God has long enabled me to look to that with composure and joy. I can not expect health, and yet who shall limit the Divine power and goodness? Him may I honor in death or in life. If the water continue to act favorably, I shall probably spend the summer here.

I have not yet bought the little farm I spoke of, though I

* The night of the day of his arrival in the United States, he had a return of the malignant fever contracted among the fens of the Danube, from the effects of which he had not yet recovered.

am in treaty for one in West Poultney. I fear the climate, and am yet without any settlement of mind upon the matter. My Southern attachments and habits draw me powerfully in the opposite direction.

I sent you and brother Capers walking-sticks from Mount Sinai, by T. Stewart. His is marked Jordan, but is, like yours, from Mount Sinai.

LXIV. TO MISS MARY ANN HOWARD.

It

Salisbury, Vermont, October 13th, 1841. I have felt much concern at not hearing from you for so long a time, and I am led to fear that a letter which I addressed to you at the Merriwether Springs miscarried. must have been near the last of August when I wrote to you. I was in New Utrecht, on Long Island. I left Saratoga about the middle of that month to proceed to the White Sulphur Springs, but on reaching New York I found myself too unwell to proceed, and my physician advised me to give over my journey as highly perilous. I had intended, after spending some time in Virginia, to proceed to Georgia, after returning to New York for a few days only, if able. I spent three weeks on Long Island for the benefit of sea air, which proved injurious to me, and I then came, with no little difficulty, to this place, more feeble and emaciated than I had been for many months. I have since regained a good deal of strength, and am in that respect, very much as I was last winter in Georgia-possibly, a little better. Here it is my intention to spend the winter, unless some indications should compel me to attempt a journey southward, which, with my entire unfitness for traveling, I should greatly dread. The fierce winter of this climate, which already begins to show its teeth, has many terrors for me; but I hope, by means of warm apartments, and an ample provision of blankets and other like appliances, to endure it without serious inconvenience. I shall, no doubt, have frequent occasion to think of the sunny skies of beloved Georgia,

as I certainly shall of the dear, kind friends there, who form a stronger attraction than even the balmy climate which they inhabit. I should be glad to spend all the winters as well as summers that may remain to me in their agreeable society; but God disposes of these things for us, not always as we should choose, but always for the best.

You will perceive, from my present arrangement, that I can not comply with your father's request to bring him a pair of horses and carriage. I wrote with regard to this before. I will thank you to make my affectionate salutations to your father and mother, to sister Caroline, Arabella, and all the children. I think with great pleasure of you all, and pray that our merciful God may shower his blessings upon you. I pray especially that you may all be made the partakers of his rich saving grace by Christ Jesus. Of this I must always be allowed to speak as the best of blessings, as it is, of all things, most precious to me. Surely I shall, through this abounding grace, enjoy many dear friends in heaven. One, beloved above all, has gone before me. Many more-you, my dear niece, and your dear family, though yet exposed to the world's temptations-I ever hope and pray to meet, with her, in heaven.

LXV. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON, BROOKLYN.

Salisbury, November 20th, 1841.

I lose no time in answering your favor of the 16th instant, which came to hand last evening. My residence in Vermont this winter will depend wholly upon the state of my health. I shall certainly remain here if I can; and so far the cold weather has appeared to be favorable, certainly not injurious to me. Indeed, I have to thank God for a degree of strength and comfort quite beyond any thing I have previously enjoyed since my return to America. If, contrary to present indications, I should be compelled to seek a milder climate, I should, in all probability, continue my flight to Georgia.