friends, than his own, in deciding whether such defects belong to him. Does any one shrink through an apprehension that his talents are not of that high order, which is so desirable in the missionary? This too is a ground of hesitation not always to be unheeded. But here also, let the opinion of the intelligent and judicious be confided in, rather than our own. For men are not generally qualified to estimate correctly their own intellectual power: and there may be instances where some peculiar qualifications of a moral character for the missionary work, may more than compensate for some deficiency of mental acumen.

Does any one excuse himself because he sees many around him, who, in his opinion, are better qualified for missionary service than himself? And if this be a correct estimate, does it follow that he is excused from this work? What striking diversities and even contrasts existed among the apostles, in constitutional disposition, in intellect, and even in the features of their piety! Yet controlled by the same priciple-the love of Christ-their minor peculiarities scarcely obstructed, nay, in some instances, they promoted, their usefulness. This then is a fallacious excuse, which, in scarcely any case, can bear the light of eternity.

Does any one plead the unwillingness or opposition of friends as an excuse? Who are these friends? Are they a father or a mother, a brother or a sister, who are dependent on his exertions for subsistence, and who must be left to want and wretchedness should he leave them? Then is it his paramount duty to abide with them until a reasonable provision is made for their comfort. But is the objector a parent, who has made his child an idol, and who cannot bear to resign him entirely to Christ? Is it a parent, who in all his efforts to educate his son, had in view his future eminence in his own coun

try; and cannot relinquish the idea of catching the reflected beams of the worldly glory, that shall erelong encircle the brow of his son? Or is it one of softer name, to whom the young man has given his heart, but who has not religion enough to accompany him into the distant abodes of moral death, to plant there the tree of holiness? O there are heart piercing words of the Saviour, which every young man of education and piety should ponder well, before he permits such friends to turn him aside from his noble purpose. of throwing himself between the perishing heathen and their everlasting destruction. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. come to me and hate not his father and mother and wife and children and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.

If any man

Does any one excuse himself because he is not sensible of having received any special call to this service? What does he expect will constitute such a call? Does he wait for a miracle, for a dream, or an audible voice from heaven?-Every intelligent man at this day understands too well the economy of the Christian dispensation, to expect God will make such special interferences to show men the path of duty. Let a man seriously examine the subject of personal consecration to the missionary service, and erelong he will hear a voice behind him-not the voice of a miracle, or of a special revelation, but the voice of Providence, the voice of conscience awakened by the unperceived influences of the Divine Spirit, saying, this is the way, walk thou in it. And this will constitute a call to the service, as imperative, as ever broke from heaven, in an audible voice, upon the ear of prophet or apostle.

Does any one shrink from this service because the life of a missionary

seems so appalling, and the scenes of civilized life so attractive? Does the one present before him nothing but an unalleviated, incessant round of hardship and suffering, removed far beyond even the sources of enjoy ment, because without the pale of civilization and refinement and learning while the other spreads out before him a flowery vale, watered by the streams of happiness, fanned by its breezes, and warmed by its sunshine? He fancies himself willing perhaps, to serve his Saviour all his days; but he must be permitted to do it in his own country, among his own kindred, in literary and refined society, where he can meet with some whose tastes are congenial with his own. A residence among ignorant besotted idolaters seems to him altogether too much for his nature to endure. Oh, how long will it be, ere Christians learn, that the path of duty is alone the path of happiness. It may, indeed, lead a man away from civilized and learned society; and from kindred and from country; but it never leads him away from his God. It may cross the billowy ocean, even to the very antipodes: but God will accompany him to hush the winds and smooth the waves. It may traverse the deserts of Arabia or Africa; but God can spread a green carpet over the burning sands, and give streams in the desert. It may lead over the snows of Greenland, and the ice-bergs of the pole. But the presence of God can produce in the missionary's soul, a lovelier spring than ever yet opened upon hill or dale. On the other hand, the path of inclination and self-interest leads away from happiness, because it leads away from God. He follows not the steps of the traveller therein, unless it be with a curse. It may, indeed, lead down the fertile and sunny vale of civilization and refinement: but God will scorch and make barren the region around the traveller, so that the green and flowery fields will ever fly before him, like the waters that mock

the thirst of the pilgrim in the desert. This path may wind into the silent groves of science, and even cross the Castalian fountain: but God can infuse bitterness into the waters, and make those shades swarm with serpents, and its air heavy with pestilence and death. It may pass directly through the temple of know. ledge and literature may scatter her flowers under the traveller's feet, and science encircle his brow with her amaranthine wreath. But the blast of God's displeasure will wither those flowers and convert that wreath into a crown of thorns. Oh, it is in vain for the religious man to expect happiness, or even comfort, in any pursuit or any station, which God does not approve and bless! It is likewise impossible, to go out of the sphere of happiness, while following the path of duty.

Young men of education and piety! Let me say to you in conclusion, that the call to the missionary service waxes louder and louder. The cry of heathen, mahomedan, and papal lands for help, is coming to our ears in a voice which cannot be smothered. That cry of misery begins at the very antipodes; and radiating thence, it rapidly spreads over either hemisphere. From almost every island and shore, a like note of woe rises and swells the flying voice; and even from the world of perdition, the wailings of those who have perished without law, come up to mingle with the sound. groans of the Saviour too, which for eighteen hundred years have been echoing among the mountains of Palestine, join the cry of perishing millions as it passes by. It is borne forward on the roar of the ocean; it flies upon the wings of the wind. From every side of the globe this mighty voice seems to come, and concentrate, and burst over our col leges:-peal after peal-roar after roar-and groan after groan. And does it stop here? No: it ascends into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth:

The dying

and he, the professed disciple of Christ, who heeds it not on earth, will hear it again pealing on his ears, from

the final judgment seat; it may be, only to deepen the tones in which his eternal doom is uttered.

DISTINGUISHED PERSONS IN ENGLAND.

[Continued from our last number.]

MR. WILBERFORCE.

EARLY this morning, I left the city in company with my excellent friend, Mr. J. W., whose kind attentions, since I have been here, I can never too highly estimate, for High Wood Hill, Mr. Wilberforce's residence. Our ride was through a beautiful and highly cultivated region; and at High Gate, particularly, which is elevated ground, we had one of the richest views which this vicinity affords. Mr. Wilberforce's dwelling is a large stone building, situated on a delightful eminence, which commands an extensive rural prospect, and particularly a fine view of the beautiful valley beneath. On delivering the letter to the servant, we were informed that Mr. Wilberforce was at home, and would be disengaged in a short time; and, in the mean while, were introduced into the library, where, with the leave of the librarian, we amused ourselves by looking over the books, and noticing various corrections which Mr. Wilberforce had made with his pen.

This was particularly the case in respect to the writings of Robert Hall, of whom he is so great an admirer that he remarked that he did not believe there was a man living who possessed finer talents. After nearly half an hour, Mr. Wilberforce came in, and received us with every expression of kindness and cordiality. His appearance is, in some respects, quite peculiar. He is small in stature, extremely rapid in his movements, quite near sighted, and withal a little deformed; but the

moment he speaks, his countenance becomes a perfect mirror, in which you see reflected every thing that is lovely in the human character. After requesting us to notice the beautiful scenery which was to be seen from his window, and remarking upon the likeness of his intimate friend, William Pitt, which was in the room, which he said was the only good likeness of him in existence, he requested us to walk into his drawing room, that he might introduce us to his family; very kindly remarking to me at the same time, that he wished to do it the rather, that if I should visit England again, though he should not be here to receive me, I might be sure to receive the friendly attentions of his son. After spending a few moments with his family, he invited us into his study, where he showed us the remaining part of his library and particularly his periodical publications, which are very numerous. A little incident occurred, while in his drawing-room, which I mention not without some hesitation, lest, if it were known to Mr. Wilberforce, it should wound the charming modesty which it is intended to illustrate. On the table I observed the most elegant set of china that I ever saw; and Mr. Wilberforce, perceiving that it attracted our attention, took up some of the different articles, and pointed out to us their peculiar beauties. Upon being asked whether it was English manufacture, he replied that it was foreign on being asked from what country it came, he said from Prussia; and after a few moments the secret came out, in a manner which showed that while he felt honored by the gift, he had intended

to conceal the source from which it came that it was a present from the King of Prussia. When I remarked to him that his health seemed much more vigorous than I had expected, he replied that he had great reason for gratitude to God that he enjoyed so comfortable health, and that notwithstanding his present degree of bodily vigor, he was told by Doctor Warren, one of the most eminent physicians in London, more than forty years ago, that he had not stamina enough to endure a fortnight. He expressed a high regard for several American divines, especially for Doctor Dwight, which I was happy to assure him was fully reciprocated, having heard the Doctor speak in terms of admiration of Mr. Wilberforce's character. He remarked that he had observed with great satisfaction that the jealous and unfriendly feelings which had existed in former years between England and America, seem to have greatly diminished; that a countryman of ours, for whose talents he had great respect, and who had written several things which he highly valued, at length published a book in which he attacked England with great violence, and that on reading it, he anticipated the most unfavorable effect; but that fortunately, it was so large and so closely printed, and the English withal being rather an indolent people, and not much inclined to encounter formidable works, it never got into circulation in the country, and therefore never did any hurt. He spoke with warm approbation of the book of American Travels by Mr. Hodgson of Liverpool, as containing what he believed to be a correct account of the American cha racter, and as having contributed greatly to increase the good feelings of the English towards us. He kindly presented me with a copy of his Practical View, saying that it was a book which he wrote many years ago, soon after it pleased God to open his eyes and bring him to the

knowledge of the truth; that he had occasion for gratitude that it had been in some degree, useful; and that Burke read it soon after it was published, and sent him word that he approved it cordially. In reply to a question that I asked concerning Burke's religious character, he observed that though he had reason to fear that he was not decidedly a pious man, yet he was undoubtedly among the best of the class to which he belonged. After spending an hour and a half in listening to his charming conversation, we took leave of him; and I am sure that I never parted with any person with a more delightful impression. If the sentiment was strong that I had been in the company of one of the greatest men in England, it was still stronger that I had been in the company of one of the best men in the world.

Letters from Europe.

HANNAH MORE.

Yesterday morning I set out in company with my friend Mr. H. of this city, a gentleman whose friendly attentions have contributed greatly to render my visit here agreeable

for Mrs. More's residence. As the morning was delightful, we had a fine view from some of the neighboring hills of the city and its environs, and particularly of the celebrated village of Clifton, whose wild and beautiful scenery has called into exercise some of the most exquisite powers of the pen and the pencil. After travelling over a delightful country about nine miles, we found by inquiry that we were quite near the celebrated cottage, a sight of which, with its venerable inhabitant, was the object of our excursion; and we soon turned out of the main road, and followed rather an obscure path for nearly a mile, till we reached the gate of Barley Wood, We were gratified to learn from the servant at the door, that Mrs. M. was in comparatively comfortable health; as we had heard of her having been

recently ill, and were apprehensive that she might still be too feeble to receive company. We were seated for a few moments in the parlor, the walls of which are nearly lined with the portraits of distinguished men, many of them Mrs. M.'s intimate friends. I sent up my letters of introduction, and the servant soon retured with a request that we would walk into the apartment in which Mrs. M. was sitting. When we entered the room, she rose and shook hands with us in a familiar and pleasant manner, which made me quite forget the embarrassment which I was prepared to feel on approaching so distinguished and exalted a character. She is rather small in stature, has a most regular and expressive countenance, and an eye which beams forth nothing but intelligence and benignity. She is now eightythree years of age; and for the last five years has been confined to her room by bodily indisposition, except that in the summer season, she has been occasionally carried out, and drawn by her servants in a handcarriage about her grounds. She soon spoke of her "dear friend, Mr. Wilberforce," in connexion with the letter which I had brought from him; and when I told her that I had lately spent a most delightful hour and a half in his company, she replied that she had no doubt it was an hour and a half spent near the threshold of heaven. She observed that Mr. W. was one of her oldest friends; that his writings had produced a very beneficial effect on the higher circles in this country, and "his prayers" said she, "in my family, when he is here, are heavenly." When I remarked on the beautiful situation of Barley Wood, she replied that she should send her servant soon to conduct us over her little domain, and requested that we would particularly notice a monument that she had erected in honor of John Locke, and another to the memory of her "dear friend," Bishop PorVOL. II.-No. XI.

74

teus; "but," said she, "you must first view the different prospects which I have from my house." After pointing out to us some of the many beautiful objects to be seen from the room in which we were sitting, she conducted us into an adjoining apartment which was her sleeping room; and pointing to an armed chair, "that chair," said she "I call my home. Here," looking out of a window, " is what I call my moral prospect. You see yonder distant hill which limits the prospect in that direction. You see this tree before my window directly in range of the hill. The tree, you observe, from being near, appears higher than the hill, which is distant; though the hill actually is much higher than the tree. Now this tree represents to my mind the objects of time; that hill, the objects of eternity. The former, like the tree, from being viewed near at hand, appear great : the latter, like the hill, from being viewed at a distance, appear small." Speaking of the enfeebled state of my health, which was the occasion of my present absence from home, she advised me to be particularly on my guard against undue excitement. "The disciples," she observed, "could sleep in sorrow ;" and she had found that she could sleep far better after a day of affliction, than after an interview which has caused much excitement. Her own character through life, she said, had been marked by impatience; not that impatience which would lead her to be peevish towards her servants or others around her; but that which led her to push on a work, when she had commenced it, till it was completed; and to this trait in her character, especially, she attributed the fact of her having written so much. She remarked that she had never been able to quote from her own writings; that her companion would often read to her paragraphs from them, and she did not recognise them as her own; and though her memory, in regard