lie in irregular piles of vast size. Nearly half of the grand rock is parted from the other half, leaving a crevice of a foot, down which you can see a great depth. Said my landlord in the evening-"No man can see the Peak of Otter, and disbelieve a flood." The visitants with me adverted to the flood, as the grand agent in the waste scene around us. Another circumstance occurred to my eye on that elevation with great force, as confirming the conjecture. It is the form of the mountains generally. They are fluted from top to bottom, that is, lie in up and down ridges and vallies;— not such as might have been effected by showers, nor these ever so frequently repeated. Among perhaps a thousand mountains and swells in view, there were none which were not thus marked.

"It would be difficult in a volume to sketch every thing interesting in this vast prospect. The fatigue of the ascent is compensated by obtaining a correct view of this mountainous country. Nearly three quarters of the horizon, from north-east by west round to southeast, as far as the eye can see, is mountainous country, interspersed with rich and cultivated vallies. Three extensive bold ridges run parallel with each other from south-west and north-east. Thus this country from the Peak of Otter, appears like the ocean, seen from some immensely high beacon on the beach, when tossed by a tempest-only the waves in elevation bear but a mean porportion to these towering swells.

"While on the top of the mountain we saw a delightful phenomenon, novel to us all, a rainbow below us ;—

an arch it was not, but a straight line extended on the forest eight or ten miles, vivid with the colours of the ordinary bow. It was at first compact, occupying but little width of space, but gradually spread and grew fainter, till it melted away."

From this journey, he returned with renovated health to resume the duties of his beloved profession. But the interim of his absence had been marked by melancholy changes in the domestic circles of those, to whom he was accustomed to break the bread of life. The removal of thirteen communicants by death during his absence, occasioned a discourse from the text in Lamentations" The ways of Zion do mourn, because none come to her solemn feasts: all her gates are desolate." The season of ministerial service, which followed his return, is to be considered perhaps the most laborious and successful of his life. He devoted the moments of leisure from parochial duties to studies, to whose direction the controversies of the day in some degree contributed. He always engaged with great pleasure in studies connected with the sacred criticism of the Bible. He availed himself of every means within his reach for the elucidation of its contents. His deep reverence for the sacred oracles imparted a hallowed charm to these pursuits; and he was never more delighted than when fresh light broke in upon his mind in relation to any single text, whose true meaning was but imperfectly understood before. His studies were consecrated by a strong feeling of piety, and he brought to the pulpit a habit and manner, which evinced how

deeply they had employed his hours in private ;-a manner indicative of a mind, which has with great justice on another occasion been characterized as one “in whom dwelt the words of Christ richly in all wisdom"a manner, to which the epithet bestowed on a primitive defender of christianity was more than in an ordinary sense applicable, as " eloquent and mighty in the scriptures." His preaching was much enforced by considerations peculiar to christianity. A partiality for authors of the class of Baxter and Doddridge produced a tinge of thought and expression, which gave interest to his sermons, and led to what he deemed a more useful impression, without the adoption of those peculiarities, which he might not approve. Whenever he deviated from the accustomed manner of his preaching, and assumed topics bordering on the region of controversial discussion, it was with the fixed design rather of "preaching up his own sentiments, than of preaching down the sentiments of other men." It formed, however, no leading part of his plan in preaching to awaken in his people a love of polemic discussion, or to enlist their passions in the controversies of the day. He aimed, rather, to make them serious and to preserve them calm; and the object of his public and private instructions was to lead them to love their christian brethren of various sentiments and persuasions, and to engage them in searching their own hearts, rather than in investigating the errors and censuring the motives of others.

In the course of this period of his professional life, he was called to appear on many public occasions. His advice was often sought in cases of an ecclesiastical nature, and his services required in his own vicinity and at a distance, in the induction of others to the sacred office. In 1818, he preached the Dudleian Lecture at Cambridge, and received the degree of Doctor in Divinity, from the same University, in 1821. In August, 1823, he delivered the annual sermon in Federal Street Church, before the society for promoting Theological Education in Harvard University. No object appeared to him more important than a liberal provision of the means of supplying an intelligent ministry adequate to the demands of an expanding and improving state of society.

The habits of unremitting application, which were formed in early life, he continued to the latest period of his professional course. He practised, with only unavoidable exceptions, the general rule of meeting with fresh preparation the weekly demands of the pulpit, till his health compelled a relinquishment of public effort. In a letter of Nov. 1826, he writes,-" In ten months I have written more sermons than in any other twelve since I left H., and I was sure I was never in better spirits, nor more capable of duties and conversation." In May, 1827, he delivered the discourse at the Convention of Congregational Ministers; and in near succession, the sermon at the installation of his brother in law, Rev. A. Abbot, at Peterborough, N. H. These discourses, which were published, are a substantial tes

timony to the genuine liberality of his feelings, and the characteristic gentleness, which pervaded his whole private and pastoral life.

The unremitting labours of the past year, in connexion with the occasions of a public and engrossing nature, on which he was called to officiate, made serious inroads on his health. In the autumn, his former complaints returned. He sought relief from the damp winds of the shore, by retiring to the more balmy air of the interior. The rainy state of the season rendered his excursion fruitless to the permanent recovery of his health; and he continued to suffer under a painful cough, which deprived him of the necessary refreshment of sleep, and wore with a wasting irritation on his frame. Under the attacks of disease, he preserved a peculiar serenity of mind. His natural cheerfulness never deserted him. So peculiar was his serenity, as insensibly to create the delusion that no real occasion for alarm existed. In a letter of Sept. 21st, he writes-" For one thing I cannot be sufficiently thankful; my bad nerves inspire no gloom. In no period of my life have I enjoyed so much tranquillity, peace, nay, let me say it, joy, religious joy, as in the last two or three months. In the review of my life, the goodness of God appears wonderful to me. My course, as far as Providence is concerned, from childhood seems a path of light, without a cloud of darkness-an unvaried scene of mercy."

At this period he made to his congregation substantially the following summary of his past life and labours. "In leaving my affectionate and beloved people at H.