PUBLISHERS' NOTICE.

By particular request, the Rev. Dr. Sharp, of this city, has supplied us with an interesting letter, addressed to the Editor, expressing his approbation of the work, and containing several pleasing reminiscences of the late Dr. Staughton. It was received too late to be incorporated in the body of the work; and it is, therefore, with the consent of the Editor, placed at the commencement of the volume.

We highly value his testimony to the desirableness and importance of the Memoir of his much esteemed tutor and friend; and sincerely thank him for the striking facts which he relates.

Boston, March 1, 1834.

DR. SHARP'S LETTER TO THE EDITOR.

Dear Sir,

Boston, December 19th, 1833.

I am extremely gratified to learn that you are preparing a Memoir of your excellent and honored father-in-law. It would have been discreditable to the denomination, of which he was an extensively useful and distinguished minister, had he been permitted to descend to the grave without a particular record being given of his character and labors.

Had my health allowed, it would have been a pleasure to me, to have complied with the wishes of his friends in performing the service which you have undertaken. I am glad, however, that the task has been assigned to one, who is both qualified and disposed to do justice to a man, who is entitled to "everlasting remembrance."

The name of Dr. Staughton awakens in my bosom the most delightful recollections. He was one of the most amiable, talented, noble-hearted, and useful men, with whom I have ever been acquainted. I was first introduced to him in the spring of 1807. The circumstances which gave rise to that event, and his invariable kindness towards me subsequently, were, I believe, in perfect accordance with the feelings which governed his whole life.

Hearing, by a mutual friend, that I had been licensed to preach, but was desirous of increasing my little stock of literary and theological knowledge, before I devoted myself exclusively to the work of the ministry; he addressed me in a most affectionate letter, in which he confirmed my views and purposes, invited me to his habitation, and gave assurance of his readiness to aid me in a course of study to the best of his ability.

So soon as I could arrange my concerns, I accepted his invitation, and in the evening of the twenty-first of March, in the year already named, I found myself in his hospitable dwelling. I had the honor of being his first theological student. Although his engagements were numerous,—for besides preaching three times on the Sabbath, and twice

during the week, he gave instruction in two of the most respectable female seminaries in Philadelphia,—yet I recited to him once or twice every day, except on the Sabbath. In addition to the regular course of study which was prescribed, the almost unreserved intercourse which he permitted me to enjoy with him, was of no small advantage. His intelligent remarks, the result of his own experience and observation, concerning ministerial and pastoral duties; his amiable deportment in private life, and his able and eloquent discourses in public,-for he was then at the zenith of his ministerial career,—were not, I trust, wholly lost upon me. I am sure, while I possess the power of memory, these seasons of delightful and instructive intercourse, can never be forgotten. They are treasured recollections, which, even at this distance of time, cheer many a solitary hour.

The interest which Dr. Staughton felt for his pupils, did not subside when they were removed from his immediate care. His letters followed them to their scenes of labor, fraught with expressions of friendship, and the counsels of experience and wisdom. He felt for them a paternal regard. If they were faithful, successful, and respected, they were his glory and his joy. He loved to speak of them as his sons in the ministry of reconciliation.

In return, his pupils felt for him a filial veneration and love. The mention of his name, has often operated as a spell in charming away the melancholy, which the coldness and selfishness of others had produced, by calling up vividly to remembrance, those sunlight seasons in which they held intercourse with one, whose dignity as a teacher, was so blended with the affability and kindness of the man, as to inspire the most timid with confidence, and the most bold with respectful regard.

Dr. Staughton possessed an uncommonly active and vigorous mind. I now feel admiration and surprise, while I think of the amount of his intellectual labors. Although his sermons were not wholly written, yet they were by no means extemporaneous effusions. They were the result of much and varied reading, and of deep and patient thought. In the earlier years of his ministry, such was his intense anxiety in preparing for the pulpit, that it frequently produced a serious derangement of his health. During the period

I was with him, I never heard him on the Sabbath, more than once or twice, when he had not notes of his discourse, more or less copious. These, however, he used so expertly, that persons who did not see them, had no suspicion of any paper being before him.

But his intellectual efforts were not confined to his preparations for the pulpit. He composed and delivered lectures on Botany, Sacred and Profane History, to the young ladies at the two seminaries already mentioned. He was also constantly extending his knowledge in different branches of physical science; and for two years at least, while I was with him, he was virtually, although not nominally the editor of a monthly periodical, "published under the patronage of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, in the United States of America." A large, if not the largest portion of the original and selected matter in the work during that period, was contributed by him. From that publication, and the Latter Day Luminary, a very interesting volume, containing the productions of his pen, might be compiled. It would be a treasure of able essays, ingenious criticisms, striking anecdotes, and beautiful poetry.

He was so,

Dr. Staughton was a truly benevolent man. both from feeling, and from principle. I have accompanied him many a time to the habitations of the poor, and to the couches of the sick, and the dying; and he never seemed more happy, than when he was ministering to their wants, and when, by the utterance of the tenderest feelings, in the tenderest language, he evidently soothed their sorrows. need say nothing of his untiring, powerful and disinterested support of the religious charities of the age. Every one acquainted with their rise and progress, knows that he most readily gave his time, his talents, and his whole influence, in advancing their prosperity.

I

Whatever might be his occasional errors in judgment, he always appeared to me to be actuated by high, moral, and religious considerations. In his most favorite plans, I believe he had never his own aggrandizement in view. Some of them might have been impracticable, but they were not selfish. I have known him suffer wrong, in patient silence; but although I knew him intimately, and long, I never knew him do a mean, unkind, or unjust action.

Of his preaching, I have said nothing. You had the privilege of hearing him for a succession of years. I shall, therefore, leave it to you to describe the manner in which be illustrated and enforced the great truths of Christianity. This will be a difficult task. You may easily repeat what he said, but you will far surpass my expectation, if you succeed in conveying to those who never heard him, a correct idea of his action, so suited to his word, or of his countenance, so expressive of what was passing within, or of the intonations of his voice, which penetrated the chambers of the soul, and awakened in his hearers emotions of joy or grief, of terror or transport, at his bidding.

There were occasions, however, when it seemed to me, that he had more action and voice, than his subject required. But when he appeared in the pulpit, prepared by suitable reflection, to discuss some great truth, as his imagination kindled, and his soul expanded with his theme, he would pour forth such strains of lofty and yet melting eloquence, as I never heard from any other man. Many a time, I have seen a crowded assembly, now held in breathless silencenow all in tears-and now scarcely able to remain on their seats, while listening to "the glorious gospel of the blessed God," delivered with such sublime and heart-thrilling pathos, that if angels were spectators, they must have been enraptured with the scene.

He was not more happy in his manner, than in his selection of subjects. He was an attentive observer of passing events. Whether they affected nations, families, or individuals, if they were of a character to excite public attention, he felt that,

"To give to them a tongue, was wise in man."

His texts on these occasions were "like apples of gold in pictures of silver." Every one perceived their appropriateness. Attention was awakened, and the instruction thus imparted could not easily be erased from the mind.

I will give you some instances of his peculiarly happy talent in this respect. When intelligence was received from Spain, of the downfall of the infamous Godoy, who was styled the "Prince of Peace," he delivered on the following Sabbath a most interesting discourse from the passage in Isaiah, "He shall be called—the Prince of Peace." I dis