ney. It is a little curious, that last evening, about this time, I received the letter I referred to, written by "A backslider ;" and while I was actually upon the very part about the doctor going to Alderney, a letter came to my house from a person giving me a history of his introduction into Alderney. Here it is:

"Permit the writer to say, that he has been acquainted with the Old Arminian Methodist church for forty-eight years; wherefore he remembers the late most excellent and truly devout man of God, Adam Clarke, in early life. And give me leave to observe, that a few years after he became a preacher, he was appointed for Jersey and Guernsey. While Mr. Clarke was at Jersey, it was impressed on his mind to visit Alderney; but this place being at this time peopled by outlaws, no mariner could be found who would trust this virtuous young apostle to the mercy of such miscreants. Mr. Clarke, being under the influence and direction of the Holy Ghost, determined on paying them a visit. He got a passage in a smuggler's boat, from which he was landed safely on the isle of Alderney; but knowing no one on the island, he for some time roamed about, with a heart truly devoted to the work in which he was embarked. At last, placing his eye on a little cottage, he ventured to enter it with the promise of his Master, Christ Jesus the Lord,

'Peace be to this house!'

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Well, Mr. Clarke, in writing to Mr. Wesley, observes that the same little house was inhabited by an aged man and woman, the latter of whom understood his mission, and, like the Shunamite, perceiving that he was a man of God, showed him to an upper room on the wall, where there was a bed, a table, a stool, and a candlestick." Here Mr. Clarke, the good man, and his wife, spent a short time in prayer, when he prevailed on them to publish that it was his intention to preach. Around him they gathered, and he truly unfolded the gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; when many, being convinced of sin, were constrained to cry out for mercy; and many, gratified with the doctrine delivered, cleared out a large store-room, where he delivered to them his second sermon. On leaving the island, he was followed by the people, entreating him to stay with them, or shortly to return, or send one like himself; for they needed such preaching. Further, Mr. Clarke adds, in his letter to Mr. Wesley, that there was no minister on the island but an old French Roman Catholic priest, who cared nothing for the souls of the people; and here, in early life, Mr. Clarke was made the sole instrument of establishing a society in that place, which hell and death have never yet been able to prevail against. God be thanked, and of his infinite mercy grant, that the death of this eminent man may be the occasion of the resurrection of the soul of the man who wrote me that letter!

It seems that his preaching extempore was considered, in the island, as a phenomenon; and on one occasion the governor heard him on the

stairs, and at the conclusion of the service, politely requested him to allow him to see his Bible-fully expecting to find his sermon enclosed in it. He found it a simple Bible, without note or comment; and returning it to the preacher, expressed his pleasure at having heard the discourse.

I hold in my hand a copy of an extract from one of his letters to Mr. King, from Guernsey. He says, "Here I am determined, by the grace of God, to conquer and die; and have taken the subsequent for a motto, and have it placed before me on the mantel-piece." It is a Greek sentence, the meaning of which is, "Stand thou as a beaten anvil to the stroke; for it is the property of a good warrior to be flayed alive, and yet to conquer." That was the motto of Dr. Clarke's life.

Having fulfilled his mission, he was removed: and now the scene widened before him, and the whole length and breadth of England and Ireland laid at his feet. As it is impossible I can continue this narrative, I shall merely say that God gave him, henceforth, his heart's desire. He had now a noble and spacious theatre of action for the play of his faculties; and it must now be pleasing to observe, that all the way from the Norman Isles in the south to the Shetlands in the extreme north, he has diffused the savor of the knowledge of Christ; and all along-from one extremity of the British islands to the other, taking Britain itself as a centre-he has left a track of light and glory behind him. In what great division of the country has he not been? and where has he been and has not left the print of his feet, a memorial of his genuine piety, and acknowledgment of his sterling worth, the sweet odor of his name? The whole land is mourning for him: this day his name has been on myriads of lips since this morning's sun appeared above the horizon. What portion of the people is there not sighing to think that he is no more-that the wind has passed over him and he is gone? Oh, my heart is sad! I will not-I must not-I dare not utter all that I feel. Oh, thou great and gracious God, teach us to bow meekly before thee, and to profit greatly by this most stunning blow of thine hand!

What did I say?—that Great Britain and Ireland formed the theatre of his usefulness? It was a great mistake: all over the United States of America he is read, and studied, and felt, and all but seen and heard by the germinating mind of that new and teeming hemisphere. No wonder that its chief men should send an invitation to him to come and see their shores, as the last "Christian Advocate" so beautifully tells us, that he may go and tread their shores, and visit their pulpits, and bless their youth, and lift up his honored head among their rising schools and colleges; and by showing them ADAM CLARKE, let them see what a thinking head and a diligent hand a gracious heart can bring forth, under the divine blessing. But what a shock is now vibrating towards that land! How will they grieve-not that they shall

see him no more, but that they shall never see him at all! In Germany, as I was told by a learned friend and a great traveller, who was present at his funeral, he will be lamented as much as in this country— that he is beyond measure respected and revered there, his works having revealed and praised him in their gates. When I think on these things-when I look back on the course he has thus so long and so splendidly pursued-when I reflect on the rectitude and gentleness of his doings, as a ruler in our Israel—when I call to mind that his single object was to advance the power of religion in every part of the land, and to render Methodism its chief blessing, safeguard and glory-when I call to mind his unparalleled pleadings for the thousand charities among us-when I know that he drew over to our society individuals of station and exalted character, that the fame of no other than his name could attract-when I remember that he had set his heart on the conversion of all men, and how dear that object was to his benevolent mind, and how vigorously, and steadfastly, and triumphantly he worked for its accomplishment-when I think how wise, and good, and great he wasand then, when I bethink myself of the melancholy fact, that he has been taken away, hurried away out of the land of the living, and that we shall see his face no more, behold his form, and hear and profit by his discourse no more,-I am amazed and very heavy. When I remember those words that he uttered in the last Conference on the first day," I am the father of the Conference, and you cannot help yourselves," words which are now ringing in my ears and thrilling through my heart-how can I believe that he is gone? And yet, gone, gone, gone from us he is! and I can only exclaim, as Elisha did, when, with sorrow and surprise, he saw Elijah carried from him into heaven, "My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" But I must go on.

In his conduct amongst men he was remarkably plain and manlynatural, simple, honest, ingenuous and unaffected. His conversation was pleasing and lovely, not learned, except when circumstances so combined as to render it a duty to give it that particular character. He never pretended to refinement, though he was eminently affable and polite, and disclosed by his manner the effect of that intercourse which he, more than any other man who ever bore the appellation of Methodist, actually had with what is usually called good society and exalted rank: all who approached him felt the indefinable but irresistible fascination which such intercourse never fails to produce on a nature like his. The excellences of his sentiments were not drawn from exterior embellishments, their character not needing the aid of foreign ornament, but were, "when unadorned, adorned the most." From his extended and unbounded acquaintance with the religious world, and from his access to every walk of life, his information was universal. As his discourse combined the agreeable with the edifying, he was listened to with delight. He was the very reverse of moroseness, as every

body knows; his heart was the region of cheerfulness, and on his tongue was the law of kindness. Warm in his friendships, none could surpass him in sympathy for his afflicted people and suffering friends, or his possession of sentiments of participation in their joys. In fine-the spirit, influence and virtues of Christianity uniformly dif fused over his character a serene splendor-adorned and imbued his whole behavior. His fine intellectual and commanding mien, together with the natural and easy manner, that seemed to pervade him like an atmosphere, were particularly prepossessing and delightful; and perhaps it was impossible for any person, however uninfluenced by religion, to experience disgust or to feel uneasy in his company; for the heart that did not vibrate to his, felt constrained to pay homage to his superior greatness and unaffected goodness.

But you expect me to speak of him as a preacher. On this I am aware some will differ from me. I consider him to have been preeminently great, and that he occupied a field of religious eloquence altogether and exclusively his own. The whole kingdom has acknowledged the sway of his master mind as a teacher of the people. The truths of revelation received a coloring and flew forth from his skilful hands with an energy that secured the attention, admiration and reverence of myriads, and the actual reception and personal belief of thousands. He took up the precious ore as it lay in its original bed; and by such a disposition of its several parts, and such a powerful handling of it, as a whole, compelled myriads to acknowledge its heavenly worth and origin, and to sink, and flinch, and quiver, under its searching power. His manner of preaching was, beyond all comparison, authoritative and forceful; and no one could listen to him without being assured that he was as certain of the truth of what he was enforcing as of his own existence. He spoke in the fulness of his heart, and delivered, with the earnestness of a messenger of God, that which he had received from the Lord Jesus Christ.

There was, in his preaching, not only intellectual perception, but also the power of moral suasion; and his hearers were made sensible of it; they felt that he and his subject were one-that his being was possessed of it-and that it was twined and intertwined, laced and interlaced with the very essence of his nature-that they might cut off his right arm, but that nothing could separate him and his faith. It was this air of authority in which his message was steeped, that made it altogether his own, and perfectly unique. He demonstrated and expounded, perhaps, as much as any uninspired man ever did, how the truth was as it was, and that it could not but be so. He conveyed the knowledge of it and commended the testimony of it to every man's conscience; and with his mighty galvanic battery of logical argumentation, stormed the citadel of many a proud and lofty spirit, and gained a lodgment for the heavenly message. He made the truth flash forth its own evidence; so that you saw its coruscations and felt its weight.

This gave his addresses the momentum, the penetration and the force which it is difficult to describe to one who never heard him, and impossible to conceive.

But, after all, I think it will be admitted, that the great and prominent characteristic of his preaching, was the high degree of unction that generally pervaded it; hence it was that a sermon of Dr. Clarke's was universally looked forward to, by the people, as a feast-a spiritual banquet as food into which, as into that of Elijah, on one occasion, a heavenly seasoning was transfused, so that the receiver could go on in the strength of the meal for many days. It was this that made the word of the Lord so precious. From his lips the gospel came, not distinguished by its authority alone, but also by its fragrance. In fact, to hear the doctor was regarded by multitudes of sensible pious people, as the greatest treat of their lives. Some years since, when coming from the pulpit stairs, after preaching before the Conference, the subject having been the account of Barnabas, Mr. Miller stepped forward, flung his arms round his neck, wept a flood of tears, and said, "Bless you!-you are a man of God, full of faith, and full of the Holy Ghost." We know that by his labors much people were added to the Lord his ministry is thought to have been more successful than that of any of his companions, except Mr. Benson's, and not less than his; and certainly was more successful than that of any minister now living, unless we except the Rev. Rowland Hill, who has had some fifteen years more of public life and labor than he had.

The interest that his visits in any part of the provinces excited was prodigious, and will by and by become incredible. And here it must be sufficient to say, that during the greater part of his life, down to the last closing day, he could, in any city, town, or village in England or Ireland, have filled and crowded the largest chapel, on the morning of any week day of the six: and as to his collections, every body knows there was a marked difference between their amount and those of the most talented and eloquent of his coadjutors.

For several years he has been regarded with far more reverence than is ordinarily felt by a people towards an established and able minister. His high character his extended reputation-his achievement of an elaborate and imperial Commentary on the Holy Scriptures, with the accurate meaning of which it was presumed he was acquainted, above the lot of his own coevals and brethren in general-his venerable, grand and apostolic appearance-the unfaded freshness of mind which he retained through a long life of ministerial greatness-his title to some of the most distinguished honors in the aristocracy of letters-with many other considerations, which I cannot touch upon,-gave to his name, and person, and ministry a popularity whose volume and depth distinguished it from that of any other, even the most acknowledged and distinguished men amongst us.

But he is not merely to be considered as a Methodist, though his