was abundant. His friends here have often been astonished to hear what he daily went through in visiting the sick, in conversing with those under serious impressions; and in attending to the other numerous duties of his office;-all of which he appears to have fulfilled with the pleasure and delight of one who esteemed them more than his daily food. But we need wonder the less at this, when we consider how the great Head of the Church smiled upon his efforts, and rendered them so eminently successful. Success is confessedly a mighty stimulus to exertion;-it fortifies the mind against the fear of probable disappointment, it raises the soul above all difficulties, it chases the lion out of the way, and scatters to the winds the hesitations of flesh and blood. It is true, that we ought not to become weary or faint in our minds, if we have not the tokens for good which we desire; but when the Divine blessing attends our feeble efforts, O how it urges us to press forward in the work of the Lord! departed friend was much stimulated in this way, to Our his works of faith and labours of love. He was the minister of a large church, the greater part of whom were the fruits of his own ministry. He left this country with renovated health, in the Autumn of 1826, and was conducted across the mighty deep by Him who holdeth the winds in his fist, in speed and safety to the bosom of his family and friends. There he entered again with renewed ardour upon his wonted labours; and I had the pleasure of receiving several valuable letters from him, with the manuscript of this volume, which he had prepared for the press, and kindly dedicated to me, and which had its origin in conversations with a friend, while he was in this country. This, I hope, in its present corrected publication, will be a highly gratifying present to his numerous friends on this side of the Atlantic. From my late dear friend I received various accounts of the remarkable revivals of religion in many parts of the United States. Some of these have been inserted in the Congregational Magazine. I was also favoured with some Sermons and other productions of Dr. Henry's pen, which do credit to his understanding and his heart; and I was indulging the hope of being able frequently to benefit the church and the world, by interesting communications of this kind; when, alas! I received the painful intelligence of his death! He "rests from his labours, and his works do follow him." "Be still," saith Jehovah, "and know that I am God." The last letter that he wrote, I am honoured and gratified in finding addressed to myself. It was written two days only before he was taken ill, and is full of tenderness and affection. The Rev. Mr. Gildersleeve kindly enclosed this highly-prized relic in a letter, which I here transcribe. 66 Charleston, South Carolina, November 12, 1827. "Rev. and dear Sir; "You have probably received the melancholy intelligence, that the Rev. T. C. Henry has gone to his rest. He was taken ill on the 1st of October, and died on the 5th. I was with him most of the time during his last illness. The struggle was violent, but brief. His living and dying testimony sweetly har monized, and afforded the most comfortable evidence that God does not forsake his own in the day of trial. I send you herewith a copy of his dying expressions. As you loved him, you will wish to know how triumphantly he departed. The last letter which he wrote was left unsealed on his table, and it was addressed to you. You will esteem it, doubtless, a treasure. His warm heart was in it. Dr. Henry was my class-mate in college; but till recently, we had been separated for about thirteen years. I esteemed him an invaluable friend. There is, dear Sir, a link that binds us together. We had a common friend that is now departed; and I trust we both have a Friend above. You are labouring for Christ. I hope also that I have some desire to serve him. Will you be so kind as to communicate, to some of the most intimate of Dr. Henry's friends, this sad intelligence. I should have written to more of them, but the vessel which carries this is soon to sail, and I am very much occupied. "With sentiments of respect, 66 and christian affection, "I am, yours, &c. "B. GILDERSLEEVE." Dying Expressions of Dr. Henry. "On the evening of Monday, October 1, the day on which he was taken ill, he said to a friend, I know not what the Lord intends; but if my work is done, I shall be glad to go home;' and then repeated the following lines: "Sweet, to rejoice in lively hope, "On Thursday, Mr. Gildersleeve said to him, 'Do you know, my dear brother, that in the opinion of your physician, your case is very critical?' He replied, I think it possible I cannot remain long in this state.' It is more than possible that you will soon be in eternity. How do you regard your prospects for another world?' 'I feel a sweet, composed, delightful calm. I am willing to trust all in the hands of my Redeemer. He is now very gracious to me.' 666 Have you a desire to depart, and be with Jesus?' I cannot say that I have any particular desire one way or the other. If I have a wish, it is on account of my calling, which was, and is not. I am willing to leave myself and all in the hands of God.' Mrs. Henry said to him, ' Can you leave me, and our dear little children, and the church, in his hands?—Yes; I know that he can provide for you all; and I can rely on his promises and his grace; I can leave you all; my work is done.' "Mr. Gildersleeve asked, 'Have you any directions regarding your temporal concerns, or any message to your father?' He replied, 'I wish you to understand, 1st, That I have no anxiety: no-not the least, in the prospect of death.' And then giving some directions as to his temporal concerns; he requested friends to leave the room, that he might say a few parting words to his beloved wife. He afterwards called for his children, addressed some affectionate words to them, and gave them a parting kiss; and soon after remarked, 'I shall soon know more of eternity than I now do. Eternity-there is my exalted, glorious home. Oh, how vain-how triflinghow little does every thing appear in the light of a nearing eternity.' "He then requested Mr. Gildersleeve to offer up prayer; and afterwards said to Mrs. Henry, My dear wife, you will now have to go alone.' Turning to Dr. Palmer, he said, (in allusion to his wife,) 'We have thus far passed through life sweetly together.' To a member of his church, who stood by his bed-side, taking his hand, he said, Our work will soon be done; we shall soon be in eternity. O, be ready for it!' Alluding to his church, he said, ' I have had that church dear to me, very dear; I am afraid I have loved it too much.' He was asked, ' Are you ready to go?' 'I am rejoicing under a merciful Redeemer;--if he call me away, I am safe. I like to have Mary's dependence.' You have chosen the good part.' 'I have.' I have no hope or wish on earth.' 'But you have above,' it was said. "Yes; sweet, sweet. I have not the shadow of a doubt or fear upon my mind. I have not a wish, desire, hope, or thought on earth: they are all above. Nothing can turn my thoughts.' "Dr. Palmer asked him, 'Have you any anxiety in leaving your family.' He answered, 'I have had, but have none now. I can leave them in the Saviour's hands; but for this I should be most miserable.' The church, he feared, would go wrong; but being reminded of the stability of its King, he said, 'Yes, there is safety there.' Some time after |