already occupied by a person asleep. I relieved myself of my upper garments, and laid myself down in my weariness to rest. The other beds soon got filled. But still the brethren were coming to seek accommodation. One of them crept up by the side of the person next to me; and as the bed would only suit one, he really lay on the margin of his and mine. Thus discomposed, my resolution was immediately taken not to sleep at all. There was, however, no need of this proud resolution, for that night there was to be no sleep for me. There were still other parties to come, and beds to be provided. After this there was the singing renewed, and still renewed, till youth and enthusiasm were faint and weary, and then it died away. Still there remained the barking of the watch-dogs, the sawing of the kat-e-dids and locusts, and the snoring of my more favored companions, and these were incessant. Sometimes I found diversion in listening to them, as they mingled in the ear, and in deciding which was most musical, most melancholy; and frequently I turned away in weariness, and fixed my eye on the open crevices of the hut, looking for the first approach of day; and, in my impatience, as often mistaking for it the gleaming lights of the pine fires.

When the sun actually rose, the horn blew for prayers. To me, all restless as I had been, it was a joyful sound. I waited till others had dressed, that I might do so with greater quiet. I stole away into the forest, and was much refreshed by the morning breeze and fresh air. It was a very pleasing and unexpected sight to observe, as you wandered in supposed solitariness, here and there an individual half concealed, with raised countenance and hands, worshipping the God of heaven, and occasionally two or three assembled for the same purpose, and agreeing to ask the same blessings from the same Father. This was, indeed, to people the forest with sacred things and associations.

On my return, the ministers renewed their kind application to me to preach on the morning of this day. I begged to be excused, as I had had no rest, and had taken cold, and was not prepared to commit myself to the peculiarities of their service, and which they might deem essential. They met again: and unanimously agreed to press it on me; "it should be the ordinary service, and nothing more; and as an expectation had been created by my presence, many would come, under its influence, and it would place any other minister at great disadvantage." My heart was with this people and the leading pastors, and I consented to preach.

withdraw my sanction from any thing noisy and exclamatory; and there was, through the discourse, nothing of the kind; but there was a growing attention and stillness over the people. The closing statements and appeals were evidently falling on the conscience and heart, with still advancing power. The people generally leaned forward, to catch what was said. Many rose from their seats; and many, stirred with grief, sunk down, as if to hide themselves from observation; but all was perfectly still. Silently the tear fell; and silently the sinner shuddered. I ceased. Nobody moved. I looked round to the ministers for some one to give out a hymn. No one looked at me-no one moved. Every moment, the silence, the stillness, became more solemn and overpowering. Now, here and there, might be heard suppressed sobbing arising on the silence. But it could be suppressed no longer-the fountains of feeling were burst open, and one universal wail sprung from the people and ministers, while the whole mass sunk down on their knees, as if imploring some one to pray. I stood resting on the desk, overwhelmed like the people. The presiding pastor arose, and, throwing his arms round my neck, exclaimed, "Pray, brother, pray! I fear many of my charge will be found at the left hand of the Judge! Oh, pray, brother, pray for us!" and then he cast himself on the floor with his brethren, to join in the prayer. But I could not pray! Í must have been more or less than man to have uttered prayer at that moment! Nor was it neces sary. All, in that hour, were intercessors with God, with tears, and cries, and groans unutterable.

So soon as I could command my state of feeling, I tried to offer prayer. My broken voice rose gradually on the troubled cries of the people, and gradually they subsided, so that they could hear and concur in the common supplications. It ceased, and the people rose. We seemed a changed people to each other. No one appeared disposed to move from the spot, and yet no one seemed disposed for ordinary exercises. Elder Taylor moved forward and remarked-" That it was evident nothing but prayer suited them at this time. And as so many had been impressed by the truth, who had not be fore, he wished, if they were willing, to bring it to the test of prayer." He therefore proposed that if such persons wished to acknowledge the impression received, and to join in prayer for their personal salvation, they should show it by kneeling down, and he would pray with them. In an instant, as if instinct with one spirit, the whole congregation sunk down to the ground. It is much, but not too much, to say, that the prayer met the occasion. When the people again rose, one of the brethren was about to address them; but I thought nothing could be so salutary to them as their own reflections and prayers, and I ventured to request that he would dismiss the meeting.

third of the people had been present at none other. I shall never forget that time-that place; and as often as I recur to it, the tear is still ready to start from its retirement.

The immediate effect was as good as it was conspicuous. At first there was such tenderness on the people that they looked silently on each other, and could hardly do it without weeping; and afterward, when they had obtained more self-possession, there was such meekness, such gentleness, such hu

mility, such kindness, such a desire to serve one another by love, and such calm and holy joy sitting on their countenances, as I had never seen in one place, and by so many persons. It realized, more than any thing I had known, the historical description of the primitive saints; and there was much in the present circumstances which assisted the impression. It was indeed beautifully true-"that fear came on every soul; and all that believed were together, and had all things common; and they continued with one accord, breaking bread from house to house; and did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God!"

Besides this happy effect on those who had already Delieved, there were many in an awakened and inquiring state which demanded attention. Among hem was a representative of the State Government, who acknowledged that he had always resisted the truth till then, but hoped it had overcome him at last. Some of these cases, of course, came under my own knowledge; and all the ministers showed them, as, indeed, they had uniformly done, great attention and solicitude.

Among other expressions of kind and gentle feeling to myself, it was deemed impossible to let me remain another night in the tents, since I had not been able to procure rest. Many were eager that I should be received at their dwelling; but in the end I engaged to go with Deacon Norris, as it was at no great distance from the camp, and as the simple piety and warm heart of this aged and venerable man had previously won my confidence.

I had agreed to go after the evening service; but my considerate friend endeavored to persuade me to go before, by representing that I must need rest, and that it would not be so safe to track their way through the dark woods after sundown. I felt that it would be less suitable to his age to be exposed so late and in the dark, and so consented to do as he should suggest.

So, after taking repast, and joining in prayer with a cluster of our friends beneath a leafy alcove at the back of one of the tents, we started for Deacon Norris's residence. His lad drove me in a chaise, while he rode behind with a parent's care, to see that all was done well. He exchanged pleasant words with me as occasion allowed, and ever and anon was giving his cautions to the driver:-"Now, boy, mind those stumps-take care of those roots-keep a tight rein here"-and the whole was done in evident and unaffected reference to me. When we alighted, be received me to his house with that simplicity and kindness which are the essence of all true politeness. He took my hand, and with a beaming face and tearful eye, he said, "Now, sir, this is your home while you stay, and the longer you stay the more I shall be honored. A plain place, but all of it, servants, house, garden, is yours. Only make me happy by letting me know what you want." I had small reply to offer. All this was said in the deep and wild forest, and the manner and expression would not have dishonored St. James's; it affected me with tenderness and surprise.

While this occurred, we were standing on the verdant sod which surrounded the cottage, and was not worn off even by the passage to the door. The day had been hot, and we had been heated, and the temptation was to enjoy the evening breeze. My friend's cottage was a frame-building, whitened, well suited to the occupant, and to the spot where it stood. It had neither bolt nor lock to anv one of its doors that I could find. About 100 yards on the descent stood a hut, in which his slaves were accommodated, and the interval was covered with short grass, kept cool and verdant by the fine separated trees which overshadowed most of it. On the

Number 21.

other side of the cottage was a garden abounding in fruits for the little family. The ground fell off very pleasantly from the spot where you stood, so as to give you the command of the scene, and to compose a beautiful prospect. Most of the land in one direction was the domain of my friend; the portion near you being adorned with Indian corn, and the distant parts clothed with the dark and solemn pine.

When I had explored the garden and fields, my friend arranged a little table and stools at the door of the cottage, and before the best part of the prospect, for our accommodation. Here we were supplied with plates, and a fine melon from the garden for our repast; and it was not till the last lingering lights of a glowing day had faded away behind the pine barrens that we ceased to commune with Nature and with each other.

In this communion my friend was the chief contributor. He spoke in the fulness of his heart; and the impression will, I trust, long remain with me. He told me of his early days, of his conversion, and of the many years he had been as a pilgrim and a stranger on the earth. He had been married twice; he lost his last wife seven years since; and his children were settled far from him. "Many expected," he said, “as I was living alone, that should marry again. But no, sir; at my time of life I think it not good. The husband careth for the things of the wife; but I wish now to care for the things of the Lord. My great concern is that I may do the will of the Lord, and look to my latter end with peace and pleasure. I would desire to die and to be with Christ as far better; but if he should say, Here, I have a little more for you to do on earth, then I would willingly stay and do it.

Then," he continued, after musing, "I am old, but I suffer nothing, and I have many comforts, and I thank God I can enjoy them. But," with a serene smile, "I am looking for something better;earth will not do this is not heaven! I am far from God here; and I have sin always with me here to distress and expose me; but when He shall appear, I shall be like him, for I shall see him as he is!" So he continued, and so was I privileged and refreshed.

.

We retired within the cottage; the slaves, which he treated just as his children, were called in, and we had family worship. I pressed him to engage as usual; and was richly repaid. It was prayer winged with love and thankfulness, and rising to heaven. It brought us closer to each other. After our devotions, rest was thought of; for these children of Nature retire and rise with the day. He had provided for my accommodation in his own room; and when every thing had been done as he directed, he went to see with his own eyes that all was right. He attended me to it, and again inquired, and looked about to know if more could be done for my comfort.

He had not been long out, when he craved permission to come in again. He had an affectionate manner, and said, "Well, now there is still one thing which I was charged to say to you, and which I must say to you before I can sleep."-" What is that ?" I inquired " 'Why," he said, "I have been now in the way forty-seven years-I have seen many powerful meetings in my time-but never any thing like this morning-all, ministers and allweeping like children-and-now don't say noand we all want you to preach again to-morrow.""O, my good friend," I replied, "You really must not make that a request. I have taken my leave, and I have lost my voice by cold, and there are other preachers expecting-." He drew nearer to me, and checking me as he would his son, he said, "Well, now, my child, don't say you will not-and

VOL. II.

we'll trust to have you well and willing by to-morrow morning. Is there any thing more I can do for you?" and then he retired and drew to the door. This was not the last visit that evening from my devoted friend. When he thought me composed in bed, the door gently opened, he drew together a window which was slightly open, and which he thought better shut, he crept to my side, and thought me asleep; and with the affectionate attentions of a woman, tucked me in, and whispered the words, "Bless him!" as he left me. At least, he was blessed that night in the generous and holy sentiments which possessed him.

I slept peacefully and soundly that night, till I was wakened by the foot-tread of the slave who waited on me. We took breakfast early, and worshipped together, and then went to the camp-ground. Here the subject of preaching was renewed, as it had been by my kind host on our way. But as Dr. Rice had just arrived, and was expected to preach, I was strengthened in my resolution to remain silent. I attended the service, but did not again occupy the stand. I felt as if I could not look on that people for the last time, and command my emotions. When it was closed, I had some confidential conversation with Mr. Jeter. As the hour of my departure pressed, I took hasty refreshments; and begged to meet with the brethren in a final act of prayer. We all knelt-joined in one prayerin one spirit-a prayer often too big for utterance, but always apprehended by sympathy. It is not for description.

The carriage waited for us. I entered it. Still we knew not how to go on; and the friends clustered round it as though they would prevent it. There were many spectators whom I did not know, but who were all interested. There were the brethren with whom I had had sweet fellowship. And there, nearest of all, was my friend, Deacon Norris, true to the last. His first office was to deposite two fine melons in the carriage; and his next, to discharge the painful one of saying "Farewell." He took my hand in both his; looked up into my face with sorrow-spoke not a word-while the big tear started in his eye, and coursed down his furrowed cheeks. And so we left him-and so we left them-still gazing on us to the end. For myself, I left the place as a place where God had been; and the people, as a people which God had blessed!

LETTER XVIII.

MY DEAR FRIEND-The interest which, I doubt not, you have felt in the previous account of the meeting, will dispose you to inquire how it terminated. I am happy to be able, by a subsequent communication, to satisfy your wishes. My esteemed friend, Mr. Jeter, assures me that the seriousness and tenderness of the people remained to the last; and disclosed themselves in very affecting forms on parting. He thus writes:-"On Thursday morning our meeting closed. Eternity alone can disclose the results. We have ascertained that between sixty and seventy professed conversion. With many of these I am personally acquainted; and I have every reason that can be furnished to regard them as sincere lovers of our Saviour Jesus Christ. The influence of the meeting on the community is regarded as of the most delightful and elevated kind. Infidelity has been compelled to shut her mouth; and vile blasphemers to acknowledge the hand of God!"

Thus, then, I was supplied, at once, with a specimen of the three great religious peculiarities of this country; a camp-meeting, a protracted meeting, and

a revival; for they were all included in this meeting. Of what it has in common with other special meetings I shall speak elsewhere; but of what was peeuliar to it, it may be desirable to offer a few remarks.

From all I have learned of camp-meetings, I may pronounce this to have been very well conducted. The existing arrangements were such as to contribute to this. The land on which it was held was purchased as a permanent station; and the lands around were held by persons friendly to the object, so that they could control riotous and intrusive conduct, if it should appear. The tents remained from season to season, and cost the owners about ten dollars each; and if it happened that the possessor could not attend, he lent his tent to a friend. The poorer or less interested persons came in carriages, or tilted light wagons, which they used as beds. Separate committees were appointed to preserve order; to superintend the lights and fires; to regulate the use of the water-springs; and to arrange for the religious services. For the last purpose, the ministers present were the standing committee. By these means, and means such as these, strict order was kept on the premises; and the temptation for the disorderly was cut off. I saw nothing the whole time of indecent behavior, though many persons came evidently more from curiosity than from higher motives. With the single exception I have named, I saw not an intemperate person; nor did I see either wine or spirits on the ground. There was a man about half a mile distant, who had made a venture with a couple of barrels of distilled liquor; but it must have been a bad speculation, for I never observed a single person near him.

Spiritual intemperance, too, which is often a far greater evil on these occasions, was kept down by the good sense and right feeling of the leading ministers. On the merits of the particular methods I do not now speak; but, if they were to be adopted, I know not that they could have been used with more moderation or better effect. That the anxious seat was too often tried; that there was a disposition sometimes to press it as a test; that the act of passing among the people for the purpose of personal persuasion had better have been avoided; and that the ministers had done well if they had limited the services, and especially the continued singing, by which many young persons were doing themselves a double mischief;-are opinions which I shall appear to have adopted in the preceding statement, and opinions which ought to be expressed to make it impartial and discriminative. But as a whole, I never expect to meet with three men who in such circumstances are more wisely disposed to pursue the good, and to avoid the incidental eva, than were those on whom rested the chief responsibility of the meeting. None of their appeals were to blind or selfish passion. They assailed the heart, indeed; but it was always through the understanding. They relied not on manoeuvre nor on sympathy for success; they trusted in the light of Truth, clothed by the power of the Spirit, to set the people free, that they might be free indeed!

It is a question often propounded in America, as well as here--Of what use are camp-meetings? This is one of those questions which must be answered in submission to circumstances. There may be a state of things in which I should consider them as not only among the things useful, but the things necessary. In the newly settled parts, where the inhabitants are so few, and are scattered over so large a surface, the ordinary means of worship and instruction can for a time hardly be enjoyed; and, in this interval, the camp-meeting seems an excellent device for the gathering of the people. Under such circumstances, the very fact of their being

What an apposition between deeds and names in this instance. "The house is white;" alas, that it should be the only white thing in the business!

When returning from an excursion in the town and some needful calls, I found a church open and lighted. I desired to close the day in a quiet act of worship, and went in. My wishes were but poorly gratified; but the service was somewhat remarkable, and even more amusing than I desired. It was a Methodist Church, of full size and commodious. There were not 100 persons present; and the preacher, in both exercises, was feeble, and noisy, with good intentions. I was surprised to find more of the peculiarities of this people here, in the Monumental City, than are sometimes to be found in a sequestered village. There were not only interruptions and exclamations in prayer, but in singing and in the sermon also. With many, it was a sort of chorus taken together; but there was one reverend old man, certainly a leader among them, who spurned association, and literally kept up a sort of recitative with the preacher. The following is an instance, which I could not help preserving that night.

Having passed through the explanatory portion of his discourse, the preacher paused, and then said:

Preacher. "The duty here inferred is, to deny ourselves."

MY DEAR FRIEND-On the next morning early 1 left for Philadelphia. I found a gentleman on board who had crossed the Atlantic with us; and had pleasant conversation with him. I noticed to him the heavy fog which hung over the town and the waters. He remarked that it was somewhat common at this period of the year; and that the banks of the river, though very beautiful and inviting for a residence, were unhealthy and dangerous.

There was strong opposition on these waters between the steamboats; and we made a rapid and pleasant run to Philadelphia. Here I naturally sought for Dr. Ely; his family were residing in the country, but I happened to find him in town.-Through him, too, I met with Mr. Matheson, who had returned from Pennsylvania, and was seeking me. He had been on to New-York, and brought me packets of letters, which had been long due; and which were like water to the thirsty ground. I had not received a foreign letter since the day I left Buffalo; and this was really to be placed among my greatest privations.

On the following morning we went on to Princeton, that we might spend the Sabbath there. We were to have been received at Judge Byard's; but found sickness in his family. Dr. Rice, who also expected us, gave us a cordial welcome. We felt the more at home, as we had known each other through his brother, who was my friend and correspondent. It was no sooner known that we had arrived, than Professors Alexander, Miller, and Dodd, with other friends, very obligingly called on us; and throughout our short stay, showed us the kindest attentions.

On the morning of the Sabbath I worshipped at the Theological Institution, and Mr. Matheson preached for Dr. Rice. I understood that Dr. Alex

Elder. "Ah, indeed, Lord, it is!" Preacher. "The very reverse of what God would have us be!"

Elder. "God Almighty knows it's true!" Preacher. "How necessary, then, that God should call on us to renounce every thing!"

Elder. "God help us!"

Preacher. "Is it necessary for me to say more?" Elder. "No, oh no!"

Preacher. "Have I not said enough?" Elder. "Oh yes-quite enough!" Preacher. "I rejoice that God calls me to give up every thing!"

Elder. (clasping his hands.) "Yes, Lord, I would let it all go!"

Preacher. "You must give up all.”

Elder. "Yes-all!"

Preacher. "Your pride!"

Elder. "My pride!"

Preacher. "Your envy!"

Elder. "My envy!"

Preacher. "Your covetousness!"

Elder. "My covetousness!"
Preacher. "Your anger!"
Elder. "Yes, my anger!"

teemed as a preacher, and I was desirous of hearing him. The service was in the lecture-room; there were from eighty to one hundred young men present. It was an interesting occasion. I was glad to worship with a body of pious youth, who were devoted to the ministration of the word of life; and to have that worship led by so good and competent a man as their revered tutor.

I had declined preaching in the morning, on condition of occupying the pulpit in Dr. Rice's church at night. In the evening, therefore, I walked abroad in the fields to meditate. In my way I passed by a number of cottages, tenanted by colored people. The doors and windows were all open. In one of them, the father, with his wife and children sitting around him, was reading with broken utterance, as if learning to read, by reading. I was desirous of ascertaining what he was reading; and, as I passed slowly along, I heard him utter the words-"Show us the Father, and it sufficeth us." I scarcely know how it was, but the words from those lips were very touching. The old man seemed like the representative of his oppressed race, craving, in the midst of their wrongs, only one thing, and that the noblest. My thoughts glanced spontaneously to Him who is the common Father of us all; and I could