member of the Reformed Dutch Church, the only society, at that time, in the place where she resided. She was very active as a teacher in the Sabbath school, and always retained the warm affections of her former scholars. Previous to her marriage, and after the second marriage of her father, she was much with the sick, and this, it is thought, did much to impair her health.

In the summer of 1833, at the erection of the Universalist Meeting-House, in Fort Plain, a gentleman fell from the frame, and was so wounded that it terminated in his death. He was a near neighbor to her father, and she was with the family, lending her assistance for several of the last days of his life. He was a warm and exemplary believer in the faith of a world's salvation, and was visited by a Universalist minister from a distance, who was with him when he died, stopped at her father's, and she attended the funeral. This brought her mind, for the first time, in contact with this form of Christian faith, and resulted in her embracing it. had previously known little of this faith, save from those who were unfriendly to it. She had now witnessed its triumph over agony and death, and felt its power of consolation to the bereaved and mourning. Her prejudices were so far removed, that she commenced a private and careful investigation of its evidences. She examined the arguments of its advocates, and laid them before her religious teachers and associates, whom she found unable to answer them satisfactorily, but who warned her to give no heed to them. She next availed herself of the conversation of Universalists, and occasionally attended their meetings. A painful struggle now awaited her, for which she was unprepared. This was the sudden, simultaneous, and almost universal coldness and studied neglect of her brethren and sisters in the church of which she was a member. This she bore, however, with such apparently unsuspecting cheerfulness and kindness, that she finally overcame prejudice with love. And after her marriage, which was in the autumn of 1834, left no further motive for this studied coldness, and her husband settled as pastor of the Universalist Society in that village, the cordiality of her former associates was, in a good degree, resumed and gladly reciprocated on her part. The church of which she was a member, could not, by its usages, grant her an honorable dismission from its fellowship; and the idea of excommunication being unpleasant both to the church and to herself, she continued nominally a member till after the formation of the Universalist Church in Nashua. She then

withdrew from her former connexion, and was received into the church in Nashua three years ago.

She was unfond of religious excitement and public controversy, and of religious disputation in conversational circles, especially among females. To firmness and perseverance, she added evenness and quietness of character, and was never much elated nor depressed by circumstances. Her health had been such, for the greater portion of the time since the birth of her eldest child, that her opportunities for society and for public worship were but small. Yet she was never lonely, but always found enough to interest her in reading and in the affairs of her family. She was brought much lower, to appearance, and suffered more severely a year ago than at the present season. Few persons at that time, save herself and husband, had hopes that she would survive. Yet she revived and was comfortable through the winter. She became convinced, at that time, that disease was upon her which would result in her decease; and during the last two weeks she had impressions that her end was approaching, and made arrangements accordingly. She thought, however, she might be spared a few more weeks, and intended more particularly to converse with her son, and thank her friends, personally, for their unwearied attentions. She retained her sight, and speech, and reason, till within a few moments of her last breath, and smiled expressively upon her husband and her children after her speech had failed, and as her husband whispered in her ear to trust in God." She had much solicitude, till very recently, in regard to leaving her youngest child; but had gradually become more reconciled as she witnessed the interest that her friends manifested in it, and saw that it was happy without her care. She had borne four [living] children, and most faithfully and skillfully nurtured them. Two of them she has left with her companion, and the others went before her. These, she said, were happy without her care, and she had a desire to continue with the others, if it were the will of God. But she had a most cheerful and unshaken trust that the meeting would more than compensate for the temporary separation. Her funeral was attended from the Universalist Church in Nashua, on Sunday afternoon, where a very great concourse of people assembled to testify of their respect for the departed, and to sympathise with our bereaved brother in his great affliction. A discourse was delivered by the writer, from Rom. viii, 20, 21, designed to bring gospel consolation to that large congregation of mourners.

EDITORS' TABLE.

THE SORROW WHICH A GOOD MINISTER FEELS WHEN ANY OF HIS CHARGE FALL A PREY TO SIN.

ONE of the severest trials experienced by the Christian minister is that occasioned by the destruction caused by sin. Notwithstanding all his efforts to prevent its inroads, he is not unfrequently compelled to see some of his most valuable people doomed to ruin. They may be his intimate friends; those with whom he has worshipped for years; with whom he has long walked arm in arm; with whom he has counselled, and labored, and rejoiced. They may be some of the fathers of the society with which he is connected, and who have been pillars, firm and strong, in the temple of religion, for many successive years. They may be fathers in the town or city where he is located, to whose judgment, enterprize, and public spirit, the citizens are greatly indebted for many of those improvements and institutions by which they are blessed. They may be men of learning and talent, who have distinguished themselves upon the bench, at the bar, in the halls of legislation, or some one of the professions. They may be men of genius, whose works are read in every circle, and who hold a rank with those honorable names that grace the fairest page of history. They may be young men of peculiar promise, whose career he has watched from childhood, and whom he has seen with an honest pride, putting forth powers which are equal to the highest station to which a man can be elevated. They may be the youth of his flock, whom he has instructed, and warned, and exhorted, and whom he had hoped would one day become ornaments in society and pillars in the church of God.

Nor is this all. They may sustain the most endearing and tender relations of life, relations inseparably entwined with human happiness. They may be husbands, who have pledged their fidelity and affection to those who have consecrated to them their hearts and lives. And who, O who can tell the bitterness of the wife's cup, and the darkness of her home, when her destiny is united with one who is false to his vows, and gives himself up to the brutalizing effects of sin? Her home is desolate; her heart broken; her hopes crushed; her life a burden. They may be fathers, who have around them children that are bright, sportive, and full of promise, but who, in consequence of their parent's neglect, must endure hunger, and cold, and nakedness; must be

trained in the school of vice and infamy, and left to herd among the besotted and degraded. They may be sons, the pride and hope of fond and doating parents, who are looking forward to the time when their children will fill an honored and useful station in the world; and who are cheered by the belief that the evening of their days will be rendered calm and serene by the care and attention of sons that are faithful and kind. O who can describe the anguish of a heart thus seared and blighted, sinking in grief into the tomb?

Now it is those sustaining such relations as these, that the minister is sometimes called to give up, and give up to all the ruin and degradation of sin! And what is so blighting and destructive? Consider, for a moment, its effect upon the heart. How sad is the change it can work there. Who has not seen persons that were kind, amiable, gentle, and forbearing, become cruel, vindictive, haters of God and man, through the agency of sin? Why, sin can make a brute of the kindest husband on earth, a tyrant of the fondest father, a monster of the most affectionate son, a fiend of the gentlest brother! There is scarcely a wider difference between Milton's fiends of darkness and angels of light, than between the heart before and after it has fallen a prey to sin! Indeed, this immortal bard need not have gone to his imaginary infernal world, to find a being sufficiently malicious to cover earth with darkness and fill it with wo. Man, with a heart full of sin, is ready to trample on all that is dear, and sacred, and calculated to bless the human race! Paul uttered no groundless charge, when he accused one of his times of being full of all subtlety and mischief; a child of the devil; an enemy of all righteousness; a perverter of the right ways of the Lord.

But the effect of sin is not confined to the heart. It can destroy the mind, however great in its native endowments, and rich in its attainments. The world is crowded with instances showing the power of sin to extinguish the light of genius, and crush the human intellect. Look at Byron, who, at the age of twenty-four, was on the highest pinnacle of literary fame, with Scott, Wordsworth, Southey, and a crowd of other distinguished writers beneath his feet. There is scarcely an instance in history of so sudden a rise to so dizzy an eminence. And yet how soon did this great light go out! By plunging into every wild and desperate excess, disease became seated in his system, and while a young man he had all the infirmities of old age! And at thirtysix, enfeebled in mind, he closed his brilliant yet wretched career!

The foregoing considerations do not unfold all the evils of sin. In order to have a distinct view of them, we must consider its power to

destroy the peace and hope of families; to overturn all the institutions of society; to desolate the grandest and mightiest cities, and to spread darkness over the fairest and richest portions of earth. It was sin that destroyed Nineveh, and Babylon, and Thebes, and most of those ruined cities, which were enriched by all the treasures of the East, adorned by magnificent temples and lofty towers. And were sin to exert its full sway upon the wise and equal government under which we live, and which secures to us all the high and blessed privileges we enjoy, not an age would pass away, before that government would be overturned, and our whole country, prosperous and happy as it is, would be involved in perpetual ruin!

Now how can the minister see his people fall a prey to such an evil, one so fatal and terrible, without having his heart filled with sorrow, and anxiously inquiring whether he has been faithful,—whether he has preached as he ought the infinite and everlasting love of God; unfolded that free and impartial grace which brings salvation to all; exhibited that stern justice which metes out to every offender a full and adequate punishment; faithfully warned, reproved, rebuked, and exhorted; shown that deep concern and unaffected sincerity which alone can render the labors of any man effectual, and always represented religion as a source of cheering and all-pervading light, beautifying the earth, dispelling the clouds of despondency, and inspiring hopes over which death itself has no power? Can he see them thus fall, without asking whether he has followed up as he ought the solemn instructions of the pulpit, by private appeals and entreaties, reasonings and expostulations?

BIOGRAPHY OF REV. W. H. GRISWOLD.

This is an 18mo. of 102 pages, from the pen of Br. H. B. Soule, published by A. Walker, Utica, N. Y. We have read the work with high satisfaction. It is written in a candid spirit, and in a chaste and easy style. We see no evidence of a desire to make a prodigy of the subject of the Memoir. Br. Griswold was a young man of superior mind, of good attainments, and industrious habits; and when we consider the feeble state of his health, we can but wonder that he should have accomplished so much. His traits of character, his habits as a student and a preacher, his course as a Christian, and his submission to disappointments and trials, are all faithfully portrayed, and with a truthfulness that must cause every acquaintance of the deceased to say,-" The biography is a true portraiture of the man,-it exhibits him exactly as