welfare. To this, I have been under the most sacred obligations; yet I hope I have done it, not by constraint only, but of a willing mind. And now, while by the righteous providence of God, I am far from you, it is not possible, that the habit of my mind should be changed, or that I should think of you without the tenderest regard, and the deepest solicitude.

"When the sabbath dawns upon me, fondly do I wish, that the day might be spent in the midst of that loved assembly, I have so often addressed on those subjects, which constitute the unsearchable riches of Christ. Gladly would I lead you to the throne of mercy, and join with heart and voice in your songs of praise, which seem uttered with a sweeter accent than I hear among strangers of any other assembly. But it must not be ; seas roll between us, and I can only bear my beloved people on my heart to God in secret.

*

* *

And let me beseech you, my dear friends, to improve the

means of grace which Providence sends you in my ab

sence; to be constant in the house of God, in the hours of worship and instruction, and to engage in the duties of the day and place, as those who have souls to be saved or lost. If thus you improve the season of my absence, God may restore me to you in health, and cause me to return in the fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of Christ, and renew those seasons of mercy, when converts are multiplied as the drops of morning dew.

It gives me pleasure to inform you, that God has dealt very mercifully with me ever since I left the shores of New-England. * We passed safely

* *

* * *

with favouring gales along that dangerous coast which, in July last, was strewed with wrecks; a fearful monument of the tempest being still visible as we passed. Arriving in safety at our desired haven, I was immediately greeted with the hospitality of new friends, as well as old, in this city, so far famed and so justly, for its kindness to the stranger and invalid. Every thing is arranged in the best manner to attain the important object of coming. I find the weather, however, to be more changeable than formerly, and the dust of the dry and sandy streets unfriendly. I shall probably spend some time with a friend in the country. I trust a slow and gentle progress towards health is perceptible. In the best weather I cough little; in unfavourable weather I am still painfully exercised. This circumstance has led me to think seriously of a still better climate in Cuba. After some delay, to give a fair trial of the climate, which benefited me so much on a former occasion, if it does not fully answer my ex*pectations, I shall cheerfully follow the leadings of a kind Providence, and go to a still milder and less variable clime. Since I have been in this city, it has been painful to witness the desolations of death, since I was here before, and especially in the course of the last summer. My visits have been generally those of sympathy and condolence; and often have I been met with tears of speechless emotion by the surviving members of families which I left full and happy, now robbed by death of half their number. * * ** The sickness in this city has been very extensive, and has prevailed in parts,

hitherto considered as refuges from danger. Two thousand persons have been sick at once; but God has softened the calamity beyond former example. The fever has been of a milder type, or has more readily yielded to remedies, so that the victims have not been in proportion to the subjects. Yet, my dear friends, how much more gently have we been chastened in our comparatively healthy village! How many of our families have been preserved from death the nine years, in which I find so much desolation to have taken place in families here very dear to me; yet every season has been marked with distressing bereavement among you, and many have been called away in the bloom of life, generally lamented, and losses irreparable to their immediate families. Let these solemn facts deeply impress our minds. A few years more will effect great changes in our families;—some of us shall have gone to our great account and to our eternal retribution; others will remain a little longer, to lament the loss, and prepare to follow us, or perhaps to continue their follies and to be surprised in unpreparedness at last. But God forbid, that any of us should waste the fleeting moments of life in merely worldly care or sinful pleasures, while the soul is left in danger, and the joys of heaven neglected or forfeited. You know not from what an anxious heart these thoughts are springing. It grieves me to think, that I cannot from sabbath to sabbath press upon your minds the things of your peace. Let not the feeble efforts of a letter be lost; it goes from the heart, may it reach the hearts of that dear as

sembly, whose everlasting happiness is the fondest wish and continual prayer of their absent pastor. My thoughts continually visit you: they range from house to house, and from street to street, and from the centre to the borders, and even the most distant family, which God has visited with great and repeated afflictions. I have the sick in earnest and devout remembrance, and should esteem it a high privilege if I could sit by their beds of languishing, and aid their last exercises, and fervently commend them to the divine mercy, and direct them to that compassionate Being, who breaks not the bruised reed, nor quenches the smoking flax, but with open arms invites the weary and heavy laden to him for everlasting rest.

"You will indulge me to hope for a remembrance in your prayers. In concluding this brief epistle, I give you the words of the apostle :

66

Finally, brethren, farewell; be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you.

"Your affectionate and devoted pastor.

A. ABBOT."

The winter at Charleston was uncommonly mild, and the state of his health enabled him often to aid the labours of the pastor of a society, to whose opinions his own were most congenial, and to gratify his curiosity by attention to objects of interest in the city. In the beginning of December, when the heat and sands of the city interrupted his accustomed exercise, and the frequent testimonials of affectionate hospitality required

exertions to which his health was inadequate, he was induced to embrace an early tendered invitation of Mr. L. to resume a residence in his affectionate and hospitable family on John's Island. Here, in the bosom of affectionate friendship, he experienced every attention, which could relieve the pain of absence from his family and flock, and contribute to his personal comfort and the recovery of his health. The space of a month was passed in this delightful retreat, when a change in the season, and the prevalence of cold winds on the island determined his resolution of embarking for Cuba.

On the eve of embarking, he thus writes to his family ;--"Yesterday I received your delightful and most unexpected letter. How good is God, to preserve us at home and far away in health; for so I may now almost say of myself. I have a little cough, as you know I used to have before April last. In good weather it is little or no trouble." "I am cheerful, and I hope grateful.

tanzas."

*

*

I expect to sail tomorrow for Ma

He sailed on Feb. 9. In a letter from sea he writes, "There is a new sky over me. The clouds seem differently formed, and of a more watery aspect than I have been wont to see. Much alarm was excited during the passage by a perilous incident. At midnight the whirl of a water-spout passed so near the vessel, as to fill the sails in a contrary direction, and broke so near, as either directly, or by'a rebound from the ocean, to drench with a portion of its water the deck. On the morning of the sixteenth, the high hills of Cuba