FROM THE REV. HOLLIS READ TO MISS GRIFFIN.

MY DEAR MISS GRIFFIN,

Babylon, Nov. 13th, 1837.

The Newark Daily Advertiser, announcing the death of your dear and venerated father, has this moment reached me. The first impulse of my heart-that ever beat with love and gratitude to that ever-blessed, but now glorified saint, and with the most tender and respectful affection for his family, is to beg the privilege and honor of mingling my tears with yours on this mournful occasion. But how mournful? I mourn for myself that I have lost so valuable a counsellor, and so dear a father and friend. I mourn for you, dear sister, and for all those to whom he was so justly dear and valued. I mourn for the church of Christ and for this dark world, because another bright and shining light has sunk below our horizon. But here my mourning stops. My tears dry. I look up and see that innumerable throng around the throne. I listen-a new harp is strung. A new voice is heard. Its infant notes are distinguished amidst the countless host. They mingle with the harmonious sounds of the ten thousand times ten thousand in the New Jerusalem. It is the voice of our father. Yes, of our father. I am the son of the travail of his soul. He has entered "the gates of pearl." He walks the golden streets. He finds peace within its jasper walls-rest on its "precious" foundations. Though the mortal part slumbereth in the dark grave, yet slumbereth not the spirit. He hath no need of the sun to shine upon it, for the glory of the Lord enlighteneth it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.

Heaven

Thanks then to God that he has gone before us. is now nearer, dearer, sweeter. Is it not pleasant to think that our dear father waits to receive and welcome us? He has taught us here how to sing the song of redeeming love. And now, since he has gone to take lessons at the feet of infinite Perfection, may he not there again teach our unfledged souls to soar and sing and praise him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood?

Happy, happy saint! We love to follow him. We love to Vol. I.

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listen to the sweet sound of his heavenly music now. We love to look back and recall the past. What scenes with us

are associated with one period of his ministry! We love to contemplate him now so soon reunited in the bonds of everlasting love, to your dear mother; forever joined in holy activity and ceaseless praise with "heaven's best gift" in his earthly pilgrimage.

But hark! there comes another sound from those once loved and always revered lips. It is a sound of warning, of fear and trembling, for his spiritual sons and daughters. It comes to me; to you; to all who stand in this endeared relation. It says, "beware"-"watch"-" strive "-"fear lest a promise being left-some of you should come short of it."

But I must close. Accept my most heart-felt condolence in this hour of severe bereavement. Your tears will flow. It is nature. It is right. You know the Mourner's Friend. Your Redeemer liveth. May he be found a ready help.

Mrs. Read unites with me in hearty sympathy and affectionate regards to yourself and Dr. and Mrs. Smith. I beg they will receive this humble token of condolence and affection equally with yourself.

Yours very affectionately,

H. READ.

FROM THE REV. DOCTOR HUMPHREY TO DR. GRIFFIN'S

CHILDREN.

Amherst College, Nov. 13th, 1837.

MY AFFLICTED Friends,

The southern mail, last evening, brought us the intelligence that your revered and honored father has fallen asleep! Soon, but not too soon for him, has he followed your beloved mother, as we confidently believe, to her eternal rest. The news was not so unexpected as to be surprising; for when I saw him at the meeting of the American Board, his hold on life appeared too feeble to last long. I have known Dr. Griffin for about forty years, and have always regarded him as one of the most eloquent, pungent, and useful preachers, that

I ever heard. There was a melody, a solemnity, a charm in his voice, during all the prime of his ministry, and even up to the age of sixty, which always struck strangers as very remarkable, and what was of infinitely greater importance, he dealt so faithfully with the conscience, that few could go away so much admiring the preacher as to forget themselves.

His natural talents were certainly of a high order. His mind, if not quite so rapid in its movements as some others, was highly discriminating. He could grasp a difficult subject with much apparent ease, and hold it at his pleasure. He saw the relations and differences of things, with uncommon perspicuity; and what he saw clearly himself, he knew how to present in a strong light to other minds. Of this there are many fine examples in his Park-street Lectures-a book by the way, which will go down to posterity.

To say nothing of the eminent services which he rendered to religion and learning, in other stations, few ministers of the age, I believe, have been instrumental of awakening and saving more souls than Dr. Griffin. How will his crown of rejoicing sparkle with gems in the day of the Lord Jesus! Though he spent more time in several other places than in Boston, I have always been impressed with the belief, that his pre-eminent usefulness was on that ground. When he went there, the piety of the pilgrim fathers had nearly ceased to warm the bosoms of their descendants. Calvinism was a byeword and reproach. Orthodoxy hardly dared to show its head in any of the Congregational pulpits. It wanted a strong arm to hold up the standard of the cross, a strong voice to cry in the ears of the people, and a bold heart to encounter the scorn and the talent that were arrayed against him. And nobly, in the fear and strength of the Lord, did he "quit himself."

Nothing was more striking in his character, than the high ground which he always took in exhibiting the offensive doctrines of the gospel, particularly divine sovereignty, election, the total depravity of the natural heart, and the necessity of regeneration. These doctrines he exhibited with great clearness and power, before friends and enemies. The crisis re

quired just such a master-spirit, and Boston felt his power; or rather felt the power of God, which I must think wrought in him mightily during his short ministry in Park-street. From the time of his going there, orthodoxy began to revive; and we all know how many flourishing churches have, as it were, sprung from that one stock.

With your thrice honored father God was every thing, and man was nothing. He wanted to see every body lying at the footstool with perfect submission to the divine will, putting a blank into God's hands, to be filled up just according to his infinite wisdom and pleasure; and there he loved to lie himself. This was the theme of his remarks when I saw him at your house, a few weeks ago. He seemed fully resolved, that if ever he was saved, God should have all the glory of it— that if he went to heaven, he would go there to sing redeeming love. Never shall we forget either his address, or his prayer, on the last forenoon of our session in your church. Both were close on the verge of heaven! And how exquisitely did he enjoy the hymns of praise in your family circle on the evening of the sabbath when I saw him last.

Most sincerely do I sympathize with you in your afflictions, and rejoice with you too, in the bright hopes which shine upon the path of your sorrows. May the Lord bless and sanctify you; and may you ever be followers of those, who through faith and patience inherit the promises!

I am, very sincerely, your friend,

H. HUMPHREY.

The following letter from the Rev. Dr. BURDER of London, shows in what estimation Dr. GRIFFIN's character was held abroad.

REV. AND DEAR SIR,

Hackney, June 7th, 1831.

It cannot but be gratifying to me to have an opportunity of addressing a few lines to you, under circumstances which shelter me from the charge of being obtrusive. A few days

ago I had the honor of receiving the diploma which bears your signature; and in my view, if the entire value of that document were derived from that revered name, it would be entitled to warmer acknowledgments than my words can convey. I feel, however, greatly indebted to every member of the "Senatus Academicus," as well as to their honored President, for the degree which has been conferred in a manner so kind, and handsome, and indulgent. To you, my Dear Sir, and to the learned body over which you preside, I owe, in some respects, even a greater debt of gratitude than to the University of Glasgow, where I pursued my studies, whose kindness has conferred a similar honor. May I become less unworthy of a distinction which I could never have presumed to solicit!

Through the kindness of our mutual friend, Dr. S., I have had the pleasure of cultivating that kind of acquaintance with you, my Dear Sir, which is rendered practicable by the press. To many of the habitual and powerful workings of your mind I am no stranger. You have assisted me in my feeble efforts to seek a "Heavenly mind." Your Park-st. lectures have given many a vigorous impulse to my thoughts on the great things of God; and this very morning I have perused, with no ordinary emotions, your Murray-st. discourse on "glorying in the Lord." May those energies of intellect which the Father of spirits has awakened and consecrated, long be continued, in unimpaired power, for a blessing to America, to Britain, to the world.

I am beyond expression interested and impressed by the intelligence I have received in reference to the present revivals of religion in your happy and honored country. Oh what a day of glory has dawned upon your churches! Did my family (of four children, now motherless,) and my flock permit, how enraptured I should be to cross the ocean and mingle with you in your joys and thanksgivings and supplications. Oh pray, my Dear Sir, for us, that the blessed influences of the Holy One may thus descend upon the land of your fathers!