us in trouble. And whilst we listen to these notions, or rather motions of the spirit within us, we hear this testimony often and distinctly. But when we give ear to the motions of the evil spirit, and entertain him, and delight in his insinuations, and thereby grieve and despite the spirit of grace; he being thus grieved by us, speaketh no more words of comfort in us, but withdraws his gracious presence, and leaveth us in horror of conscience, and darkness of mind." It is not unlikely that these divines were assisted by such passages as Psalm, xxv. 14.-Galatians, iv. 6.1 Corinthians, ii. 9—12, and Romans, viii. 16; but, that doctrinal clearness, in reference to these Scriptures, does not stand independently of personal experience, is evident; for there are many preachers of the gospel in this country, who positively deny that any man can know his sins forgiven in this life. On the day that satan was bruised under my feet, another most comfortable home was opened for me at the house of Mr. Samuel M'Comas, Lower Abbey street, where I have remained ever since. I trust you will remember at the throne of grace these precious friends, who have been kind beyond any thing I can express. At the house of Mr. Fielding, in Greek street, I also received great kindness. I do know they shall be rewarded at the resurrection of the just. Pardon this long digression: my heart has been so full of gratitude to God for his delivering grace, and the recollection of past conflicts so vivid, that when I began to write I knew not where to stop. When the Rev. Thomas Waugh, the superintendent of this circuit, returned from England, he was made acquainted with the amazing work of God going He immediately sanctioned my movements; placed the fullest confidence in me, and told me to go on in my own way. From then, till now, he has been ever ready to open any door of usefulness to me on. within his power; I thank God for such a friend. This long communication, which I know will rejoice your heart, as well as many of my other dear friends in America, I must now close. The revival is going on in another chapel with great power. Between two and three hundred sinners have been converted to God. Glory, eternal glory be to that God, who— "*** moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform;" and who, adored be his name, can, "Though hell weave snares a thousand ways, My friends may make themselves perfectly easy respecting my temporal circumstances; I have all and abound. The Dublin people are proverbial for their hospitality to strangers; but I can say of them, as the Queen of Sheba said of the wisdom of Solomon, "behold, the half was not told me." In my next letter I shall give Mr. **** a description of Dublin. I remain your most affectionate brother in Jesus Christ our Lord, J. C. P. S. I marvel that you stand so long on the threshold of full salvation. "If faith sleepeth, Christ sleepeth," says an old divine; and I fear, in the midst of all your "mighty struggles," faith is fast asleep; but you say, "I have faith, and yet I receive no other benefit than encouragement;" No, because your faith is always in the future tense, you believe God will cleanse you some time: when this is the case, unbelief is always intrenched in the present, and the blessing is not realised-venture to believe that he does cleanse you, and he will soon make good that precious promise, Mark, xi. 24. Amen. My dear Sir, LETTER XVI. Dublin, November 1, 1841. Early in last August, I landed in this city from England. Having had no rest in my spirit, I spent only a short time in that country. You have, no doubt, seen my letters to * * * * * which will render details unnecessary in this. According to promise, I now snatch a few minutes to give a description of Dublin; with my "first impressions." You are aware, that Dublin is supposed to be the second city in the British Empire, and, in magnitude, the fifth city in Europe; that it is situated in a county of its own name, in the province of Leinster; and that it extends from the shores of a beautiful bay, and adorns the pleasant banks of the river Liffey. As I had the misfortune to enter the bay in the night, and have not been out upon it since, I cannot describe to you from observation, how the scenery and city strike an approaching stranger. I have been told, however, that the city is seen to disadvantage, but, that the bay and surrounding landscape, is one of the richest arrangement of soft and beautiful scenery, which our world can present to the human eye. A friend at my elbow suggests that travellers generally allow a striking resemblance between it, and the entrance to the bay of Naples. As I have never seen the latter place, and have only gazed at the dim outlines of the former, on emerging from the stormy sea, near midnight, I cannot vouch for the truth of the comparison. A few weeks since, I had a pleasant ride along the shore, north of the city. The bay lay before us, in placid and sunny loveliness, enlivened with vessels, and dotted with the various works and embellishments connected with the harbour. The eye has a most enchanting prospect, as it sweeps away from the city, along the eastern shores till it rests with calm delight upon Kingstown. This beautiful town seems to sleep in a little Paradise, at the base of a range of hills of considerable magnitude. The shores and retiring landscape on that side are thickly populated and adorned with fine buildings, looking out from many verdant lawns and shady groves. When the eye leaves the margin of the bay, and traces the country eastward, it soon finds itfelf luxuriating amidst the sugar loaves, or conical mountains of county Wicklow. Sweeping from thence, northward, it comes back again to Kingstown, crosses the mouth of the bay, with the deep blue sea in the distance, and rests its weary vision upon the high and rugged promontory of the Hill of Howth. The place just mentioned, is a peninsula, connected with the main land, by an isthmus, several miles in length. A little to the north of this, is to be seen an immense pile of rocks, rising out of the sea to a considerable height, called, "Ireland's eye." We returned to the city, through a beautiful country of wood and park, interspersed with green fields, protected by fine hawthorn hedges, seven feet high, and half as many in width, cropped as even as a meadow; the whole enlivened with castles, cottages, and wealthy mansions. A trip to Kingstown, the other day, by railway, afforded me an opportunity of viewing the scenery on the opposite side of the bay; I thought it equal, if not superior, to the Kingstown side. I have had several drives through Dublin, in various directions, and not to mention the fine outlets from the city into a charming country, highly cultivated, and enlivened with villas, gardens, and plantations; I think the ride from the Custom House to the Phoenix Park, is the most animated and agreeable with which I have been favoured. To the left, is the river Liffey, enclosed with magnificent walls of cut stone, and that part called the harbour, filled with the shipping of all nations. As one proceeds along its banks, the eye luxuriates upon broad and beautiful streets, adorned with many noble specimens of architecture. As my description of Dublin, in this letter, must be brief and general, I will only mention the Post Office and Nelson's Pillar, in Sackville street, to the right; and Trinity College and the Bank of Ireland, to the left; nearer to the Park, are the Four Courts, a majestic pile, and the venerable Cathedrals, Christ Church, and St. Patrick's. The Phoenix Park is a royal enclosure, seven miles in circumference. It is tufted with groves of hawthorn, and thickly sprinkled with trees. To the left, after entering the gate, is the "Wellington Testimonial;" an obelisk, two hundred and five feet high, including the pedestal. The names of all the victories of the Duke, from his first conquest in India, to his last on the plains of Waterloo, are engraven upon the four facades of the obelisk, from the bottom to the top. It cost sixteen thousand pounds. This is a monument to a living Hero: rather an uncommon thing; but warm-hearted Ireland was in haste to honour her son, thinking it right, no doubt, that the pleasure of such a testimony of a nation's gratitude, should be enjoyed by the warrior himself, ere his departure to those silent mansions, where "They have no share in all that's done, His country, however, has an honour in reservation for him; as a pedestal in front of the obelisk stands ready to support his equestrian statue, after that deprecated event. A beautiful avenue, shaded by lofty trees, runs through the Park, intersected by other roads, taste |