memoir was a minister of the gospel, whom we were taught love and venerate, in his sacred office, at a time when our young hearts were unsophisticated by skepticism or misanthropy, and when with childlike simplicity, and happy innocence, with our beloved parents, we sat at his feet, and rejoiced to share in his counsels and in his prayers. As our fathers, we honor the names and memory of such, as we do our earthly parents, whom we love next to our Father in heaven; and peculiarly is this the case when VOL. I.-21

Présulent of Dickinson doilea

THE

METHODIST QUARTERLY REVIEW.

JULY, 1841.

EDITED BY GEORGE PECK, D. D.

ART. I.—Memoir of the Rev. Thomas Morrell,

OF THE NEW-JERSEY CONFERENCE.

"THE fathers! where are they?" is an exclamation we are wont to repeat when the reminiscences of by-gone days come up in seasons of solitude and meditation. Especially in our "religious hours" of contemplation, does the memory of the past inspire us with vivid and distinct impressions of the venerable dead, from whose lips we used to hear the lessons of heavenly wisdom, in the days of our childhood and youth. Nor can we divest ourselves of an indefinably sad and melancholy train of reflections, when their names, their countenances, and even the tones of their voice, recur to us with all the freshness of reality, stealing over the senses during our waking hours, or mingling in our slumbers during the visions of the night.

Hence it is that most readers find attraction and even fascination in those biographies and memoirs of the venerable dead, which record events, incidents, and circumstances of men and things, that are associated with their own earliest recollections. And especially is this the case, when the subject of such biography or memoir was a minister of the gospel, whom we were taught to love and venerate, in his sacred office, at a time when our young hearts were unsophisticated by skepticism or misanthropy, and when with childlike simplicity, and happy innocence, with our beloved parents, we sat at his feet, and rejoiced to share in his counsels and in his prayers. As our fathers, we honor the names and memory of such, as we do our earthly parents, whom we love next to our Father in heaven; and peculiarly is this the case when VOL. I.-21

they can truly adopt toward us the language of the apostle, and "though they be dead yet speak" to us, and say, "Though ye have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel."

Among the sons of Wesley in Europe and America, and among the children of Methodists everywhere, these sentiments will find a ready response and ample illustration. The name of Wesley has an inconceivable charm to the children and children's children of those who were the direct fruits of his ministry, and will continue "blessing and being blessed" to the latest generation. His son in the gospel, and our American apostle, Francis Asbury, acquired in our country an influence and authority only second to Mr. Wesley, and which he justly merited, by his labors and his successes, his zeal and his usefulness. And such is the affectionate and fervent attachment felt by the present generation of American Methodists to the name and memory of Bishop Asbury, that all who were his colleagues, fellow laborers, and helpers in the gospel, or identified with him in any capacity, however subordinate, have come to be regarded by such, as worthy to be held in everlasting remembrance. And as the number of these worthies is now but few, and these are rapidly taken to their reward, it is fit that we should pause beside their opening graves, drop a tear over their remains, and record a tribute to their piety and worth, as they pass away, one by one, from among us. Soon all who labored and suffered with our Asbury, as his sons in the gospel, will have gone the way of all the earth, their record will be on high, and their reward in heaven.

Such are the reflections which spontaneously suggest themselves to the writer of this brief memorial, while he inscribes on the tablet which bears the names of the "blessed dead," another of our fathers in the ministry, who has fallen asleep in Jesus, and now "rests from his labors where his works do follow him."

Thomas Morrell was born in New-York on the 22d of November, 1747, and his mother was one of the few who were formed into a class by Philip Embury in the year 1766, and consequently was among the first Methodists in America. She lived until the year 1796, when her son made the following record in his journal, dated July 30th:

"This day my dear, my aged, and my honored mother fell