"MY DEAR SIR,--How shall I tell you that my beloved father--that the father of the Chinese Mission--Dr. Morrison, is no more! Scarce can the announcement come to you more suddenly than the event did to me. My dear father had, indeed, been long unwell, and was greatly debilitated by disease; but we had not, within an hour of his peaceful end, much apprehension that he was likely to be so soon taken away from us. The pallid cheek and glazed eye, quickly succeeded by failure of speech, were the first intimations to us that he had heard his Saviour say, 'This night shalt thou be with me in paradise.' At about ten at night, on the 1st of the present month,[A] while yet in the hands of the physicians, who in vain endeavoured to restore warmth and pulsation, he gently breathed out his spirit, without a struggle or a groan. And oh! the recollection of the many preceding days, spent by him in pain and extreme weakness, compels me to rejoice, even amidst my utmost grief, that he has been released from sin and sorrow, has rested from his labours, and shall henceforth be for ever with the Lord. In a letter, written not long before his death, he spoke of his apprehension that his work was finished, expressing his gratitude to God for what he had been permitted to accomplish for the Redeemer's cause; adding, that he knew but of two surviving missionary seniors, Drs. Carey and Marshman. I have this morning learned, with great sorrow, that about the time he wrote that letter, the venerable Carey also was called home. [Footnote A: _The First of August, 1834_, that memorable day in the annals of our country, when the sun neither set nor rose upon A SLAVE throughout all her vast dominions.] JOHN BROADLEY WILSON, ESQ. (_From the Patriot._)