pend upon his presence. It is a wall of protection. When that is taken away the vineyard is laid open.

4. With reference to nations and kingdoms. The counsels of nations depend on the presence of God. If God depart their wisdom is departed. "The spirit of Egypt shall fail in the midst thereof; and I will destroy the counsel thereof: and they shall seek to the idols, and to the charmers, and to them that have familiar spirits, and to the wizards," Isa. xix. 3.

The courage of nations depends upon the Divine presence. "The angel of the Lord appeared unto him-Gideon -and said unto him, the Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour," Judges vi. 12.

The success of war depends upon the same presence. The battle is the Lord's. "In Salem also is his tabernacle, and his dwelling-place in Sion. There brake he the arrows of the bow, the shield, and the sword, and the battle." Psa. lxxvi. 2, 3. So-the plans and success of nations are alike dependent on the presence of God.

USES. I. See here the difference between the godly and the ungodly. The godly earnestly desire the presence of God. Wherever we are, and whatever becomes of us, let us have that. The wicked love not the presence of God. They say "Depart from us," Job xxii. 17.

Therefore they are weary of sabbaths, &c. They depart wilfully from God, and desire not to return to him.

II. Then let us bewail God's departure from us. Blessed be God that we are not utterly forsaken. The glory did not depart from Jerusalem in an instant. It made gradual removes. Are not we under the tokens of God's withdrawings from our solemn assemblies? There is little conversion work done. "And it came to pass, while the ark abode in Kirjath-jearim that the time was long: for it was twenty years: and all the house of Israel lamented after the Lord." 1 Sam vii. 2.

III. Let us engage God's presence with us. Let this be our great design in coming to ordinances-to enjoy God there. Rest not satisfied in any ordinance without God. Call that comfort a snare in which thou art ready to rest short of God.

If you would have the presence of God 1. Put away the accursed thing. See Joshua vii. 12. Sin is that which separates us from God. Labour after purity of heart, and hands, and conversation.

2. Bewail what you cannot mend-the iniquities of the land: of the neighbourhood.

3. Be earnest with God for his presence. It is prayer that engageth God for a people, for a family.

the Rev. John Ely finished his course of extraordinary usefulness, leaving on the church deep impressions, from the remembrance of his exalted ministerial endowments, and from his manly, finelyformed Christian character, suited to "fine issues." His bosom friend, the Rev. Dr. Hamilton, did not survive him twelve months; but lived to write Ely's beautiful biography,-a graceful, faithful memorial of departed worth. These were brethren, lovely in their lives, and in death not divided. They were well fitted

to stand side by side, in private friendship and in public service,-the one Ulysses, and the other Achilles, in the churches' conflicts. Dr. Hamilton's removal seems to us an irreparable rent in the Congregational ministry. He was pre-eminent for genius, and free from the glare which leads astray," he was a burning and a shining light!" He had a rich, courtly, regal mind,-born to rule. In his preaching he was the centre of light and power,-in his writings, "being dead, he yet speaketh." They are precious benefactions of thought, treasured up for posterity's profit, and diligently and devoutly read, will be a valuable legacy to the Church of God. He lived gloriously, but he died still more gloriously, and almost without a solecism, we may say his death was the best part of his life. In the month of September Dr. Russell closed his life and his ministry together,-a ministry all skilful and powerful in expounding the oracles of God. He has left profound gospel thoughts on record, and his books are as household things to us. He was eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures, a preacher clothed with scriptural truth,—and his spirit is gone to the spirits of just men made perfect,-laden with the treasures of truth. In June last the Rev. D. Gunn finished his course with joy, and went to the possession of his reward. He was truly a pastoral chief, -worthy of double honour-ruling well in the Church of God,-successful in multiplying Christian churches, and in rendering, by skilful and persevering superintendence, the Sunday-school at Christchurch so practically efficient, as to be a model institution.

In the death of Dr. Payne we have a general and special interest. The unexpectedness of the event, and the first sight of its announcement, produced a deep pang; and for a time we felt all the bitterness of a painful parental bereavement. We were led to solemn reviews of past days, and the impressions which had been dimmed by a broad interval of time, were suddenly freshened by the

Doctor's decease. Having sat during the usual college course at his feet, and having read attentively all that has subsequently come from his pen, we may be supposed to have some insight into his character, the outline of which we have thought might not be an unacceptable offering to the readers of your journal. He was possessed of singular acuteness, and was no ordinary metaphysician. Critical acumen and power of analysis were observable in all he did. He accustomed himself to microscopic niceties of observation, and diligently gathered up all important fibres of thought,-weaving them together with remarkable exactness. He laid much stress on logical continuity, or orderly accurate conception, and had but little interest in writers who lacked this peculiarity. To a general observer of things, or to a reader more conversant with the comprehensive than the acute, there did appear a tendency to hairsplitting,—a profitless refining of thought, designated, "Subtlety attenuated into inanity." He was severely correct, but he had not unusual range and breadth of intellect. He was at home in struggling through the most tangled paths of metaphysical theology, and in concentrating the whole force of his mind on dark and difficult ethical inquiries. If he were not so expansive in his modes of thinking, as to explore some unknown, far distant continent in the regions of thought, he had singular aptitude for doubling capes, and for sailing in safety amid rocks and breakers, where ordinary men would have been wrecked and lost. In this order of mental activity he found refreshment and repose; in rest from it he would have rusted away. On all the great questions which he delighted to ponder, he was not satisfied with the how, but was perpetually pursuing the preceding why. He had boundless ability for metaphysical criticism, and in promptly detecting the weak parts of an argument. He had many qualities in common with Dr. Williams. formidable adversary in reasoning, and shone in faithful searching reviews. His

He was a

Apart from all moral considerations, his passion for sound logical statement was paramount to the power of prejudice; and he could more readily surrender an untenable opinion, than do violence to his understanding, by the admission of a fallacious argument. His philosophical and theological prelections afford ample illustration of his intellectual, metaphysical character. His course of mental philosophy is valuable, not because it is his own bold, independent system of philosophizing, but because it is an able defence of the system of Dr. Brown, and abounds with acute discriminations on the respective systems of Reid and Stewart. To any one having love for mental science, the Doctor's lectures were highly interesting, and thoroughly disciplining. We much regret he had not cultivated larger acquaintance with the German philosophers, especially with Hegel and Kant. The native bent of his mind, and his thorough love to truth, fitted him for exposing clearly the multiform sophistries and plausibilities which distinguish much of continental philosophy, and for detecting the latent and insidious errors of continental theology, We cannot forget the deep interest with which we passed through his course of moral science, an interest awakened by the worth of the course, but deepened by the indefatigable industry, and the cordial gratification with which the Doctor led us on, step by step. We are familiar now, after a lapse of sixteen years, with his bearing then, pointing out our path in his own style, and with keen perception dissecting and differing widely from the system of Dr. Brown, and placing the whole doctrine of morals on a safe and stable basis. This part we deemed then, and still continue to do so, the most valuable portion of his philosophical teaching. It only required a learner's sympathy with it, and a kindling enthusiasm in receiving its lessons, corresponding with the teacher's; and it could not fail to beget accuracy of conception and invigoration of intellect. In

course, it was very brief,—the judicious jottings down of thought. It needed, as well as deserved, greater expansion.

The Doctor is best known to the Church as a theologian. We had the privilege of receiving his instructions in this department, when his lectures had been recast, and when they had acquired their permanent and most matured shape. In theology he belonged to the school of Hall, Wardlaw, Russell, and Fuller. Though differing in some respects from Fuller, we cannot but think him deeply indebted to Fuller, for some of those simple, conclusive scriptural illustrations on the cardinal doctrines of the gospel, which distinguish the writings of that eminent modern divine. He summoned the full force of his mind, and consecrated the full vigour of his life to the working out of his theological system. He was sensitively alive to all doctrinal delinquencies, and intently looked at every phase of thought in the fundamentals of our holy religion. There is generally a reigning rectitude in his theology, baptized with heart-felt love to sound evangelical doctrines. With the general outline of his views we do for the most part accord, there are opinions in it to which we take exceptions. The effects of his written theology were felt by us in its delivery from the chair. There was too much the appearance of analytical thinking, an over-frequent recurrence to terminology, and the whole possessing too metaphysical a cast for any popular purposes. The style is clear, simple, forcible, but cold. The Doctor was wanting in poetic power, and having starved his imagination by protracted intellectual effort, his trains of reasoning are not charged with the matter of passion; but to one of warmer temperament, appear to be worked in frost rather than fire. With all these deductions, however, he will long live by his writings. He was not distinguished for his varied learning; while he had passable attainments, he had nothing in the shape of scholarly acquisitions. He was more

distinguished for thinking than for learning. He will not be known to posterity as a writer of practical and pastoral theology, nor as an erudite biblical critic, but as a profound polemical divine, furnishing valuable religious doctrinal praxis to the rising ministry, and to the more reflective portions of the Church of God.

We have vivid recollections of him as a tutor, and especially as a teacher of theology. He always showed lively interest in the delivery of his lectures,-an untiring pains-taking in illustrating and simplifying his views, and in trying to imprint them deeply on the minds of his students. He had great ease and accuracy in his vivá voce statements, and always an unmistakable earnestness in discoursing on the great truths of our holy religion. By a vigorous but undisciplined intellect,—to a mind with native but partly undeveloped acuteness, and with a portion of love for doctrinal divinity, he was uniformly successful in his teachings. By minds of a much lower or opposite character, his teachings were not and could not be appreciated. Hence many passed through his philosophical and theological course with much painful conflict, not largely profited, because they had no sympathy with his acuteness and discrimination,—and could not relish instructions which they deemed so alien to the ministerial vocation. His habits of thinking gave to his criticisms, occasionally, the appearance of severity, but it was the severity of reasoning rather than of feeling. Nevertheless, it produced a morbid impression on some minds, and operated, to some extent, in the repression of mental effort. The extravagancies of thought in a vigorous spirit in its first unfoldings, were perhaps rebuked too boldly; but in this there was, we are persuaded, nothing cynical or dictatorial. Whatever imperfections Dr. P. might have, he had fine, manly, moral excellencies. A generous-hearted student always found in him a generoushearted tutor. He had great honesty and uprightness of purpose. He abhorred

VOL. XXVII.

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all evasion and chicanery, and loved to see transparency of character. He was a stranger to parsimony and niggardliHe had a benevolence painfully bounded by his means,-and his ability and benevolence could never walk hand in hand. To every appeal of Christian charity he loved to yield a hearty response. His piety in all the duties of life was prominent and healthy. Religion with him was a felt, living reality. However little affected a man might be with the force of his teachings, none could doubt the soundness of his principles. His whole demeanour was marked by a becoming gravity,-having in it a tinge of constitutional melancholy.

As a preacher, he did not generally excel; he was naturally wanting in the attributes of popular and effective preaching. His voice was unmusical and monotonous; his manner in the pulpit was not easy and free, but somewhat stiff and frigid. His preaching, whether it partook of the disquisitive description, or of the hortatory and practical, had no salient points in it,-no sudden strokes of pathos-no bursts of passion, breaking forth, like the jet of the Geyser, when the spring is in full play. We have heard him when there has been an exception from his ordinary style of address. Some of his ordination discourses were of great worth, abounding in weighty thought, in wise and rich counsels; and the whole freshened with tenderness and unction, so as deeply to affect the hearers. With such spiritual repasts as these the churches of the West of England have often been favoured. On the platform, when he suddenly caught inspiration from his subject and circumstances, he spoke with telling effect, and his speeches then were the gushings forth of thought and feeling.

In the domestic relations of life, as husband and father, he was unusually lovely. His was a happy home. We often felt, during our college connection with him, that few men were more favoured with "home-born happiness" and "fire-side enjoyments." When he

P

appeared in the midst of his household, he laid aside the character of the scholar, the philosopher, the divine,-and gracefully slid into all the feelings and acts that were delightfully homely. In this honoured dwelling there was a kindliness that soothed the soul,—a tenderness that melted, a love that refined. The Doctor's first appearance in the morning was a signal for all his children to group and gather round him,-showing how much he loved them, and how much they loved him; and it required sometimes an effort to detach himself from these morning embraces. After dinner, he usually retired into the bosom of his family; and in the summer season he would sally forth, with a daughter on each side, with a boy on his back, and the youngest child in his arms: in this way, chasing away the cares of life,-unbending the mind, stooping to the capacities, yielding to the wishes, and mingling with the diversions of his children. When duty demanded his absence from them for a few days, his return to them was quickened by strong parental love; and they also uttered many a hearty wish, and gave many an anxious look, to see his face again. As soon as he opened the gate, there was the rush of rivalry first to greet him, and he was met with the glee of his little ones, and with the welcome of his whole house. These scenes of family happiness, so full of naturalness and love, we have often witnessed. The children were accustomed to feel and to speak to each other in the kindliest manner; and the repose of this household was seldom broken by shrill, startling inquiries, which are common where anger is eloquent, and temper is strong and stormy. To a father with so

much fondness of affection for his family, how bitterly he must have felt the parting with his two eldest daughters at the same time, for missionary service,-the one to the East and the other to the West Indies; but how honourable to his piety! The fountain of his feeling was deeply stirred, the sluices of his sorrow were widely opened, when he was bereft of his eldest son,-a promising youth, who died on a foreign shore. His beloved wife, so active and efficient in health, and who had long lightened his burdens and doubled his joys, was for many years before her death, quite an invalid and a great sufferer. In these and other ways the Doctor was sorely smitten with family trials. His last years were marked with much personal weakness and affliction, and yet he was honoured to serve God in the gospel of his Son to the last day of his existence. On the evening of June 19th, he preached for Mr. Pyer, of Mount-street Chapel, Devonport, on a theme on which he delighted to dwell,-" God is love;" and preached with remarkable solemnity and pathos. He reached home with some difficulty,-retired to rest,—and,' amid the quietness of the night, he breathed out his spirit unto God. He had done his work, but the death of so great and good a man is a loss to the church. How grave-like the world becomes by the removal of such friends, but to survivors, every such accession to heaven renders heaven more endearing and delightful in prospect. In the present instance, death is a surpassingly consoling consideration,—a sublimely grand and radiant idea: "Absent from the body, present with the Lord."

DEAR SIR,-I regret exceedingly that so many of the clergy, who wish to benefit their people, incapacitate them

selves for it by their imprudent exertions. I went on without stopping one single Sunday for twenty-four years; and had