of the diocese, in the cathedral of the latter city, he was speedily entrusted with the care of a parish. He had derived however more knowledge from his studies, respecting the doctrines of the Gospel, than his instructors expected or desired; the majesty, and at the same time the simplicity of the Scriptures, made a deep impression on him; he found only in the inspired word of God the way of salvation, and rest for his soul: by degrees he was led to reject as vain and unscriptural, a multitude of doctrines and practices, which the Romish church receives as necessary articles. To the doubts of the young student succeeded the strong conviction and lively faith of a converted sinner; he preached the Gospel, and his public sermons, and private instructions were numerously attended. His parishioners approving his conduct and following his example, he purposed extending the reformation to the outward forms of worship, as well as to the doctrines of the church, by abridging the superstitious ceremonies of the mass. He proceeded with caution, never changing any received custom without explaining his motives, following in all things the teaching of the Holy Scriptures. We cannot be surprized that these proceedings drew on a violent persecution against the worthy pastor; he was torn from the parish he had so diligently served, when the field was already white to harvest. The love of God which warmed his breast, urged him to persevere in proclaiming those saving truths, which had brought him from bondage, to the freedom of the children of God; and to prepare himself for the undertaking, he purposed passing over to Jersey, or Guernsey, where, in peace and safety he might mature his plans, intending to return to France as soon as possible, as a minister of the Protestant church; or if the persecution of his enemies should prevent this, to go as a missionary among the heathen. But Providence had arranged it otherwise; his declining health would not allow him to undertake so long a journey, and he removed to Anduse, where he joined himself to the large and respectable congregation of Protestants in that town. By this step he not only lost his pension as a priest, but the small annuity he received from his family. He had now to depend entirely on his own exertions for his daily bread, but a merciful God did not leave him destitute: at this painful moment he was received into the family of Mr. Soulier, the Protestant minister, and president of the consistory of Anduse, as tutor to his children. He had already published his Lettre d'un Curé à ses paroissiens, in which he defends his conduct, and explains the motives which induced him to leave the church of Rome, he says, "Non mes chers paroissiens, je n'ai point abandonné la religion du Seigneur Jésus, je n'ai fait que rejeter les ordonnances humaines dont on a vainement prétendu faire un moyen de salut; je n'ai fait que m'attacher plus fortement que jamais à Jésus, n'attendant désormais mon salut que de LUI seul, et non de l'absolution des hommes, non plus que de mes propres merites." This letter produced a deep impression among his former parishioners, of Gurat and Vaux,

and edified the Protestant church of France. He now employed himself in preparing two other pastoral letters, and a controversial treatise, which he did not live to finish. During a residence of ten months at Anduse, his health appeared improving, and it was not till the 1st of July 1824, that alarming symptoms gave his friends serious apprehensions, which, alas! were too well founded, The valued pastor, Mr. Soulier, now become his faithful friend, was his constant companion during the last days of his life: exhorting one another while it was called to day, they spent their time in prayer, in reading the word of God, in pious discourse and meditation. He was also visited by numbers of religious persons, to whom his piety and humility had endeared him, and they were both comforted and edified by his heavenly conversation, and resignation to the will of God. As soon as he learnt that his disease was fatal, he wrote an affectionate letter to his parents, and another to his beloved flock, which we give at length."

"De dessus mon lit de mort.-Mes bien-aimes paroissiens.” "C'est en ce moment que je me sens plus vivement pressé qué jamais de faire un sêrieux appel á vos consciences, et de vous demander si vous êprouvez que l'état où vous êtes est précisément celui où vous voudriez être au moment où la mort viendra rompre les liens qui retiennent votre âme dans ce corps mortel. J'ai éprouvé bien des fois que dans la santé on n'est pas toujours sérieux sur des matiéres vraiment sêrieuses, et qu'on ne pense pas à la seule chose necéssaire, auprés de laquelle toutes les autres ne sont rien, je veux dire le besoin, le pressant besoin de recourir à la miséricorde de Dieu, par la grâce qui est en Jésus-Christ; mais aujourd'hui que je me vois sur mon lit de mort, j'éprouve de bien vives inquiétudes a votre égard, et je tremble quand je pense à l'état de vos âmes et á la position où vous êtes. Je rassemble donc le peu de force qui me reste encore pour prévenir un malheur bien grand, celui de votre damnation éternelle, en vous rappelant, peut être pour la dernière fois, qu'il n'y a point de salut autre part qu'en Jésus-Christ, et que le chercher ailleurs est une tromperie qui ne manquera certainement pas de précipiter dans l'abîme des éternelles souffrances ceux qui se laissent conduire par sa lumière trompeuse. Il en est encore temps pour vous, mes chers amis, sortez du sommeil de mort où vous languissez depuis si long-temps; jetez vos regards à côté de vous, et vous apercevrez que si vous avez été conservés jusqu'à aujourd'hui, c'est par un effet de la bonté toute miséricordieuse de Dieu; que s'il ne vous avait point soutenus en sa grâce, il y a long-temps, vous auriez été précipités dans l'abîme. Eh bien donc, puisque vous voyez le danger, duquel IL vous à délivrés, ne perdez point le temps favorable qu'il vous accorde; c'est un temps de grâce, de miséricorde et de paix."

The evening of the day before his death, Mr. Soulier found him surrounded by many pious Christians, who, anxious to take a last farewell of this devoted servant of the Saviour, and profit

by his instructions, were on their knees around his bed. thus expressed himself :

He

"Je ne puis pas parler, mais mon désir, mon grand désir serait de faire passer dans l'âme de tous ceux qui m'écoutent le besoin que j'ai éprouvé, que j'éprouvé de m'attacher plus fortement à Jesus.-Helas! vous étes jeunes, mais vous voyez que le Seigneur ne met point de différence, qu'il appelle les jeunes comme les vieux à rendre compte, à comparâitre devant lui. Le temps favorable, c'est aujourd'hui."

Long before it was light, on the day of his death, he sent for his friend, wishing to say something more on the benefit he had derived from the afflictions with which he had been tried; after this he heard with great attention some chapters read from the New Testament. He had not for a long time closed his eyes, in consequence of his sufferings; but now, looking forward with faith to the repose of the grave which awaited his body, while his soul dwelt with delight on the glory to be revealed on its release from earthly troubles, he burst forth into a rapturous prayer, beginning, "Orient d'en haut, brillante etoile du matin, lève toi! viens m'éclairer." He was remarkable for the scriptural view he took of the salvation of mankind by the blood of Christ. The last struggles of nature cannot be better described than in the words of Mr. Soulier :

"Le matin, il pria souvent, mais à demi-voix, ou d'une voix plus faible. J'entendis une fois ces paroles: Il T'a plu de prolonguer mon épreuve, de ne me point donner de sommeil: que ton saint nom soit béni! Oh! c'est sans doute pour purifier mon corps et mon âme que Tu fais cela: c'est bien révelé dans Ta Parole."

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"Vous ne pouvez pas dormir,' lui dis-je, en le voyant désirer depuis quelques temps de trouver du repos; mais vous vous reposez spirituellement sur le sein du Sauveur, et vous vous endormirez dans ses bras.'-Oui,' me dit-il, 'c'est là mon espérance.'Comme il demandait à boire, et de l'eau bien fraîche, je lui dis : 'Bientôt vous vous désaltérerez à la source des eaux vives.' 'Oh! oui,' me répondit-il, celles-là sont les bonnes eaux. Celles d'ici: ne refraîchissent que le corps; mais celles du ciel, celles qui découlent de Jésus, la FONTAINE des eaux vives et jailissantes en vie éternelle, désaltéreront à jamais l'âme !'

6

Enfin, il touchait à son dernier moment. Nous étions tous à genoux auprès de son lit; et nous ne pensions plus qu'il pût entendre la prière, mais comme en finissant de prier je disais : 'Seigneur Jésus, viens recueiller son âme dans ton sein,' il répéta cette parole: Viens !', et lorsque j'eus dit: 'Amen, oui, Amen!? il répéta aussi: Amen! Un peu après, nous étions de nouveau en prière, n'ayant du tout plus l'idée qu'il entendit encore; et, pourtant lorsque j'eus encore dit: Amen!' ses yeux, qui n'étaient qu'à demi ouverts, s'ouvrirent un peu plus en s'élevant au ciel. "Ces deux mots furent les derniers que sa bouche mourante prononça, et son ceil mourant s'ouvrant un peu plus pour regar

VOL. II.

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der encore au ciel, fut la dernier expression de sa piété. Bientôt le Seigneur vint en effet transporter du temps dans l'éternité l'âme immortelle qu'il lui avait donné et dont il avait fait le rachat au prix de son sang.

"Ce bien cher frère, ce bienheureux disciple de Jésus, s'endormit de la manière le plus paisible et la plus douce dans les bras de son Sauveur. Ses dernières heures furent parfaitement • tranquilles, et rien n'annonçait le sentiment de la douleur. Lorsqu'il fut mort, le sourire demeura sur sa bouche."

He died on Monday the 19th of July, 1824-aged 27.

REVIEW.

The Life of the Right Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan-By Thomas Moore, Esq. Two vols. 8vo.-London, Longman & Co.

It is a remark of one of our most celebrated writers (celebrated more for the graces of his style and the daringness of his scepticism than for his historical impartiality,) that a writer of History should never betray in his composition to what country he belongs, or what religion he professes. We have always been accustomed to consider this rule as false in theory, and impracticable in application. We have met with no instance of the human mind so entirely divested of local impressions, as to be capable of exhibiting the mere events of History without some infusion of its own prepossessions and principles-some reasoning upon facts-some conjecture as to motives-some calculation of consequencessome evidence of a predilection for certain characters and opinions. Impartiality like this, if it were attainable, would, indeed, reduce History to the character given of it (how truly we say not) by one of our orators in Parliament-that of an old Almanack; and therefore it is that we hold the rule to be as false in theory, and as contrary to the spirit of sound criticism, as it is to the purposes of moral and religious improvement. That it is impracticable in application we infer from the fact, that its practice is no where less exemplified than in the writings of the very men who have proposed or assented to it; particularly upon that great question which is alike important to all times and parties, and upon which it is the interest of every individual to seek and to know the truth. They cannot, indeed, be accused of a prejudice in favour of Religion; but their prejudice against it is clearly betrayed in studied reserve, or ill-disguised contempt. They adopt and exhibit a standard of morality entirely inconsistent with that of the Gospel, and frame their narrative and reasoning as if no such narration were in existence, unless when their subject compels them to notice its external history; when, though it may not perhaps be

easy to discover what Religion they do profess, it is perfectly clear that they do not profess, and would not be thought to profess, Christianity: here their boasted impartiality fails at once. To be consistent with their own principles, they should leave this negative point also uncertain; and they should maintain a similar indecision or reserve upon every moral or political question. But cold, indeed, must be the heart that can thus abstract itself from the ties of kindred and country, and carnal must be the mind, however literary or intellectual, that can speculate upon the contingencies of human actions, without wishing to draw from the record of crimes and cruelties which they too generally present, some lesson of instruction or of warning.

We know not how these reflections have occurred to us in connection with the subject of this article; for we neither desire entirely to implicate Mr. Moore in the censure, nor do we conceive that Biography should always be modelled or judged by rules applicable to History. While we object to that cold Pyrrhonism which would leave the reader in doubt whether his author was a being of common feeling with himself, we require from the Historian such a control of his affections, as shall enable him to narrate events, and delineate characters, with the strictest accuracy; to state the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth (so far as he can learn it) in that court of posthumous reputation, where the great and the wicked of past ages are judged, and those of the present admonished. But to the Biographer more indulgence might be conceded: much may be allowed for the partiality of friendship, and the tenderness of personal recollection; much for the respect which youthful ambition naturally conceives for mature genius; and more, perhaps, for the gratitude with which many little acts and words of kindness are remembered, when the tongue that spoke kindness is silent, and the hand that conferred it is powerless. Hence we naturally expect that contemporary Biography shall be, in some degree, panegyrical; and we do not feel disposed to love the man who can anatomize, with satirical accuracy, the character of his friend and companion; exhibiting every petty foible, and recording every thoughtless expression. But the tenderness of the Biographer should never lead him to desert that standard of moral judgment which, if he be a Christian. he will find exhibited in the Scriptures of Truth; or, if he adopt the too fashionable practice of referring only to the guidance of Pagan antiquity, he may discover (though veiled, and lowered from its proper elevation) in the writings of Xenophon or of Plutarch. In the biography of a public man especially, which, if well executed, will naturally take its place among the histories of the age, the reader has a right to expect that peculiar and detailed instruction which more general history is inadequate to convey. Admitted, as it were, to the society of the individual, and invited to contemplate his character in the intimacy of domestic life, he has a right to expect that the circumstances leading to the formation of that character shall be rationally and faithfully traced; and