"Sacramental Experience." Such a volume was greatly wanted, and will be hailed by thousands. It is equal to the best of the "Experimental Guides;" and savours far more of the Puritan than the modern theology; it is truly a work for the heart and the closet; and, we might add, for the conscience likewise.

The FOOTSTEPS of MESSIAH; a Review of Passages in the History of Jesus Christ. By Rev. W. LEASK.

London: John Snow.

Most sincerely do we thank Mr. Leask for this new effort of his pen. It is equally creditable to his head and heart; and we predict for it a favourable reception by the friends of Jesus throughout our land. The chief design of the book is to show that the record of our Saviour's life is didactic, and that every 64 footstep of the Messiah" is illustrative of some great principle or prin

ciples connected with the Christian dispensation or developed in the Christian life. We are perhaps too prone to forget this, and to regard the Saviour's life merely as a marvellous history, without bearing in mind that its prominent points teach truths and principles which are exhibited in his religion generally as a system, as well as in its rise and progress in the human soul. To the elucidation of this, Mr. Leask, in the volume before us, has devoted his powers; and to our mind he has succeeded well. The book is divided into twenty-four chapters, each of which is headed with the principle which the circumstance or incident teaches, as, for instance, The Manger: Greatness independent of earthly splendour."-"The Sages: Philosophy kneeling to Christianity," &c., &c. The volume is well written, contains many passages of considerable force and beauty, is remarkably felicitous in appropriate scriptural quotation, and cannot be read without interest and advantage.

DEATH OF DR. CHALMERS!

This great and good man is no more. As in chariot of fire, in the midst of his activities, he has been translated from earth to heaven. The event is truly solemn and admonitory. He had hastened home from the metropolis,-where he had been called to give evidence before a Committee of the House of Commons, on the question of Sites-to attend the Assembly of the Free Church; and, on Monday morning, the 31st ult., he was found dead, in a sitting posture, on the side of his bed. The probability is, that, by the fatigues of his journey, the circulation was disturbed, and that he was carried off in a fit of apoplexy. To the beloved members of his family the shock must have been peculiarly afflictive-though they full well knew that the change to him, whom God has taken to himself, was glorious beyond expression.

No man, in our times, has exerted a greater or more beneficial influence than Dr. Chalmers. His powers were original and strong; and there was a guileless simplicity of character pertaining to him, which gave him a place in the heart of every one who knew him. From the moment that his mind was opened to the perception of evangelical truth, he "conferred not with flesh and blood," but threw all the energy of his masculine mind and heart into the cause of vital Christianity.

As an author he has left behind him works which will sustain his reputation

beyond the possibility of failure; and as a preacher, no man of his day has attracted larger audiences, or produced a more thrilling impression upon the minds of those who have listened to his eloquent and spiritstirring appeals.

There was nothing narrow or sectarian in the bearing and tendency of Dr. Chalmers' mind. His controversies, even, were generous, and free from all personal asperity. No antagonist loved him less, after the battle of opinion was over. He was a fine sample of manly and vigorous Christianity-carried fully out into all the rela tions both of private and public life.

We sincerely sympathise with the Free Church of Scotland, in the great loss they have sustained, by the sudden and unexpected removal of this distinguished man ; a loss which is, in some measure, shared by the whole Christian church. May his mantle fall on many of the rising ministry of our day!

THE CHALMERIAN ERA IN THEOLOGY. To the Editor.

As you and I saw together the Star of the North both rise and culminate, and felt alike under its brightness then, permit me to remind you, and those who felt with us, of its sweet influence upon 66 the schools of the prophets" and the young ministry of that period; for it moved them all, although it moulded but few in its own image. It is

not without reason, that I venture to call the period of Dr. Chalmers's ministry in Glasgow, an era in the theological tone of both Britain and America. Although, therefore, no one that knew him at all, could well know less of him personally than my-. self, I do not feel altogether disqualified for characterizing either the kind or the degree of his ministerial influence, when his Astronomical Discourses first surprised the church and dazzled the world. For I knew well, some of the students at Glasgow, who had heard them, and caught their inspiration; and I saw, with you, the turn and tone they gave to the rising ministry in England. I shared also in the impulse they thus gave to the youthful mind of the country, and willingly yielded myself to the splendid spell of the Chalmerian enchantment, until I discovered that I was not made for his new "line of things," but for the simpler and thus safer line of the old Puritans. Since then, I have dwelt amongst these as "mine own people," and kept as near to their style and standard as I could get, without servily imitating either. Still, I have never forgotten the visions of glory which Chalmers threw around the pulpit, nor the vistas he opened into the depths of the moral universe, nor the gorgeous mag. nificence of the language in which he clothed his mighty conceptions and mightier emotions. It is now many a day since I read over the Astronomical Discourses; but although I have read much during the long interval, and become even unspeakably fonder of Bunyan and Charnock, Brooks and Gurnall, nothing has either displaced or disturbed my early recollections of Chalmers. They often haunt my pillow, and always hover around my spirit, whenever Alpine scenery or scientific discoveries entrance my thoughts. I have instinctively traced in the wonders revealed by Lord Rosse's telescope, and by one in my own family, fulfilments of prophetic conjectures thrown out by Chalmers, whilst his own penetrating glance, regulated by pure science, ranged beyond the landmarks of Newton and La Place; nor am I yet con vinced that his awful estimate of what comets might do in convulsing the solar system, is but "the baseless fabric of a vision;" fanciful as the dream certainly is, I do remember well, simpler specimens of sublimity in Dugald Stewart, and loftier in Humboldt, and chaster in Sir John Herschell; but whenever I track a planet, or try to count the stars, I find myself leaning upon the arm of Chalmers, and repeating his phrases just as I did when I first looked up to the heavens by his burning and shining light, or sailed in his brilliant wake through the depths of space. I have also a strong sympathy with his views

VOL. XXV.

of the universe, as the empire of Emmanuel, over which the glories of the Cross pour both moral and immortal splendours, which heighten and hallow the natural glories of the Eternal Throne, in all worlds; for he loves as well as believes this august theory; and has given up his whole spirit to its inspiration, without either parade or presumption. I love his character also ; for although I never had any opportunity of studying it closely for myself, I did not learn it from vague report; but from the lips of some of my favourite school-fellows who came under his influence, and shared both his confidence and affection. I thus know that unconsciously, as well as unintentionally, he pictured himself in the following portrait of a Christian, "according to his own heart:"

"I can conceive a man, the aspiring of whose heart for the good of man, knows no limitations, whose longings, and whose conceptions on this subject, overleap all the barriers of geography;—who, looking on himself as a brother of the species, links every spare energy which belongs to him, with the cause of its melioration ;-who can embrace within the grasp of his ample desires, the whole family of mankind;—and who, in obedience to a heaven-born movement of principle within him, separates himself to some big and busy enterprise, which is to tell on the moral destinies of the world. Oh! could such a man mix up the softenings of private virtue, with the habit of so sublime a comprehension ;-if, amid those magnificent darings of thought and of performance, the mildness of his benignant eye could still continue to cheer the retreat of his family, and to spread the charm and the sacredness of piety among all its members;-could he even mingle himself in all the gentleness of a soothed and a smiling heart, with the playfulness of his children, and also find strength to shed the blessings of his presence and his counsel over the vicinity around him ;-oh! would not the combination of so much grace with so much loftiness, only serve the more to aggrandize him? Would not the one ingredient of a character so rare, go to illustrate and to magnify the other? And would not you pronounce him to be the fairest specimen of our nature, who could so call out all your tenderness, while he challenged and compelled all your veneration?"-ASTRON. DISCOURSES. P. 173. 4th ed.

Chalmers did not sit to himself for this portrait; but, when he had painted it, he set himself to realize it in his own character and spirit. And he succeeded! I, indeed, never saw him in the midst of his own fire-side circle; but I feel as if I had often seen him there; so vividly and graphically have I seen him depicted by some of the friends of my youth,

2 F

who were dear to him and could well do it ; and who, knowing his leisure hours, often found him in the parlour or the garden, "on all fours," with a child or two on his back, or romping with children in as high glee as the youngest of the merry group; and this, too, immediately after absorbing or sublime public efforts of zeal and benevolence. This was no secret then; and as it surpassed that beau ideal of a philosopher we knew, who might be seen training a plant in his garden at sunrise, after having spent the night in tracking the path of a planet or the sweep of a comet, it commended Chalmers to our hearts; whilst his sanctified astronomy and spirit stirring eloquence were making our heads swim with rapturous amazement and delight.

It is no secret to you, how or why Chalmers laid hold upon the best sympa. thies and aspirations of young Christians then, and especially of young ministers, who had anything like a liberal education and a literary taste. He came before us, as a being equally sublime and simple; or, as equally akin to earth and heaven, and thus fit for both. His intellect awed us, but his spirit enchanted us. We felt our littleness in his presence, and yet we fondly dreamt of becoming great as well as good by looking up to him. Some of us imagined, that as he could unbend from his lofty science and severe logic, and become child-like in simplicity, or seraph-like in devotion, so we might bend our half-fledged, but fluttering wings, to career as he did amongst the stars, and even to complete his circuit and survey of the universe; for there were times when we could not help feeling, from the perfect ease of his flight, as if we too could "take the wings of the morning," and follow him easily. There was, indeed, vanity as well as folly, in these ambitious aspirings and wild day-dreams; but there was also in them something more and better than vain emulation; even a clear perception of the glory of redemption, and a cordial wish to carry glorying in the cross into and throughout all the fields of science, literature, and taste, with a higher zeal and zest than poets or philosophers ever throw into their favourite themes; and thus, to foil worldly wisdom by its own weapons.

And there was need for such an impulse then, upon the mind of educated young men, whether they were preparing for the ministry, or for secular pursuits; for the popular literature of the time was neither profound nor suggestive; but, in general, as superficial as it was fascinating; Walter Scott being its Corypheus. The pulpit especially needed both a new and strong impulse, to rouse it to a sense of its own importance and sublimity, as the chair of eternal truth, and thus as the magnetic

centre of immortal spirits. For the old impulses given in Scotland by the Bostons and Erskines; and in England, by Whitfield and Wesley, were well nigh exhausted. There was, indeed, energy in the ministry; but not much glowing enthusiasm, except amongst men of Rowland Hill's order; and their slap-dash style, even if it could have been imitated by the rising ministry, would not have been tolerated from youthful lips, by either the rising generation or the manhood of the period. Hence Robert Hall and John Foster had become models of style; and, as we well remember, many an awkward and abortive effort was made in the pulpit, to imitate the classical periods of Hall, and the recondite reasonings of Foster. There was thus, a dead stand still, for a wide and warm impulse; for both Jay and Thorp were inimitable, and so was our friend, Dr. Waugh; and no other men of the time, except Dr. Mason, of New York, had any transforming or transporting influence upon "the schools of the prophets." Not, however, that there were but few eloquent and usefu preachers. There were many; but somehow they had neither the art of multiplying their own image, nor the originality that makes ministerial fire catching, and thus assimilating. Now this was, you know, what Chalmers had, and it told at once upon thousands. His preaching was suggestive, as well as rousing and persuasive. Like the Mediterranean Storm in the 107th Psalm, it made young preachers, whether reading or hearing him, "mount up to the heavens, and go down again into the depths, melting their souls," alternately by elevation and terror; or, now winding up their spirit to study and preach, as they had never done or dreamt of trying; and anon lodging in them something like a conviction that they had mistaken both their calling and talents. Not, however, that he either drove from the ministry, or deterred from entering it, any one, however modest, whose soul was really set upon it; nor that his success tempted the ambitious to care more for fame than for usefulness. No; his influence did not work in that way. The modest saw in his devotional spirit,-so adoring and humble!-one of the chief secrets of his ministerial success; and the ambitious, who were not very devotional, felt that they could not baptize science or logic with his heavenly fire; but must spout like actors, whatever orations they might work up on his model. Hence, he could hardly be said to have formed "a school" of his own, amongst the rising ministry in England; and if he had one in Scotland, it did not last long, as such; except that the tone he gave to susceptible minds kept up, as tone, after each mind sobered down to its natural level; for he himself soon quitted the high imagin

ings of his holy philosophy, to apply prac tically unto the vices of cities, and to the visions of sentimentalists, and to the selfcomplacency of legalists, the spirit of that "eternal Redemption," the glories of which he had thrown, as theory, around all the starry worlds of the universe, with an unsparing hand and a splendid enthusiasm.

It was, I submit, this diversified application of his mighty powers and purposes, to all the moods of popular error, and to all the forms of public ungodliness, with its consequent misery, that prevented the rise of a Chalmerian School of Theologians, in either England or Scotland; for it was soon seen, and felt too, that any attempt to rival Chalmers on the philosophy of Redemption,

"In distant worlds,"

involved the necessity of imitating him, in his doings and darings for the good of this world, as it "lieth in wickedness" around our own doors. Old Fuller says, it is easier to tune the lyre of Apollo, than to bend his bow or drive his chariot; and thus, all who were either unwilling or afraid to be practical Chalmerses, soon ceased to be astronomical theologians, and satisfied themselves with throwing into their own "line of things," whatever inspiration they had caught from him. That inspiration was, however, both a noble and a useful impulse, which greatly improved the general tone of the pulpit. I witnessed its rise, and watched its progress, and can trace its influence upon the pulpit still. I could name "men of renown," who, although not at all Chalmerian in either style or taste, are yet, however unconscious of it, far more moulded by him, than by men whom they have studied more and quoted oftener; for it is quite a mistake on their part, to suppose that either his literary faults or his ecclesiastical foibles, which they could not but dislike, defeated his influence over them. His spell has been upon their spirit all along, and was never more so than when he caricatured their voluntaryism, whilst giving Presbyterian sanction to prelacy; for this parador was so glaring, that it only brought into nearer, and thus clearer, view, what might have been achieved by his wonderful powers, had they been concentrated upon the unearthy policy of the New Testament, in order to claim for it the homage of the church and the world. Accordingly, how all such minds returned to their original allegiance to his lofty and sanctified genius, when his pure conscience threw all his influence into the BARTHOLOMEW-DAY of the Free Kirk?

But I forbear. I have let my heart run on with its own glowing gossip about "auld lang syne," as if my head had no right to take cognizance of anything but the truth of

these recollections, or were not amenable at all for their random style. The fact is, they made me feel young again, as they arose within me in all the vividness and vitality of their original forms. Hence they smack of the atmosphere of the Tron Kirk, thirty years ago, more than of the temperature of my study now; and thus must lie very open to critical animadversion. Be it so; for I can neither speak nor write by rule, when my heart is full; and, in the case of Chalmers, I had rather incur the charge of extravagance, or of violating good taste, than do violence to my own feelings of love towards him or you.

Ever your old Friend,
ROBERT PHILIP.
Maberly-cottage, June, 3, 1847.

MR. JOHN NEWELL, COVENTRY.

At the close of a sermon, preached the second sabbath in January, at West Orchard chapel, on "The Character and Blessed ness of the watchful Christian," founded on Luke xii. 35, &c., the following reference was made to our departed friend :

The very first day of this year has been distinguished by the death of a highlyvalued deacon of this church, Mr. J. Newell, in his sixty-seventh year. It is unnecessary to dwell at length upon his character and religious experience, as from his activity among us he was so well known, and so highly esteemed. Before his residence at Coventry, in 1822, he was a member of the church at Paddington, London, of which the Rev. James Stratten is the pastor, who at the time addressed a letter to us, in which he bore testimony to Mr. Newell's Christian character and usefulness in the most satisfactory terms: and in conversing afterwards with the late Thomas Wilson, Esq. and Mrs. Wilson, I remember their referring to our friend with such respect and affection, as showed the deep impression his spirit and deportment had left behind him. His former faithful pastor, when apprised of his death, addressed the following note to one of his relatives :

"My dear Mrs. Arber,-I regret that you did not come into the vestry last night, as I should have liked very much to have spoken to you. I find that Mr. Newell was admitted to the church on the 8th of May, 1816. I have no record of the time of his removal from this neighbourhood. In all that I ever saw or heard of him, he was one of the most excellent of men. His temper was naturally so sweet and amiable, that I should think he never quarrelled with anybody, and that in no instance did he intentionally give pain to any living thing. He was highly valued in the Sun

day-school, and was for some time a very efficient teacher. His gift in prayer was to myself and others extremely edifying, from the simplicity and filial spirit in which he was wont to address the Supreme Majesty, in and through Jesus Christ. He is one of the many whom I shall rejoice to meet in heaven; and I expect the remarkable smile and benevolence of his countenance will be just the same it was upon earth, only lighted up with glory! I hope to see you soon, and with kind regards to your family, remain, Dear Madam, most truly yours, JAMES STRATTEN."

We have also received the most gratifying intimations from friends in Montgomeryshire, that, during his occasional visits to his native place, his kind counsels to his youthful relatives, his heavenly conversations with his aged friends, and his useful suggestions to sabbath-school teachers and church officers, coming as they did from a heart so full of the most guileless humility and affection, will be long remembered.

Having obtained help of God, he has been enabled to maintain this character among us, even to the end. While there was a happy consistency in his general character, and an habitual attention to his duties as a member of the church, he was especially distinguished for his unwearied and affectionate labours, as superintendent and secretary of our sabbath-schools. He also took a very lively interest in our local tract societies, of which he was secretary, and spared no pains in promoting their efficiency. It was a source of great satisfaction to him to see his only surviving child and her husband taking an active part in seeking the instruction of the rising generation; and this pleasure was heightened by their becoming members of the church.

With deep solicitude he contemplated the moral darkness, and consequent disregard of religion, which appeared among many of the inhabitants of that part of the city where he resided, and he lately opened a commodious school-room on his own premises, for the purpose of imparting religious instruction on the sabbath, to the neglected children of the neighbourhood, and for afternoon preaching. This attempt succeeded beyond expectation, and largely did he partake with his fellow-labourers, in the pleasure which arose from that success: and one of his most earnest dying wishes was, that his children would devote their best efforts to perpetuate and extend the work he had commenced in this school, in connection with the friends at this chapel.

Our esteemed friend was eminently marked by a peaceful and forbearing spirit, as well as by zeal and unwearied diligence. One proof of the sentiments he had inspired in the breast of the sabbath-school teachers,

was evinced, in a request that twelve of them should accompany his remains from his house to the grave.

He had been subject to successive attacks of a bilious kind, which were generally debilitating, and sometimes so severe as to threaten immediate dissolution. While these attacks awakened the fears of his friends, he felt reminded by them of the importance of keeping in immediate view his approaching end. His family and friends observed many indications of their having this effect upon his mind. Though he obtained relief during the last few weeks from the renewed medical advice he received, yet he was apprehensive that his time would be short, but refrained from speaking frequently and particularly of his departure, knowing that it would give pain to his family; still, as he was one of those who, through grace, "have hope in their death," this anticipation impelled him more and more to spend his remaining strength in his blessed Master's work. On the 25th of December, just a week before his death, he was very active-too much so for his strength-in preparing for a meeting of the teachers in his own school-room ;-for he felt the liveliest interest in everything tending to promote harmony and beneficial co-operation in sabbath-school teaching, and the spread of evangelical truth.

On the evening of the 30th of December, he suddenly became much worse, and it was thought he would expire. Some favourable symptoms, however, during the few remaining hours, inspired the hope that he might revive from this attack as from others; but on New Year's-day, at noon, he finished his course. The Master had come and called for him, and he was willing to go;-for he knew in whom he had believed. During his last illness, the pastors of the church and his fellow-deacons found him, even when heart and flesh were about to fail, explicitly declaring his hope in the atonement of the Lord Jesus to be his stay. Christ's finished work was the rock on which he rested. He was affectionately thankful for the strong comfort he derived from the portions of Scripture they read to him, and the prayers offered on his behalf. He was willing to stay here a little longer, if he might be in any degree useful, but was perfectly resigned to the Divine will. This was the state of his mind, while the result of his illness appeared doubtful; but when, early in the morning of the day he died, he was fully aware his end was come, he said to his weeping daughter,-"I would not give up the comfort I now feel from the gospel, for ten thousand worlds." He afterwards said to a dear and intimate friend, one of the deacons,-"I am going home; I believe the Lord is going to take