a person dignified and commanding, and gestures graceful and happy; we need not inform the reader, that his pulpit efforts, at this period, possessed every characteristic of animated and powerful eloquence. Many instances of its effects upon large audiences are remembered, and might easily be mentioned, which were most striking proofs of its power over the feelings and the conscience. In the formation of his sermons, he pursued a course, in a great degree, original. Texts familiar by common use among preachers, to the minds of his audience, would form the subject of discourses, new, solemn, and impressive. The truth to be illustrated was often new; the arrangement and arguments were new, the images were always new, and the thoughts peculiarly his own. The very weakness of his eyes, which occasioned him so much pain and self-denial, was, in some respects, advantageous. He could not himself read the sermons of others. Religious books of a different class were read aloud in his family on the Sabbath. And most rarely indeed was he permitted to listen to the sermons of his brethren. Thus, deriving no assistance from the efforts of others, he was compelled to depend exclusively on the resources of his own intellect. Happily these were rich and inexhaustible. It is probably owing to this fact, that his sermons bear the characteristic stamp of his own mind; and are, throughout, in the highest sense, his own. In this respect, in a fair claim to originality of thought, of method, and of illustration, it is confidently believed, that the sermons of President Dwight need not shrink from a comparison with those of any other writer.

In his extemporaneous efforts, though his fancy was ever visibly active, still it was controlled by judgment and taste. They were indeed more richly ornamented with imagery than most of his written sermons; yet figures were introduced, not merely because they were beautiful, but for the purpose of illustration or impression. His own views of the duty of a minister of Christ, in this respect, are happily conveyed in several of the discourses in these volumes; and still more fully in some of his occasional sermons. He considered him bound to forget himself, and remember nothing but the purpose for which he is sent: the salvation of his hearers. Every attempt at display, every attempt to exhibit his own talents, or taste, or fancy, or learning, in a preacher, was, in his view, an obvious prostitution of his office to private and unhallowed pur poses. His rules and his conduct were in this respect harmonious. After his appointment to the office of professor of theology, in 1805, when he began steadily to employ an amanuensis, he turned his attention more to writing his sermons at length. The frequent calls upon him to preach at different places, on extraordinary occasions, and a disposition to render his systematic discourses to the students as nearly correct and perfect as possible, probably had influence with him in the adoption of this course. His Systematic Sermons had cost him much labour and research. They were fa

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vourite discourses with the public at large, and with his pupils; many of whom took notes of them every Sabbath. He thought, if they possessed the merit ascribed to them, that they ought to be written out. Other considerations also had their weight. He ob served an increasing attachment, in some parts of the country, to a florid and highly embellished style of composition: in his own view, owing to a vitiated taste; involving a substitution of ornament for thought, and of sound for sense; and wholly subversive of the very end of preaching. This mode of writing was gaining popularity among his own pupils; and he felt desirous, as far as possible, to counteract it. Knowing the efficacy of a teacher's example on the conduct of those under his care, he determined carefully to avoid every thing of this nature in his own discourses; and to subject his mind, naturally fond of imagery, to a severer discipline than it would submit to in the moment of extemporaneous effort.

The discourses in these volumes obviously required, in this respect, as well as in others, peculiar care. Their primary object is to explain and prove the great truths of theology; and their second, to enforce them on the conscience, and show their practical influence on the heart and life. They are not merely theological lectures; but are, in the strictest sense, sermons. Yet, as the purpose in the body of each discourse is the discovery of truth, the use of figurative language, except for illustration, would there have been improper. In the application, it might be admitted to enforce and enhance it. The reader will, we think, admire the good sense displayed in this particular. In the division of the subject he will never find figurative language introduced. The body of the discourse, if, as is most commonly the case, the subject be merely argumentative, is almost equally destitute of it. If, however, it be a subject rather requiring description and enhancement than proof; as in the discourses on heaven, on the holy angels, on the creation of the earth and of man, on the resurrection, the last judgment, and the future happiness of the righteous; it will be seen that the author's mind rises with his subject. Having heard those discourses to which we have just now referred, we have ever viewed them as distinguished models of sacred eloquence.

The series of Theological Sermons was written out at the close of 1809. After completing it, he wrote out many of his miscellaneous sermons, both doctrinal and practical. These were intentionally less pruned than the former, but more so than his earlier efforts. There is little reason to doubt, that these, should they ever be published, will prove more entertaining, to the mass of readers, than the discourses in these volumes. They discover equal talent, present a greater variety of subject and of manner, and usually require less mental exertion in the perusal. Among them are the sermons preached on the Sabbath preceding the Commencement, to the candidates for the Baccalaureate. They were

addressed to his immediate pupils, when just about to leave the institution; to bid an adieu to him as their instructer, and to each other as companions, and to engage in the busy scenes of life. Over their conduct he had long watched with unremitting care; and for their present and future welfare, he felt the highest degree of solicitude. They contain an accurate development of the human character, and of the temptations, follies, and vices of the world; as well as the purest moral and religious sentiments, enforced with the feeling and fervency of parental affection, and accompanied by the parting counsels of a wise and experienced preceptor and friend.

Of the miscellaneous sermons at large, our limits forbid us to attempt a delineation. We will mention one of them, which appears to have been conceived in a peculiarly auspicious moment; and has been eminently followed with the blessing of God. His students will realize that we intend the discourse on Jeremiah viii. 20: The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. In two instances, the delivery of it was obviously the commencement of a revival of religion among his pupils; in the first of which nearly half of them were united to the College Church. Similar consequences have been ascribed to its delivery on two other occasions, in different places. Never have we witnessed effects on mixed audiences equally solemn and powerful, from any sermon, as in several instances from this. Many beside his pupils ascribed to it their first impressions on religious subjects.

His sermons were uncommonly intelligible to all classes of people. His division of his subject was natural, neat, and easily remembered. His style, though at times highly ornamented and elevated, was still plain and perspicuous; and his delivery, though occasionally rapid, was clear and distinct. Owing to these qualities, the illiterate, and persons of ordinary capacity, were able to understand him without difficulty.

Another characteristic of his preaching was, a constant regard to practical effect. Even the sermons which compose these volumes, the object of which was, primarily, to exhibit to his pupils a complete system of Christian doctrines, will be found, in their application, to have this discriminating character. It was impossible for him to enter the desk but as the herald of reconciliation. He could not fail to discover his affecting sense of the greatness of the Being who sent him, or of the infinite importance of the message which he brought. And his most obvious purpose was to accomplish the salvation of those to whom it was delivered.

It is believed, on the best evidence, that this purpose was, to an unusual extent, accomplished by his preaching. Immediately before the commencement of his presidency, the College Church, among the students, was almost extinct; it came at last to consist of only two members, and, soon after his accession, it dwindled to a single person. During the greater part of his continuance in of

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fice it embraced at least one fourth; in various instances one third; and in one, upwards of one half of the students. Perhaps no ob ject of contemplation afforded him higher pleasure, towards the close of life, than the number of his pupils who had become, or were intending to become, preachers; especially when he remembered how frequently the labours of the former had been crowned with success.

In the performance of the other exercises of public worship, he greatly excelled. His manner of reading the Scriptures, and sacred poetry, was peculiarly happy and impressive. In the appropriateness, variety, fluency, copiousness, fervency, and elevation of prayer, as it regarded subjects, sentiment, and language, he was nearly without a rival. Entirely free from form, from tiresome re petition, and from lukewarmness, and under the influence of the deepest abasement and prostration of soul, his heart appeared to be melted, and "his lips to be touched as with a live coal from off the altar," when he was engaged in this sublime and delightful duty.

But his usefulness as a minister was not confined to his labours in the pulpit. He was emphatically the friend, the counsellor, and the guide of his younger brethren in the sacred profession. In the language of one of his pupils, "He was, indeed, a father to NewEngland-her moral legislator. His life is an era in her history. To the churches of his persuasion in that country, he was a guardian, a friend, a counsellor. In the hour of trial, they found supin his firmness, assistance in his wisdom, and encouragement in port his prayers. As a peacemaker, he was eminently blessed; for his advice was asked, and given in the spirit of Christian humility and justice." Great numbers of the clergy had, first or last, been his pupils: he had been their friend and adviser, as well as their instructer; and they felt the most implicit confidence in his disposition, and his capacity, to assist them in their embarrassments and difficulties. For this purpose they resorted to him with perfect freedom, and were received with the utmost kindness and respect. He entered at once into their interests and feelings; and the services which he rendered them were numerous and important. Having the advantage of long observation and experience, an extensive acquaintance with the state of the country, and the character, wants, and condition, of its inhabitants; and being the centre of application for the supply of instructers, both literary and religious, for a wide extent of country; he was able to adapt his opinions to the exigencies of the various cases in which he was consulted; and to furnish those who sought it with employment and support. Few imagine how many parishes in New-England, New-York, and elsewhere, have, through his agency, been furnished with clergymen.

In short, his character, as a preacher, may be summed up in the language of the writer last alluded to: "While he shunned not to declare the whole counsel of God,' he strengthened his arguments by illustrations from the history of nations, and the biography

of individuals. His application of Scripture doctrines and texts to the ever-varying aspect of human life; his insight into the groundwork of character, and the motives to action; his admirable sketches, as it were, with the very pencil, and in the very colouring of the inspired writers, distinguished him from the mere commentator on texts, and the sentimental moralist. Of his eloquence, as with most other great orators, few can judge correctly, but those who have heard him. They will never forget him, either in this world or the next. To simplicity in manner and matter, he added dignity; to ease, he added energy; to fervour, he added humility. Preaching too often seems, with ministers, the work of a day or an hour; but with him it was the work of Eternity. He preached as a sinner and dying man himself; he preached as in the presence of God, and of the spirits of just men made perfect; he preached as though he saw his crown of glory ever before him; as though he heard the Saviour saying, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." "His sermons were not adorned with as many decorations of taste and ornaments of imagination as those of some other distinguished pulpit orators. But in the primary qualities of real eloquence, his sermons were eminently rich: in powerful appeals to the heart, in vivid pictures of vice and virtue, sketched from the life; in awful denunciation; in solemn remonstrance; in fervent intercession."

It remains only to view President Dwight, as a man, in the various walks of private life, exhibiting the virtues which peculiarly adorn that interesting station. And perhaps, no part of the task which has been undertaken in this account, has been more difficult of execution. "It is rare," says Professor Silliman, who had been long and intimately acquainted with him in private as well as in public life," that a man so great and splendid in the public eye, is in private life so desirable: for to his particular friends, his society was delightful, and the only effect of long and intimate acquaintance with him was, to exact towards himn every sentiment of respect, admiration, and affection." "In the domestic and social circle," says another of his pupils," Dr. Dwight will ever be remembered with the tenderest affection, and the most sincere regret." "In private society," says a third," Dr. Dwight possessed uncommon powers to please and to instruct. With an inexhaustible stock of knowledge on almost every subject, and an ease of communication to which a parallel can hardly be found, he easily accommodated his remarks to the character and means of improvement of those with whom he conversed; and seldom failed to excite the highest respect and admiration. From the weakness of his eyes, and his consequent inability to employ himself much in reading, except by the assistance of others, he was led to devote more of his time to the society of his friends, than, perhaps, in other circumstances, he would have judged expedient. He ever considered the diversified conversation of a social circle, as affording the most rational,