poem (what further proof of his affection for the lady is needed?) commencing thus:

So Paradise was brighten'd, so 'twas blest,
When innocence and beauty it possess'd.
Such was its more retired path and seat,
For Eve and musing angels a retreat.

Such Eden's streams and banks and towering groves,
Such Eve herself, and such her muse and loves.

Only there wants an Adam on the green,

Or else all Paradise might here be seen.

Miss Singer afterwards became Mrs Rowe, and the subject of our sketch went thrice to the altar before the close of his ministry, and each time, we believe, with a widow!

In 1699, Mr Colman returned to New England, and commenced a new career in the land of his nativity, as pastor of the church in Boston, now called the Brattle Street Society. In this station he remained till his death, nearly a half century afterward.

In 1724, the corporation of Harvard College elected him to succeed President Leverett, but he declined the honor they wished to confer on him, alleging affection for his church, and unwillingness to undertake an office above his capacity, as his reasons for refusing their offer.*

He received the honorary degree of Doctor in Divinity from the University in Glasgow in 1731, and after a long and well spent life expired in August 1747, in the seventyfourth year of his age.

Dr Colman was regarded in his day as a man possessing all those traits which constitute goodness of disposition, in its most comprehensive meaning. In the pulpit he was distinguished for his grace and dignity of manner, as well as for

*In a letter to Bishop Kennett on the subject, he says, "I have to plead my long disuse of academical studies, and also that I am not well in the opinion of our House of Representatives, on whom the President depends for subsistence."

his powers of persuasion and argument. In the private walks of life, he was hailed as one gifted in an eminent degree with the nobler qualities of our nature. His interest in public business brought upon him the blame of many, and he was charged with an officious intermeddling in civil and secular affairs. Whether an individual, capable of rendering his country a service, should withhold his efforts because he has been appointed to minister to the spiritual wants of a few, is a question that has caused much dispute. If you acknowledge him a subject to the laws, and a member of the government, which he maintains in obedience to the divine command, "Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's," you cannot but allow him to resist any infringement upon his own rights.* Dr Colman's opinion was, "that opportunities to do good not only legitimate the application of our capacities to do it, but also oblige and require us to do it."

His successor in the pulpit of the Brattle Street church,† has thus delineated Dr Colman: "Among the worthies of the Massachusetts clergy, we can perhaps select no character, which we may regard with more thorough esteem, than that of Dr Colman; and not much more may be said of any man. If his mind was not of that class, by which great revolutions are produced in the intellectual or social world, it was still one of uncommon comprehensiveness, penetration, wisdom, and activity; and it had been cultivated by an enlarged acquaintance with books and men. His writings, besides giving token of a liberal spirit, a well disciplined understanding, various knowledge, and a warm heart, show, for the period in which they were produced, a remarkable acquaintance with the true beauties of composition. To nature and to opportunity he was probably alike indebted for a manly and winning address."

*""Tis a foolish thing," says Selden, " to say the minister must not meddle with secular matters, because his own profession will take up the whole man. May he not eat, or drink, or walk, or learn to sing? The meaning of that is, he must seriously attend to his calling."

Rev. J. G. Palfrey.

His poetic remains are few. Two or three letters in rhyme addressed to his daughter, and Elijah's Translation, are all that we have found; but these place him far above his contemporaries in refinement of thought and language. His taste too, command of language, and skill in versification, are of a higher order than theirs, and incline us to the belief that had he cherished the muse with more fondness and attention, she would have bestowed her favors on him with a liberal hand.

ON ELIJAH'S TRANSLATION,

Occasioned by the death of the reverend and learned Mr Samuel Willard.

I SING the man, by heaven's peculiar grace,
The prince of prophets, of the chosen race,
Rais'd and accomplish'd for degenerate times,
To stem the ebb with faith and zeal sublime;
T'assert forsaken truth, to check the rage
Of rampant vice, and cure a wicked age.
Such times need such a prophet,-in his death
Is quench'd the light of Israel, and their breath.
Plain was the saint, his soul by grace refin'd,
His girdle mean, but much adorn'd his mind:
In face, as well as mind, above the toys
Of this vain world, and all its sensual joys:
Simple in diet, negligent of dress,
Hairy and rough his robe, meet to express
One mortify'd to things of time and sense,
To truth and things divine a love intense.
Jealous for Israel and the Lord of hosts,
Disdain'd to see Him rival'd by a post,
Mourn'd his forsaken covenant, and worship lost.
Courageous, dar'd alone to stand the shock,

Of numerous priests of Baal and to deride their stock.
Fác'd fierce tyrannous powers, told their crimes
And shames deserv'd the judgments of their times.
His and truth's triumphs glorious: strange to say!
A debauch'd nation convert in a day,
And sham'd, enrag'd imposters fled away!
A wondrous saint; inspir'd, employ'd and led
By heavenly love; by many wonders fed.
The care of heaven, the darling of his God,
Signally sav'd, cheer'd by His staff and rod.

Voracious ravens yield him up their prey:
Glad angels to his succor wing away :

And heaven, to show its empire more, commands
Hopeless relief from famishing widow's hands.
He pray'd, the sealed heavens withheld their rain;
He pray'd, the open'd clouds discharge again.
Provok'd he ask'd; strange blazing showers of flame
Stream down, and Sodom's day renewed came.
He struck the floods, the refluent waves divide;
His mantle's breath drove back the flowing tide.
What ail'd thee, O astonish'd sea, to fly?
Jordan! from Joshua's days thy banks not dry!
Yet greater wonders view: he spake, the dead
In sin, or grave, lift up their fallen head:
Witness the happy mother, fully won

To heaven as she receiv'd her raised son:
Blest work of grace! the mercy of the mean
Illustrious, as the saving change is seen.
Not less miraculous the prophet's fast,
Labors and travels gloriously surpass'd:
His strength and application, as his trust,
Noble and vast, angelic and august:
In public toils consum'd, of life profuse,
Exhausted in retired holy muse,

On the deep things of God, and mysteries abstruse.
Such labors bounteous heaven is wont to crown
With heavenly visions, light and joys unknown.
So heavenly glories dazzled Moses' eyes,

And laboring Paul was caught to paradise.
No less Elijah to his Saviour dear,

No less his cares and toils, his prayers and tears;
Nor less would heaven his suff'ring soul to cheer.
The God of Israel pass'd before the cave,

In majesty, as erst the law he gave,

And frighten'd nature seem'd to seek a grave.

Tempests, and flames, and earthquakes march'd before,
Speaking the terrors of almighty power;

These usher'd in the small still voice of grace;
His soul grew calm, serene the troubled place;
Hush'd as the winds were all his boisterous fears,
The humble saint, call'd forth by God, appears;
With mantle wrapt about his face he stood,
Afraid to hear, nor wish'd to see his God.
Yet lest the hero as his God we show,
Or he elate with visions, vain should grow,

At times his passions did the man betray,
That saints have sin, and prophets are but clay.
Too timorous, 'midst his triumphs; left to fly
A woman's rage and threats, and wish to die.
Desponding moan'd Christ of his church bereft,
And not a single saint in Israel left.

All to hide pride from man, to show how vain
We are at best, and undue thoughts restrain.
God is the light, in whom 's no shade at all,
To him in prostrate adorations fall.
Created brightness ever has its blots,
And even Persia's idol has its spots.
Yet admiration, reverence and love
Are due to saints on earth, or those above.
Sure the curst spirit that hates is born of hell,
Nor is less monster then foul Jezebel:

She murd❜rous sought his blood: Ahab his name
(Dearer than life) with slanderous lies defames:
And both invet'rate hate, and deadly war proclaim.
Yet spite of envy, spite of malice curst,

Virtue shall live: see, bloated fiend, and burst!
See the fair name immortal in my verse!
See the strew'd glories on the hero's hearse!
A name embalm'd shall be the just man's lot,

While vicious teeth shall gnash, and names shall rot.
Return, my muse, and sing his faithful care,
And noblest trust, in happy Bethel's chair.
Hail, venerable seat! from Jacob's days
Sacred to Israel's God, and to his praise !
Blest evermore with visions! the resort
Of holy angels! heaven's inferior court!
Hail dreadful place! the Eternal's blest abode !
The gate of heaven, and the house of God!
Here stood the spacious college, Israel's pride :
And here the illustrious seer did preside.
Stately the dome, worthy the beauteous train,
Religion pure devoted to maintain,

And to the age to come the laws divine explain.
Richly endow'd by every pious zeal,

Studious of Zion's glory and her weal:

Blest tribute! dear to heaven: a pious aid

Given to Christ, and liberally repaid

In richer blessings to the church and state;

So he returns us what we consecrate.

Hence Israel's chiefs, and hence our teachers came;