The very nature of this principle implies a constant reference to God of all our thoughts and of our whole conduct. Whoever is influenced by the fear of the Lord, will find pleasure in thinking upon his Name: other subjects may occasionally occupy the mind; but to this the mind will immediately recur, whenever it can escape from the commerce of the world, and will then be most sweetly occupied when engaged in communion with God. My meditation of him shall be sweet," saith David: "I will be glad in the Lord." From this brief account of the character of the righteous, we proceed, in the second place, to notice the honour which is conferred upon them even in the present life. "A book of remembrance was written before Him for them that feared the Lord and that thought upon his Name." The mode of expression in this passage seems to be derived from the custom of princes, who insert in a book, with a view to future promotion, the names of such persons as they think worthy of particular regard. The general instruction to be drawn from it is, an assurance of the watchful care and providence of God. And how full of consolation is this idea to all that fear the Lord and that think upon his Name! The world may treat them with reproach; but He that is greater than the world watches over them for good. The ungodly may cast out their names as evil; but they are to be read in the tablet of the skies. Like the church of old, they may sometimes, in a moment of despondency, be ready to exclaim, "The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me:" but what would be the answer? "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget; yet will I not forget thee. I have graven thee upon the palms of my bands." The declaration is an CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 158. earnest of constant and universal protection to the righteous, while on earth, and of a memorial which never can perish. He may sink like others into the grave, and be forgotten of men; but his name is written in heaven, and it will not be blotted out. For the text points also, thirdly, to a future reward:-"They shall be mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in the day when I make up my jewels." "They shall be mine in that day."-And to whom, then, do they belong, whilst they remain in this state of mortality? Are they not even here the children of God? Hath not Christ even now redeemed them to himself, as a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people? They are not their own, for they are bought with a price; their body and their spirit are God's. If they have crucified the affections and lusts, even in this life, they are Christ's; and if they belong to Christ, they belong also to God. But at the last day, when the judgment is set, and the books are opened; when the Son of God shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be admired in all them that believe, they will become his in the most absolute and unlimited sense. He will confess them before his Father and his holy angels. They will be his exclusively, perfectly, and eternally. They will behold his face, and stand around his throne; not a cloud shall intervene to veil the presence of their God, and all the happiness and glory of heaven will be their's. They will be raised to the possession of a kingdom, and they shall rejoice for ever and ever. Reflections of this sort appear to be suited to an occasion, when we bend over the tombs of those who have appeared as lights in the world, and have departed, as we have reason to trust, in the true faith and fear of Christ. It is useful for the living, in such cases, to take a lesson from the dead; and S mory and casual information have supplied. The basis of his intellectual character was calm and profound reHe loved to take no principle for granted which might be traced out into simpler elements: and his independence in pursuing such researches for himself, was not more remarkable than the patient and steady labour of thought with which he conducted them. With these qualities, which might otherwise have only led into error, were happily united eminent sound. ness of judgment, a supreme love of truth, and great elevation of mind. He was long in deciding, but not indecisive; cautious, but sure; and when he had once formed an opinion, acted upon it with unwavering steadiness and energy. It is not possible to conceive a human mind more free from prejudice or littleness in its manner of viewing a subject: he always thought on a great scale; always took his observations as from a hill, and through a serene and unclouded atmosphere. it is with this view especially, as This largeness of view led him to appreciate every subject on which human thought can be exercised. He could not be indifferent to any laudable or inuocent pursuit, which attracted the attention of others. Considering his numerous avocations through the whole of life, it is surprising to what a variety of topics he had directed his reflection. He was, indeed, too close a thinker to be lightly diverted from any particular line of contemplation or inquiry, which happened for the time to be among the favourite pursuits of his leisure hours. Of these he generally had two or three; and as the course of public or private occurrences, or that of his own reading, perpetually renewed them, his range of thought, instead of gradually narrowing down, as is often the case, to a few fixed topics, continued to expand during the whole of his life. It is possible, that some persons may have inferred from the strictness of his principles, or from some fancied reserve in his manners, that he was a harsh judge of mankind. There cannot be an opinion more incorrect. To say that he was totally free from censoriousness, would be saying far too little. His standard of excellence was indeed extremely high, and no circumstances could tempt him to lower it; yet, in the application of it to individual instances, even where he could not but disapprove, he was not only singularly on his guard against even a feeling, however slight, of bitterness or undue severity, but active and sagacious in discovering the minutest ingredients of mitigation, which the case admitted. A fairer and more equitable judge never existed. If he was proof against the contagion of popular partiality, he was equally unswayed by popular prejudice. In him candour and lenity were not weaknesses or impulses, but virtues; and, for that reason, were far more constantly to be relied upon than that passionate and partial indulgence which is, in fact, only a more refined selfishness. I have mentioned the fancied reserve of his manners. Strangers were certainly apt, on a slight intercourse, to think him somewhat cold and distant. I remember the time, when this was my own opinion: but it is wonderful how soon the impression was usually corrected; and it is but just to observe, that as life advanced, the real suavity of his disposition became more and more visible in his external deportment. His conversation was, indeed, of too reflective and disquisitory a cast, to be always pleasing to superficial minds; yet no person, however moderate in acquirements, could enter even once into familiar discourse with him, without being struck by his total exemption from every kind and degree of stateliness, affectation, or disguise. To those who saw him more familiarly in private life, this quality appeared still more eminently remarkable. His confidence, though not rashly bestowed, was uncommonly kind and unreserved: and persons admitted to his friendship, were often perfectly penetrated by the frankness and condescension with which be laid open to them his whole mind, and even asked their advice, though greatly his inferiors in age and wisdom. Nor did he rigidly restrict these marks of regard to one or two favoured individuals: he was indeed select in his friendships; but he had a large heart; and wherever he thought that he saw good dispositions, and an ingenuous nature, he readily stretched forth the right hand of kindness. As one presumptive proof of this unaffected candour and frankness of temper, I may mention, his high esti mation of these properties in other men. If there was any one class of persons, whose mental qualifications he was apt, notwithstanding the clearness of his judgment, to overrate, it consisted of those who evinced genuine feelings, and an open and communicative turn of mind. No man, in fact, ever possessed a more genuine and solid character than himself: none better appreciated those who were distinguished by the same excellence. One of his most amiable characteristics was, the interest with which he promoted the growth and watched the developement of youthful talent or virtue. Young persons of unsophisticated minds were admitted to the freest intercourse with him: he delighted to converse with them, to read with them, and to draw them into friendly discussion either on moral or political subjects of a useful nature, or on works of taste. This paternal benevolence was rewarded by the free acquisition of a paternal influence. His kindness, his counsels, not uttered with awful gravity, nor introduced with careful insinuation, but naturally poured forth by the flow of his own mind, could not fail to produce a deep impression on those whom he so honoured; and many are the hearts, beyond the circle of his weeping and orphan family, which are now saddened by the reflection, that they have lost at once a guide, a counsellor, and a familiar friend. Of his philanthropy, his humanity, his unwearied charities, it is scarcely necessary to speak. During these many years, what labour of love has been performed, either in the senate, or in the way of charitable contribution, in which this our friend was not an eminent leader? And, notwithstanding the secrecy with which he dispensed his private alms, to whom are they not known? It was in vain for a liberality so active and overflowing to shun the light. The gratitude of relieved and rejoicing families; of the poor, the afflicted, and the fatherless, has a voice which is not to be silenced the blessing of him that was ready to perish is loud: the song of the widows' heart caunot rise unheard. I will not, therefore, dwell on this point further than to say, that as he was used on no occasion to deny his assistance to the claims of distress and indigence, or even to the fair exigencies of persons in less humble stations of life, so, in all his liberalities of both kinds, he acted, not from a romantic sensibility, but from genuine feeling, directed by sound principle. He considered himself as a steward, entrusted by Providence with treasures not his own, and which it was as much his duty to distribute with economy, as with generosity. Hence his extensive donations were habitually well directed; and the large portion of his annual income which he set apart for purposes of benevolence, became still larger in its effect, by being measured out with an exact and prudent hand. As I have said little of his phi lanthropy, so I need not detain you on another bright feature of his character; I mean, his high and stainless integrity. Purer hands were never engaged in the transaction of human affairs. He was not only clear from many little obliquities of conduct that are observable in persons who yet maintain a tolerable reputation in the world, but he scrupulously avoided those low self-preferences, those petty evasions, those deviations from the strictest and straightest rule of justice, which are often excused as fair stratagems or pardonable infirmities. His professional and his public character, however, are so well known, both to the world in general and to many who now hear me, that I am content with merely suggesting the subject to your recollection and renewed respect. In this sacred place, I will not stop to mention, that he excelled in some slighter accomplishments, which, beyond the circle of his immediate associates, he was not even suspected of possessing. Neither will I so far obtrude on the sanctity of the house of mourning, during its first flow of sorrow, as minutely to describe the domestic virtues which have "ceased from the gate." Yet it would be unpardonable not to observe, that the character so excellent and so much honoured abroad, was beautifully consistent with itself in private life. What constant and unaffected kindness! What perpetual evenness of temper! What careful attention to the welfare, both spiritual and temporal, of all around him! What ready communicativeness of discourse on all subjects! What an unwearied solicitude, directed by the most excellent judgment, to educate the minds, call out the faculties, improve the tastes, and form the principles of those over whom' a disconsolate parent is now weeping as fatherless! I now come to a topic which I have purposely reserved for the last in this imperfect delineation of our lamented brother: I mean, his religious character. I venture to make his qualification in this respect thus prominent, not because I think it an admirable addition to his other excellencies, but because I feel convinced that it lay at the root and foundation of them all. He did thus well, because "he feared the Lord, and thought upon his Name." Doubtless, many sons and daughters of men have done virtuously; many splendid actions have been performed, and many great qualities exhibited, even by worldly men: but where, except in the school of Christ, shall we find that entireness of moral character; that impartial regard to all the rules of right; that assemblage of whatsoever things are true, or honest, or praiseworthy, or virtuous; which we are at this moment contemplating with sad admiration? O, my brethren! such excellence, in a partaker of our frail and ruined nature, is the fruit of many prayers and meditations. It is only on our bended knees that we can receive the baptism of the Spirit which shall thoroughly furnish us to good works. It is only from the altar of the covenant that man can imbibe that heavenly fire which shall enable him to shine before the world with the light of charity, purity, uprightness, and holiness. Although our deceased friend had the benefit of a religious education, yet he early betook himself to an earnest, deliberate and dispassionate inquiry upon the subject of religion; an inquiry prosecuted, I have no doubt, with all that accuracy of examination and labour of thought, that distrust of first impressions, and that judicious balancing of opposite probabilities, which formed a distinguishing feature of his mind. Through the blessing of God on this conscientious search after truth, the result was, that he not only acquiesced in the general authority of Revelation, but determined to embrace it with his whole heart, to form his life on its precepts, and found his kopes on its promises. The doc trines which he adopted were those acknowledged by the Church of England; and to her communion he sincerely and resolvedly attached himself, but without any uncharitable censure of those who might prefer a different creed. It is to this event, as I have already observed, that the superiority of his character in after-life may be traced. Had he forsaken the principles in which he was educated, and contentedly sunk into a state of irreligion, his vigorous powers might have been known to the world, only in exertions of a pernicious nature. Or, had he trifled with his conscience, and continued to move on in wretched uncertainty between belief and unbelief, between God and mammon, his mind would have been crippled by this indecision, and nothing like clear, strong, and consistent excellence, in any line, could have been produced. But religion gave scope to his elevation. His powerful faculties, casting root as it were into this good soil, expanded themselves with freedom, and, by the grace of God, produced abundant fruits of righteousness. In entering for one moment more particularly into the nature of his religion, I would beg leave to point out two peculiarities in it, which, when taken in connexion with the character of the individual himself, seem to me extremely striking. First, His religion was of a devotional nature. It was a religion which strongly interested his affections. I do not mean, that it was made up of warm sallies or visionary raptures; or even that it habitually indulged in strong and lively emotions of mind. Little do they know of a deep, and cherished, and lasting affection, who imagine that it consists in starts and passions, or lives in a perpetual ardency and violence. But as the subject of these remarks was far from every kind and degree of this false or forced warmth, so did he equally keep aloof from the error of men, |