withstanding the languor of his frame, and the irritation of a harassing cough, he was prevailed on to exert his eloquence in that cause. An outline of his speech, corrected by himself, is here given, and it is rather eloquent, but shows, we think, something like debility-not of mind, for that was strong to the last, but of the bodily frame, which, if weak, disorders the spirit of speech. Mr Russell gives us an account of Mr Wolfe's reception on his return to his parish; and cold must be the heart that is not stirred by such a spectacle. "On his return from Scotland, the writer met him at a friend's house, within a few miles of his own residence; and, on the following Sunday, accompanied him through the principal part of his parish to the Church; and never can he forget the scene he witnessed as they drove together along the road, and through the village. It must give a more lively idea of his character and conduct as a parish clergyman than any laboured delineation, or than a mere detail of particular facts. As he quickly passed by, all the poor people and children ran out to their cabin-doors, to welcome him, with looks and expressions of the most ardent affection, and with all that wild devotion of gratitude, so characteristic of the Irish peasantry. Many fell upon their knees, invoking blessings upon him; and long after they were out of hearing, they remained in the same attitude, showing by their gestures that they were still offering up prayers for him; and some even followed the carriage a long distance, making the most anxious inquiries about his health. He was sensibly moved by this manifestation of feeling, and met it with all that heartiness of expression, and that affectionate simplicity of manner, which made him as much an object of love, as his exalted virtues rendered him an object of respect. The intimate knowledge he seemed to have acquired of all their domestic histories, appeared from the short but significant inquiries he made of each individual as he was hurried along; while, at the same time, he gave a rapid sketch of the particular characters of several who presented themselves-pointing to one with a sigh, and to another, with looks of fond congratulation.-It was, indeed, impossible to behold a scene like this, (which can scarcely be described,) without the deepest, but most pleasing emotions. It seemed to realize the often imagined picture of a primitive minister of the Gospel of Christ, living in the hearts of his flock, willing to spend, and to be spent upon them,' and enjoying VOL. XIX. the happy interchange of mutual affection. It clearly showed the kind of intercourse that habitually existed between him and his parishioners, and afforded a pleasing proof that a faithful and firm discharge of duty, when accompanied by kindly sympathies, and gracious manners, can scarcely fail to gain the hearts of the humbler ranks of the people. "It can scarcely be a matter of sur prise that he should feel much reluctance in leaving a station where his ministry appeared to be so useful and acceptable; and accordingly, though peremptorily required by the physician he had just consulted, to retire for some time from all clerical duties, it was with difficulty he could be dislodged from his post, and forced away to Dublin, where most of his friends resided." We cannot help saying that it is im possible to read the following para graph, without the most painful feelings. The ministers of religion ought not to be lodged so-and it was enough to kill poor Wolfe, now far gone, it is plain, in a consumption. "It was hoped that timely relaxation from duty, and a change in his mode of living to what he had been originally accustomed, and suitable to the present delicate state of his health, might avert the fatal disease with which he was threatened. The habits of his life while he resided on his cure, were in every respect calculated to confirm his constitutional tendency to consumption. He seldom thought of providing a regular meal; and bis humble cottage exhibited every appearance of the neglect of the ordinary comforts of life. A few straggling rush-bottomed chairs, piled up with his books,-a small rickety table before the fire-place, covered with parish memoranda; and two trunks containing all his papers,-serving at the same time to cover the broken parts of the floor, constituted all the furniture of his sitting-room. The mouldy walls of the closet in which he slept, were hanging with loose folds of damp paper; and between this wretched cell and his parlour, was the kitchen, which was occupied by the disbanded soldier, his wife, and their numerous brood of children, who had migrated with him from his first quarters, and seemed now in full possession of the whole concern, entertaining him merely as a lodger, and usurping the entire disposal of his small plot of ground, as the absolute lords of the soil." We come now to the death-bed of his family. Though his malady seemed to increase, and his frame to become more emaciated, still his natural spirits and mental elasticity continued unimpaired; so much so, that he continued to preach occasionally in Dublin with his usual energy, until the friendly physician to whom he had now submitted his case, absolutely forbade all present exercise of clerical duties. "About the end of November, it was thought advisable, as the last remaining hope, that he should guard against the severity of the winter, by removing to the Cove of Cork, which, by its peculiar situation, is sheltered on all sides from the harsh and prevailing winds. Thither he was accompanied by the writer, and a near relative, to whom he was fondly attached. For a short time he appeared to revive a little, and sometimes entered into conversation with almost his usual animation; but the first unfavourable change of weather shattered his remaining strength: his cough now became nearly incessant, and a distressing languor weighed down his frame. In this state he continued until the 21st of February 1823, upon the morning of which day he expired, in the 32d year of his age. "During the whole course of his illness, (though, towards the close, apparently not unconscious of his danger,) he never expressed any apprehensions to his friends, but once, that he suddenly observed a new symptom-to which he pointed with a look and expression of the gentlest, calmest resignation, He seemed particularly on his guard against uttering a word, which could excite the fears of the dear relative who clung so devotedly to him until his last moments. A short time before he died, she ventured to disclose to him her long concealed apprehensions, saying, (with a humility like his own,) that she felt she needed correction; and that, at last, the Lord had sent worm into her gourd :'-'What!' replied he, is it in afflicting me ?-indeed, I believe you love me sinfully. I may, however, bless this illness if it lead me to more spiritual communion with you than before.' a "One night that his animal spirits were particularly depressed, he said to her, I want comfort to-night;' and, upon her reminding him of the blessings he had been the instrument of conveying to the souls of many of his nearest relatives, he faintly exclaimed, Stop-stop-that is comfort enough for one night.' "It is natural for a religious mind to feel a lively interest in every record of the last illness and death of any eminent servant of God-to expect some happy evi dences of triumphant faith and holy resignation in such a trying state-at the awful moment when all the vast realities of an eternal world are about to be disclosed to the disembodied spirit. There are some persons, who perhaps look for such evidences chiefly in ardent ejaculations-in affecting expressions of self-humiliation-in palpable impressions of present comfort, or raptures of joyful anticipation; but these may not be, after all, unequivocal or indispensable tests of the presence and power of true faith. It should not be forgotten, how much depends upon the state of the animal system at such times-upon the nature of the complaint, or even on the peculiar constitution of the mind itself. As in the case of the steadfast and holy Christian here recorded, the disease may be such as to encumber the faculties of the soul by a peculiar pressure upon the body. The corruptible part may weigh down the mind which museth on many things,' and thus incapacitate it for any energetic manifestation of its feelings. It was the nature of his particular malady to bring on an oppressive lassitude of spirits; and he was also afflicted with a racking cough, which, for some time before his death, disabled him from speaking a single sentence without incurring a violent paroxysm. "One interesting fact, however, may prove with more certainty than a thousand rapturous expressions, the ascendancy of his faith in the midst of these depressing circumstances. "On the day before his dissolution, the medical gentleman who attended him felt it his duty to apprize him of his immediate danger, and expressed himself thus: Your mind, sir, seems to be so raised above this world that I need not fear to communicate to you my candid opinion of your state.'-'Yes, sir,' replied he, I trust I have been learning to live above the world :' and he then made some impressive observations on the ground of his own hopes; and, having afterwards heard that they had a favourable effect, he entered more fully into the subject with him on his next visit, and continued speaking for an hour, in such a convincing, affecting, and solemn strain, (and this at a time when he seemed incapable of uttering a single sentence,) that the physician, on retiring to the adjoining room, threw himself on the sofa, in tears, exclaiming, There is something superhuman about that man: -it is astonishing to see such a mind in a body so wasted,-such mental vigour in a poor frame dropping into the grave!' "Let not then the cold sceptic (to maintain a precarious theory on uncertain observations) seek to degrade his own nature, in the face of facts like this, by identifying the imperishable soul with its frail tenement. There are moments, he' may see, at which that divine and immaterial principle can throw off the pressure of its earthly encumbrance, even when it appears to slumber in a deadly torpor. When its own appropriate excitements are presented to it, it can 'burst its cerements,' and rise superior to the ruins amidst which it seems to be buried. "This incident is abundantly sufficient to indicate the strength of principle and the ardour of feeling which may possess the soul at a time when, perhaps, it finds no utterance. His feelings indeed appeared too deep for superficial expressions. The state of mind towards which he seemed to aspire, was what the excellent Henry Martin preferred above all others a sweet and holy seriousness :' and, indeed, he seemed to have attained it. His was a calm serenity-a profound thoughtfulness-a retired communion with his God, which could not, probably, vent itself in verbal ebullitions; but, when an opportunity of doing good to the soul of a fellow-sinner presented itself, he showed how strongly he felt the Gospel to be the power of salvation to his own soul,' by his zeal to impart it to another. "It is important thus to see that true religion consists not so much in the constant fervour of the feelings, as in a fixedness of principle,-in the intelligent determinate choice of the will;-that the one may fluctuate, while the other remains steadfast and immovable. "From the time that Mr W. came to Cove, he seemed scarcely to relish any subject of conversation but that which bore upon what is, in truth, at all times 'the one thing needful.' "His Bible was his chief companion: -he seemed also deeply interested in Worthington's treatise on self-resignation;' and occasionally read, with satisfaction, 'Omicron's Letters by the Rev. J. Newton.' "Upon the subject of religion he was always peculiarly indisposed to controversy. He delighted to seize the great principles-to embrace the vital truths; and read with pleasure any author in whose writings he could find them: he valued as brethren, all who maintained them, and diligently sought to co-operate with them in their works and labours of love.' His own views seemed not to have undergone any change from the time of his ordination; but they became more and more vivid, and of course more influential upon his principles and affections. 66 This During the last few days of his life, when his sufferings became more distressing, his constant expression was, light affliction-this light affliction !'and, when the awful crisis drew near, he still maintained the same sweet spirit of resignation. Even then, he showed an instance of that thoughtful benevolencethat amiable tenderness of feeling which formed a striking trait in his character;he expressed much anxiety about the accommodation of an attendant who was sleeping in the adjoining room; and gave even minute directions respecting it. "On going to bed he felt very drowsy; and, soon after, the stupor of death began to creep over him. He began to pray for all his dearest friends individually; but, his voice faltering, he could only say, God bless them all!'-'The peace of God and of Jesus Christ overshadow them-dwell in them-reign in them!" My peace,' said he, addressing his sister, (the peace I now feel) be with you !'- Thou, O God, wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee.' His speech again began to fail, and he fell into slumber; but, whenever his senses were recalled, he returned to prayer. He repeated part of the Lord's Prayer, but was unable to proceed; and, at last, with a composure scarcely credible at such a moment, he whispered to the dear relative who hung over his deathbed,- Close this eye-the other is closed already-and now, farewell!' Then, having uttered part of the Lord's Prayer, he fell asleep. He is not dead but sleepeth.' The tale is well told-needs no comment, and is full of divine instruction. Having given such copious extracts from the Memoir of Mr Wolfe's Life, there is little room left for specimens of his compositions, either in prose or verse. The truth is, that on reaching maturest manhood, literary ambition, which had with him been a strong but never immoderate, boyish, and youthful passion, ceased to be an active principle of his life, overcome almost to extinction by other principles of a very different kind. He seems to have dedicated all his powers to the duties of his sacred profession; and his poetical power, being rather the property of a finely constituted mind, awake to beauty and to grandeur, than an ori◄ ginal genius for the divine art, it was easily sunk, but not lost, in that total dedication of self to the service of religion, which so affectingly characterized him to the last hour of his existence. Accordingly we find few aspirations breathed after the honours and triumphs of successful genius-none of those alternations of hope, despondency, and fear, which agitate the soul of the young poet looking into the sunbright world of the imagination. If Wolfe ever experienced such fluctuations of feeling, he has never expressed them; but we believe he never did; for his whole soul took another direction, with all its noble forces and affections, and melancholy as his fate was in some respects, neither he nor his friends had any reason to lament his choice. The few fragments which he has left behind him will always secure to him a place among those beautiful spirits who breathed forth just enough of their imaginative nature to show the poetry that was within them, while the good he did, and was striving to do, in his humble sphere, among the vicious and the ignorant, will plead for him at a tribunal where all the glories of genius, merely as such, will be as nothing. We have to lament none of those earthly stains on his moral character, which have too often marred the loveliness of young genius, and made us regard it even with disgust, fear, and pity. He was strong, serene, and secure in his innocence; preserved in his youth from all evil by a native disposition towards cheerful and tranquil enjoy ments, and a native power over intellectual pursuits; and in his manhood by a piety as profound as ever possessed a human soul, and operative on his daily practice in the laborious life he led in obscurity. We have selected some admirable observations on various subjects, as proofs of the strength and clearness of his intellectual discernment. "It is curious to observe what sources Superstition used to furnish to Imagination, and what civilization has supplied for them. This may be aptly illustrated by the circumstance of eclipses. These formerly excited a real and present terror in barbarous minds, and gave a wild and violent impulse to their imaginations. Civilization has dried up this fountain for the fancy; but has supplied the knowledge of that glorious system of the Universe, which, though it does not so imperiously demand consideration, yet, when considered, displays a much more magnificent and extensive field for Imagination, which thus seems to have even gained by its alliance with Truth. "Imagination seems almost necessary to Truth and Reason; and often, first suggests what Reason afterward proves; and afterwards seems necessary (at least, with such limited beings as we are) to admire its results. "There is a degree of alliance between Truth and Imagery. We look for a degree of probability in the wildest fits of Fancy; and require, at least, apparent harmony and coherence, and a consistency with human nature. "Imagination it is which sustains hope, joy, &c. Shall we then part with it in Heaven? It appears to be a partial exertion of a more general faculty-a love of the sublime and beautiful; so that this our lovely earthly companion, with whom we have wandered over mountain and wild, and by whose side we have reposed in glen and valley,-this our wayward and romantic guardian, may rise when we rise, and become glorified with us in Heaven. "Men who accustom themselves to take comprehensive views of practical subjects, often forget the application to themselves as individuals, in considering the effect upon the aggregate of mankind, or upon collective bodies. Thus men, and justly appreciate the good effects of who, with a view to raise the character, Christianity, employ themselves much in considering its influence upon society, and uninfluenced by its precepts. One are sometimes ignorant of its doctrines, reason is, that in considering the aggregate of mankind, the individual is kept out of view; another, that many of the effects upon society are merely temporal, and all come short of those which it produces upon any one individual, upon whom it is practically influential; another is, the pride that naturally accompanies the mind which is possessed of those comprehensive powers. "It might be at once one of the most certain and the most agreeable methods of decomposing and developing the ingredients of human nature, to take some of those passages of undoubted and transcendent excellence which are supplied by Poetry, Oratory and polite literature in general, and by altering one or two the less prominent words or expressions, perhaps a mere particle, into one apparently synonymous, to observe the change of feeling produced by change of phrase, and pursue it to its source. This would be a species of metaphysical analysis, in which, from real though delicate and unobtrusive data, we might, by cautious reasoning, arrive at abstract principles. For if a change of feeling is produced, if we feel a disappointment at any alteration, however slight, the pleasure or pain is as real, though not as intense, as the most extravagant joy or the most violent agony. Thus we should detect many a pleasure (as we often do) only by its loss; and, what is still more important, would be guided in the progress of reasoning, to its principles, and prevented from indulging in fanciful and extravagant speculation, by having two feelings to compare or contrast-the pleasure with its disappointment. This might lead to a knowledge of the principles of our nature,-to an acquaintance with the delicacy of language and style, -to a radical improvement of taste, and to a perception of the more retiring, but, perhaps, the more exalted beauties of literature. "The question between (I believe) Voltaire and Rousseau, Whether the savage or the civilized state were preferable,' is one of the greatest arguments for the utter depravation of our species. The mere naked fact, that such a question had arisen among rational beingswhether they should continue in a state allied to the brute, or exert the very faculties which constituted them a species, is enough—we need go no farther. "Irish Music often gives us the idea of a mournful retrospect upon past gaiety, which cannot help catching a little of the spirit of that very gaiety which it is lamenting. "There appears to be two species of Eloquence,-one arising from a clear and intense perception of Truth; the other, from a rich and powerful Imagination. "The milk of human nature appears under as many different modifications in the dispositions of men, as the substance, to which it is compared, undergoes in the dairy. In some men of a perpetual and impregnable good humour, it has all the oiliness and consistency of butter; in those of a liberal and generous disposition, it has all the richness of cream; in men of a sickly habit of mind, it has all the mawkish insipidity of whey and in a large portion of the community, it possesses all the sourness of butter-milk. : "Solitude and Society may be illustrated by a Lake and River. In the one, indeed, we can view the Heavens more calmly and distinctly; but, we can also see our own image more clearly, and are in danger of the sin of Narcissus: while, in the river, the view both of the Heavens and of ourselves is more broken and disturbed; but, health and fertility is scattered around. "Those who cavil at the apparent clashing of the attributes of the Deity, and at the control which they appear to exercise mutually upon each other, involuntarily fall into a species of Paganism. They distribute the Deity into so many different essences:-they, in fact, deify his attributes, and make so many independent Gods. Whereas, the division of the Deity into attributes is only an accommodation to the weakness of human faculties. He is the simple-perfect Deity,-of single and uncompounded energy; like the solar ray, appearing more pure and simple than its ingredients. "One difficulty of a preacher is-to balance the terrors and comforts of religion-a difficulty in style rather than in matter. Those who speak upon other subjects have generally to give the mind a strong impulse in one direction, because their object is generally to produce one certain specific act, i. e. a vote on a certain side; but, the preacher has to induce a habit of acting, to regulate a man's hopes and fears.-This perhaps is one argument against extemporaneous preaching. "Shall the word of a Physician alter our regimen?-Shall a few hundreds added to, or subtracted from our fortune, alter our style of living,—and yet shall a visit from God produce no change ?— Shall Heaven have descended upon earth, --and earth remain what it was?-Shall the Spirit of God have communed with me, and shall my soul return unpurified from the conversation? "Christ is God manifest:'-He is the Word-God heard:-the Light— God seen:-the Life-God felt. "The difference between our Lord's style of prophecy, and that of all other Prophets, is this:-He seems to speak with a clear steady perception of futurity, as if his eye was just as calmly fixed upon future events, as if the whole were a present occurrence. The Prophets appear only to have a picture, or a strong delineation of their prominent features, and their imaginations became heated and turbid, and agitated and confused. "One of the uses of obscurity in the Bible, is to excite curiosity, and to make an exercise for the faculties as well as for the affections and dispositions, in order that the whole man may be employed in |