meretricious ornaments, that perpetual splendour of diction, those studied efforts to dazzle by brilliant thoughts, and pompous expressions, which are now becoming but too common, and are always sure indications of a corrupt taste. His periods, it is true, are generally well turned, and harmonious, and he discovers no disinclination to receive legitimate embellishments of fancy, when they come to him unsought. His style is full, flowing and polished, but never glitters with gaudy ornaments. If there be any fault that is worthy of being noticed, it is the want of ease, grace and that artless simplicity which give to the production of some writers an irresistible charm. Whatever defects, however, a scrupulous criticism might descry in the compositions of this writer, they are compensated by his uniform perspicuity, strength and elegance, the most indispensible requisites in fine writing. Circumstances elicit the powers of authors, as well as the talents of those who perform their parts upon the active scenes of life, and are called upon to gain the ear of listening senates or sway the rod of empires. Had Dr. Smith lived at the time of the reformation, or at any critical and interesting period in the history of the church, when great interests were at stake and important controversies maintained, he would have been found one of the ablest champions, that ever espoused a cause. In the days of Luther, Calvin and Cranmer, when all his powers would have been excited into strenuous exertion, we very much overrate his talents, if he would not have approved himself a worthy coadjutor to those illustrious men and entirely equal to that sublime undertaking on which they had embarked.

As a pulpit orator he would have done honour to any age or nation. There was a dignity and even majesty in his person and appearance in the pulpit, as well as in his conceptions and style of speaking, which excited involuntary respect and commanded the most unremitted attention. He seems to have formed himself upon that imaginary model of a perfect pulpit orator, which Dr. Blair in his excellent lec

tures upon rhetoric has so well delineated, in whose sermons and mode of address there should be transfused into the sound sense and masterly argument of the English preachers, the spirit, fire and vehemence of the French. To a certain extent, it must be admitted, that he carried into execution what his mind had conceived. In his sermons there was always contained a large body of judicious and interesting matter, wrought with the highest art, and the whole animated with the glow of passion and imagination. Adorned by his genius the pulpit was converted into a fountain at once of light to illuminate the understandings of his hearers, and of heat to warm and fructify their hearts. We have often listened to preachers who, at times, would produce a more powerful effect upon their audience and awake more sensation; but we have never heard one who throughout the whole of his address afforded them a richer and more delightful repast. His discourses were always constructed with exquisite art and address, commencing with a regular exordium and exciting a deeper interest as he advanced through their different stages, and such was the earnestness and pathos of his mode of delivery, and his masculine eloquence, that the attention seldom flagged until he arived at the conclusion. His oratory was a gentle stream that flowed, for the most part equably and smoothly, but, which at times could swell into the force, impetuosity and sublimity of the torrent. His voice was clear, full and harmonious, his enunciation distinct, his gestures few, but significant and impressive, his whole appearance dignified and imposing, and, on some occasions, when he was more than usually excited by passion, every feature spoke, and that fine expressive eye, which nature had given him, became lighted up with a fire which penetrated every heart. In him we perceived no frothy decla mations, no little arts to captivate the vulgar, none of the tricks and flourishes of eloquence, with which the discourses of those preachers who aim at popularity are too frequently disgrac

ed. All was sober, chastened and dignified both in his matter and manner. A vein of ardent but rational piety ran through his discourses that warmed every bosom, and kept the devotional feelings in a state of agreeable and wholesome excitement. No one returned from the church in which he had officiated without being sensible his heart had been made better, his understanding furnished with useful aliment for reflection, and his moral feelings softened and improved. In his private qualities he was no less distinguished than in his public character. His person was somewhat above the ordinary size, his limbs well proportioned, his complexion fair and delicate, the features of his countenance which were regular, remarkably handsome, and strongly marked with the lines of thinking, were crowned by an open and manly forehead and a large blue eye, in a high degree expressive and penetrating, and which, when any thing interested him, kindled with intelligence and spoke the language of an ardent and noble mind. To a person thus well proportioned, he added an agreeable and insinuating address and an ease and urbanity of manners, that would have adorned the most polished circles and given grace and dignity to a court. His principles were all of a high and honourable kind, and bore the stamp of greatness and of the sternest integrity. No man had a deeper detestation of vice, or would more instinctively have shrunk from any act that would have cast a blemish upon the purity of his character. Slander did, indeed, as usual, fabricate against him her calumnious tale and essay to tarnish his reputation, and that envy which could not reach his excellence endeavoured to bring him down to its own level, but the uniform tenor of his life, answered and refuted the aspersions of his detracters. In domestic life his manners were amiable, affable and engaging. As a husband, parent and master, no one could be more gentle, affectionate and lenient in the exercise of discipline. To his family he was indulgent even to a fault. Arduous as were his public

duties and devoted as he was to the pursuit of science and literature, he found time to assist in the education of his own children, daughters as well as the only son that lived beyond the state of infancy; and after repeated strokes of the palsy had disqualified him from his attendance on the duties of the college, we find him spending the last remains of his strength in educating his little grand children, two sons of a favourite daughter, Mrs. Prevost, whom he had the misfortune to lose some years after her marriage. With politics he never publicly interfered, after the conclusion of the revolutionary war, although at its commencement in his youth, he is said to have assisted by his eloquent sermons, in exciting among the people in the state of Virginia a spirit of resistance to the measures at that time proposed and adopted by the parliament of England. He was a warm and decided friend to rational liberty, but a determined enemy to that democratick rage, which would level all those distinctions so necessary to the existence of society, pull down authorities and powers, and under the sacred name of liberty, give rise to a general insubordination and licentiousness, incompatable with the existence of a just and equal government. Under these impressions, he was a warm supporter of the administration of Washington, and ranked among those who amidst the party distinctions of the times, were denominated federalists. As a friend and companion, he is not so highly to be commended as for his domestic qualities. There was a coldness, reserve, and even stateliness in his demeanor, arising probably from his habits of abstract reflection and close application to study, which threw a damp at first upon the efforts of those who were desirous of approaching him on terms of intimacy and friendship. Upon more familiar intercourse, however, this reserve was laid aside towards those whom he esteemed, and his natural frankness, cordiality, and susceptibility of the tenderest attachments, appeared. Upon one thing his friends might calculate with per

fect confidence, that he would never deceive them by false appearances. He professed no regard which he did not feel, and where he made overtures of esteem and friendship, it was always done in candour and sincerity. His generous and noble mind, was infinitely superior to all dissimulation, disguise or artifice. He was equally above all intrigue and management to promote his own elevation. The honours which were conferred upon him, came to him unsought and unsolicited. To the advantages and splendour which are derived from wealth, he appeared to be entirely indifferent. Of these his own intrinsic worth and real greatness prevented from ever feeling the want, while his religion taught him to elevate his views and affections above them. His piety was genuine and sincere, without being obtrusive, deep and heartfelt without being gloomy, ardent but not noisy, active but not ostentatious. His uniform integrity and uprightness of conduct, his sedulous devotion to all his moral and religious duties, his unabated zeal for the promotion of the temporal and spiritual interests of his fellow-men, the readiness and alacrity with which he entered into all plans of usefulness, and above all, his calm, composed and happy exit from the world, showed, as far as such matters can be exhibited to the view of men, that he had a good conscience, and that the fear of God reigned in his heart, and was the ruling spring of all his actions. He has gone to his great account and we doubt not, that his works of piety and virtue will follow him, and through the mercy of his Creator, will render his futurity as blessed as his life was exemplary, and his death tranquil. The peace of Heaven be with his spirit.Illustrious man! A pupil who once revered thee as a preceptor and whom thou afterwards didst honour with thy friendship, would erect to thee this frail monument, as a memento at once of his gratitude and attachment. By the efforts of thy genius thou hast reared for thyself, an imperishable monument. Long shall thy memory be cherished by the