"I should delight to go on thus, talking to you of our pastor's character. In all its parts the contemplation of it must be profitable and edifying to young and old. I should delight to say more to you of that humble and unreserved trust in God which sustained him under sufferings such as few have experienced, of his submissive acquiescence in the whole will of his heavenly Father, and of the cheerful fortitude which never left him even in the hour of death. In the early stages of the disease which first attacked him, when expressing my anxiety at his acute bodily sufferings, he would speak of them almost with contempt; but when he thought of the peculiar nature of the disease in its influences upon the mental energies, of its power to benumb and retard those exercises of the mind in which his joy and his usefulness consisted, then it was that his fortitude was called to its severest test. Bodily pain,' he would say, 'is nothing; it is not worthy of a thought, if there be but a free use of the powers of the mind; while these are left untouched, we can bear all which God sends us; and still, if these are affected, we shall not be forsaken.' When travelling with him in a more recent stage of his illness, he once spoke freely upon the prospect before him. I think,' said he, 'that a few months, at most, must settle all questions. I have no fear of the result. I dread not death, but to look forward to years of uselessness to being a burthen instead of being a helper to others this, I will confess, is terrible to me. But I have no fears that God will forsake me.' Since his entire confinement to his chamber he has more than once repeated this to me, 'I have never felt myself forsaken for a moment, and I have no fear but that I shall be supported to the end.'

-

"It is but a few short weeks since I had a brief but most cheerful conversation with him upon his prospects after his change was passed. He spoke of his 'friends in heaven' as familiarly as of those in another city, and told me I should smile if I knew whom he most often thought of meeting. I told him I supposed he thought of many who would there be his familiar companions, whom I could only hope to see as they passed by far above me. Some,' said he, will have gotten far ahead of us all, but we shall be within the influence of and receive happiness from the highest of all.' A few nights before his death I said to him, Your cup of affliction seems deeply drugged; and as God chasteneth whom he loveth, may you not feel that you have great proof of his love; or, at least, that he sees that your faith will bear great trials?' 'We should be careful not to look upon any temporal circumstances,' he replied, as in themselves marks of God's anger or approbation. We may look upon the temper with which we meet these circumstances as evidences of our Christian state.' I told him it had been said that perhaps he was suffering for our benefit, that we might see the power of Christian principles set forth in him, and that thus he was adding to the amount of good which he had already done in the world. His tone in reply seemed to reprove me for even this slight allusion to his virtues and his usefulness

for no man ever shrank from praise as he did. Whatever good I have done,' said he, let God have the praise.' I added, 'You will let him have your gratitude also, that he has made you the instrument of so much good.' 'I wish not,' he said, 'to depreciate the good that I may have done, or to pretend ignorance of it. But of my own deficiencies I am more sensible than any other person can be. And this I know, that if I attain heaven, it will not be because,

I have earned it. Eternal life is the gift of God, and,' added he after a pause, it will be given to those who have formed and cherished a taste for its joys. That I may have acquired some relish for its felicities affords me consolation and hope." On parting with him I expressed the hope that he might have a quiet night. I shall have such a night as God sends,' was his calm reply.

"Such were the occasional expressions of a mind full of resignation, humility, and faith. He never loved to talk of himself, and death-bed gossip was his abhorrence. Whatever he said came so in the natural course of remark, that it is only by retracing general conversations that anything of the kind can be recalled. There was, to the last hour of his life, a calm dignity, a naturalness, and a self-possession, to which I recur with increasing astonishment.

"How full his heart was of love towards others, how much more he ever thought of them than of himself, the youngest of you, who knew him with any intimacy, must have seen and felt. How engrossing to his thoughts and affections were the welfare and improvement of the people of his charge we all know. The pains and debility of sickness, so far from excluding these subjects from his mind, seemed chiefly felt inasmuch as they debarred him from ministering to the service of his beloved flock. Only a few evenings before his death he sent for me expressly to mention a kindness which he had for some time wished to perform for one of his society, but to which, finding death was about to prevent his ever performing it, he wished me to attend. This was done when speaking was almost agony to him.

"But why do I go on thus? I must restrain myself, or I shall defeat my chief object, which was to impress deeply upon your thought a few points in the character of him whom we lament, which you, as well as others, are capable of imitating. His whole character is the rich legacy which he has left us; and, profuse as were his efforts to do us good while he was with us, if we faithfully use this bequest, we shall find it a treasure exhaustible only with the mine from which he drew all its riches."

“Are we ready to exclaim, Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth? Let us not forget that there is indeed help with God. Let no desponding thoughts find place in our minds for ourselves, for society, or for the church. Remember how he said, while he was yet with us, how often he said it, when clouds of gloom seemed to overhang every prospect, -God loves his own cause better than we can love it, and he will never forsake it.""

After these specimens, we believe our readers will agree with us in the opinion that the writer of this Address could hardly perform a more acceptable service to the church than to give an extended biography of Dr. Parker, a work for which, we repeat it, we are sure no one can be better qualified in all essential respects. We hope very soon to learn that the work is undertaken.

G. NICHOLS.

153

CORRESPONDENCE AND INTELLIGENCE.

A LETTER ON THE COLDNESS OF NEW-ENGLAND PREACHING.

MESSRS. EDITORS,

Were it not that I have appeared as a contributor in your periodical, I would tell you that I like it much and believe that it will do great good. What I like in your plan is, that you propose to speak a plain and direct language to the people. The people have too often been overlooked, or courted only for base purposes. Preachers and writers too frequently address themselves only to the few, and glad am I that you propose to speak for and to the many.

I wish you would undeceive the public on a point of some consequence to us New-Englanders. You know we are called a cold, unfeeling people. When we complain of the style of sermonizing usually adopted by our clergy, and ask why it is not as bold, glowing, breathing, impassioned as that of the south and west, we are told, our cold northern manner forbids it. Now I do not believe a word of this. I know the New-England character; I know the New-England climate is cold; I know the wind that comes over her bleak hills and granite mountains is cold; I know that the exterior of her sons and daughters is cold; but she has a soul of fire. No part of our country presents a population more susceptible, not of a crackling fanaticism, but of a deep and burning enthusiasm. Nowhere else will you find that restlessness, that eternal desire to grasp something which they have not- that sure indication of the soul's thirst for perfection in a greater degree than in New England, cold, calculating, mercenary as she has been called.

Where live the American poets? where the most popular and thrillingly eloquent of American prose-writers? I answer not; but whoever does answer will refute the false impression gone abroad against New England. Where, again, were born those eloquent men of the west? Who were their parents? What is the west, but a child of New England? Do you ask why the child surpasses the mother? I answer, simply because the mother is the slave of etiquette, while the child indulges freely all the promptings of the soul, -now following its grave, now its frolicsome, humour; laughing when pleased, crying when grieved; and often passing from the laughing to the crying, and from the crying to the laughing, so rapidly, that smiles and tears are frequently mingled. Let the mother break the fetters which restrain the motions of her soul, and she will yet prove herself worthy of her child.

The great fault of our northern eloquence is not chargeable to the people, but to our orators. I thought when I came into New England that the people were incapable of feeling the power of eloquence. It was one of my hasty thoughts, drawn from the first appearance. No people can feel genuine eloquence better than New Englanders. Go where you will, the churches demand it. The great complaint against our clergy, a complaint almost universal, — not among strangers, but among ourselves, - is, that our clergy want life, want earnestness, want boldness and directness. I hear this everywhere. The people are hungering aud thirsting for a more efficient ministry; they are dying for the want of that warm, bold, energetic manner which it is said our northern manner forbids.

Am I wrong? Have our clergy tried the experiment? Have they

been too eloquent, too pungent in their appeals to conscience, too direct in their applications of the threatenings of the Divine law, too consoling in speaking of the promises of the gospel? Have they been too impassioned, too forgetful of self, and of everything but the subject they would bring home to men's minds and hearts? If they have, if they have gone so far as to be called extravagant, then I withdraw my complaint.

To me there is something almost criminal in this coldness in the pulpit.. What is the minister's duty? What does he see? A world lying in wickedness, death raging, friends and brothers dying, dying in sin, while he holds in his hand the remedy, that which saves from sin and imparts a life which is forever. He sees the sinner on the brink of the precipice, now raising his foot for the step which dashes him to pieces. Can he wait to cull the words in which to admonish him of his danger? stop to round the period in which to tell him to "Hold! another step is death"? No; he cannot, if he sees the danger. He who sees the awful condition of the sinner, who feels the magnitude of the evil of sin, cannot stop to select his words, to round and polish his periods, and cull the flowers of elocution, which will fade ere a soul can feel their beauty. No, he will speak right on. He will pour out his whole soul, in a stream of strong, rushing, overwhelming eloquence. He will see nothing but the sinner and his peril, the sinner and his means of safety; he will not, when he sees the sinner writhing with agonies of remorse, or ready to be enveloped in the flames of that fire which shall not be quenched, stop to correct his syntax, and to model his pronunciation after the latest approved standard. No; he will call mightily upon God to help; he will call upon the sinner; he will bid him flee from danger; to run, and to run for his life to the city of refuge, in tones that shall thrill through the soul and sink deep into the heart. We want ministers who see and feel, and will speak in this manner. The state of the world demands a ministry that can forget everything but Christ and him crucified. Let us have such a ministry. Let it speak loudly and earnestly, in strong, nervous, bold, glowing, burning language; and cold as is our northern manner, we will put up with it, and thank God for it.-Forgive me these hasty remarks and believe me yours truly,

O. A. BROWNSON.

THE WEST AS A FIELD OF USEFULNESS FOR YOUNG PREACHERS OF THE UNITARIAN DENOMINATION.

A Letter to the Editors, dated Louisville, Jan. 7th, 1834.

I wish to say a few words, through your work, to those young men of my own profession whose thoughts have been directed to the west as a sphere for their ministerial labours. Before I came out here myself I heard the most contradictory opinions in regard to the expediency of this step. Some thought the west the Garden of Eden; by others it was likened to the Desert of Sahara. One declared that rational and liberal Christianity must and would spread through this region as the autumnal flames flash along its prairies. Another answered that the grossest fanaticism and most intolerant bigotry were the characteristics of western religion. To reconcile such statements was impossible; one could only balance them, and try to keep an unprejudiced mind, and think nothing beforehand about it. Such was my aim; and I wish now to throw in my opinion among the rest, formed on the experience of the last five months. Is it advisable for a young man of liberal views to go out to the west as a preacher ?

It is not, and it is.

1. It is not if he delights in large audiences. Rational Christianity does not collect large audiences in the west. It is enthusiasm, exaggeration, extreme statements, vivid colouring, glow and passion, which collect crowds. To be sure, if a man happens to be an orator, as has been the case with some of our preachers who have visited these parts, he will be sure to gain admiration; for in no part of the United States is there to be found a stronger love, or indeed a finer and more correct taste for oratory, than in the west,- - in particular, Kentucky. But suppose the friend for whom I write to be no orator, but a sincere man, of average abilities, who desires to preach his Master rather than himself. In this case he can console himself with the distich of the poet,

"Let the fanatic gather disciples like sand on the sea-shore;

Sand is but sand, but thou art a pearl, thou my rational friend.” Rational Christianity certainly shows no intention of flying over the west like wildfire. I fear that, like most other truths, our views must be propagated by our own efforts. "Such labour has God appointed for men.' 2. So let no young man come to the west who is afraid to work. In order to produce the least effect on the minds of this rather volatile and changeable race, he must task himself night and day, in every manner, to advance his cause and finish his work. To be obliged to do this, to be necessitated to lay aside habits of sloth and assume those of industry, is, as wise men look on it, an advantage.

3. Lastly, the west is no place for a man whose tastes are unchangeably fixed, and whose habits of feeling and acting are rigidly cast and hardened, and who cannot open his mind to new impressions, or bear up in the lack of the accustomed comforts and loved objects of home. Western manners, customs, feelings are different from eastern, yet in their way they are good, and will strike an unprejudiced mind as such, if it can bear the first shock of novelty. But if a young man can renounce present success, can work, and can forget home, the west is just the country where he will be happy, useful, and improving.

1. For in the first place, he will be pleased with the society by which he is surrounded. He will miss, perhaps, much of the culture and depth of acquirement of the east; but in their place he will find openness and liberality of mind, as great extent of information, and a very active, inquiring, and improving spirit. He will miss that love and patronage of established institutions which he left behind, but will find their place supplied by greater energy of individual character. He will be surprised to find how much is said, done, and thought, in a single day, by western people; how much change and enterprise and activity surround him. He will probably gain more knowledge of mankind in a month here, than in a year in New England. He will be pleased with finding hospitality, liberality, and frankness of manners, in the place of the exclusiveness and envy and rigour of caste which pervade New-England society. Here they act wholly or almost wholly on the principle,

"The rank is but the guinea-stamp,

The man's the gowd, for a' that.

2. He will have the pleasure, therefore, of finding himself improving. He will gain a self-confidence founded on self-knowledge. For he will freely act himself out, regardless of the expectations and demands of others. In New England he could hardly avoid saying-I am expected to speak thus and so, to do this and that. Here nothing in particular is expected; there are no fixed tastes and opinions, and settled, regular demands, to fetter the activity of the individual. It is only expected that he will do something, what and how are left to himself. No set of opinions or tastes has become dominant; all are militant. This, then, seems just the state of society where a young man can best put that important finishingpart to his education which consists in practising self-dependence. "In New England," a friend once remarked to me, "we are like stones wedged