it. Oh, no!

He was too wise and too humble to do either. And what

ever the length or breadth of his faith was, one thing is certain, that he seemed very desirous to go to the Bible, not with a creed, but for a creed. He thirsted for the pure water of life, and loved to drink it fresh at the fountain. He was a believer in the scriptural doctrines of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; in the divinity and atonement of Christ; in the regenerating, sanctifying, and perfecting influences. of the eternal Spirit. These, and the great evangelical truths connected with them, he preached, in their theoretical and practical fulness.

As a Christian teacher, our departed friend was as well known to yourselves as to me, and perhaps better. He was a sound, practical, pathetic, effective preacher; and if it was not his to give such revelations of the causes and laws which work invisibly and harmoniously in the moral universe as would at once dazzle the eye and fire the heart of reason; if it was not his to enchant with images of beauty, nor to shake the conscience with thunder; if it was not his to agitate, to their lowest depths, the sublimer passions of the soul, by representations of the marvellous in nature, or man, or God,-still he had great gifts, and he was faithful in the use of them. His administrations of truth were always grave, earnest, devout. His desire was to speak the truth in love, for man's salvation. His direct aim was usefulness. He did not amuse his hearers with vain speculations and subtle theories; nor inflame them with passionate invectives against all denominations but his own; nor tempt them to imagine that the kingdom of God is anything else than righteousness, and peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost." The materials of his sermons were selected with judgment, arranged with simplicity, and, generally, expressed with considerable force. It gives me pleasure to find that the views of his gifted brother, on this point, so fully harmonized

66

with my own. Speaking of his ministry, he says: "I know not how to draw the lines; but I believe that, in viewing his labours as a circumference, I shall find no difficulty in tracing every line to the centre, and that centre to be God. I do firmly believe that I have not had the acquaintance of any minister whose aim was more directly to glorify God, than was that of my dear departed brother. His purposes and efforts for the advancement of truth were steady, uncompromising, but without moroseness or petulance. He said but little of his own experience he was no man of profession. He dealt but scantily in the display of his principles. His language wasShow me thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith by my works.' For evidences of personal religion, his first inquiry was about the visible fruits of a holy life and conversation. And in these himself richly abounded. As a public man, he stood forth before the world; and the public, with a voice not to be mistaken, have passed an honourable sentence on his labours. He was a good textuary, and well understood the conflicting doctrines of the day. But his ministrations had more of the practical than of the theoretical cast; and he seemed tremblingly fearful lest his ministry should lead any one to rest in faith, without being satisfied that that faith worked by love."

The ministry of our friend, I need not say, was made very useful. Not only by his consistent life, private labours, and holy temper, but also by frequent preaching in town and country, he was the means of great good. The morning of his day in Pembrokeshire,the noon at Banbury,-and the evening in London, were all blessed with tokens of Divine favour. To his extensive usefulness here, there are before me now hundreds who can bear a grateful testimony. And may we not confidently hope, that much of the seed of his ministry, hidden as yet in the soil, will hereafter spring up luxuriantly

around the grave of the sower?

may the sunshine and showers of Heaven quickly bring it to pass!

I need not say that the general character of your lamented pastor possessed extraordinary worth. Simple and unaffected in manners, address, and attire, so he was inwardly upright and sincere. In the society of his ministerial brethren he was open, communicative, and independent, yet without ostentation. He was ever more anxious to gain than to give instruction. All who knew our brother can bear testimony to the wisdom of his counsel, the warmth of his sympathy, the disinterestedness and extent of his beneficence.

But how freely he taxed

his limited resources for the benefit of others, was known only to the excellent and endeared companion of his pilgrimage. His works are with God!

Shall I advert to his devotional tem

per and habits? His piety was intelligent, deep, and fervid. It was not his practice to talk much about the vicissitudes of his experience, the winters and summers, the tempests and sunshines, that passed over his soul; yet he would sometimes freely open his heart. He often did so to me. Often, very often, did we pray together in secret. But, O my brother! never again wilt thou kneel by my side, to breathe thy kind intercession for thy friend! Still I rejoice that thy prayers are ended that thy songs have begun!

In concluding this brief review of Mr. Harry's life and character, many reasons for gratitude present themselves. We should be thankful that he was led to receive the atonement and enter the church in the day of his youth, that amid earthly vicissitudes and spiritual dangers, he was enabled to stand, to fight, to overcome,-that he so eminently secured the confidence and affection of his ministerial brethren, far and near, that he was connected with a church so eminent for its faith, piety, and good works,-that he was so blessed in his domestic relations and connexions, that his last illness,

though short, was sufficiently long to prepare the feelings of the dearest friend of his heart for the bitter trials of separation,-and that at last, when death came, he had served his age according to the will of God, and was ready to depart. Of this I had the highest proofs during my last interview with him, only a few hours before his departure. I said, "You must not let your mind sink, Remember what we preach about death, the soul, and God." "Oh, no," said he, with a smile and deep emphasis, 66 my mind does not sink." I withdrew. By his request, I was soon recalled. Then, with an earnest look and tone, he said, in his native language, "Dyddanwch fy ngwraig am plant. drosynt a gyda hwynt."

Gweddiwch I signified

my assent, and left him with his God. It was the last time! Blessed be God, the tears and trials of his servant are over; the victory is won; the soul is ascended!

And now, brethren, what is the improvement which we should draw from this saddening dispensation? Has it not grave thoughts to offer us? Does it not speak in solemn tones to this church and congregation? Does it not speak to us all? To you who statedly attended his ministrations, permit me to say a word. Your minister has been taken from you! He loved you and you, too, loved him. But he is gone! Yes, he is gone! Do you realize it? He who only a few Sundays ago preached in this pulpit, is now lying cold and silent in yonder cemetery. You will see him no more; you will hear him no more. I said, he sleeps yonder in his bed surely you cannot mistake my meaning. It is only the earthly, the material part of his nature that is there. Not but that we should reverence that; for it was once the house of the soul, and the consecrated temple of its God. The Saviour watches its repose; he will raise it up

"Console my wife and children. Pray for them, and with them."

at the last day, and endow it with immortality. But the man-the man as to his essential and indestructible elements, is not there. The spirit reigns in life, and breathes perfection. And who will venture to deny that its recollections, and care, and love of you -you, his sorrowing family-you, his bereft congregation still remain ? Who will venture to say that its eye is no longer on your path, that its warm sympathies are no longer around your being?

But while our knowledge of the present affections and present agencies of the departed in relation to you is but uncertain and shadowy-your duty towards him is perfectly clear. Remember him who had the rule over you, and spoke to you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of his conversation.

Connect

a deep sense of responsibility with the recollection of his virtues as a man, and his labours as a servant of Christ. To you he preached eternal truth with plainness and power. Does that truth now rule in your hearts, and govern your ways? Remember him, you who are still unbelieving, and seek the Lord-oh, seek him to-day! You who have forsaken the path of peace, remember him, and return to your Father's house; why, oh why will ye die? You who are hesitating concerning God, reconciliation, and duty,

remember him; "show yourselves men;" let the truth make you free; " lay hold on eternal life!"

And is not this another call upon us, ministers and people, to be more consecrated than ever to the great principles and works of Christianity? Where are Guyse, and Stafford, and Gaffee, formerly pastors of this church? Where are Wilks, Hyatt, Waugh, Burder, Newman, Winter, Orme, Hughes, Ivimey, Rippon, Rowland Hill, and many others, whom we well remember? All are gone-gone to their happy rest! Among them to-day is he who on the first sabbath of the last month joined with you here in commemorating the Saviour's love. Now he sees and serves that Saviour on high. Oh, my brother! thou art not lostthou livest with the spirits of the perfect and the blessed. Yes! thou art with Christ, which is far better! Our hearts look for the day when we shall meet thee again, and then shall we be ever with the Lord.

DEAR BRETHREN,-The perusal of the account of the late meeting at Exeter Hall, on behalf of China, has kindled in my heart the desire to address you. I feel as if it would be treachery towards the best of Masters to be silent at such a time. The state of my health, however, will not allow ine to address you with the living voice. But I trust you will not refuse to listen to the words of your missionary, al

though you do not see him. I know your heart towards a missionary, although I have not been able to elicit its sympathies. I know that it is full of the kindest and the warmest feelings towards him, and that no voice is so welcome to your ear in pleading for missions, as the voice of those who have jeoparded their lives in the high places of the field-of those who tell you what their own eyes have seen,

and their own ears heard, and their own hearts felt, of the sins and miseries of the heathen. This emboldens me to hope that I shall not appeal to you for China in vain. Oh, I would speak to you in words worthy of the greatness of the theme. I would plead with you for three hundred millions of souls, as one who feels that three hundred millions of worlds could

not equal their worth. I would speak to you in words that should fall in melting power upon your hearts, kindling and quickening all the charities of souls consecrated to God. But who is sufficient for these things? Oh that the Spirit of the living God may condescend to use my feeble words as one means by which he will rouse the church of Christ to look at, and to discharge her duty to China.

And I am the rather desirous to plead with you for China, allow me to say, that I may give you another proof that the spirit of a missionary cherishes no jealousy that if for a moment the unholy feeling show itself, the power of the mighty principles which form his character instantly destroys it-that the missionary from Madras can rejoice in the well-earned reputation of the devoted missionary from Bengal, and pray that thousands may wait upon his lips to hear his appeals for India, with all the interest, and more than the interest, and more than the profit of the listening multitudes in Switzerlandthat he can rejoice in the labours of a Williams, and in their imperishable record that he can honour and delight in the eloquent and stirring statements of a Moffat-knowing that Lacroix is his, and Williams is his, and Moffat is his, having learnt of Paul to know the Christian's mighty treasure-that "all things are (his), whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; that all are (his), and (he) is Christ's, and Christ is God's."

And now he can rejoice, with a deep joy, in knowing that the day of China's deliverance is at hand, To use the beautiful illustration of an eminently

honoured servant of Christ, his heart thrills at the clarion of war summoning the sacramental host of God's elect to China. He has heard, amid the stillness of night, the trumpet of an earthly army, and the thrilling march of troops passing by to warfare,—but it was a thrill of dread-of sickening fear for those who might speedily be numbered with the dead-of the shrinking of the spirit from blood, and sin, and mourning, and woe;-but now he exults with a thrill of holiest joy, at the thought of the warfare of faith, and the triumphs of love.

The late events in China are of the highest magnitude. The long-desired time has comee-the wall is scaleda breach is made in it that will never be closed-England has done in Chipa what Portugal did in India, she has demonstrated that she may be conquered; and thus her position is altered for ever. She will no longer stand apart from all the world, despising all nations, and unknown to all; she must henceforth take her place amidst the great powers of the earth. The problem is solved, the amount of her resources is known, the dread of unknown strength is passed away. She is manifestly weaker than England. Her exclusive pretensions must cease; China is open to the world-open to the enterprise, the civilization, the religion of Europe. Who does not sympathize in the tremulous and prophetic feelings of Gutzlaff, as he stood by the side of the Imperial Commissioners in the cabin of the "Cornwallis," and witnessed the signing of the treaty which broke for ever the exclusive pride of Chinawhich met the long yearnings of his heart for her welfare, and which seemed to him an answer to the prayers of years?

Never has the Christian church been summoned to action by a louder voice than that which now sounds in her ear. Never have you, brethren, been placed in a more honourable, a more responsible situation. The Saviour has counted you worthy to give the Bible to China. The results of the labours

of Morrison and of Milne, and their honoured associates, in the Scriptures and the Dictionary, eight qualified teachers and one native teacher, are the rich blessings with which it is your dignity to greet China, in this day of her emancipation. You will now devise measures worthy of such a beginning of such an honour. The London meeting has pledged the Directors of the Society to send out ten or twelve missionaries in two years, and to adopt other plans which will involve a vast outlay. What does such a pledge call for on your part, if you respond to it? and that you will respond to it I cannot doubt. Cold must be that heart, and timid to extreme that spirit, that stands aloof from such a challenge. The papacy is awake and active-her priests are on their passage. Others are in the country; America is in the field. Her labourers are building at Hong-Kong. Other

English societies are resolving, and men are beginning to feel that the peace with China is destined to tell upon the mind of Europe like the discovery of America by Columbus. A continent is opened to us, and more than a continent a new world; not a world of thinly peopled savages, but a world teeming with human beings, one-third of the human race, in a high state of civilization, celebrated for their arts and enterprise, a people who have called themselves the heaven of earth. This is the people, and this is the field, to which the finger of God points you ; this is the country which He has opened for you; this is the enterprise he sets before you. What does it demand from you?

Not the mere subscription of a moment. Such a crisis cannot be so met. This would be to trifle with the souls of men. A new order of effort is set before you, and a new order of selfdenial must meet it. Dr. Alder well said, in the course of his beautiful speech, "I regard the period of the world in which it is our lot to live and act, as being especially the commence

ment of the missionary era of the church." Yes, brethren, all that we have done is only the commencement of the great work that God has given us to do. It is not to be wondered at that we should not at once have reached the elevated standard of the Scriptures. It is now, however, our plain duty to make a solemn pledge of our highest efforts to this noble cause. So many and so urgent are the claims which press upon us, that we must rise up to the full standard of devotedness. The income of the Missionary Society is not adequate to her present expenditure. What will it be when that expenditure is increased to the amount of all that China now demands from us? What, then, do the pledges of the late meeting virtually demand from you?

It has

They call for more prayer, and prayers of deeper power, deeper intensity, than you have ever yet offered. This is the fountain-head; everything will depend on your prayers. been well said that " prayer moves the hand that moves the world," and it is your prayers that must call into action, and keep in action, all the agency you need. Oh that Christians lived more in their closets! Oh that there were more earthly intercessions for the church! Oh that our prayer-meetings had a larger attendance and deeper interest! Nothing could resist the efforts of churches given to prayer. Nothing could be difficult-nothing impossible, to such churches. Men-money-would soon be found for every exigency; but if you do not pray, the Directors may resolve in vain.

Your best men must be given to this object; and one constant subject of the church's prayer must now be, that God may raise up men fit for the work, men full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, men of learning and men of prayer; that our men of highest intellect may feel that there is no field more worthy of the exercise of their talent; that even our noblemen may learn that the employment of a missionary would give new dignity to their titles.