cess, the character might be yet utterly undone. It was, however, whilst his heart was thus unchanged, that some friends, with a correct estimate of his natural powers, but who otherwise "knew not what they did," strongly urged upon him the desirableness of preparing to become a clergyman of the Church of England. The proposal would doubtless present many points of attraction. No one could be more alive to the prestige which wealth, learning, and station give to the national establishment. But he was, even then, a Nonconformist upon principle; and he estimated too correctly the responsibility of "watching for souls," to believe it, even for a moment, compatible with an unsanctified heart. The scheme was, therefore, unhesitatingly abandoned. Some other friends, equally injudicious, took, about the same time, certain steps leading in the direction of the ministry among Dissenters. For this he felt equally unprepared. "It was now that he was removed from under the tuition of his teacher, the Rev. J. Hemmings, Kimbolton, to enjoy the advantages of instruction under the roof of the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) Halley, then residing at St. Neots. He was now in the same town with his beloved family; and his vicinity to them afforded an opportunity for the development of those eminent domestic excellencies, which, when purified by religion, rendered him the delight and idol of his personal connexions. His residence with Mr. Halley was the time at which occurred the most important change in his moral history,' (and the most important, let me remind my hearers, in the life of every man) 'his conversion to God. A funeral sermon, preached by Mr. Halley, for a poor member of the church, was the means of convincing him of his guilt and danger, and of leading him, whose heart had been secretly opposed to the Divine government, to the cross of Christ. From this time religion became a matter of the deepest personal concern; and the concurrent testimonies of all the members of the family fully ascertain the fact that the change produced in him was most evident. Not only had his spirit been brought to bend before the "truth as it is in Jesus;" but the gentleness and perfect filial obedience which, now and henceforward, characterized him, became a proverb among those who loved him so well. Many letters, now lying before me, prove the deep concern he felt for the spiritual welfare of those around him; and from this time he became their stay and hope, throwing out such a light of cheerfulness, devotedness, and love, as made him the polar star towards which the affections of parents, and brothers and sisters continually pointed. It was now that he resolved to give himself to Christ, by a public profession of religion; and having become a member of the church under the pastoral care of Mr. Halley, to devote himself to the work of the Christian ministry. I have often had opportunities of witnessing the estimation in which he was held by his fellow-members. Though unable, as they often confessed, to calculate at their full value his mental powers, they were delighted with his society, and bore full testimony to the excellence, uprightness, kindness, and consistency, which marked his course. In yielding himself to the work of the ministry among dissenters, it was impossible that our beloved friend could be ignorant that he was turning his back upon worldly advantage; and that powers such as he must have been conscious of possessing might have raised him to a more flattering earthly distinction. But he felt, as he often expressed himself, that the conversion of one soul to Christ, and he hoped to witness by his ministry the conversion of many, would infinitely preponderate over the highest earthly honours. "In the year 1824, he entered as a student at Wymondley College, (now Coward College, London,) then under the tutorship of the Rev. Messrs. Morell and Hull. All his letters, at that period, show with what diligence he there pursued his studies. And, though it might be too much to say, that his zeal never relaxed, and that no faults were to be found among his many excellencies; and though, in his after life, he might look upon his past advances as small in comparison with his subsequent attainments, there can be no doubt that he derived the greatest benefit, both directly and indirectly, from this period of his life. Here he formed a strong personal friendship with one of his tutors; and he alternately astonished his fellow-students by his stores of acquisition, and delighted them by the inexhaustible play of his wit and humour. Nothing is more remarkable, at this period, than the pure and fervent attachment which, during the academic course, he retained for home; and what self-denying sacrifices he habitually made at the shrine of filial duty-how tenderly, and yet how playfully, he endeavoured to blunt the edge of domestic sorrows-what a charm was in home whenever he visited it, and what a blank he left whenever he removed from it, is proved by every fond and bitter remembrance of those who have survived him.' "In the year 1829, he removed, under an exhibition from Dr. Williams's trustees, to the University of Glasgow. It was here, of course, that my own and my family's acquaintance with him commenced; an acquaintance which speedily ripened into mutual attachment, and the fondest and most familiar intimacy. At the University, in all his classes, he was a student of the very highest rank of eminence; carrying, if my by which we could individualize him; no special association, to single him out, to our mind's eye, in his last awful moments, on which our thoughts could fix and dwell. We could only think of him, with a deep-drawn sigh, and shudder of horror, and a burst of tenderness, as going down in the common terror and confusion! but the tidings come. He did not thus go down in the common terror and confusion. I have his image before me. Seeing the full amount of the peril; hope, held for the moment, and gone; his heart, glancing a look of love to wife and friends on earth, and commending them to the providence and grace of a covenant God; and then, absorbed in all the awful and all the blissful of eternity, on the verge of which he feels himself, and in all the yearnings of a soul, itself safe, for the safety of the perishing around him; his fellow-passengers, at his summons, on their knees on either hand of him, while he, all calm, firm, resigned, collected, the eye of faith upon the cross, and the eye of hope upon the crown, with his fine, full, deep, manly voice distinctly amidst the shrieks and confusion of the terrific scene, commends himself and them to the infinite mercy of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,' praying, from the fulness of his heart, that, if it were his will they should now perish, he would enable them to be resigned to his allsovereign disposal, and that they might all be prepared for so sudden a summons to his bar.' O my friends, I cannot express to you the emotions of solemn and thankful delight which, in the midst of all my grief, sprung up within me, when this scene was presented to my imagination! I saw him; I heard him! There he was-just as a Christian, firm in faith, just as a Christian minister, feeling his responsibility for others as well as for himself, ought to have been! Behold he prayeth!' Never was prayer more appropriate; never was collected prayer more difficult. It is the sublime of religion. It is a fact that stamps a character. It is the calm stedfastness of settled and deep-felt principle, in a mind whose natural energy was sustained by the clearness of spiritual vision, and by the strength of that faith, which is the confidence of things not seen.' It is a practical commentary upon Christ the power of God!' It is a verification of the promise, 'My grace is sufficient for thee!' It was an awful testingtime of his confidence in the gospel which he had held and taught; and his faith failed not.' Prayer, at such a moment, not the mere cry for mercy dictated by desperation and terror, but the utterance of a mind in full self-possession, and feeling its ground secure, was a manifestation at once of the truth which he believed, and of the sincerity and force of the faith with which he held it. The crisis was as short as it was fearful; but the prayer was to a present God. It was heard in time, and answered in eternity. Prayer was thus 'His watchword at the gates of death; And now he rests:' he rests there: and he shall stand in his lot in the end of the days!'"' The following pleasing memoir of Mr. Mackenzie will be highly acceptable to our readers. No thoughtful person can read it, without feeling how sad is the loss which the Christian church has sustained by the sudden removal of so eminent and devoted a servant of the cross. "John Morell Mackenzie was born at Godmanchester, in Huntingdonshire, on the 24th of October, 1806. He was one of a numerous family; of which the residence, soon after his birth, was removed to St. Neots, in the same county, which thus, though not his birth-place, as some have in mistake supposed, became the place of his early training. In the years even of opening childhood, he is described as having given indications of an extraordinary precocity of talents, both in degree and variety: so that he must be regarded, in this respect, as either an exception to the commonly received opinion, that such precocity seldom proves lasting or solid, or as one of many practical refutations of its truth. The failures which have given origin and counte nance to the opinion, have themselves, it may be presumed, arisen from the folly of injudicious friends, whose premature admiration and flattery have engendered in the mind of the young prodigy the vain conceit that in his case, so far above the level of dull or mere average boys, the toil of weari some application to study may well be dispensed with. His talents, as he grew, advanced in vigour. Knowledge of all kinds was his passion; and, though a remarkable proficient in games and exercises, he often declined them for studies suited to much maturer years. When he had arrived at about the age of fourteen,' I now use the language of one of his near relatives, 'his intellectual developments were surprising, but his moral dispositions were defective in their counterpoise. Passion, perverseness, and filial rebellion, sometimes strongly ma nifested, gave much uneasiness to his anxious friends. It is true, that these never ran in the direction of open immoralities, and that they were relieved by those strong affections and warm attachments which formed so remarkable a trait in his character. But the existence of such marked deficiencies, amidst so much external excellence, showed the absolute need of a divine and regenerative process; and that without such a pro cess, the character might be yet utterly undone. It was, however, whilst his heart was thus unchanged, that some friends, with a correct estimate of his natural powers, but who otherwise "knew not what they did," strongly urged upon him the desirableness of preparing to become a clergyman of the Church of England. The proposal would doubtless present many points of attraction. No one could be more alive to the prestige which wealth, learning, and station give to the national establishment. But he was, even then, a Nonconformist upon principle; and he estimated too correctly the responsibility of "watching for souls," to believe it, even for a moment, compatible with an unsanctified heart. The scheme was, therefore, unhesitatingly abandoned. Some other friends, equally injudicious, took, about the same time, certain steps leading in the direction of the ministry among Dissenters. For this he felt equally unprepared. "It was now that he was removed from under the tuition of his teacher, the Rev. J. Hemmings, Kimbolton, to enjoy the advantages of instruction under the roof of the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) Halley, then residing at St. Neots. He was now in the same town with his beloved family; and his vicinity to them afforded an opportunity for the development of those eminent domestic excellencies, which, when purified by religion, rendered him the delight and idol of his personal connexions. His residence with Mr. Halley was the time at which occurred the most important change in his moral history,' (and the most important, let me remind my hearers, in the life of every man) his conversion to God. A funeral sermon, preached by Mr. Halley, for a poor member of the church, was the means of convincing him of his guilt and danger, and of leading him, whose heart had been secretly opposed to the Divine government, to the cross of Christ. From this time religion became a matter of the deepest personal concern; and the concurrent testimonies of all the members of the family fully ascertain the fact that the change produced in him was most evident. Not only had his spirit been brought to bend before the "truth as it is in Jesus;" but the gentleness and perfect filial obedience which, now and henceforward, characterized him, became a proverb among those who loved him so well. Many letters, now lying before me, prove the deep concern he felt for the spiritual welfare of those around him; and from this time he became their stay and hope, throwing out such a light of cheerfulness, devotedness, and love, as made him the polar star towards which the affections of parents, and brothers and sisters continually pointed. It was now that he resolved to give himself to Christ, by a public profession of religion; and having become a member of the church under the pastoral care of Mr. Halley, to devote himself to the work of the Christian ministry. I have often had opportunities of witnessing the estimation in which he was held by his fellow-members. Though unable, as they often confessed, to calculate at their full value his mental powers, they were delighted with his society, and bore full testimony to the excellence, uprightness, kindness, and consistency, which marked his course. In yielding himself to the work of the ministry among dissenters, it was impossible that our beloved friend could be ignorant that he was turning his back upon worldly advantage; and that powers such as he must have been conscious of possessing might have raised him to a more flattering earthly distinction. But he felt, as he often expressed himself, that the conversion of one soul to Christ, and he hoped to witness by his ministry the conversion of many, would infinitely preponderate over the highest earthly honours. "In the year 1824, he entered as a student at Wymondley College, (now Coward College, London,) then under the tutorship of the Rev. Messrs. Morell and Hull. All his letters, at that period, show with what diligence he there pursued his studies. And, though it might be too much to say, that his zeal never relaxed, and that no faults were to be found among his many excellencies; and though, in his after life, he might look upon his past advances as small in comparison with his subsequent attainments, there can be no doubt that he derived the greatest benefit, both directly and indirectly, from this period of his life. Here he formed a strong personal friendship with one of his tutors; and he alternately astonished his fellow-students by his stores of acquisition, and delighted them by the inexhaustible play of his wit and humour. Nothing is more remarkable, at this period, than the pure and fervent attachment which, during the academic course, he retained for home; and what self-denying sacrifices he habitually made at the shrine of filial duty-how tenderly, and yet how playfully, he endeavoured to blunt the edge of domestic sorrows-what a charm was in home whenever he visited it, and what a blank he left whenever he removed from it, is proved by every fond and bitter remembrance of those who have survived him.' "In the year 1829, he removed, under an exhibition from Dr. Williams's trustees, to the University of Glasgow. It was here, of course, that my own and my family's acquaintance with him commenced; an acquaintance which speedily ripened into mutual attachment, and the fondest and most familiar intimacy. At the University, in all his classes, he was a student of the very highest rank of eminence; carrying, if my memory does not deceive me, the most honourable rewards of merit in every department. After an attendance of three sessions, he took his degree as master of arts, in the first class of graduates, and with what are termed, in college phrase, the highest honours.' After what has already been said, it is almost unnecessary to add, that he was a special favourite with both professors and fellow-students. "His vacations, between these sessions at the University, were occupied in preaching the gospel (his theological course having been previously completed) in various parts of England. In 1832, he received an invitation to Poole, in Dorsetshire, to be co-pastor with my esteemed and much-loved friend, the Rev. Thos. Durant, of the Congregational church in that town. He accepted the invitation: and in this sphere of service he remained for five years. The attachment between the senior and junior pastor was reciprocal and strong; and for the time the union lasted, the harmony was perfect. Mr. Durant, himself not less distinguished by soundness and vigour of judgment, than by Christian spirit and warmth of heart, selects the very strongest and most emphatic terms to express at once his admiration of his fine, his superb intellect' and his vast attainments,' and the ardent affection in which he held himself, for the unaffectedness of his piety and the amiableness of his social dispositions. The latter discovered itself, among other ways, in what could not but be felt as thoroughly congenial with the spirit of such a parent, his extreme fondness for children, exemplified in Mr. Durant's own family, and his extraordinary power, so condescendingly and heartily put forth, of interesting, amusing, delighting, and instructing them, and thus securing a warm place in the affections of even the youngest; the entire group becoming buoyant with glee at every sight of him, and clinging round him with fond and clamorous detention, when he offered to go; while, at the same time, he availed himself of their attachment, as they got a little older, for helping them forward in different branches of their education, and, in union with their parents, imparting to them the still more valuable benefits of religious instruction. ،، With regard to his ministry in that quarter, there is one circumstance mentioned by my friend Mr. Durant, which is especially worthy of being noticed. He speaks of his pulpit discourses at Poole as having been ' often too learned; his allusions and illustrations too recondite and classical, for popular effect; while his sermons at the village stations in the neighbourhood, 'in substance the same as those at Poole, were strikingly plain and pungent;' and 'he was almost the idol of the villagers.' Even, however, of those discourses at Poole, which he characterises as above, 'the perorations' partook strikingly of the faithfulness, plainness, and pungency of his village addresses. 'His prayers,' says the same authority, 'in the family, at a sick-bed, and in public, were peculiarly lively, solemn, evangelical, and devout. I have seldom, if ever, enjoyed any man in prayer so much. There may have been occasionally too much of pomp and splendour in the language; but even in such cases, it flowed so evidently from the heart, that it lost little if any portion of its effect upon my mind.' I know it to have been with no ordinary bitterness of regret, and struggle of reluctance, that Mr. Durant assented to his leaving Poole; the reluctance and the regret being overbalanced solely by the conviction that his talents eminently fitted him for a more prominent and extensive sphere, along with the corresponding conviction that in such a sphere his usefulness would be more widely diffused, and the result be a larger amount of glory to God, and of benefit to his church. Altogether,' says he, I have never met with any one more lovely, (and in my ministerial connexions I have been unusually blest,) and I never expect, I dare not even indulge a wish, for one more lovely hereafter. I shall ever deem it a privilege to my family and my flock, that he resided more than five years amongst us as my co-pastor.' "He came to Glasgow, in compliance with the invitation of the church in Nilestreet, in 1837; and was ordained to the pastoral charge, as colleague to the late beloved and revered Greville Ewing. He stood very high in the affectionate and admiring estimation of his aged associate; towards whom, during the short period of their union, he acted, as indeed he sincerely and deeply felt, with the love, the veneration, and the attentive and assiduous dutifulness, of a devoted son; so that the words of Paul respecting Timothy could hardly have borne a more forcible application in the one case than they bore in the other, As a son with the father, he hath served with me in the gospel.' Towards the close of this brief period, he became connected by marriage with her who has now, so suddenly, and, as to us it appears, so prematurely, been called to assume the garb of widowhood, and to mourn the loss of an amount of excellence such as falls to the lot of comparatively few, and which it was her honour to discern and to appreciate. Upon the cessation of his pastoral connexion with the church in Nilestreet,-(which, without entering into its causes, gave occasion, we may truly and confi dently say, inasmuch as it has been felt and owned by all, for the eliciting, and bringing more into prominence and admiration, of the noble ingenuousness and Christian inoffen siveness of his disposition,)-he was unanimously and cordially chosen, by the Committee of the Theological Academy connected with the Congregational Churches in Scotland, (a choice subsequently confirmed by the annual meeting of that Institution,) to fill the chair of Biblical Criticism and Church History, which Mr. Ewing's death had thrown vacant, and in the duties of which he had for a time, during Mr. Ewing's advancing infirmities, acted as his assistant, and latterly as his temporary substitute. For this important and responsible situation no man could be more admirably qualified, and its functions, during the short time he has been permitted by Providence to occupy it, no man could have more admirably and efficiently discharged. Your time will not admit of my entering into detail; nor is it necessary. As his colleague in that Institution, I do, with the most affectionate sincerity, bear him this honourable testimony: and I know it will be found in harmony with the sentiment of every minister who has had any opportunity of acquaintance with the Institution, as well as of every student that has been under his charge. "In thus briefly sketching our lamented friend's biography, I have, at the same time, unavoidably touched on the more prominent features of his mental and moral character; on the further delineation of which I shall, therefore, dwell with the greater brevity. His natural powers of intellect were, unquestionably, of the first order, for vigour, acuteness, and amplitude; and they were assiduously, perseveringly, and with a success corresponding at once to their character and their application, devoted to the acquisition of useful and ornamental knowledge in almost every department. He was intimately versant, to an extraordinary extent, with all the varieties of English literature, whether ancient or modern. To this he added profound and classical scholarship, comprising, not only a grammatical and idiomatic knowledge of the languages of Greece and Rome, in union with a refined and enthusiastic taste for their beauties and elegancies, but an enlarged acquaintance with the learning which these languages embrace. He was a master in mental philosophy, metaphysical and dialectic; of which, if I mistake not, he was fonder than of the physical and exact sciences, although in these too he was no mean proficient. For the chair of sacred criticism he was qualified, not merely by his skill in both the original languages of the Holy Scriptures, but by a singularly extensive familiarity with the best Biblical Critics and Commentators, Continental and American as well as British,in German and French as well as in English. His knowledge of books, by which I mean not a knowledge of their titles and authors It merely, but of their contents, was surprisingly extensive and varied. His large, yet select and valuable library, remains behind him, a memorial of his love of books, and at the same time a proof that this love, although a passion, was not a mania. His memory was prodigious, uniting, in an enviable degree, the qualities of capaciousness, correctness, tenacity, and readiness. seemed as if he forgot nothing; and as if his stores were so thoroughly assorted, that the moment aught was needed, he knew where to find and how to produce it. This rendered his conversational powers peculiarly fascinating. Ever ready with appropriate quotation, apt allusion, and all descriptions of historical and biographical anecdote, he was never at a loss, either in the serious or the playful, either in the learned or the more ordinary, departments of conversational intercourse. His memory was an instance in contradiction of another popular but mistaken maxim, besides the one formerly adverted to, namely, that a great memory is seldom found in union with eminence in the powers of judgment and reasoning, and other kindred faculties. They were united in him, as they have been in other instances without number: there being no natural divorce between them, no incompatibility of the one with the other, further than what may arise from the tendency of a great memory to tempt its possessor to an undue reliance upon its resources, and so, from his possessing the stores of others, to neglect the cultivation and exercise of his own more valuable attributes. "These extraordinary natural talents and acquired endowments, were associated with a character otherwise highly estimable; with tempers and dispositions such as insured the general affection of the many, and riveted the special friendship of the few: the selfwilled contumacy of his earlier years, before adverted to, having come under the restraining and hallowing influence of sound, deepseated, and active religious principle,-of a piety which was unfeigned, cheerful, and manly, exerting an authority and an energy sufficient, when the proud or the angry passions were, at any time, struggling for the mastery, to command them into subjection. 'His piety,' says the near relation from whom I formerly cited, 'was not of that obtrusive kind which courts notice, and evaporates in conversation; and it might sometimes be mistaken, under the veil of a very sportive and somewhat versatile exterior: but it was deep, full, sincere; and men of the world, whilst enchanted by his talents, have often been heard to say, that they honoured religion as it was exhibited in him.' "To these high and amiable qualities it may truly be added, that with all his powers |