that a general election would be the regular funeral of the vaunted bill, And what help? what resource? there can be nothing even decently and distantly approaching to a genuine representative house without the ballot, and that we cannot have.

. . . From an account in yesterday's Morning Chronicle, it seems probable that Thorogood is doomed to die in prison; one did rather feel as if he carried the conscientious principle to an extreme. I would pay the church-rate when legally demanded, as I would surrender my money to a highwayman, just to escape a greater evil. But still, his suffering example may do great good,-will, unless the clergy and their corrupt adherents shall resolutely and successfully maintain their detestable courts. There is no hateful part of their institutions which they have not a thoro'-good will to maintain and perpetuate.

Has there fallen in your way an "Essay on Apostolical Succession,” written by Powell, a Wesleyan minister? It has very speedily come to a second edition. Have hardly read any of it yet: but some intelligent persons tell me it is very able and effective. Great research is evident on the slightest glance.

CCXIX. TO JAMES FAWCETT, ESQ.

[On the character of the late Dr. Fawcett.]

March 12, 1840

YOUR friendly letter ought not to have remained so long unanswered; and would not if I had really felt that my slight, and I may now say remote, reminiscences of your venerable ancestor could be of any value for the description of his character. But they can be but as nothing in comparison with what you have had the means of knowing from persons associated with him during a large portion of his life; especially from my estimable friend your late father. You must yourself also, up to some considerable advance in youth, have been familiarly acquainted with him. It is now (oh the flight of time !) nearly forty years since, in a transient visit, I even saw him, and approaching to fifty since I was habitually near him. I have never heard any distinct account, and can have no conjecture what effect on his character and habits was produced by the many experiences of the many years of his later life, during which I was far off and wholly a stranger.

It is very superfluous to say, that any now surviving person who ever spent, as I did, several years in his house, his society, and under his instructions, must have retained to this day a deep impression of his excellence, and not the less so for any recollection of minor points of character which they might have considered as defects.

His piety was a pervading principle through his whole mind, and went into all the practical habits of his life; it was uniform and rational-by which latter epithet I mean that it was accompanied, or rather blended,

with sound judgment-with good sense. His social devotional exercises (as in the family worship) were remarkable for solemnity, simplicity, and variety, having (at the time I was an attendant on them) no recurrence of set phrases, but passing freely into any form of thought and expression. His preaching, always serious, instructive, and pertinent to the subject, was yet, I will confess, deficient in what I may call exciting and stimulant qualities. It had not bold, prominent ideas, original or striking passages; it was considerably of the tenor usually denominated commonplace. And the manner was not advantageous for attention or attraction. There was too intense a gravity-an aspect and cast of delivery bearing a character of sadness, gloom, and austerity, which really had, on young persons at least, a repressive effect. The manner might almost be denominated funereal. There was nothing assumed or affected in all this; it was expressive of the preacher's temperament, which was of a deeply sombre color.

This was felt in social intercourse. His younger friends could not be on what I may call companionable terms with him. They were kept at a certain distance by the gravity of his character, which precluded a free, uncautious familiarity. It is probable, this temperament, perhaps originally natural to him, had been much confirmed by severe bodily afflictions, by difficulties and grievances experienced at times in his ministerial course, and by a habitually gloomy view (a true one) of the state of the world and the depravity of human nature.

In applying the terms grave, gloomy, austere—I should very specially observe that there was nothing acrid or cynical; he had kind affections and genuine benevolence; compassion for distress, a concern for the welfare of all with whom he was connected, and delighted in the signs of commencing piety, especially in young persons.

I should have noted that at the time I was most with him, he was in advanced age, and had long held an acknowledged precedence in respectability and authority to any other minister in all that part of the country. This had contributed to render him very sensitive, rather morbidly so, sometimes, to anything that looked like a deficiency of respect. It was not therefore easy to maintain with him anything in the form of a debate. He was apt to be hurt by opposition of opinion, as if it were a personal disrespect, and could not go into a free discussion on the equal condition of “give and take." He was not arrogant and dictatorial: by no means: but he felt dissent or opposition as of the nature of an offence, and brooded over it with a painful irritation. I do not think he attributed to himself extraordinary talent, or deemed his writings as above the level of plain performances, aimed to do good. But he would have been aggrieved by any remarks of the nature of animadversion. I remember when he was about printing his Family Bible, he sent to me, at a great distance, the first two or three printed sheets, with a request for any observations that might occur to me. But I did not-really felt that I dared not-venture any remarks to the effect of indicating faults.

It was the wish of some of his friends, myself included, that he had `more limited himself in the matter of authorship. He was, at the same time, very free from ostentation of himself in that capacity. He rarely and but briefly made any reference to the works he published.

He had a lively perception, and was liberal and animated in praise, of the merits of other authors, whether contemporary, or of older date.

Considering that the order of his religious principles and feelings was so much according to what might be called the puritanical standard, it was remarkable how little contracted were his taste and compass of reading. He read with pleasure any sort of books that were good of their kind-history, poetry, fiction, even romance. I remember at this distance of time, a conversation on one of Fielding's novels, his discriminating observations on which showed how attentively and with wha interest he had read it.

Considering also his tendency to gloom and sadness, it was remarkable what a lively perception he had of wit and humor. A short but genuine laugh would show how instantly and with what pleasure he took it. I recollect his even lending himself, in a sly, quiet way, to humor a practical joke, rather at the expense of Mrs. F., on some occasion of a violent and mistaken fret.

He was far from discouraging vivacity in the young people around him, to any extent short of absolute folly.

In short, as a comprehensive observation on all these miscellaneous particulars, he had in all ways a candid and liberal feeling, as amiable as it was remarkable in a person of his temperament. Or if there should appear to be some exception to this in what I have described of his unfortunate sensitiveness to opposition-his aptitude to feel any sign of disagreement as a deficiency of respect--let it be remembered that there was in this feeling no harshness, bitterness, or disposition to inflict pain in return. It was simply his own painful feeling, without hostile reaction; and he was easily conciliated, when shown that there was no intention to hurt or displease him.

One virtue was pre-eminently his-indefatigable industry. This sometimes made me ashamed when with him, and many times in remembrance since. Every part of every day, the whole year round, he was busy in some useful employment. The only observable interval would be, that he would sometimes sit at ease smoking his pipe for a quarter of an hour. He took much pleasure in bookbinding; but while employed in folding, stitching, &c., he would always have some one (often myself) employed in reading to him, for the benefit of both. During this exercise his large, various knowledge would afford many useful points of information cr comment. He did not care what the book was, if there was anything valuable in it. His favorite author at that time was Dr. Johnson.

The above, dear sir, is a very meagre sketch; I wish my memory had been more faithful. The time referred to has greatly faded on its page

c record. But it will, to the end of life, retain, faith 'ully engraven, the general lines of a character of extraordinary excellence. From such a character there will be but little detracted by such particulars as I have ventured to remark as weaknesses or defects. He was one of the few individuals who in that period (at least the earlier part of it), and in that part of the country, were conspicuous as holding forth the light of evangelical religion, and as doing honor to the cause of dissent. By many more than his descendants his character will be long held in veneration.

....

P.S. I might have noticed that Dr. Fawcett's personal presence was uncommonly imposing and authoritative. His saturnine countenance, the habitual seriousness of his look, his powerful voice, his large and tall figure, and a certain unconscious dignity in his measured step, would have made on even a stranger an impression of something very different from an ordinary person.

CCXX. TO THE REV. JOSIAH HILL.

Bourton, July 9, 1840.

If one could (may God do what we cannot!) raise the minds of young persons, to a most decided state of conviction, resolution, exertion, and habitual solicitation of help from Heaven, as to the grand purpose and effectual improvement of life! If they could but fully anticipate the feelings which are brought so imperatively into the mind on a near approach of the end of life, combined with reflection on life in its review! How often one regrets the impossibility of imparting to youth some of the gravest thoughts and feelings of age. But yet they can, and happily some of them do, consider that life is passing fast away, that the one grand purpose of it, as a whole, is the proper purpose of each and every part-that at any advanced point of it, it is very lamentable to have to look back on the past stage as lost to the great object—that the race of time to the middle term of life is comparatively short-that in passing down to the decline, every year will seem shorter (according to the concurrent testimony of their seniors) than the preceding-that there is the constant menacing possibility of the career being prematurely closed—that " even the longest day will have an end,”—and then—what then?

CCXXI. REV. B. S. HALL.

DEAR OLD FRIEND,-.

Bourton, July 17, 1840. What times and events have passed away since Clapton was one of the places-the most pleasant of the placesof friendly resort. I have looked up that way with a degree of regret, that the ancient attraction thither exists there no more, and in all probability never will again.

I am glad to believe that your present position is a more useful one than any former. How utterly improbable it would have appeared, in that long passed time to which I have referred, that your appointment in Providence should be where it has now placed you,—and where I trust its merciful favor will abide with you and your family.

The changes and varieties in your past life will have been a profitable discipline for your present vocation, as having given you much experience of human nature and character in its varieties of good and evil. Numberless things will be suggested from your own practical knowledge in aid of those illustrations and instructions which you have to administer to your people. I always consider it an advantage to a preacher, if an observant and reflective man, to have passed through some changes of situation and acquaintance with mankind. I should much like to hear you state some of the results of your now long and diversified experience, the judgments you have been led to form on divers matters on which we have conversed in years far gone, or which have come in your way during the subsequent course of our lives.

CCXXII. TO THE REV. W. PEECHEY.

[On the Millennium.]

Stapleton, 1840.

MY DEAR SIR,-Your letter would not have remained unacknowledged so unconscionable a length of time, or any considerable length of time, if I could have given myself credit for being able to write five sentences to the purpose on the subject of it. But in truth I have never been led to think particularly on that subject.

The study of prophecy (as to yet future ages) has carried ingenious and learned men into so many theories and fantastic presumptions, many of them already convicted of folly, that I have never had faith enough for it, except as to a few apparently infallible passages-such as the return of the Jews to their ancient land, and the happy dispensation (call it millennium) reserved to shine on this dark world some time-but when? for how very faint are the signs that as yet glimmer on the horizon! At the rate of the progress hitherto of genuine Christianity on the globe, thousands of years may pass away before that millennium can arrivean awful mystery in the divine government. But one cannot help indulging a hope, though resting on a loose and arbitrary speculation, that there may come in some not very distant period, a mighty acceleration, with unprecedented and astonishing events, of the reforming process. If asked the reason of such a hope, the answer might be little more than this-that unless it shall be so, the world is doomed to an awfully protracted duration of its past and present dismal state; which one is most extremely unwilling to believe.

It may be well for stimulated exertion to entertain a very exaggerated