themselves of the grant for national education; and I trust that a sound scriptural education will pervade the whole length and breadth of the land. Your resolutions are, I think, to that effect?" Mr. Gemmel replied, "Yes; but one of our resolutions characterises the national scheme as unsound and latitudinarian. I fear that the scheme is latitudinarian; but I am not quite so clear as to the use of the word unsound. Doddridge, for example, is latitudinarian; but I should be very unwilling to call him unsound; and Baxter is still more latitudinarian, but I should be very unwilling, in the full sense of the word, to call him unsound. There are what are called 'Baxterian errors,' I am aware, and one of these is in relation to the extent of the sacrifice of Christ-Baxter, I think, holding that Christ died for all men." Dr. Chalmers answered-" Yes: Baxter holds that Christ died for all men; and I cannot say that I am quite at one with what some of our friends have written on the subject of the atonement. I do not, for example, entirely agree with what Mr. Haldane says on the subject. I think that the word world, as applied in Scripture to the sacrifice of Christ, has been unnecessarily restricted: the common way of explaining it is, that it simply includes Gentiles as well as Jews. I do not like that explanation; and I think that there is one text which puts that interpretation entirely aside. The text to which I allude is, that God commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent."...... "Human beings have the most strange way of keeping their accounts: they have one way of keeping their accounts with the world, and another way of keeping their accounts with heaven. In relation to the world, you will find men often open, and generous, and unsuspicious; but then they keep their accounts with heaven in the most suspicious and niggardly manner-in a manner with which I can have no sympathy-continually striving against, and fighting with, the goodness and sincerity of God, and they will not take God at his word" (iv. 513).

It was this confidence in God that gave perpetual repose and tranquillity to his soul; and, when anything arose to trouble him, he was accustomed to shake it off, saying that disquietudes lay light upon a man who could fix his heart on heaven. He sauntered out into the garden the evening before his death, and was overheard by one of the family, in low but very earnest tones, saying, "O Father, my heavenly Father;" and after family prayers he withdrew, when, bidding his family remember that they must be early to-morrow, he waved his hand, saying, "A general good night."

This was the last time he was seen alive: he was found the

next morning in his usual sleeping posture, which was half erect, the countenance and limbs so undisturbed that it was manifest that he had died without a struggle, having literally as well as spiritually fallen asleep in Jesus. Mark the perfect, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace.

We have dwelt exclusively on the personal character of Dr. Chalmers in the course of our remarks without adverting, on the present occasion, to his public services, although these services were the inducement to institute this examination of his private character; and our reason for doing so is this—that we believe the public services derived all their importance from the weight of his private character, the formation of which becomes therefore an enquiry of the greatest interest to trace. And it is a practical enquiry of universal interest; for much of that which went to constitute his character is within the reach of every one; and, though every one may not have the same capability, no one can tell what capability he has until he tries and such a course as that pursued by Dr. Chalmers must lead every one who follows it to some degree of eminence and render him a public benefactor of mankind.

;

And to the less ambitious and retiring spirits we would say that it is the only sure road to tranquillity and cheerfulness. The heart must first be set at peace with itself, by finding its peace with God, before it can truly enjoy anything else or give itself to any works of public utility; and, when it has found this peace, it longs to diffuse it and make others partakers of this heart-felt joy. It may only be in our power to enliven the domestic circle thereby-this is as Providence may appoint; but, however narrow the sphere, content and cheerfulness will be there which the world can neither give nor take away. Our picture of Dr. Chalmers would be incomplete without some traits of this:

"His youthful freshness of feeling imparted a singular charm to his manners and conversation. Even when verging on old age he was very strikingly characterised by the simplicity of vivacious and unsuspecting boyhood. Of this peculiarity he was himself quite conscious, and I have heard him more than once allude to it......The unselfishness of his delight in nature was very noticeable. He seemed to have a positive affection for the scenes and objects from which he drew so much pure enjoyment: it was as if his heart went out to them. It was scarcely possible to take even one short walk with him without perceiving that his capacity of enjoyment was singularly large. He could find beauty everywhere-at least, he could single out from the most ordinary scene some feature on which his mind could dwell with interest and pleasure. All the points from which the scenery of this locality could be viewed to most advantage he knew most tho

roughly; and, however interesting the conversation in which he might be engaged, it was sure to be interrupted when any one of these points was reached. He would pause for a moment-his eye would wander over the landscape, and with a smile mantling over his countenance he would give a brief but expressive utterance to his feelings of joy and admiration. Writing to one of his daughters he says With the aim fixed on a better world, not only is the happiness of the future, but that of the present life, most effectually provided for; and the peace of him who has chosen God in Christ for his portion is in itself a fulfilment of the saying that godliness hath the promise of the life which now is, as well as of that which is to come. To another daughter he writes-And now my last advice to you is selfdenial, or the habit of giving up your own will first to the will of God; and then, in things lawful, even in things indifferent, to the will of others also. I promise you the greatest enjoyment from the success of such a discipline; and, remember what I have often felt to be a most precious connection between obedience and spiritual discernment, in virtue of which I should look as the fruit of the sacrifice that I now recommend for a clearer view of the Gospel and its better method of salvation. Again he writes-'Still it is furthermore of mighty importance to learn what are our specific wants, that we may state them specifically before God, and that we may afterwards watch as specifically for the supply thereof. Believest thou that I am able to do this? was the question put by our Saviour to the man who asked a cure, and, according to his particular faith, so was it done unto him. Whatever the impediment or infirmity may be, let us ascertain it and pray for its removal. This will give rise to that process of discipline and cultivation in which what is called experimental religion mainly lies.' And, lastly, he recommends a due interchange of active and passive occupations, or of work and contemplation, as maintaining the mind in its balance-It is worthy of remark that even Brainerd testified to the great importance of a right and systematic distribution of time, and filling up each section of it with its own proper work, even for a healthful religious state of the soul. Both are best, and of the cultivation of both we have the best and highest examples. What a man, both of performance and prayers, was the Apostle Paul!-but, greatest of all, can aught be more instructive than the mingled life of our Saviour, of whom it is so often recorded that, after a day spent in the works and labours of love, he retired from the world and spent whole nights in prayer to his Father, the doing of whose will was meat and drink to him. Let us grow more and more into a conformity to his blessed image" (iv. 474-478).

We have endeavoured to make Dr. Chalmers speak for himself and be his own biographer, as far as possible, to give as fair a view of his personal character as we are able; for we think his course of experience to be in the highest degree instructive. We have only omitted one class of subjectsnamely, the peculiarities, sometimes amounting to oddities,

which every original character will occasionally exhibit. Dr. Chalmers's early devotion to mathematics, for instance, gave him such a habit of numbering that he was accustomed to count his steps in walking, and reckoned the flowers in the garden, and even stroped his razor a given number of times. The grandeur of his moral character is not at all lessened by such little eccentricities as these-which, in fact, rather tend to show that he was an open, candid, genuine man, who never sought to appear other than what he really was, and in all that he did affected no disguise or concealment.

In everything that bore upon morals, or upon the efficient discharge of his duties, Dr. Chalmers was watchful over himself even to scrupulosity; and one who knew not his habits might from his journals suppose that he was sometimes intemperate. But there was no habit of life about which he was so scrupulous. He was indifferent about food and remarkably abstemious; yet "his private journals are filled with constant laments over his own incautiousness and excess at table-so much so, that were these journals to fall into the hands of one ignorant of Dr. Chalmers's habits, he might draw from them a conclusion exactly opposite to the truth." Whenever he felt himself less capable of exertion after a meal, he attributed it to excess in eating, and made an entry to that effect in his journal. One night at Merchiston Castle, a biscuit was set before him at supper time; and while engaged in conversation he ate it all bit by bit without thinking of it: he had eaten nothing else, yet we find the following entry in his journal-"Exceeded tonight at supper."

It is good that such things as these should be recorded, for they bring the whole man before us; and, under a consciousness of our own infirmities, they make us feel that he belongs to the same species with ourselves; and, especially, they show us that, notwithstanding these infirmities, a man may still be capable of rendering the most important services to his country and to religion; and, above all, that they did not at all interfere with or impede his progress in vital Christianity, but belong solely to the accidents of this life and that earthly tabernacle with which we are at present burdened.

In conclusion, we may say that Dr. Hanna has very ably executed his task of preparing these memoirs; and, though we doubt not that it has been a labour of love, yet we also render him our hearty thanks for the instruction and gratification which we have derived from the perusal of these four volumes,

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ART. XI.-The History of Pendennis. By W. M. THACKERAY. London: Bradbury. 1850. Two Volumes 8vo.

NOVEL writing or, more correctly to speak, story-telling-in the innocent sense of the word—is the most ancient of all

authorship. Before Science was born, and when History was in her cradle, the imagination of man, if not as extensively, was as actively at work, in its limited sphere, as in the palmiest days of Messrs. Colburn and Bentley. We trace the progress of this species of literature from Eastern fable and apologue, through monkish legend of the earlier and moyen ages, down to the birth of the last fashionable novel. It is, and ever has been, the most popular of all writing; for this simple reason, that it requires no labour of thought on the part of the reader, who is amused, "he knows not why, and cares not wherefore." A man may go to sleep over a novel, but it never fatigues him. Lives have been sacrificed to a double first class or a senior wranglership. There is Prussic acid in Euclid, and Strychnine in Pindar and Herodotus; but no man ever died of a novel. It is now many years ago that we were consulted by an anxious mother on the terrible tendency of the studious habits of her only son-"he was always reading-there was no getting him from his books." We asked to be shown into his study: the table was strewn with the fictions of Fielding and Smollett. "Comfort yourself, my dear lady (was our consolatory reply); your son's studies may not greatly enrich his mind, but they won't damage his constitution." We have been-as who, whether he "own the soft impeachment" or deny it, has not?— a great novel reader in our time. Our earliest acquaintance in that line was Smollett-a man of "infinite jest," but of indifferent humour as far as temper was concerned, and therefore second, in our juvenile judgment, to the more philosophic and better-natured Fielding. Cumberland, an ominous name for an author in the light literature line, and somewhat typical of his style, contributed his quota to the amusement of our younger leisure; while of Mrs. Radcliffe-the anticipator of Madame Tussaud's "Chamber of Horrors"-we have a grateful though not very lively recollection. Then came the dismal reign of the "Minerva Press," appropriately located in Leadenhall-street; and its reign was as protracted as it was dismal. Nothing, perhaps, can better illustrate the low ebb to which this class of writing had sunk in those dreary days than the sensation produced by "Thinks I to Myself"—a little volume which, although clever and smart enough in its