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objects, to the sphere in which they move, such a love of novelty-such a fondness of variety-such a taste for something perpetually original-is excited and constantly fed-that whatever is uniform and solid, in the ministry of their established and experienced pastors, while it secures the attention and regard of the judicious and and discerning, disce is too often neglected as stale and insipid by the more lively and enlightened class of hearers. A new name is announced on the cover of a Magazine, or from the pulpit of some celebrated chapel, and thither the unstable multitude direct their steps. They sit in solemn judgment on the preacher's manner--his appearance-his action, and his voice; for amongst too many, alas! it is to be lamented, that the solemn truths which he delivers are but secondary objects of regard. If there should be nothing striking in his manner-nothing melodious in his voice-nothing singular in his appearancenothing peculiar in his system-and nothing particularly favorable in the circumstances of his introduction to the pulpits of the metropolis, there he may continue his appointed period, and when it has expired, return to the peaceful village or the quiet town, where it is his lot to labor

"The world forgetting-by the world forgot."

On the other hand, with this class of hearers the preacher who secures their admiration instantly becomes their idol. As if irresistibly impelled to extremes, they lavish on him the warmest eulogies and adulation, often too palpable to be endured. Forgetting that he is a man of like passions with themselves, they heap their honors on his head as though he could remain insensible to the plaudits they bestow, and perfectly superior to the influence of every principle of pride. The following lines of the inimitable Cowper too well express the sentiments which in these remarks must suggest themselves to every thinking mind, not to obtain inser

tion here:

"O Popular Applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms?
The wisest and the best feel urgent need
Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales;
But swell'd into a gust-who then, alas!
With all his canvass spread and inexpert,
And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power?
Praise from the rivell'd lips of worthless bald
Decrepitude, and in the looks of lean
And craving Poverty, and in the bow
Respectful of the smutch'd artificer,
Is oft too welcome, and may much disturb
The bias of the purpose. How much more
Pour'd forth by beauty splendid and polite,
In language soft as Adoration breathes?
Ah spare your idol! think him human still.
Charms he may have, but he has frailties too.
Dote not too much, nor spoil what ye admire."

But the preaching of Mr. Spencer, even in his earliest discourses, was not of that light and meretricious kind which may secure the temporary ad

* I believe that general experience will justify the observation, that however attendant circumstances may contribute, in the first instance, to render an individual popular, nothing but sterling worth can secure its perpetuity; and whenever the preaching of a popular minister has endured, without injury to his reputation, the ordeal of a ten or twenty years trial, he may safely be regarded as possessing an excellence superior to any thing his manner could exhibit. But I feel the delicacy of the topic I have thus ventured to introduce, and gladly refer to illustrations of the same subject by more experienced and far abler hands.

miration of the wandering and unsettled. It possessed much of the solid-the experimental, and judicious; and this secured him the attention and esteem of those, whose approbation any man would esteem it an honor to possess. But this only tended to heighten his danger. God, however, gave him grace equal to his day. His letters during his popularity in London breathe the same spirit of humility as that which marked his earlier correspondence; and a piety seldom surpassed in fervor and sincerity tended to preserve him steady in the midst of that tempestuous sea, upon whose billows, though young and inexperienced, it was his lot to ride.

Numerous and pressing however as were the invitations from different parts of the metropolis and its neighborhood, yet Mr. Spencer did not preach again in London (except in the work-houses, which the students regularly supplied, and also once in a small chapel in Hackney Road) until September. In the meanwhile his talent for preaching had ample exercise in various parts of the country, which during this period he was allowed to visit. So that, from January 7th to September 8th he preached no less than sixty times. The following are the principal places which were then favored with his labors:-Royden, Godmanchester, Ripton, Buntingford, Hertford, Dorking, Rumford, Harlow, Royston, Hadham, Hays, Chigwell, and Mill-Hill. At all these places the attention he excited was considerable, and the impression he left remains with the people to this day.*

Mr. Spencer's second sermon at Hoxton chapel was delivered on the evening of Thursday, September 8th. It confirmed the opinion of his excellence produced by the first. His text was, Acts x. 36. "He is Lord of all."

The general sentiment of approbation and delight at first excited by his youthful appearance, and his extraordinary pulpit talents, was now deepened and established, and he began to preach pretty extensively in the pulpits of the metropolis and its neighborhood. On Sunday, September 18th, we find him in the pulpit at Hol Holywell Mount chapel, and on the Sunday following, in that at Kennington chapel; and on the afternoon of Sunday, December 13th, he supplied the chapel in Old Gravel Lane, Wapping.t During the autumn of this year he also visited several parts of the country immediately surrounding London; and he preached, among other places, at Upminster, Upsom, Guilford, Roydon, and High Wycombe.

With respect to the wisdom and propriety of permitting such extensive public labors, in one so young, and at so early a stage of his academical course, there will be perhaps a diversity of opinion. On the general question, in which this is but an individual case, there can be but one sentiment. Nothing tends more to dissipate the mind, than much travelling and much society; and particularly injurious to the fixed and laborious habits of a student's life is that kind of intercourse with society, which the young minister, in his occasional visits, usually obtains. The esteem in which, for the most part the name of a minister is held, in the circles which

See Fuller's Life of Pearce; and Jay's Life of Cornelius Winter. Books in which examples, the one of more public, the other of more retired, but not less transcendant excellence, seem to live before us for our instruction. To every student for the Christian ministry they must prove an invaluable treasure.

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For specimens of his early pulpit compositions, see Appendix No. II.

+ The church assembling in Old Gravel Lane, formerly sat under the ministry of the late Rev. Noah Hill, but now enjoy the pastoral care of the Rev. Mr. Hooper, one of the tutors in the college at Hoxton.

he enters, secures him an attention and an ease by far too flattering not to be injurious; whilst the refined and fascinating maniers of some societies but ill prepare the mind for the imperatively severe characters of academic life. But perhaps a far more serious object of regard is the time which is thus necessarily and irretrievably lost to the great and avowed object of his pursuit. It is impossible to take a review of the past year of Mr. Spencer's life, and number up the several places at which he has preached-at some of them two or three times, whilst others he visited more than once, calculating their respective distances from Hoxton, and the time necessarily occupied in travelling, together with the many hours, perhaps days, which must have been consumed in preparing the discourses there delivered-without being struck with a conviction, of the immense loss which in a literary point of view he must have sustained; and the pursuit of literature is, after all, the professed object of our dissenting colleges. Considering too, that this was but Mr. Spencer's second year of study, and connecting this with the shortness of the term he had to stay, and his exceeding youth, the impression is yet deepened. But Mr. Spencer's was an extraordinary case. His forte was the composition and delivery of sermons. He was at home and happy only in this sacred work. He seemed but to live for this object. Other objects he might contemplate, with respect and even esteem, excited by an impression of their utility and excellence-on this his heart perpetualty dwelt with a fervent and impassioned love. It was evidently for this God had especially designed him; and for the work he had to accomplish, and the early account he had to render-all perhaps are now convinced that he was not suffered to begin too soon. For one whose day of usefulness has proved so short, and over whom the night of death so early and so suddenly has shed its gloom, we cannot but rejoice that the first dawn was devoted to his honorable labor, and not even a solitary hour neglected, from the commencement to the termination of his career.*

Mr. Spencer preached again at Hoxton chapel on Christmas day, morning and evening; and also delivered an address, on the following evening, at the prayer meeting. A day or two after he left London for Brighton, and preached his first sermon in that celebrated seat of gaiety and fashion on the evening of Thursday, December 29th, at the Countess of Huntingdon's chapel, from Zach. vi. 12, "Behold the man whose name is the branch, and he shall build the temple of the Lord." On Sunday, 1st January, 1809, he preached in the afternoon at the Rev. Mr. Stiles' chapel, and again in the evening at the Countess'.

I am the more particular in marking the date of his first visit to Brighton, as it commences a new year, and forms also a most important epoch in his history. The interesting and endeared connections which he afterwards formed there, tend to throw a new and brilliant light upon his character; whilst they shed a softer air of melancholy around the circumstances of his early and lamented fate!t

* A contemplation of the facts connected with the interesting, but melancholy history of Spencer, may however, tend to show, that, whilst much preaching and much travelling are to be depreciated as evils, especially in the earlier stages of a student's course, yet that no specific rules can be established in this case for universal and invariable application. On the propriety of the thing, in every case of students under their care, the TUTORS are the best qualified to decide. Those who knew Spencer, will enter fully into the meaning of this paragraph. I owe it, however, to those who knew him not, to say, that tenderness to

Alas! of what moment to the Christian minister is the formation of connections such as these. Delicate as the subject may be, and ill qualified as I feel I am to enter fully into its discussion, I yet cannot sufier it to pass without some observations on its vast importance. By imprudence here, how many have destroyed, if not their character, yet to an alarming extent their usefulness and comfort. Upon the partner which a minister selects, much of his happiness depends. He must be indeed a child of sorrow, who with a heart broken by disappointment, and a brow clouded by care-such cares and disappointments as too frequently impart a character of gloom to many a pious pastor's life-finds no relief in his domestic circle, and seeks in vain for the soothing influence of sympathy in the individual whom he has chosen to be a "help meet for him." The important subject thus reluctantly though unavoidably introduced, distributes itself into many branches, each interesting in its kind, on each of which, age and experience might with considerable propriety descant; and however unwilling I might be to enter more largely into the discussion, yet did I think myself sufficiently possessed of either, I would certainly reprobate in the severest terms that rash and thoughtless haste which too often marks the decision of students and youthful ministers in this respect, and which too frequently leads to settled distress-final ruin-or shameful infidelity! To the honor of Spencer be it recorded, that his choice in the first instance displayed his wisdom: his uniform attachment until death, his constancy !

Mr. Spencer preached again at the Countess of Huntingdon's chapel, at Brighton, on Thursday evening, January 5th, and left that place on the fol lowing day. On the ensuing Sunday he preached at Holloway, morning and afternoon; and on the evening of Tuesday the 10th, addressed an immense congregation from the pulpit of that truly excellent man, the Rev. Rowland Hill, at Surry chapel. The subject of his discourse was Deut. xxxiii. 3, " Yea, he loved the people ; all his saints are in thy hand, and they sat down at thy feet, every one shall receive of thy words!''

Between this date and the following midsummer, his labors appear to have been, in point both of number and success, truly astonishing. He now preached much in and about London, and wherever his name was announced, the crowd that flocked to his ministry, proved how extensive and deep the impression was which it had excited. Besides occupying many of the most respectable pulpits in the metropolis, during this period, he visited and preached in the following places: Guilford, Epsom, Worthing, Barking, Roydon, Dorking, Buntingford, Winchmore-Hill, Saffron, Walden, and Hertford. During his stay at Worthing, which was in the month of February, he made several excursions to Brighton, which became more endcared to him by every visit. The attachment was mutual. His ministry excited universal attention; multitudes pressed to hear him. The public prints declared their admiration of his powers; and the private circle forgot the trifling topics of the day, intent uron the discussion of his rare and extraordinary talents. More especially did he bind to him, in affectionate remembrance, the hearts of the young, by the warmth, simplicity, and affection of his addresses to them: and in no place which was honored by his labors, was his worth more fully appreciated in life, or his loss more deeply and universally lamented in death!

On the evening of Thursday, the 18th of May, he feelings I should dread to wound, compels me to draw a veil over one of the most interesting scenes of his life.

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To our simple, homely fare,
Come and welcome-banish care;
Climb our hills, and health inhale,
Borne upon the scented gale.

Bury in this wooded glen,
All the cares of busy men:

It is not that my lot is low, pomtalt def That bids this silent tear to flow;

It is not grief that bids me moen,

It is, that I am all alone.

I con

Haddon to meet me on my way thither, or to return her, to which I know you will not object.
with me any part of the way home. Last Tuesday
evening Mr. Moore very politely offered to take me
to Epsom, to hear Mr. Clayton the next day; which
offer I most willingly accepted. On the whole, we
had rather a pleasant day. Mr. George Clayton
preached on Mat. xxi. 28. It may perhaps give you
pleasure to hear, that I preached very comfortably
last Lord's day from the new Bible, which is exactly
the thing. I should know very little of the trials
and difficulties of life, were I always to live as I now
do. I really feel sometimes as if I needed some-
thing to quicken me to diligence, and put thegraces
of the Spirit in exercise, which, I am afraid, were
I long to glide down life's stream so easily as I now
do, would begin to die. Ease is a dangerous foe to
the prosperity of religion in the soul, and opposition
of some kind is essentially necessary for us who
profess a religion which is described as a race to be
run; as a battle to be fought, and which is represent-
ed to us by every metaphor which gives us the idea
of active labor and unceasing exertion. I hope to
have the happiness of frequently meeting with you
after my return to town; and I have the pleasure to
inform you, that my appointments favor such inten-
tion. Mr. Wilson has written to inform me that I
shall preach in town for five Sabbaths after the va-
cation. The manuscripts you sent highly delight
Mrs. Smith wishes me to leave Herbert with

tinue about the same in health as I was when you
left me; and am very thankful that here I have not
to preach so many times as at several other places.
That the good will of Him who dwelleth in the
bush may ever countenance and console you; that
the divine Spirit may ever lead you into all the
truth; that you may possess every evidence that you
have found favor in the sight of the Lord; and that
Christ Jesus may be your eternal portion, is my
humble, earnest prayer. Let us hope hereafter to
behold his face together, in a world where we shall
be liable to change and separation no more, but
where we shall be enclosed in glory, changeless as
his own. This is the desire of one who can truly
call himself,

me.

In woods and glens I love to roam,
When the tir'd hedger hies him home;
Or by the wood-land pool to rest,
When pale the star looks on its breast.

Yet when the silent ev'ning sighs,
With hallow'd airs and symphonies,
My spirit takes another tone,
And sighs that it is all alone.

The autumn leaf is sear and dead,
It floats upon the water's bed;
I would not be a leaf to die
Without recording sorrow's sigh.

The woods and winds with sullen wail,
Tell all the same unvaried tale;
I've none to smile when I am free,
And when I sigh, to sigh with me!

Yet in my dreams a form I view,
That thinks on me, and loves me too:
I start, and when the vision's flown,

I weep that I am all alone.

To these mild complainings of this sainted bard, a reply, characterized by the same tenderness of thought and elegance of expression, has been furnished by the pen of Mr. Josiah Conder, of London:

ON READING THE POEM ON SOLITUDE,
In the second volume of H. K. White's Remains.
Bur art thou thus indeed alone?
Quite unbefriended-all unknown?
And hast thou then His name forgot,
Who form'd thy frame and fix'd thy lot!

Is not his voice in evening's gale ?
Beams not with him the star so pale!
Is there a leaf can fade and die,
Unnotic'd by his watchful eye?

Each fluttering hope, each anxious fear-
Each lonely sigh, each silent tear,
To thine Almighty Friend is known:
And says't thou, thou art "all alone!"

"Your's most affectionately,

"THOMAS SPENCER."

"My kind hostess desires to be respectfully remembered to you. I expect I shall be in town next Tuesday."

Mr. Spencer left Dorking after the last Sabbath in July, and preached the six following Sundays in and about London. The places at which he labored during these six weeks were White-Row, Pell-street, Jewin-street, Camden chapel, Adelphi chapel, and Hoxton chapel. At Jewin-street he preached four Sabbaths, out of the six, afternoons and evenings. In the mean while his health still continued but indifferent, and indeed so much exertion both of mental and of physical strength was but ill calculated to promote its vigor. His mind, however, seemed every day to grow in activity and zeal. In the pulpit-in society, he was all animation and life. Like most who are the victims of much nervous irritability, his flow of spirits was excessive, which frequently led to ungenerous and merciless observations from those, who either had not the wisdom or the candor to attribute, what might appear as levity in him, to its real cause. It is indeed an unhappy circumstance, when such is the natural tendency of a man's mental constitution, and from nothing perhaps have young ministers suffered more than from this. At the same time, it is a shame and scandal to the Christian world, that there should be so many, who, professing to be the friends of students and youthful preachers, encourage and excite this unhappy bias, for their own amusement, and are then the first to censure the youth they have be trayed!

But where such is the natural disposition of a pious and devoted mind, its exercise in company is often followed by the keenest anguish and the deepest melancholy, in hours of solitude and reflection. The severe and malignant censurer should remember, that he is not omnipresent; and that there may be scenes in the retired life of the character he injures, which would put him to the blush! These remarks have been suggested by some passages in the following letter.

XVI.

TO MR. JOHN HADDON.

"Hoxton, August 15, 1809.

"MY DEAR FRIEND-I am sorry to inform you, that it is not in my power to gratify yourself, to please our friends, or to fulfil my own wishes, by devoting any evening in the week to visiting. I really cannot do it. My engagements this week are such as peremptorily to require my continuance at home, most likely till Sabbath day, at any rate till Saturday afternoon. I am obliged to those kind friends who expressed their concern about my exertions. I feel that I am not worthy of their sympathy. May their compassion lead them to pray for me, that I may be strengthened with all might by

the Spirit in my inner man; and that He whose pleasure it is to increase strength to those that have no might, would help the infirmities of one who is weaker than a bruised reed, and yet has undertaken an office, to the discharge of which an angel is incompetent. My health is certainly in a better condition than it has been, but I am afraid I am still far from well: my head frequently aches, and I feel a sickness in my stomach. These are some of the miseries that flesh is heir to; but it is a joyful thought, that in the kingdom of glory our bodies will be no longer susceptible of pain, nor our minds of disquietude. Perfect health, composure, and joy, will be our happy lot when we see each other in a better world. And can we not hope that we shall do this; and that for ever we shall adore our common Saviour together? The leadings of his providence first brought us acquainted with each other; and the methods of his grace will, I hope, lead us on to glory, and in our way thither make us helps to each other. Pray for me, that my diligence may be excited; my levities checked; and my spirituality promoted. After all I say against the the world, I must confess with shame that I am very like many of the men of the world in this respect; that I indulge in a lightness of disposition which is inconsistent with the character of a Christian, and makes us resemble those who never think of eternity and the solemnities of religion. Ah! my dear friend and brother, I have experienced in my short life many a bitter hour, occasioned by my own folly in this respect. But what a scandal is it to a professing Christian, that natural dispositions and surrounding temptations should overcome a principle of grace in the heart-a principle which ought ever to operate powerfully in weaning us from folly, and making us every day more and more serious and holy. Never do you be afraid of cautioning, or reproving me, but give me opportunity to prove that 'Faithful are the words of a friend! I have felt more, in reference to yourself, than I have ever yet expressed. More affection for you; more gratitude that Providence placed you in my way; and more determination to make you my counsellor and friend-than I have ever yet told you. The Lord help us to strengthen each other's hands in his good ways. I shall not like your letters so well if you do not direct them yourself. This you will say is folly, but I cannot help it. Adieu!

"Your's affectionately,

"THOMAS SPENCER."

"N. B. Saturday afternoon, if possible, I will see you."

The history of the following month is from the pen of his most intimate friend.

"At his return (from Dorking) he supplied Jewin-street meeting for a month, in the afternoons and evenings, where the attention he excited will not be easily forgotten. Before he left, numbers could not get admittance. The church were very anxious that he should settle among them, but their desire could not be complied with. I have heard him blamed respecting that business; but it was only by those who did not know the circumstances of the case. I was in the possession of his heart in that affair, and it would be unjust to his memory not to declare, that he was free from blame. His affectionate spirit keenly felt for them in their disappointment. The good people at Jewin-street,' said he, in a letter to me, 'have a strong claim upon our prayers; and it was to sooth their minds that he composed his sermon upon Isaiah xxxiii. 20.

* The church was then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Timothy Priestly, a truly venerable divine, whose age and infirmities rendered the aid of a colleague necessary.

The time of his supplying at Jewin-street, was very pleasant to me. I claimed the whole of his time between and after the services, which inclined him to enjoy that retirement which was so congenial to his lowly soul. When going to preach no one saw him. I used to knock at his door-give in his refreshment and watch the time for him. It was from the mount of communion that he always went to the pulpit, and this caused his sermons to shine gloriously. Frequently in passing to the house of God we kept perfect silence, while his mind has been so entirely absorbed, that I have found a necessity for guiding him; and after worship he loved to stop as long as he conveniently could, that he might pass away unnoticed. But such was the character of Spencer-his deep humility-fervent piety-and amiable simplicity, that I am fully convinced it cannot be fairly stated without suspicion of exaggeration; and I must confess, that I should have found great difficulty in giving fallen nature credit for the excellencies, which, from the closest inspection I saw resident in that truly illustrious and holy youth."

The following letter, written on the Saturday previous to the last Sabbath of his supplying Jewinstreet chapel, discloses his feelings with respect to the church in that place, and will prove to the people with how much affection he wrote and thought of them. Nor will it be less valuable for the spirit of filial love and duty which it breathes.

XVII.

TO MR. JOHN HADDON.

September 2, 1809.

"MY DEAR FRIEND-Truly sorry am I in any case to disappoint you, and yet it must be so as it respects this evening. Before seven o'clock I am necessitated to go from home, nor can I return till late in the evening. You ask, 'can you not give up this engagement? I answer, this is impossible; because nothing short of filial duty is the cause of my absence from home. This morning I received a letter from my dear father, telling me that he must be in town to-day, although he has been travelling in the country all the week, and he wishes me to meet him this evening, at half-past six o'clock. This, I am sure will be regarded as a sufficient reason by you, and nothing short of such a reason could induce me to go out at all this evening, for to tell you the truth, I am very unwell. My head and my side have suffered exceedingly for a day or two past, more especially to-day. Norare my prospects of the morrow of the most enlivening kind. In fact, too, my spirits are very low. The sight of my aged parent may perhaps revive them, and make my heart rejoice, even mine! Mr. W. has just told me, that he has informed Mr. S. that I cannot supply them any longer than to-morrow. The opinion of the committee, &c. goes against them! For my part, I can only say, My God, thy will be done! You will see me at Jewin-street in the afternoon, but whether able or incapacitated to perform my duty there, I know not. Pray for me, that much grace may communicate to me sufficient strength.

"Whether well or ill, cheerful or melancholy, I

am yours affectionately, "THOMAS SPENCER."

Having completed his engagements at Jewinstreet, Spencer's labors became again miscellaneous and widely diffused. On Sabbath day the 17th, he preached at Roydon, a village near Hertford, when he availed himself of the opportunity which this appointment afforded him of visiting his family. I cannot but conceive the bliss which such occasional interviews would cause in that little circle, which

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