the salvation of his fellow men, would select for the commencement of his public labours. The topics which they suggest are of all others the most solemn, as they are the most simple and the most important in the whole range of inspired truth, and hence they were best adapted to the preacher's age, and the unlettered character of his auditors. It seems, that in his earliest sermons there was nothing of that parade and glare-nothing of that excessive fondness of figures and love of imagery, which too often mark the first compositions of youthful preachers-preachers who, in a more advanced stage of their ministry, have not been less respectable or useful than he.

Whether this is to be considered as an excellence or defect, it is probable, with some, may be a matter of debate. Dr. Blair, (or rather Quintilian, from whom he copies,*) in his remarks on the early compositions of public speakers, urges in favour of that exuberance of imagination and excess of ornament, that time and experience will prune all this away, and in proportion as the fire of youth declines, the glare of the composition will sink into the settled lustre of maturer age. And hence he argues, for an excessive indulgence of the imagination at this period; since by the time the powers are called into full aud steady exercise, they will have undergone a certain train of discipline, and have found their proper limits; but if the com

* Quintilian again quotes from Cicero, the great master of eloquence; whose remarks on this subject are worthy his immortal pen.-Vid. Quint. Just. Orat. lib. 11. ch. 4. et Cicero de Orat. lib. 11. ch. 21.

position has all the judicious sobriety of that maturer age, amid the vigour and vivacity of youth, what is it likely to be in the more advanced stages of its exercise, but cold, insipid, and dull.

But surely all depends upon the nature of the subject, and the source whence the public orator is to draw the energy which must give animation to his discourses. The fire of genius, the glow of imagination, must be the enkindling torches in the senate-at the bar; but though not altogether useless in the pulpit, yet they are not the lawful sour'ces of animation there. It is not the blaze of genius, or the glow of imagination; but the sacred flame of fervent piety, the holy kindlings of a mind moved by principles derived from heaven, and the generous efforts of a soul impelled by an intense desire for the salvation of a dying world, that must impart life and energy to the correct, but glowing statements,—the warm and empassioned appeals of the ambassador for Christ. Other sources of animation may be exhausted by exercise, and dried up by time; but this can never fail. It will remain the same when the head of the venerable prophet is covered with hoary hairs, and the body is sunk in the decrepitude of age. Nay, as in the case of the apostle Paul, it will rise into brighter radiance as he advances to the termination of his course, a more ardent panting for the salvation of mankind will mark his dying hours, than that which attended his entrance on his labours; and with David, the last prayer his spirit breathes will be for the universal diffusion of that gospel, which it has been the business and

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the honour of his life to preach- Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who only doth wondrous things. And blessed be his glorious name forever; and let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen and Amen.'

We now arrive at a period in Mr. Spencer's history, peculiarly critical and important.During the vacation of Christmas, 1807, the Rev. Mr. Leifchild, of Kensington, was supplying the pulpit at Hoxton chapel. One Sabbath afternoon, in January, Mr. Spencer being then returned to the academy from Hertford, Mr. L. expressed a wish that he should assist him, in the public service, by reading the scriptures and engaging in prayer. The request was granted, and an extract of a letter obligingly addressed by that gentleman to me, will convey a lively picture of the deep impression which his appearance and manner produced upon the large congregation before whom he stood.

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But when he appeared in the pulpit-after the first emotions of surprise were over, and after the mistakes of some, who supposed that he was a little boy belonging to the gallery, who, from ignorance or thoughtlessness, had gone up the pulpit stairs, instead of those leading to his seat had been corrected, so sweetly did he read the chapter,* so

* On the evening of the following Sunday, Mr. L. addressed young people; when Mr. Spencer again conducted the devotional part of the service. The chapter which he then read was Ecclesiastes xii. A person since received into the church at Hoxton, dated her first serious impressions from the reading of that chapter, and the solemn prayer then offered up.

earnestly, so scripturally, so experimentally, did he engage in prayer, that for the whole six Sabbaths afterwards he became the chief magnet of attraction to the place. The people now insisted upon it he should preach. 1 need not name his subsequent

success."

The entreaties of the people having prevailed, Mr. Spencer, though contrary to the standing order of the institution, was allowed to preach. It was a delicate situation. Yet it was one to which he had long and anxiously aspired. Indeed, so strong was his desire for the public engagements of the ministry, that the fear of being long denied the gratification of his wishes, on account of his youth, actually preyed upon his spirits so severely as even to affeet his health. But it was not from the love of fame or popular applause that he cherished this desire, but from the hope of being early and extensively useful;-as if urged by a presentiment of his impending fate-immediately to commence those hon.ourable labours from which he was to be called so soon. When he appeared in the pulpit at Hoxton, a youth just seventeen years of age, he betrayed none of that distressing anxiety which marks the candidate for public approbation; but stood with all the dignified composure, and spoke with all the unembarrassed energy of an ambassador for Christ. His text was, Psalm xxxii. 6, For this shall every one that is godly pray unto thee in a time when thou mayest be found; surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come nigh unto thee!' At the close of his discourse, the sentiments which dwelt upon the lips and countenances of his auditors were those

of pleasure, admiration, and surprise. His excess sive youth the simplicity of his appearance-the modest dignity of his manner-the sweetness of his voice-the weight and importance of his doctrine— and the force-the affection-and the fervour with which he directed it, to the hearts and consciences of those who heard him-charmed and delighted, whilst they edified. And retiring from the sanctuary to the social circle, they dwelt alternately on the loveliness of the preacher, and the importance of the truths which they had heard from his lips.

Upon this scene the Christian student may, with advantage, pause and meditate. Looking forward, perhaps with considerable apprehension, to the period of his public entrance on the labours of the ministry, he may be anxious to ascertain what was the secret spring-the hidden source, of that calm composure and unfettered boldness, which characterised the earliest addresses of this interesting youth. To such then I can confidently say, it was not the proud consciousness of superior powers, of erudition-of genius, or of eloquence; but it was the influence of a heart warmed with the love of Christ, big with the vast moment of his solemn theme, and panting with an ardour which no circumstances of difficulty could suppress, for the salvation of sinners. Such an influence as this will make the coward bold, and convert the most timid and feeble into valiant and successful champions of the cross. Before an influence like this, the love of fame, the glare of popularity, the opinions and the plaudits of mankind retire. No consideration remains but that of the worth of immortal souls,