melancholy feeling which this reflection has awakened in my mind. I am arrived at length upon the eve of a mournful detail, which all along I have anticipated with emotions of distress. Alas! that one so useful should be so soon removed! And that ere we enter on the solemn engagements of his pastoral life, we should be compelled to notice circumstances so closely connected with his death! The following Sabbath, January 27th, was the last he spent in London. On that day he preached in the morning at Hoxton chapel, from Phil. iii. 8, 6 Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.' And in the evening at Tonbridge chapel, from 2 Cor. iv. 3, But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost.' The labours of this Sabbath completed his engagements at Hoxton and Tonbridge chapels; but on the evening of the following day (Monday) he took an affectionate leave of his beloved friends-the constituents-the tutors-the students-and the congregation at Hoxton, from the pulpit of that chapel. The crowd that pressed to hear his last sermon (for so it proved) in London was immense. One common sentiment of attachment and grief seemed to pervade the assembly. A friend charged him on that occasion not to play upon the passions. Not that he was in the habit of doing this; but there appeared on this occasion a probability that he might. To that suggestion he replied—that “neither his feelings nor his conscience would admit of such trifling." He addressed the people on this interesting occasion from those memorable words of Paul-Acts xx. 24, But none of 6 these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto me, so that I may finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus.'* Thus were Spencer's labours in the metropolis closed forever-labours-the renewal of which thousands anticipated with delight. But he was ripening fast for glory--and rapidly advancing to the termination of his course. Yea, the impression of his excellence--the feeling of regret at his departure --was yet strong and lively in the hearts of many, when the tidings of his death shed a deeper sorrow through the scenes and circles which he had edified by his public instructions, or enlivened by his private friendship! It was on the 28th of January, that Mr. Spencer preached his farewell sermon at Hoxton chapeland it was on the 15th of August, in the same year, in the same pulpit--and to nearly the same congregation--that his funeral sermon was delivered by the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, one of the tutors of the academy. In that discourse, a just and elegant tribute was paid to the mingled piety and talent which formed the charm of his ministry. From the known endowments of the preacher, and from the opportunities which he enjoyed of obtaining a correct estimate of Mr. Spencer's powers, that tribute must derive considerable propriety and force : and as it chiefly regards his ministerial labours in London, I shall close these imperfect memoirs of them with an extract from it. "During the last two years of our valuable friend's residence at Hoxton, he was very frequently engaged *See Appendix, No. IV. in preaching in London and its vicinity. As this chapel has been, on many occasions, the scene of his labours, and has been often thronged with the multitudes attracted by his abilities and piety, I need scarcely attempt an estimate of his pulpit talents. That they were eminent-that they were brilliantthat they were captivating-will not, I think, be denied by any who witnessed their exhibition. He undoubtedly displayed no small degree of pulpit eloquence, and his eloquence was distinguised by characteristic features. It was not the kind of eloquence in which a youth of genius might be expected most to excel, and of which luxuriance of imagination constitutes the chief attraction; it was not a peculiar vivacity of fancy, which gave life to his addresses, although in this respect they were not deficient; but they rather owed their effect to the energy and animation infused by the ardour of his soul, and to the unaffected fervour of his religious feelings, the impression of which was aided by no small advantages of person, voice, and elocution. In endeavouring rightly to appreciate his qualifications for the duties of the Christian ministry, I must not omit to notice the truly edifying manner in which he conducted the devotional exercises of the pulpit. His gift in prayer was peculiarly excellent. The language of his petitions seemed to breathe the ardent aspirations of a heart alive to God, and accustomed to enjoy followship with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."* * See a Sermon, delivered in Hoxton chapel, on the death of the Rev. T. Spencer, by the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, M. A. one of the tutors of the Hoxton Academy-page 32. That he was maturing fast for the enjoyment of his reward, even when he left London to commence his pastoral engagements, is a conviction indelibly impressed upon the minds of those who were accustomed to attend his preaching, or mingle in his society. They remember certain expressions, both of countenance and language, which seemed to indicate a tone of piety-a spirituality of feeling-too exalted for a long continuance here. And it is to be regretted, that such expressions, at the time so powerful in their influence, and so carefully preserved by a tenacious memory, no pen-no pencil can portray. Hence the sermons of animated and extemporary preachers, when introduced to us from the press, lose half their force and beauty. The scope of the discourse the process of the argument-may be indeed preserved; but the unpremeditated, momentary flashes of holy fervour, and of brilliant genius, cannot. The eloquence of the eye-the expression of the countenance-the meaning which is sometimes thrown into every limb and muscle of the frame— are wanting. And though 'tis pleasing to possess a memorial of those, whom living we revered and loved, yet the imperfection of the copy only deepens our regret at the loss of the original. In the preaching of Spencer, it seemed as though he saw before him every object he described-and felt the full force the vast importance of every subject upon which he spoke. Preaching one evening at Back-street, HorsleyDown, and speaking of the reward of the faithful gospel minister, "Methinks," said he, "I already hear the melodious accents of the Saviour's voice, saying Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of thy Lord." It was remarked, that he appeared as though he heard a voice personally addressing him. His anticipation was in a very few months realized! Anxious for the usefulness and variety of his ministry, he begged of his friend, upon his leaving London, to send him any useful pamphlets or works which might come out; "Let me know," said he, "when popular ministers are in town-the texts they take for particular occasions-festivals, &c. the settling or removal of my fellow students," &c. The last time he was with his friend alone, prior to his setting off for Liverpool, their approaching separation was, as may be well imagined, the topic of discourse when, with his own peculiar affection and energy, he said "Through Christ when we together came, And in thy name we part. We part in body, not in mind, And each to each, in Jesus join'd, Present in spirit still we are, And intimately nigh; While on the wings of faith and prayer, O may thy Spirit, dearest Lord, In all our travels still Direct and be our constant guard |