seldom failed to resort to the fallen, polluted, guilty, helpless state of man. He consulted not the inelinations, the passions or the prejudices of his hearers, but preached simply, faithfully, and affectionately, the most humiliating, as well as the most animating doctrines of the gospel. Whatever text he struck, living waters seemed immediately to flow. Whatever was the subject, or the occasion-his holy and ardent mind, ever panting for the salvation of immortal souls, connected with it truths and considerations, the most solemn and important. His applications were forcible and impressive. There he wrestled with the people, with a fervour, resembling that with which, in prayer, he wrestled with his God. He seemed to exhaust every argument which might be brought to bear upon his great object, and to these he often added appeals and entreaties, the most tender and affecting. Then he seemed to lose sight of every consideration, but his own responsibility, and his people's good-and as though the congregation before him were the only people remaining to be saved, and as though every time of preaching was the only opportunity afforded him of using the means for their salvation, he besought them, as an ambassador for Christ, to be reconciled to God.

The general cast of his preaching may be gathered from his texts, which are freely scattered up and down in the preceding pages. By his confession of faith it will be seen, that his sentiments were most decidedly what have obtained, in the Christian world, the epithet, Calvinistic—exactly in conformity with the Shorter Catechism of the Assembly of Divines.

To these doctrines he was most warmly attached, and as they were the subjects of his firm belief, so were they the constant topics of his discourse, both in public and in private. Valuing these doctrines so highly, and cherishing so deep a sense of their importance, we cannot be surprised that he should feel and express regret, when he saw them, in the sermons of ministers, neglected and cast into the shade. Perhaps, in his mode of expression, on such occasions, he was sometimes incautious.* Admitting that it was so, we cannot but admire the principle. Where doctrines assume, in the view of the individual, an importance, similar to that which we are accustomed to attach to those grand principles which formed the basis of Mr. Spencer's ministry, we cannot be surprised if he expresses warmly his regret, when he beholds them undervalued or abandoned.

* Christians, and especially Christian ministers, should be sparing in the use of those broad and unqualified assertions respecting their brethren in the ministry, which are so easily made, yet so difficult to prove, and so injurious in their influence. It is easy to say, he does not preach the gospel, of a minister-who loves it, and propagates it with as much ardour as the censurer himself. He may not preach the gospel with the same phrases-in precisely the same style of language. Perhaps the censurer loves to dwell entirely on the promises of the gospel-on the sovereignty and freedom of Divine grace on salvation as the unmerited gift of God by faith and not by works :-all this, the man he censures believes and preaches too; but then with the promises of the gospel, he blends the threatnings,—and with the assurance that salvation is of grace and by faith-the importance of obedience, and a holy life as the evidence of saving faith.

His discourses were judicious-he particularly excelled in the adaptation of his subjects, and the selection of his texts, to particular circumstances and occasions. His sermons were never flippant, nor bombastic-but always solid and simple-full of sound divinity, conveyed in language, which, by its copiousness,—its elegance, its fluency,—astonished every auditor. His skill in meeting the several cases of his hearers, has been already noticed. Every age and every rank received their portion from his public instructions: the aged were astonished at his deep experience; the young were charmed with his affectionate manner; and few, very few, were the instances in which the hearers did not depart, each affirming, that there was something in the sermon that exactly suited them.*

* A passage in a sermon recently published by the Rev. Robert Hall, admirably describes this quality of Mr. Spencer's preaching. "Without descending to such a minute specification of circumstances, as shall make our addresses personal, they ought unquestionably to be characteristic ; that the conscience of the audience may feel the hand of the preacher searching it, and every individual know where to class himself. The preacher who aims at doing good will endeavour, above all things, to insulate his hearers, to place each of them apart, and render it impossible for him to escape by losing himself in the crowd. At the day of judgment, the attention excited by the surrounding scene, the strange as. pect of nature, the dissolution of the elements, and the last trump, will have no other effect than to cause the reflections of the sinner to return with a more overwhelming tide on his own character, his sentence, his unchanging destiny; and, amid the innumerable millions who surround him, he will mourn apart. It is thus the Christian minister should endea

As a preacher, Mr. Spencer was remarkable for › Animation; indeed this was so strongly characteristic of him, that almost every other feature might have been resolved into this. Mr. Styles, than whom on man is better able to form and express an opinion of his worth, most correctly observes, "if I were to sum up Mr. Spencer's character in one word, comprehending in it only what is excellent and ennobling to human nature, I should say it was ANIMATION. His intellect was feeling, and his feeling was intelleet. His thoughts breathed, and his words glowed. He said nothing tamely, he did nothing with half a heart." With him, the animation of the pulpit was enkindled by the devotion of the closet. His communion with God was deep and habitual, and this rendered him most feelingly alive to the great truths which he deliveredwhilst the ardent desire which he cherished for the salvation of sinners supplied, with constant fuel, the flame of his zeal. In the pulpit, he appeared to be abstracted from every consideration, but those immediately connected with his subject, and his office. It was this holy fervour, perhaps, which constituted the great charm of his ministry. The simplest observations from his lips were invested, by his manner of expressing them, with an importance which demanded attention. The interest which he felt himself in the momentous topics he discussed, he communicated to his hearers; and it was im

vour to prepare the tribunal of conscience, and turn the eyes of every one of his hearers on himself."-Discourse delivered to the Rev. James Robertson at his ordination, by Robert Hall, A, M.

possible not in some degree to feel, when every one saw how eagerly intent he was upon promoting their eternal welfare.

"I remember," says a friend, "that one evening when we reached Hoxton, in good time for him but too late for me, as he was to preach, the chapel was thronged, and I stood in the passage through which he passed to the pulpit. His delicate frame was too weak to sustain the animation of his mighty spirit. His half-closed mouth, fixed eye, flushed cheek, and panting breast, pained me to the heart as he passed me, and loudly spoke my awful responsibility, possessed of such a friend, and such a ministry. He afterwards told me that he generally was agitated in his way to the pulpit, but that when he reached it he seemed to feel himself at home. I once asked a medical friend, who heard him at Hoxton with me,

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how he heard?' Because I saw

Very uncomfortably. Why? that his preaching is at a physical expense to himself, beyond what you have any idea of. Every part of the service, except his repetition of the Lord's prayer, was at an expense which his frame is incapable of supporting."

As a preacher, he was

Solemn. He never degraded the awful dignity of his station, and his office, by buffoonery and jests, -he was popular-but he never courted popularity, by the practice of any thing that was time-serving, crafty or mean. As an eminent judge once observed, "he did not despise popularity, but he loved-not the popularity which he must followbut the popularity that followed him." Who,