Tallents, Edw. Lawrence, Nathaniel Vincent, James Owen, Rich. Steele. May 9, 1687."

Mr. Henry was settled in the ministry, first at Chester; and afterwards was removed to Hackney near London, where he lived greatly esteemed and beloved, till his decease in 1714, at the age of 52 years.

In reading the history of both of these men, a brief sketch of which we have now given, one circumstance strikes the mind strongly; it is, their energy-their devotedness-their usefulness. The amount of labor and service, which they performed for the church of Christ and mankind at large-for present and for distant generations, seems almost incredible. It was, at least, so great, that he who reads their lives attentively, will find his thoughts drawn to no one topic of reflection more forcibly, than to that which relates to the cause or causes of their great efficiency and usefulness in the service of God and of mankind. He will feel, as he reads, that there was,-that there must have been,-some powerful spring to such unwearied, effective, abounding labors. In evidence that their labors were abundant, effective, and untiring, it will be sufficient to observe, that Cotton Mather, during his ministry of forty-two years, in the largest town in New-England, found time to write and publish three hundred and eightythree books, according to a printed catalogue of his works appended to his Life. No year of his ministry, even from the very first after his ordination, was suffered to pass away, without .his producing something for the press during that year; and this too, in addition to all his other multiplied duties and avocations. The list of his printed works, for the last year only of his life, comprises thirteen, besides two more which he had prepared for the press, and which were published after his death.

Matthew Henry, although his labors on earth were terminated. by death, at the age of fifty-two years, had nearly completed his great work, the Exposition of the Old and New Testaments; had preached "in season and out of season," often (says his biographer) seven times in the week; had written and caused to be printed about forty books of different kinds; and had had the care, to no inconsiderable extent, and especially during the latter years of his life, of all the churches in his own religious connection, within the compass of thirty miles around London. The last edition of his works, published in 1811, by the Rev. George Burder and Joseph Hughes, A. M. is in seven volumes quarto. From this "corrected" edition of his works, it may not be amiss here to state, the Exposition, published not long since in England, is a reprint; and from this, the edition of that valuable work just now republished in this country, is understood to be taken.

Now it is an inquiry of deep interest, whence did these men derive their extraordinary efficiency and usefulness? Something is doubtless to be ascribed to superior mental endowments. But, all proper allowance being made for the vigor of their minds, the grand secret of their efficiency and usefulness consisted, we apprehend, in their spirit of piety-in their singular devotedness to their work. They lived for God. They lived for eternity. And hence, if we may be allowed the expression, they lived long in a short time, and accomplished much, where others, not governed by their peculiar spirit, would have accomplished but little; because they lived under the influence of motives to activity and energy of conduct, of most constraining efficacy. Two extracts, one from each of the Lives before us, will afford some illustration of the truth and pertinence of this remark. The first extract is from the Life of Mather :

He found that he could, every morning, redeem the time while he was dressing himself, by taking his grand question into consideration, WHAT GOOD MAY I DO? Accordingly the week was divided by him, into as many subjects of consideration, as there are days in the week. His subject for the sabbath morning was, What good may I do as pastor of a church, and for the benefit of the people under my charge? His subject for Monday morning was, What shall I do in my family and for the good of it? For Tuesday morning, What shall I do for my relatives abroad, or, for my personal enemies, when he knew that he had any? For Wednesday morning, What shall I do for the churches of the Lord, and for the more general interests of religion in the world? For Thursday morning, What good may I do in the several societies, charitable, moral, or other institutions, to which I am related? For Friday morning, What special subjects of affliction, and objects of compassion, can I take under my particular care, and what can I do for them? His question for Saturday morning was, What more have I to do for the interest of God in my own heart and life?

Thus for every day in the week, there was a particular class of duties marked out; and the foregoing questions furnished him with a sort of index, or directory, to the specific class of duties for each successive day.

The other extract is from the life of Mr. Henry. His biographer says:

Like his Divine Master, he often rose a great while before day. He was commonly in his study at five and sometimes at four o'clock. There he remained till seven or eight. After family worship, and some slight refreshment, he returned till noon, and oftentimes again after dinner till four in the afternoon. He then visited the sick, or his friends, and attended to other business. In the evening, after his family were dismissed, and before he yielded himself to sleep, he again retired to his study. Nothing, continues his biographer, created him more uneasiness than needless intrusions. Whether these inroads upon his time arose out of mistaken politeness, or the influence of inconsiderate friendship, they invariably extorted from him lamentations and self-reproach, both pungent and reiterated. In his

diary he often complains of the precious hours lost in the company of those he loved. He often laments that friends were the thieves of time. And, when noticing even gratifying intercourse, with some of his brethren, and with others whom he highly esteemed, he says on one occasion, I would not for any thing live such a life for a few days together-when I lose time at home, I wish I was abroad preaching. When time abroad is not filled up as it should be, I wish myself at home studying. God by his grace help me to fill up time-to be busy while working time lasts.

In this spirit of carefully improving time, and of accomplishing what could be accomplished during man's short stay on earth, Cotton Mather had placed over the door of his study this brief caution to all who were admitted to see him there, Be short. Yet few men have understood, or appreciated, or exemplified, better than these men, the law of christian kindness and courtesy, or been better fitted to enjoy the society and conversation of their friends.

We now wish, with the foregoing examples before us,—and we have brought these examples forward and placed them on our pages principally for that purpose,-to draw the attention of our readers to some thoughts, on the influence of a spirit of evangelical piety upon the intellectual energies of the mind; and consequently upon the amount of effective, well directed, and well sustained effort which may thus be secured to the cause of human happiness, as compared with that which is the result of other

causes.

1. Christianity presents to the mind objects of unrivaled grandeur and sublimity; objects, therefore, which as seen, under the influence of a renewed, admiring, adoring heart, are fitted to awaken the mind to its utmost activity, and to enlarge and dilate its powers to their utmost grasp. These objects are, a God-a Savior-a law, whose requisitions reach to the inmost soul. Sin against a God of infinite majesty and power-expiation for sinpardon, peace, and reconciliation-death, judgment-heaven, hell -the songs and glories of the redeemed; the worm that dies not and the wailings that will not cease. These surely are things, which, as contemplated by a pious spirit, are fitted to excite, to interest, to call into exercise all the faculties of the soul, and to give to them too the very best direction possible. Let these things be but duly realized, and where is the class of objects possessing any thing like the same adaptation to awaken and expand and fill the whole soul? There are objects in nature, which, apart from all the elevating influences of christianity, have much of the grand and the sublime in them, and which cannot be contemplated by a cultivated and refined mind, without strong emotions. Who can go out at evening, and direct his eye to the starry firmament, and survey intelligently that scene of glory, without experiencing its power

over him; its power to excite; its power to interest; its power to expand and elevate the mind; and to make it feel the littleness of the objects of its ordinary contemplations. But, only add the influences of piety-only let this scene of glory be associated in the mind with the idea, the loved idea, of its Great Author-let all these glories of the firmament, be viewed as the work of His almighty hand, and be made the occasion of carrying the thoughts up to Him, "who spake and it was done, who commanded and it stood fast"-and how different a result takes place in the mind? how greatly is the power of this spectacle over the mind augmented? Then it is, that the beautiful poetic fiction of Pagan astronomy, and in a far higher and better sense than paganism ever intended, seems to be realized. Then it is, that the scene before us seems almost to be endued with a principle of life and intelligence, and we can listen to the music of the spheres,' almost without any mental illusion, and hear them,

"Forever singing as they shine,

The Hand that made us is divine."

Yes it is the Hand that made them which they most readily suggest to the christian spirit: and it is the Hand that made them, which, as thus suggested to the christian spirit, gives them their peculiar power over the soul.

Now whatever tends to excite, and expand, and elevate the mind, tends also to increase its activity and vigor, and to give to it greater practical power and efficiency; so that, if its energies are rightly directed, it will accomplish more, and as the case may be, far more, than it otherwise would, in the cause of human happiness, in the salvation of a lost world. This is one way, we can conceive, in which the influence of evangelical piety upon the intellectual energies of the human mind, is apparent, and is truly happy.

2. The objects which christianity presents to the minds and hearts of her disciples, are, above all others, important objects. They are things which do not merely address themselves to the taste and imaginations of men. They are not only great and sublime, beyond all other things of which we have any knowledge; but they are also invested with a supreme and paramount importance, beyond all things else. And, as such, they address themselves to the sober reason, and judgment, and interest, of mankind. They make their appeal to the understanding, and the conscience, and the heart, as no other objects do. And the more they are contemplated, in faith and love, the more obvious their importance becomes, and the greater and the more commanding, continually. Their influence upon the mind, we repeat, is not merely the influence of objects, which address the

taste and the imagination. It is not merely the effect of the grand, the majestic, the sublime, and the beautiful. It comes nearer home; it is more comprehensive; it touches all the susceptibilities of the human bosom. It is the effect which the jeopardy of the dying, perishing sinner produces; it is the influence which comes from hopes of forgiveness and of heaven, as experienced in the dying, perishing sinner's heart.

There is indeed a charm, and we may add, a peculiar charm, to the christian, in many of the scenes and objects of nature. Their power he can feel, even more intensely than other men. They elevate his conceptions, they interest his feelings, as they ordinarily do not, in an equal degree, those of other men. To him, certainly not less than to others, the voice of the ocean, when its proud waves are lifted up and come rolling from afar, is full of majesty. To him, the cataract, descending in its strength, with its deafening and eternal roar, is certainly not less an object of interest, because he can connect with it associations of religion. To him the thunder, lifting up its voice on high; and the lightning blazing across the dark bosom of the storm; and the bow of promise, like hope on the brow of sorrow, bending its broad bright arch from the earth up into the heavens, and looking forth from the retiring clouds, pleasantly through but transiently upon the face of the returning orb of day-these, and a thousand other things in nature, are to him, objects of no less interest at least, than to other men. They are even objects of far greater interest; they all refer him, as they do not necessarily refer other men, to the Infinite Intelligence, the Infinite Power, the Infinite Majesty, from which they were derived, and of which they are but feeble manifestations. They lead him up to nature's God, where the infidel and the worldling will not accompany him.

But, in addition to the interest thus created, there is a still higher interest felt by the good man, in view of the great subjects of the christian faith, on account of their unrivaled importance. That such is their importance we need not stop to prove. Standing connected as these subjects do, with the eternal peace and welfare of mankind, their importance must be all that it appears to be to any mind; however deeply that mind may have been imbued with christian knowledge and the spirit of the gospel, and however wide its comprehension of things. Now, viewing these subjects in the simple light of their own intrinsic importance, what an impression, deep, strong, and salutary, are they calculated to make, upon the mind of one who truly believes them, with the faith "which is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen!" It is idle to say, that there are any other known objects, which can come home to the breast of man with such a commanding power, which can so deeply, and strongly, and permaVOL. II.

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