In Mr. Toller, we have a noble instance of the triumph of genuine piety over these early disadvantages. Yet, their share in the formation of his character is very perceptible. The extreme diffidence and modesty which prevented his relating to his nearest friends the early exercises of his mind on religious subjects,' was no doubt connected with the native temperament of his mind; but the habit of reserve on these subjects was, we suspect, fixed by his academic education. It is anticipating the masterly delineation of his character, but we cannot forbear to cite the remark of Mr. Hall on this peculiar feature.

'He possessed, or fancied he possessed, little talent for the ordinary topics of religious conversation; and his extreme aversion to the ostentation of spirituality, rendered him somewhat reluctant to engage in those recitals of Christian experience in which many professors so much delight. There adhered to his natural disposition a delicacy and reserve which rendered it impossible for him to disclose, except in the most confidential intercourse, the secret movements and aspirations of his heart towards the best of Beings. He possessed, notwithstanding this, a high relish for the pleasures of society.'

To a certain extent, we should be far from imputing this reluctance to any defect: the recitals in which many professors delight, a man of real delicacy might well be excused for not engaging in. But when we find his conscious deficiency in the talent of religious conversation, operating to deter him from ministerial visits to his people, except when sent for-in justification of which he was accustomed to plead the apostolic rule, James v. 14.-we cannot but recognise and lament in this trait of his character, the effect of habits and prejudices acquired during his academic career.

After a residence at Daventry of four years, Mr. Toller was appointed to supply a destitute congregation at Kettering, where he preached for the first time, October 1, 1775. His services proved so acceptable that, after repeated visits, he was invited to become their stated minister, and he was accordingly ordained pastor, May 28, 1778.

'Few men,' says his Biographer, have been more indebted for the formation of their character to the fervent piety of their audience. Such was the state of his mind at this period, that, had he been connected with a people of an opposite character, his subsequent history would have exhibited, in all probability, features very dissimilar from those which eventually belonged to it. If, in a lengthened ministerial course, the people are usually formed by their pastor, in the first stage it is the reverse; it is the people who form the minister. Mr. Toller often expressed his gratitude for that merciful providence which united him at so early a period with a people adapted to invigorate

his piety, and confirm his attachment to the vital, fundamental truths of Christianity. The reciprocal influence of a minister and a congregation on each other is so incessant and so powerful, that I would earnestly dissuade an inexperienced youth from connecting himself with a people whose doctrine is erroneous, or whose piety is doubtful, lest he should be tempted to consult his ease by choosing to yield to a current he would find it difficult to resist. To root up error, and reclaim a people from inveterate habits of vice and irreligion, is unquestionably a splendid achievement; but it requires a hardihood of character and decision of principle not often found in young per

sons.'

It was about the year 1795, that Mr. Hall's acquaintance with Mr. Toller commenced. He had then been settled at Kettering about seventeen years; and though not much known out of his immediate neighbourhood, for he travelled little, and seldom mingled in the scenes of public business, he formed at this time the centre of union to a large circle, and was surrounded by friends who vied with each other in paying him demonstrations of respect. The extraordinary attachment of his people to their minister must be ascribed, says Mr. Hall, 'partly to the impression produced by his public services, and partly to the gentleness and amenity of his private manners.'

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It may be possible to find other preachers equally impressive, and other men equally amiable; but such a combination of the qualities calculated to give the ascendant to a public speaker, with those which inspire the tenderness of private friendship, is of rare occurrence.'

Mr. Toller and his Biographer happened to be engaged to preach, about the period referred to, a double lecture at Thrapston, near Kettering; and it was upon this occasion that Mr. Hall was first impressed with his extraordinary talents as a pulpit orator.

Never,' says Mr. H., shall I forget the pleasure and surprise with which I listened to an expository discourse from 1 Pet. ii. 1-3. The richness, the unction, the simple majesty which pervaded his address, produced a sensation which I never felt before: it gave me a new view of the Christian ministry. But the effect, powerful as it was, was not to be compared with that which I experienced a few days after, on hearing him at the half-yearly association at Bedford. The text which he selected was peculiarly solemn and impressive: his discourse was founded on 2 Peter i. 12—16. “ Yea, I think it meet, as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance: knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath shewed me," &c. The effect of this discourse on the audience, was such as I have never witnessed before or since. It was undoubtedly very much aided by the peculiar circumstances of the speaker, who was judged to be far ad

vanced in a decline, and who seemed to speak under a strong impres sion of its being the last time he should address his brethren on such an occasion. The aspect of the preacher, pale, emaciated, standing apparently on the verge of eternity, the simplicity and majesty of his sentiments, the sepulchral solemnity of a voice which seemed to issue from the shades, combined with the intrinsic dignity of the subject, perfectly quelled the audience with tenderness and terror, and produced such a scene of audible weeping as was perhaps never surpassed. All other emotions were absorbed in devotional feeling: it seemed to us as though we were permitted for a short space to look into eternity, and every sublunary object vanished before "the powers of the world to come. 99 Yet, there was no considerable exertion, no vehemence displayed by the speaker, no splendid imagery, no magnificent description: it was the simple domination of truth, of truth indeed of infinite moment, borne in upon the heart by a mind intensely alive to its reality and grandeur. Criticism was disarmed; the hearer felt himself elevated to a region which it could not penetrate; all was powerless submission to the master-spirit of the scene. It will always be considered by those who witnessed it, as affording as high a specimen as can be easily conceived, of the power of a preacher over his audience, the habitual, or even frequent recurrence of which would create an epoch in the religious history of the world.'

It will immediately occur to our readers, however, that if the habitual ascendancy of an individual preacher over his audience, not, indeed, uniformly to the full extent here described, of quelling them with tenderness, but, according to the character of the subject, commanding their most powerful emotions,-holding them spell-bound, while, on the part of the speaker, there has appeared no conscious effort, and then insensibly drawing forth the feelings, and concentrating the interest more and more, as the subject has seemed to break in upon the mind for the first time in its appropriate light-till attention has been wrought up to that pitch at which the cessation of the preacher's voice has seemed to leave a void and a blank;-if a phenomenon of this kind could of itself create an epoch in the history of the religious world, the present age would have been sufficiently marked by the still more powerful oratory of Mr. Toller's Biographer.

The meeting at Bedford before which this sermon was preached, was held in April, 1795. Mr. Toller, whose health had long been impaired, was induced at this time to pay a visit to his friends at Cambridge, in the hope of receiving benefit from the change of scene; and so salutary was the effect upon his spirits, of the attentions he received from all quarters, that his health improved, and from that time the symptoms of disease gradually subsided. His celebrity as a preacher now became diffused through a much wider circle

⚫ than before, and he began universally to be esteemed one of the most distinguished ministers of the age.' In the year 1799, he received an invitation to supply the congregation assembling in Carter lane, London, one part of the Sunday, with a salary considerably beyond what he then enjoyed. To this application he gave a decided negative. In the beginning of the following year, the congregation at Clapham gave him a similar invitation, which he also declined. The two congregations then united their invitations, offering a large salary on condition of his undertaking a single service at each place: this joint application he also refused. At the same time he assured the people of Kettering, who naturally became alarmed at these repeated attempts to remove their minister, that, if ⚫ he found his services still acceptable, no pecuniary advantages should ever tempt him to relinquish his charge.' In this final determination, the sterling integrity of Mr. Toller, as well as the sincerity and steadiness of his attachments, was honourably conspicuous; and he set a noble example of disinterestedness to his brethren. On this occasion, the church itself over which he presided, took no distinct part, which Mr. Hall considers as imputable to its not occupying that rank in the auditory to which it was entitled. The remarks which this circumstance calls forth, are extremely important; we have perused them with the highest satisfaction. Congregations,' says Mr. Hall, are the creatures of circumstances, churches ⚫ the institution of God.' By losing sight of this scriptural distinction, the door is opened to all sorts of anomalous proceedings. We have more than once borne our testimony against the modern practice which is here so pointedly reprobated, of committing the management of the most weighty matters to a body of subscribers, in preference to the members' of the church. All the specious arguments which can be urged in support or extenuation of this practice, presuppose a state of things which our pious forefathers never contemplated, and which is at once unnatural and culpable. If the church is really so insignificant in numbers and in weight, compared with the body of the congregation, as to be incapable of exercising its most undoubted functions, some very great fault must be chargeable either on its constitution, on the spirit of its members, or on the manner in which the pastor discharges his ministerial duty. We cannot conceive of a minister's patiently enduring the continuance of such a state of things. The prevalence which it denotes in the congregation, of a vague, lax, and indeterminate profession of religion, together with the implied neglect of one of the most express injunctions of the Saviour, must be a source of perpetual uneasi

ness, as rendering almost equivocal the success of his labours. Nor is a church thus circumstanced likely to afford, in the growing humility, fervour, and spirituality of its members, a compensation to his feelings. On the contrary, as the hope of increase is abandoned, the desire to conciliate those who are without, naturally becomes weaker, and a narrow, exclusive spirit will be engendered by the monopoly of spiritual privileges, which will infallibly betray itself in a forbidding or unamiable demeanour. Such persons stand in the disadvantageous predicament of being separated, not merely from the world-for the line of demarcation between the two opposed kingdoms is, under such circumstances, scarcely distinguishable-but from the great bulk of that portion of religious society with which they are in immediate contact. And although, if there be nothing in their practice or regulations to repel the truly pious, the sin lies at the door of those who decline their communion, they are themselves in no small measure the sufferers. For it is next to impossible to maintain a due sense of the value of the privileges they peculiarly enjoy, and of the importance of the duties by a regard to which they are thus distinguished from the mass of their fellow-worshippers, without its being mixed with the self-complacency and jealousy which prompt the feeling of "Stand back, I am holier than thou." If the members of the church be almost entirely found among the poorer persons, the evil is likely to be aggravated. Yet, the Church has not forfeited its rights; nor is the remedy which expediency would supply, by rendering them nugatory, either safe or legitimate.

Many of those who compose the auditory, in distinction from the church, may possess genuine piety; but,' adds Mr. Hall, while they persist in declining to make a public profession of Christ, it is scarcely possible for them to give proof of it: the greater part, it is no breach of candour to suppose, are men of the world; and surely, it requires little penetration to perceive the danger which religion must sustain by transferring the management of its concerns from persons decidedly religious, to those whose pretensions to interfere are founded solely on pecuniary considerations. The presumptuous intermeddling of worldly, unsanctified spirits with ecclesiastical concerns, has been the source of almost every error in doctrine, and enormity in practice, that has deformed the profession of Christianity from the time of Constantine to the present day; nor is Dissent of much importance except as far as it affords an antidote to this evil. The system which confounds the distinction between the church and the congregation, has long since been carried to perfection in the Presbyterian denomi nation; and we all know what preceded and what has followed that innovation,―the decay of piety, the destruction of discipline, a most