single achievement of seventy signatures in one day, is all that my dizzy recollection has been able to keep and to perpetuate.

If, for the expediting of business, we are made free with, even by private individuals, it is not to be wondered at, if charitable bodies should, at all times, look for our subserviency to their schemes and their operations of benevolence. When a patriotic fund, or a Waterloo subscription, blazons in all the splendour of a nation's munificence, and a nation's gratitude, before the public eye, who shall have the hardihood to refuse a single item of the bidden cooperation that is expected from him? Surely such a demand as this is quite irresistible; and, accordingly, from this quarter too, a heavy load of consultations and certificates, with the additional singularity of having to do with the drawing of money, and the keeping of it in safe custody, and the dealing of it out in small discretionary parcels according to the needs and circumstances of the parties;-all, all is placed upon the shoulders of the already jaded and overborne

minister.

That all this is radically wrong and pernicious, no person can deny-and Dr Chalmers merely recommends the substitution of lay for clerical agency. He says rightly and beautifully.

The laymen require no more than a correct view of the importance of the substitution which we now demand from them, and, when that is given, they will come forth, in hundreds, from their hiding places. The ranks of philanthropy will soon fill, and this fine city be put into a glow with generous wishes, and high and liberal devisings for the good of her population. Instead of ministers being brought down to the habit of merchants, merchants will be brought up to tone and habit of ministers. And if, through the ascending scale of charity, some of them should rise so high as to do what was done by the Elders of other days-if, unashamed of the gospel of Christ, they should stand intrepidly forth as the guides and comfort ers of the people-if, not unwilling, and not afraid to vary the labours of the counting-house, with the labours of an affectionate urgency amongst the chambers of the sick, and the afflicted, and the dying, they shall bring back the habit of the olden time, amongst our families-another generation will not pass away, till they have brought back all the piety, and all the kindness of the olden time along with it.

In the latter part of this eloquent composition, Dr Chalmers points out the evil consequences that must result from the accumulation of secular duties on the clergymen of large cities, upon their character as ministers of religion, and also upon the theological literature of Scotland. He lays down that undeniable principle, that the

work of a Christian teacher is enough, by itself, to engross and take possession of the entire powers of any single man; and that if he be daily and hourly called upon to attend to matters, not only separate and distinct from, but absolutely irreconcileable with the discharge of his loftier duties, he must by degrees become indifferent to, and incapable of his own sacred functions, a sorry man of business, and a lukewarm and inefficient servant of God. There is something dignified and noble in the following observations:

"I need say no more about the direct blow which the prevailing system of our towns must, at length, in this way, give to the cause of practical Christianity, in our congregations and parishes. I proceed to another effect, still more palpable, if not more prejudicial, than the former. It will keep back and degrade the theological li

terature of Scotland.

I am now to offer, between the theology of "There is nothing in the contrast which our age and that of another, which is not highly honourable to the present race of clergymen. The truth is, that they have kept their ground so well against the whole of this blasting and degenerating operation, giving full effect to my argument, that I as to render it necessary, for the purpose of should look forward, in perspective, to the next age, and compute the inevitable difference which must obtain between its litera

ture and that of the last generation.

a century, we behold the picture of a church "On looking back to the distance of half adorned by the literature of her clergy. It is of no consequence to the argument, that the whole of this literature was not professional. Part of it was so; and every part of it proved, at least, the fact, that there tion from all that was uncongenial for the was time, and tranquillity, and full proteclabours of the understanding. I cannot but look back with regret, bordering upon envy, to that period in the history of our church, when her ministers companied with the sages of philosophy, and bore away an equal petulancies of Hume, as he sported his unshare of the public veneration-when the guarded hour, among the circles of the enlightened, were met by the pastors of humble Presbyterianism, who, equal in reach and in accomplishment to himself, could repel the force of all his sophistries, and rebuke him into silence when this most subtle and profound of infidels aimed his decisive thrust at the Christian testimony, and a minister of our church, and he, too, the minister of a town, dared all

the hazards of the intellectual warfare,

and bore the palm of superiority away from himIn a word, I look back, as I do upon a seene of departed glory, to that period, when the clergy of our cities could ply the

toils of an unbroken solitude, and send forth the fruits of them, in one rich tide of moral and literary improvement over our land. It is true, that all the labours of that period were not rendered up, in one consecrated offering, to the cause of theology. It is true, that among the names of Wallace, and Henry, and Robertson, and Blair, and M'Knight, and Campbell, some can be singled out, who chose the classic walk, or gave up their talent to the speculations of general philosophy. Yet the history of each individual amongst them, proves that, in these days, there was time for the exercise of talent that these were the days, when he, among the priesthood, who had an exclusive taste for theology, could give the whole force of his mind to its contemplations that these were the days, when a generous enthusiasm for the glories of his profession, met with nothing to stifle or vulgarise it-that these were the days, when the man of prayer, and the man of gospel ministrations, could give himself wholly to these things, and bring forth the evidence of his profiting, either in authorship to all, or in weekly addresses to the people of his own congregation. It is true, that the names which I have now gathered, are all from the field of a lofty and conspicuous literature. Yet I chiefly count upon them, as the tokens of such a leisure, and of such a seclusion, and of such an habitual opportunity, for the exercises of retirement, as would give tenfold effect to the worthiest and most devoted ministers of a former generation

There will be no decay of talent whatever, in respect to the existence of it. The only decay will be in the exercise of talent. It will be that her solitudes have all been violated that her claims have all been unheeded and despised-that her delicacies have all been overborne-above every thing, that her exertions and her capabilities have been grossly misunderstood it not being known how much restraint stifles her-and the employments of ordinary business vulgarise her and distraction impedes the march of her greater enterprizes and the fatigue she incurs by her own exercises, if accumulated by the fatigue of other exercises, which do not belong to her, may at length enervate and exhaust her altogether. Thus it is, that an unlearned public may both admit the existence of the mischief, and lament the evils of it, and yet be utterly blind to the fact, that it is a mischief of their own doing. They lay their own rude estimate on a profession, of the cares and the labours of which they have no experience-and, instead of cheering, do they scowl upon the men who vindicate the privileges of our order. They are perpetually measuring the habits and the conveniencies of literary business, of which they know nothing, by the habits and conveniencies of ordinary business, of which they know something. And thus it is, that instead of the blind leading the blind, the blind, in the first instance, turn upon their leaders-they give the whole weight of their influence and opinion to that cruel process, by which the most enlightened priesthood in the world, if they submit to it, may, by the lapse of one generation more, sink down into a state of contentment with the tamest, and the humblest, and the paltriest attainments. Nor will it at all alleviate, but fearfully embitter, the whole malignity of this system, should its operation be such, that, in a succeeding age, both our priests and our people will sit down in quietness, and "What is it that must cause all resem- in great mutual satisfaction with each other blance of this to disappear from a future ge--the one fired by no ambition for profesneration? Not that their lot will be cast in an age of little men. Not that Nature will send forth a blight over the face of our establishment, and wither up all the graces and talents which, at one time, signalized it. Not that some adverse revolution of the elements will bring along with it some strange desolating influence on the genius and literature of the priesthood. The explanation is nearer at hand, and we need not seek for it among the wilds or the obscurities of mysticism. Nature will just be as liberal as before; and bring forth the strongest and the healthiest specimens of mind, in as great abundance as ever; and will cast abroad no killing influence at all, to stunt any one of its aspiring energies; and will just, if she have free play, be as vigorous with the moral as with the physical productions of a former generation. This change, of which the fact will be unquestionable, however much the cause may elude the public observation, will not be the work of Nature, but of man.

as enabled the Hamilton and Gillies of our own city, to shed a holier influence around them, and have throned, in the remembrance of living men, the Erskine, and Walker, and Black, of our metropolis, who maintained; throughout the whole of their history, the aspect of sacredness, and gave every hour of their existence to its contemplations and its labours.

sional excellence; the other actuated by no demand for it-the one peaceably leaning down to the business of such services as they may be called to bear; the other not seeking, and not caring for higher services.

"Every thing that is said for the evils of such a system, should elevate, in public estimation, all our living clergymen. It came upon them in the way of gradual accumulation; and, at each distinct step, it wore the aspect of a benevolent and kind accommodation to the humbler orders of society. They are not to blame that it has been admitted; and I call upon the public to admire, that they have stood so well its adverse influence on all their professional labours. But there is one principle in human nature, which, if the system be not done away, will, in time, give a most tremendous certainty to all our predictions. It does not bear so hard on the natural indolence of man, to spend his life in bustling and miscellaneous activity, as to spend his life in meditation and prayer. The

1819.]

Dr Chalmers' Economy of Large Towns.

former is positively the easier course of existence. The two habits suit very ill to gether; and, in some individuals, there is an utter incompatibility betwixt them. But should the alternative be presented of adopting the one habit or the other singly, the position is unquestionable, that it were better for the ease, and the health, and the general tone of comfort and cheerfulness, that a man should lend out his person to all the variety of demands for attendance, and of demands for ordinary business, which are brought to bear upon him, than that he should give up his mind to the labours of a strenuous and sustained thoughtfulness. Now, just calculate the force of the temptation to abandon study, and to abandon scholarship, when personal comfort and the public voice, both unite to lure him away from them-when the popular smile would insinuate him into such a path of employment, as, if he once enter, he must bid adieu to all the stern exercises of a contemplative solitude; and the popular frown glares upon that retirement, in which he might consecrate his best powers to the best interests of a sadly misled and miscalculating generation -when the hosannahs of the multitude cheer him on to what may be comparatively termed a life of amusement; and the condemnation, both of unlettered wealth and unlettered poverty, is made to rest upon his name, should he refuse to let down the painful discipline of his mind, by frittering it all away amongst those lighter varieties of management, and of exertion, which, by the practice of our cities, are habitually laid upon him. Such a temptation must come, in time, to be irresistible; and, just in proportion as it is yielded to, must there be a portion of talent withdrawn from the literature of theology. There must be the desertion of all that is fine, and exquisite, and lofty, in its contemplations. There must be a relapse from the science and the industry of a former generation. There must be a decline of theological attainments, and theological authorship. There must be a yearly process of decay and of deterioration, in this branch of our national literature. There must be a descending movement towards the tame, and the feeble, and the common-place. And thus, for the wretched eclat of getting clergy to do, with their hands, what thousands can do as well as they, may our cities come, at length, to barter away the labour of their minds, and give such a blow to theology, that, amongst men of scholarship and general cultivation, it will pass for the most languishing of the sciences.

"And here I cannot but advert to the observation of Hume, who, be his authority in religion what it may, must be admitted to have very high authority in all matters of mere literary experience. He tells us, in the history of his own life, that a great city is the only fit residence for a man of letters; and his assertion is founded on a true dis cernment of our nature. In the country,

23

there may be leisure for the pursuits of the understanding; but there is a want of impulse. The mind is apt to languish in the midst of a wilderness, where, surrounded perhaps by uncongenial spirits, it stagnates and gathers the rust of decay, by its mere distance from sympathy and example, and the animating converse of men who possess a kindred taste, and are actuated by a kindred ambition. Transport the possessor of such a mind to a town, and he there meets with much to arouse him out of all this dormancy. He will find his way to men, whose views and pursuits are in harmony with his own and he will be refreshed for action, by the encouragement of their society-and he will feel himself more linked with the great literary public, by his personal approximation to some of its most distinguished members and communications from the eminent, in all parts of the country, will now pour upon him in greater abundanceand above all, in the improved facilities of authorship, and from his actual position within the limits of a theatre, where his talents are no sooner put forth into exercise, than the fruits of them may be brought out into exhibition—in all this, we say, there is a power and a vivacity of excitement, which may set most actively agoing the whole machinery of his genius, and turn to its right account those faculties which, else, had withered in slothfulness, and, under the bleak influences of an uncheered and unstimulated solitude, might finally have expired.

"This applies, in all its parts, to the literature of theology, and gives us to see how much the cities of our land might do for the advancement of its interests. They might cast a wakeful eye over the face of the country-and single out all the splendour and superiority of talent which they see in our establishment-and cause it to emerge out of its surrounding obscurity-and deliver it from the chill and langour of an uncongenial situation-and transplant it into a kindlier region, where, shielded from all that is adverse to the play or exercise of mind, and encouraged to exertion by an approving and intelligent piety, it may give its undivided labour to things sacred, and have its solitude for meditation on these things, varied only by such spiritual exercises out of doors, as might have for their single object the increase of Christian worth and knowledge amongst the population.

This is what cities might do for Theology. But what is it that they in fact do for it? The two essential elements for literary exertion, are excitement and leisure. The first is ministered in abundance out of all those diversities of taste and understanding which run along the scale of a mighty population. The second element, if we give way much longer to the system which prevails among you-if we lay no check upon your exertions, and make no stand against the variety of your inconsiderate demands upon us-if we resign our own right of judgment

upon our own habits and our own conveniences, and follow the impulse of a public, who, without experience on the matter, can feel no sympathy and have no just calculation about the peculiarities of clerical employment then should we be robbed of this second element altogether. We should lie under the malignity of an Egyptian bondage-bricks are required of us, and we have no straw. The public would like to see all the solidities of argument, and all the graces of persuasion, associated with the cause of sacred literature. But then they would desolate the sanctuaries of literature. They would drag away mind from the em

ployments of literature. They would leave not one moment of time or of tranquillity for the pursuits of literature. They would lities all those energies of the inner man, consume by a thousand preposterous serviwhich might, every one of them, be consecrated with effect, to the advancement of literature. In one word, they would dethrone the guardians of this sacred cause altogether; and, weighing them down with from the natural eminency of their office the burden of other services, they would vulgarise them out of all their taste and all their generous aspirings after literature."

NOTICES OF REPRINTS OF CURIOUS OLD BOOKS,
No V.

The Life and Errors of John Dunton.*

THOUGH at the end of the "Short Memoir of the Author" we observe the initials, J. B. N., yet we have no doubt that we owe this, which is beyond all comparison the most amusing reprint we have been called upon to notice, to the excellent and venerable Mr Nichols, whose genuine love for literary history has already been so well displayed in the productions which have issued from his press. The publisher of the Gentleman's Magazine, and the compiler of the Literary Anecdotes, could not possibly have amused a portion of his old age with any occupation more congenial to his own taste than with the superintendence of this new edition of the Autobiography of the once celebrated, or at least notorious, though now forgotten, John Dunton. Neither, unless we are much mistaken, could he easily have drawn out from the neglected mines of our minor literature, any thing more likely to find favour in the eyes of those readers who are penetrated with some portion of the love of antiquarianism. Nay, we might go much farther than this; for those who enjoy gossip, scandal, slander, quaintness, humour, and extravagant self-conceit,-all will find abundant gratification in their departed bibliopole's delineation of himself, his friends, his enemies,-and above all, in his solemn commemoration of "all the spurns his patient merit took" from the government and the people of

England at the beginning of the last century.

Livery of London could name John The period in which the Dunton among its members, was indeed a very remarkable one; and its history, civil, political, military, ecclesiastic, and even literary, may in general be conceived to be pretty well known. In the midst, however, of all the innumerable treatises which have preserved for us so much minute information concerning all the great personages of that age, from Queen Anne and George I. up to Swift, Addison, and Steele,-it is not to be denied that there still remain many, very many points, in regard to which a common reader is left to complete for himself the unfinished picture that has come down to us.

trouble to peruse the two comely octaThose who take the vos which have now been given to us by Mr Nichols, will perhaps have little difficulty in confessing that a certain part of the vacuum has been supplied by the indefatigable self-love of the institutor of the "Athenian Club," and the author of " the Dublin Scuffle." We would fain hope that the example of this eminent individual may not be altogether thrown away on his successors, our own contemporary bibliopoles; and should have much pleasure could we imagine that our commendations of him and his works might add any additional stimulus to excite some among their number to

The Life and Errors of John Dunton, citizen of London, with the Lives and Characters of more than a thousand contemporary Divines, and other persons of literary eminence; to which are added, Dunton's Conversations in Ireland-Selections from his other genuine Works and a faithful portrait of the author. 2 vols 8vo. Nichols, Son, and Bentley, London. 1818.

**From such beginnings mighty things arise; Se small a star can brighten all the skies.” VOL. VI.