thing in its regular course, as an act of duty. That with this habit were united mental powers of no ordinary kind, must indeed be supposed. But it is important to observe, that these alone could not have been adequate to the combination of so many rare excellencies, or to such undeviating consistency of conduct in the various concerns of life. To the same cause we must also attribute the humility, suavity, and candour, which marked his general deportment. Intent only on doing the thing which is right, no galling superiority was assumed; no bitter invective, no dishonest chicanery, was necessary to support his cause. Consciousness of rectitude, while it gave dignity and confidence to himself, disposed him to moderation and forbearance towards others. It needed no adventitious aid : it felt no weakness: but, trusting to the impression it must eventually make, relied on that for its ulti mate success. But we must turn now from this gratifying part of the subject, to direct our attention to other topics connected with it, of a far different kind. The deed of darkness by which this valuable life has been lost to the community, is of that base and malignant kind which instantly strikes the mind with horror and con sternation. What must we think, then, of him who could not only perpetrate the deed, but, disclaiming all passion or heat of resentment in the act, declare it to have been the cool deliberate purpose of his mind, and vindicate it as an act of retributive justice for inattention to his imaginary wrongs? This is a rare instance, though, perhaps, not altogether unparalleled, of the strange obliquity of which the human mind is susceptible, when it sets aside all religious principle, and will be swayed by no authority but its own. For though religion was on the lips of this prodigy of iniquity, it is evident that it had no influence upon his heart. Probably it was assumed only, for the purpose of giving a kind of sanctity to his crime, or awakening in others a sympathy with his own prostituted feelings. Behold, then, here, the state of one, whom God appears to have given over to a reprobate mind! For, "the Spirit of God will not 66 always strive with man." After being repeatedly grieved and resisted, it leaves the man to himself. Then it is that he becomes, as St. Paul describes him, " full of envy, mur der, deceit, malignity; implacable, unmer"ciful;" and that, "knowing the judgment "of God, that they who do such things are 66 66 worthy of death," he "not only does the same, but has pleasure in those that do "them "." Nothing indeed, in this instance, could equal the atrocity of the crime itself, but the subsequent conduct of the criminal; whom we find acknowledging the offence to be a direct violation of God's law, yet glorying in the deed; hardening himself against all attempts to awaken him to penitence or remorse; visited by no compunctions of conscience; and challenging the justice of the Almighty, even of Him who hath emphatically declared, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay P!" 66 In contemplating this hideous picture, it is impossible not to feel humiliated by the reflection that it pourtrays one who was a fellow-countryman, and who even professed to be a fellow-Christian! The contemplation, however, would be somewhat less painful, if, amidst the general sensation of horror, indignation, and regret, which has been manifested on this occasion, from one end of the kingdom to the other, there had not been some few voices heard among us, expressive, not only of cold-blooded indifference, but even of savage complacency, towards the criminal and the crime! It would indicate a fearful change 。 Rom. i. 29. Rom. xii. 19. indeed in our national character, could we believe that these were the sentiments of any but the most deluded or depraved of an unthinking multitude, or of those who would goad them on to acts of desperation and madness, for the general subversion of society. "He who hateth his brother," says the Apostle, "is a murderer in his heart." How emphatically then might this be said of any who could rejoice in a deed like this! But the unequivocal declarations of the public sentiment, almost universally called forth, will more than suffice to wipe away this stain upon the character of a civilized and religious people. Notwithstanding, therefore, any discouraging symptoms of this kind, were they tenfold more numerous than they have been, let it not be said of us, "that because iniquity 66 abounds, the love of many waxeth cold "." Rather let us consider that necessity is laid upon us for redoubled exertions. "If the "foundations be destroyed, what can the right 66 eous do?" If the very first principles of religion and morals were to be subverted, and men's lives sacrificed for their adherence to them, vain would be any efforts for our national preservation. Then would be realized ¶ 1 John iii. 15. Matth. xxiv. 12. s Psalm xi. 3. the Prophet Micah's description of a totally corrupted people:-" The good man is pe"rished out of the earth: and there is none 66 upright among men: they all lie in wait "for blood: they hunt every man his brother "with a net t." Would to God that the bare possibility of our country ever being reduced to a state like this were generally laid to heart, as a motive for union and cooperation on the basis of religious, as well as political wisdom! The pas sions of evil-minded men would not then be so often kindled and stirred up to deeds of infamy, by the intemperate or inconsiderate effusions of party-spirit, administering perpetual food for discontent and turbulence. The responsibility incurred in this respect, by men of weight and influence in public life, does not appear to be always sufficiently considered, even among persons of honour, and probity, and zeal for the public good. In the heat of political animosity, it is, for the most part, little regarded, till some great convulsion in the state, or some such terrific event as that we have just experienced, discovers the error; and efforts are made (perhaps, too late!) to extinguish the flame that had been kindled, by those who scattered fire t Micah vii. 2. |