sermons ran like wild-fire through the country, were the darlings of wateringplaces, were laid in the windows of inns, and were to be met with in all places of public resort." The sale of the book ran almost equal race for a whole year with Scott's "Tales of my Grandfather," which had a month's start in the date of publication. It was issued on the 28th January, and 6,000 copies were disposed of in ten weeks. Nine editions were called for, and nearly 20,000 put in circulation within a twelvemonth.

The transfer of Dr. Chalmers to the midst of a dense city population presented an entirely new field for the active display of his energies, and from this time a new element enters into his public career. We have hitherto seen him great in the pulpit and at the desk, uttering glowing words with lip and pen. We have now to watch him performing the different and arduous task of administering the ecclesiastical affairs, and especially the pauper management of an extensive urban parish. In his evidence before the House of Commons, in 1830, he says: "My great inducement to the acceptance of the parish of St. John's was, my hope, thereby, to obtain a separate and independent management of the poor, which I felt it extremely difficult to obtain in my former parish, from the way in which we were dovetailed and implicated with a number of distinct bodies." Dr. Chalmers strenuously opposed the policy of a Poor Law, and contended that the indigence of a parish should be provided for by voluntary contributions at the church doors. This plan he proposed to adopt in St. John's parish, with a population of 10,000, the cost of whose pauperism amounted to £1,400 annually. His experiment was almost universally regarded as chimerical; but every facility was afforded him for carrying it out, as he expressed very sanguine expectations of the result, and severely censured the existing system of pauper management. To detail the operations of the plan, and its striking and instructive results during the period of three years and nine months that Dr. Chalmers conducted the experiment, would encroach too much upon our space. The general working of the scheme may be inferred from the fact, that when nearly four years had elapsed, after defraying the

expenses of all they had originally undertaken, and assuming an additional and voluntary annual burden of £90, the session of St. John had £900 of surplus, of which £500 had been appropriated to the perpetual endowment of one of the parochial schools. At the same time, it must be confessed that this signal success might be attributed very justly to the extraordinary liberality called forth by Dr. Chalmers' ministrations. And this appeared to be the judgment of the public, who remained unconvinced of the general feasibility of the plan, though it had succeeded in the hands of a clergyman of such powerful eloquence and unbounded energy and influence as Dr. Chalmers. The system survived, indeed, a considerable time after his removal from Glasgow, and it was not until after thirteen years' experience that it was finally relinquished.

During the year 1819 and 1820, destitution and discontent prevailed to a lamentable extent in the city of Glasgow. In August of the former year, a survey exhibited within a radius of five miles, 5,256 unemployed looms. Painfully affected by this state of things, Dr. Chalmers, in the pages of the "Edinburgh Review," instituted an elaborate inquiry into the causes and remedies of the evils under which the manufacturing population suffered. He also entered largely into this subject in his correspondence at this period. He did not scruple to express his regret that the populace were overawed by the large military force in town, and contended that "it were greatly more desirable to sweeten the spirits of the disaffected, than to subdue them," and expressed his confident conviction that the only effectual remedy was the repeal of the Corn Bill, "I have ever been in the habit of disliking the interference of the Legislature in matters of trade, saving for the purpose of a revenue. The interference in question is, perhaps, of all others, the one by which Government has incurred the greatest waste of popularity, with the least return of advantage to the country; nor could they take a readier step, than by recalling this measure, to soothe the manufacturing districts of the country." With much earnestness, he deprecated at this crisis the extension to Scotland of the English system of poor management, maintaining his hos

tility to the maintenance of the poor by assessments with a fixity of purpose which indicates the depth an sincerity 1 of his convictions on this point.

Dr. Chalmers' ministrations in Glasgow were closed by a proposal made to him from St. Andrew's, to fill the vacant chair of Moral Philosophy in that university. He was unanimously elected on the 23d January, 1823, and took his farewell of his congregation at St. John's amid the most painful excitement. To his own feelings on this occasion of severing his pastoral relations, he alludes in an address delivered at a meeting of his agency, in February, 1823. After referring briefly to the subject of the poor-relief, and excusing himself from any more lengthened reference to it, he continued: "At present, I confess, I have no heart for it. This theme is, for the present, dispossessed by one that is greatly nearer and more interesting. The pauperism of England, for the time being, is not the matter in hand; and you will indulge me if, even in the treatment of that matter, there shall be a want of that vigour or distinctness which ought to characterise every intellectual exposition. There are seasons of turbulence in which, like the vessel in a storm, the mind is driven from all her purposed bearings, and lies at the mercy of a thousand fluctuations; there are moral hurricanes, throughout the violence of which all pilotage is abandoned, and there is nothing for it but to lie in helpless and hopeless endurance till the tempest shall be blown over, till the effervescence shall in some measure be wrought off and subsided, and those powers which stood off in passive abeyance shall again resume their wonted command, and take the same collected survey as before of those signs that are around it, and the prospects which lie before it. I wished to have convened you sooner, gentlemen; but, positively, I could not. To withstand the heavy and the altered countenances of my best friends, was greatly too much for me. Not that I have been led to construe it into any feeling of hostility on your part. I flatter myself with a better interpretation; and I am still confident, if not of your approbation, at least of your regard; and I know experimentally what the general complexion of every such separation is, and I remember well the cold and

withered aspect that sat on a muchloved parish, when all its kind and cherished intimacies I resolved to abandon, at the voice of a call from an unknown land. A few months wrought out, not, perhaps, a reconciliation of feeling, but what was of more importance, a reconciliation of principle. The conscientious of my former neighbourhood now admit that I was right. From you, on the present occasion, I cannot expect any such admission. I have done nothing which at all entitles me to require it at your hands; I have not yet made out my claim to such an acknowledgment. This is the season of my endurance, under which I must put up with the many adverse judgments of men, and lay my account with the censure and condemnation of many of my fellows. It is only by the history of my future years that I can work out a satisfactory vindication; and I do confess that, next to the force of that primary obligation under which I lie to do all and to suffer all in the service of my Master in heaven, there is a human or an earthly force that powerfully urges me on to vindicate the Christianity of my present movement."

It was, doubtless, a conscientious step; but, although his pre-eminent adaptation to the pulpit, and his unbounded popularity as a preacher, had not weakened his early predilection for academic pursuits, it was a painful severance of many endearing ties to leave the parish of St. John's. He devoted the last relics of available time to its interests. The separation was equally felt by pastor and people; and when the time came for the farewell discourse, so tremendous was the rush of the populace to gain access to the church, that a party of the 83d Regiment had hastily to be summoned from the barracks, to erect a barrier of bayonets against the pressure of the crowd. In a church capable of accommodating 1,700 persons, nearly double that number was packed; and when, at the close of a sermon whose lofty eloquence and profound effect we will not attempt to describe, the congregation sought to disperse, it took forty minutes for the edifice to empty itself of the crowded mass.

The introductory lecture at St. Andrew's was delivered on Monday, the 17th November.

The first four months of his resi

dence at St. Andrew's were necessarily devoted to incessant literary labour. Except in his rich mental resources, he was wholly unprepared for the duties of a professor's chair. When he started in November, he had only sufficient lectures to last him for a week or two. But this close application from day to day, in order to keep his manuscript, if possible, in advance of his public exercises, which would have wearied and disgusted many men, had for him all the zest and charm of a pleasing excitement. He writes in March: "I shall be lecturing for six weeks yet, and am very near from hand to mouth with my preparations. I have the prospect of winning the course, though it will be by no more than the length of half-a-neck." Prepared under such circumstances, his lectures must have glided from his pen almost as freely and rapidly as they might have fallen, in the shape of extemporary effusions, from his lips. He had not time to re-write, to elaborate, to polish off; and in the form in which they were thus hastily written, they have for the most part-almost without correction-been given to the world. They seem to us, as we bend in rapture over their pages of lofty eloquence, to be the crude and rapid productions of a man who wrote to meet the imperious call of daily duty. What an impres sion do we receive, from their perusal, of the well-stored mind, the brilliant fancy, the exquisite taste, the facile pen, of the great divine!

There was much of similarity in the circumstances under which Dr. Chalmers and Dr. Thomas Brown commenced their career as professors of moral philosophy-the one at St. Andrew's, and the other at Edinburgh. They were equally unprepared, except in their profound acquaintance with the great subject they had to teach. Brown's pen had to labour hard to keep pace with the demands made upon it, and few of his lectures were written till far in the night preceding their delivery. Both these great men, under the excitement of the occasion, and possessing a rare facility of rapid composition, threw off writings scarcely admitting of emendation, and marked by a singular combination of keen, original analysis, and fascinating eloquence. But Chalmers never en

At

croached upon the night-hours. early morning he braced himself to his task, and steadily pursuing it during such hours as were available throughout the day, enjoyed the luxury of relaxation in the bosom of his family, and of healthful rest, when the other was chained to his midnight task. He thus describes his day: "I get up at six o'clock; have a morning diet of study before breakfast; then a forenoon diet between one and three; and my last is between tea and supper. I walk before dinner."

Dr. Chalmers was as popular in the chair at St. Andrew's as he had been in the pulpit at Glasgow. During the first week he wrote to his wife: "I am quite over-crowded, and they seem to think that another and larger room will be indispensable." His reputation for eloquence at once insured him a large audience, and, at the same time, presented a strong temptation occa sionally to forget the claims of the young unpractised students, who sat on the benches before him, for the sake of gratifying the numerous visitors who sat by their side, and amongst whom several of his brother professors might frequently be recognised. Whether Dr. Chalmers ever yielded to this temptation, we cannot say; that he was alive to its dangers is certain. Alluding at the very commencement of his course to the presence of visitors, he prepared them for a probable disappointment, by explaining the different conditions favourable to scholarship and spectatorship, and added this charming illustration: "In this respect, I can see no difference between the teaching of moral philosophy and the teaching of music. The lovers or the proficients of this noble art resort for their kindred gratification to the performances of a concert-room, but none, so far as I can understand, to the performances of a school; the ear that would be delighted with the flowing succession, with the lofty and unimpeded flight, with the free and the full out-goings of melody in the one, would be annoyed, I should imagine, beyond all sufferance by the stops and the trials, and the tuning of instruments, and the whole tribe of hideous discordances that go to make a very Babel of the other."

In the midst of the congenial pursuits thus entered upon, we shall for

the present leave Dr. Chalmers, and resume our notice of his life in our next number.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK. EVEN by those who regard him as the exponent of an obsolete policy, the champion of a defeated and hopeless party,-George Bentinck will ever be held in esteem as an earnest, honest man, true to his convictions, however mistaken; and constant to his purposes amid every discouragement. That he was animated by the spark of genius, or endowed with the rare qualities that make a great statesman, cannot be said; and his friends do ill to his memory to ask his trial by so lofty a standard. But he was undoubtedly an honourable man, and an able man,one who held his opinions firmly, and made energetic efforts to give effect to them; and, in an age when these elements of character are all too scarce, history must not pass by such an one unnoticed.

Until the debates incident upon Sir Robert Peel's proposal to repeal the Corn-laws, in the session of '46, he was almost unknown in the political world. In early life he had been the private secretary of Mr. Canning, who married a sister of the Duchess of Portland; but, with the death of that eminent statesman, his taste for public business appears to have passed away, and the native energy of his character became engrossed in other pursuits. He was passionately fond of the sports of the field, and entered with ardour into the pleasures and excitement of the turf, which he pursued on a scale that has seldom been equalled. Retaining his seat for King's Lynn,-a small borough in the representation of which he had succeeded his uncle,-Lord George was a very irregular attendant in the House of Commons, and never took any important part in its proceedings, with the exception of giving his vote for the support of his party. It is related that he often appeared for this purpose at a late hour of the night,-the scarlet costume of the field imperfectly concealed by a white over-coat. His leading friends and associates were chosen from among the followers of similar sports, and every hunting member of St. Stephen's viewed him with peculiar interest and regard. In connection with

this period of the life of Lord George Bentinck, it must be recorded to his honour, that he made great efforts to introduce a high and honourable tone of feeling into sporting circles, and resolutely set himself against a class of persons and practices which have brought "the turf" into much disrepute. When circumstances led him to devote himself to an arduous Parliamentary career, and take a conspicuous and responsible part in a series of exciting debates, one of his first steps was to part with his valuable stud, which he sold hastily and at a nominal price, in order at once and for ever to disconnect himself with associations that might be deemed incompatible with more serious pursuits. Although it involved great sacrifice, it was a judicious act. The antecedents of public men are remembered with sufficient vividness by their enemies and rivals; and, after the old habits of Lord George had been wholly laid aside, they continued to furnish materials for small jokes to the writings of the day. Even in the House of Commons, ungenerous reference was sometimes made to the associations of his past life. During the celebrated colonial debate in 1848, when Ministers were charged with suppressing an important despatch from the Governor of Jamaica, Mr. Hawes, the Under-Secretary of State for the Colonies, seized the opportunity of making a severe personal attack on Lord George Bentinck. He said: "The frauds and tricks imputed to the noble lord were not the faults and characteristics of men high in public office in this country; they were the characteristics of the men who were engaged in the pursuits which Lord George Bentinck had himself followed for so many years.” The insinuation elicited a burst of disapprobation from all parts of the House; and though the Minister endeavoured to explain his meaning so as to divest it of all offence, it was several minutes before the general agitation had subsided.

At the election of 1841, a large majority of Protectionists were sent to Parliament to support Sir Robert Peel's Ministry against a threatened alteration in the Corn-laws. The views of the great Conservative leader, however, gradually underwent a change; and when, in the year 1845, a famine impended in Ireland, owing to the failure of the potato crop, instead of

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resorting to any of the minor expedients of relief which some of his party suggested, he proposed at once to throw open the ports, and to submit a bill to Parliament, providing for the total repeal of the Corn-laws at the termination of three years.

The defection of Sir Robert Peel from the cause of Protection, gave great chagrin to a large number of country gentlemen, representatives of agricul tural constituencies. But all the men of note of the old Conservative party, of official experience and power, and practice in debate, followed the Minister; many of them convinced by his reasonings of the wisdom of his new policy, and many were, perhaps, reluctant to sever the party ties which had long bound them to their illustrious leader. Those who remained steadfast to their early creed were, for the most part, obscure men, and entirely destitute of the advantages of concert and discipline. With sullen and discontented looks, they listened to the explanations of Sir Robert, as he developed his plans on the night of the memorable 27th of January.

But, recovering from their first consternation, the country party-as they now designated themselves-took advantage of the brief respite allowed them before the measure came on for discussion, to try to organise a systematic opposition to the Free-trade policy of the Government.

At a

meeting of the Metropolitan Society, presided over by the Duke of Richmond, Lord George Bentinck attended, and took a modest but animated part in the proceedings of the day. He contended that the country would rally round the old Conservative party if it could be shown that the great bulk of them were true to their faith, and urged the importance of sustaining the debate with their utmost powers; bringing forward, if it were necessary, new men to prevent their cause being overborne by the leading and habitual speakers, with the twofold object of having their principles duly represented, and of so protracting the final decision as to give an opportunity to the constituencies to perseverance in filling up several vacancies that were expected to take place.

The speaker, who enforced these views with great earnestness and ability, was generally looked to as the

man most fitted to take the lead in the course he recommended; and his diligence in mastering the details of the subject which now engrossed his mind was intense. Diffidence in his own powers as a speaker, however, led him at first to propose a singular use of the abundant materials and illus trations he had collected. He requested the assistance of a friend, now elevated to the bench, to induce some eminent lawyer to enter the House of Commons and avail himself of the voluminous suggestions he had carefully committed to writing. It was not until the indisposition of Parliament to listen to a mere lawyer speaking from his brief was forcibly insisted on, and he was earnestly counselled to make a personal effort, that Lord George was prevailed on to abandon his project, and contend with his constitutional inaptitude to the task of an orator. How he acquitted himself will be seen in the sequel.

The great debate commenced on the 9th of February, and it was towards its close, which the Protectionists had succeeded in delaying for several nights, that Lord George was, long past midnight, to make what may justly be considered his maiden speech. In the judgment of most, the subject had been already exhausted; the attention of the House was wearied, and a division impatiently looked for. The speaker himself was suffering from physical weakness; he had scarcely broken fast during the day; and he was excited by the novelty and responsibility of his position.

Appealing to the indulgence of his audience on the ground that, though sitting for eight Parliaments, he had never once trespassed on their time on any subject of great debate, he addressed himself without further preface to the merits of the question, and for fully two hours continued to display a varied and comprehensive knowledge of his theme, amid the surprised but sustained attention of the House. Perceiving at length some symptoms of weariness at his minute statistical details, he checked the expressions of impatience by saying with dignity, "I trust the House will recollect I am fighting the battles of a party whose leaders have deserted them; and though I cannot wield my weapons with the skill of the right honourable