"The best illustration of unity in discourse," writes one of his former pupils, "which I had then heard, was casually thrown out by him in his nice analysis of the train of thought in a Psalm. In a similar connection, a passing hint would gather up the legitimate characteristics of lyric poetry. His comparison of the Hebrew, the Homeric, and the Virgilian descriptions of a storm, gave us exemplifications of the highest order of criticism. These hints of his, and the like, were unobtrusively dropped, and easily overlooked; but there were not a few who remembered them with interest, and who felt greatly indebted to him for the broad and elevated scholarship to which he pointed the way. In this manner he did much to form their literary taste, enlarge their circle of thought, and liberalize their mode of thinking; and all this was accomplished, not by digression, but in the pursuit of his appropriate work." Vol. i. pp. 169, 170.

He was, indeed, a model of a Christian scholar, with the noblest spirit, with purposes broad, comprehensive, and elevated, with sympathies wide and various, of thorough learning, a diligence that never was weary, a modesty that allowed too little to himself, and a charity and candor which often gave to others even more than their due. It would not be easy to find a mind in closer affinity with whatever is noblest in life. The higher objects seemed invariably to control the lower. There was no room in his soul for the lodgment of an unworthy thought, even for a moment. This was one source of the power of his influence. Every student felt that he uttered no sentiment, stated no opinion, and would defend no doctrine, which he did not entertain with the utmost sincerity of conviction. In his teaching, there was a rare union of exactness and delicacy of mind, an entire absence of a harsh and polemical spirit, and a thorough devotion to truth. His learning commanded the respect of his pupils, his sincerity and rectitude and carefulness obtained their fullest confidence, his gentleness won their love. Yet his gentleness and delicacy never lapsed into weakness and indecision, and on points of speculative belief or practical conduct, where many, apparently bolder than himself, might waver, he walked with the most unhesitating and invigorating manliness and freedom. He never turned away an inquirer with a coarse joke, or con

* Professor Bartlett, lately of the Western Reserve College.

cealed a difficulty under an attempted witticism, or solved a doubt by denying all ability or credit to the skeptic. He never adopted an unscholarlike method, one that would not stand the test of a fair and honest mind. Hence the authority of his opinions went far with those who were making up their own. The editor of the recent American edition of Coleridge's works says of him, speaking of the confidence which his confidence in an opinion inspired in the mind of a pupil,

"In reference, for instance, to some of the more able objections of a sceptical criticism to the inspiration of the Scriptures, my own mind, I distinctly remember, relieved itself by falling back upon the character and authority of my instructor. I could not have done this in reference to an ordinary mind, or to a common instructor. But I knew that the mind of my teacher, in this case, was one of singular candor and fairness, and would give opposing views all the weight they were entitled to; that it was a learned mind, fully conversant with the subtlest and ablest objections of Rationalism; and still a mind most vitally convinced of the truth of the doctrine of plenary inspiration. This fact had great weight with me, and although ultimately every mind must be rationally convinced of the truth for itself, and by the truth itself, still I cannot but think that this authority of a wise, learned, and honest teacher over the mind of a pupil, in some stages of his progress, is of the highest worth in preserving it from final scepticism. It braces and steadies the mind in a moment of weakness and irresolution, and enables it to take breath for a stronger and more successful effort of its own. Vol. i, pp. 168, 169.

Nearly allied to this trait, is what another correspondent † calls "his conscientious exactness as a teacher."

"I say conscientious, for it was a moral, as well as an intellectual trait. The habit of his mind led him to be exact, and he thought it wrong not to be. He labored to verify all his statements and all parts of them. Hence, we not only relied on their substance, but loved to preserve them in the precise form in which he gave them, being sure that every word had its place, for a good and indispensable reason. I would not for the world have changed the language nor the order of his translations, so faithful, so express an image of the original, so sure, and true, and necessary, did they seem, as you traced them word by word."

Prof. Shedd, of Auburn, N. Y. ↑ Prof. Putnam, of Dartmouth College.

We should be glad to dwell much longer on his character and methods in this sphere of his life, because we are persuaded it is so worthy of commendation to those engaged in what is too often a thankless office, and so encouraging too, since there is in these volumes abundant indication of the strength and value of the friendships then formed, and of the thorough appreciation of the value of his quiet and unobtrusive services by more than a few.

We have spoken of his candor. It was a remarkable trait of character, and quite unfitted him for being a polemic, or a sharp and bitter critic. The polemic may have a great, sometimes an essential, work to perform, yet he does it often at great expense to himself. For such duties Mr. Edwards was by nature unfit. He was ever more inclined to discern the favorable aspect of another's character or of a literary work, than its weak points. His judgments were therefore lenient, and he would find points of sympathy in those far beneath him, or whose sentiments, in many respects, were quite diverse from his. For the same reason, discourses or books, in which fault-finding, or a bitter satirical spirit was prevalent, were most distasteful to him. We remember hearing him say of Forsyth's Italy, a book of great talent, but the most of it written in a harsh tone, that he could not read it without destroying his enjoyment of works of art, and even the power of appreciating many of those beauties which the critic highly praised.

"The longer I live,' he wrote in 1839, 'the more I think religion to consist in candor, kindness, forbearance, hoping for the best. The way of the world is to be sometimes extremely lenient, but at other times cruel as the grave, and overbearing as a torrent." "

And again he wrote, in 1846,

"Pure religion, I am more and more convinced, so far as it has regard to our literary pursuits, consists in humanity, and courtesy, and honorable feeling, refined and perfected for Christ's sake. Better than all the creeds in the world without this humane temper, is the heart of him who weeps with those who weep, and is prompt to show those little delicate Christian kindnesses which are a cordial to a broken spirit." Vol. i. p. 114.

The same love of truth, and nothing but the truth, led him to judge, with great fairness, foreign nations and religious sects with which he had little sympathy. He was intolerant of nothing but evil. A malignant temper, under whatever show of wit or splendor it was exhibited, got no favor from him; but the good that was in another, though it magnified his own deficiencies, or those of his party or sect, was still his delight. Strict Protestant as he was, and of the New England stamp, few could set forth with more fairness and fulness the really strong points of the Roman Catholic Church in Italy. The neology of Germany was deeply offensive to his moral nature and his most thorough convictions of truth; yet he duly honored and we may say, no more than duly — the speculative tastes and unflagging scholarship, for which Germany has become distinguished.

For several years before his death, Professor Edwards had premonitory symptoms of that pulmonary difficulty to which he was finally compelled to yield. The winter of 1845-46 he spent at the South, finding in the climate of St. Augustine something to reconcile him to the interruption of his pursuits, the absence of libraries, and of that free and ample literary fellowship which, from long use, had become a necessity of his nature. Those who saw Mr. Edwards but seldom, and were familiar only with his graver appearance, would be surprised at the quickness of his observation, and the keen relish with which he enjoyed every timely exhibition of humor and wit. He watched, as we might suppose he would have done, with intensest interest, the operation of slavery at home; and, though apparently seeing none of those exhibitions which figure most largely in philanthropic novels, he returned with a deeper conviction of the inherent and inseparable evils of the system. It was the more natural that he should have regarded the condition of the negro race at the South with interest, from his own intimate connection with societies formed for the amelioration of the condition of the free blacks

throughout the United States. He had been prominent in forming the Massachusetts Colonization Society, and to the last, his convictions of the soundness of its principles, and those of the Parent Society, were unshaken.

He was

active in the formation of the "American Union for the Relief and Improvement of the Colored Race," in 1834, and labored diligently to carry out its plans.

Although his health was benefited by his southern residence, it was seen that a longer relaxation from labor was necessary, and therefore, without returning to Andover, he sailed from New York for England, April 22, 1846. The next autumn and winter were spent in Germany and Italy, and the whole tour was one of almost unmixed and enthusiastic delight. Never did pilgrim visit the shrines of saints with more joy than did this lover of every excellence the home of the poets, or the scenes of historic renown. He thus writes of his visit to Wordsworth and to Abbotsford.

"September 8, 1846.— Our visit with Wordsworth at Ambleside was in every respect such as we could wish. He received us with the utmost good feeling, and entertained us between one and two hours. He is a tall and venerable man, with white hairs, erect person; as seen in front, not resembling his portraits. His eyes have a wild expression. I asked him if his health was good. Very good, thank God, for a man who is seventy-six, though I cannot walk eighteen hours out of twenty-four, as I formerly sometimes did.' He conversed about the scenery in his neighborhood, Dr. Arnold, O'Connell, the Alps, Italy, etc. He said that the two most interesting cities he had seen were Venice and Edinburgh. He said that his sister, the Emmeline of the poems, has in manuscript two journals, one of a tour in Scotland, which he thought to be a model of that kind of writing, and which would be published after her death. She is now very old and infirm in body. She sat in front of the house, and recited to us some exquisite lines of her own recent composition, expressive of her gratitude to God and her brother. He introduced us to Mrs. Arnold, who lives in a perfect paradise. She received us most kindly, and gave us a fragment of a letter of her husband. It was touching to hear the people in the vicinity speak of Wordsworth, one of them not without tears. he never passed them without a kind word. About Abbotsford, what shall I say? We were almost in a delirium. One of our party actually shed tears on seeing Sir Walter Scott's hat and cane. Is not that dwelling a phenomenon? The interest at Waterloo, compared with that, is fading away. It is the Mecca of all civilized lands, - hallowed and immortal. In the course of a week we read a large part of his Life anew, and his Lady of the Lake four times over. His publisher [Mr. Cadell] told us that the sale of his works is as great as ever.

They said