followed by prostration of mind and body: his fine powers were all unstrung, and he lay for several weeks with only intervals of consciousness. The day of darkness had come, the cloud in thick folds had lowered, but its edges were fringed with a golden light. In these intervals, he was calm, collected, undismayed, and expressed his willingness to go. He made his preparation; he expressed also the wish to be buried in the midst of his people. He died October 30, 1848. After a brief service in the meeting-house of the Rev. Mr. Hall, in Dorchester, his remains were carried to Leominster to be interred in a more public manner, in the spot which he had chosen. Once more he was borne into the house of God; an affectionate tribute was paid to his memory in a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Lincoln of Fitchburg, and prayers were offered by members of the Worcester Association; and then he was followed by the long procession of his parishioners and friends to the place of his rest. It was the noon of a beautiful autumnal day, and the sun without a cloud was looking down. upon a congregation in tears, for he was now preaching to them his last and most impressive discourse. The young pastor who had come to them in the full tide of life and hope three years before, who had walked among them so holily and unblamably, and won their affections, now led them into the beautiful grove where he had so often followed to soothe and sustain. There he sleeps beneath the virgin soil, while the spring-flower above him in its early decay shall image to the heart his brief life, and the pine-trees, that wave over him in their perennial verdure, shall be the emblems of the influence which he has left behind.

A. H.

ART. X.-MOUNTFORD'S EUTHANASY.*

MR. MOUNTFORD has already become favorably known by his two former volumes, published first in London and afterwards in this country. The first publication, "Martyria," bore throughout the stamp of originality. It had great depth of thought, expressed in a singularly lucid style, with much

Euthanasy; or Happy Talk towards the End of Life. By WILLIAM MOUNTFORD, Author of "Martyria," "Christianity the Deliverance of the Soul and its Life," etc. Boston: Crosby & Nichols. 1848. 12mo. pp. 466.

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of the richness and quaintness of the old English writers. It was graphic, discriminating, and devout; while over the whole was a poetic glow and ideality which gave it a peculiar charm. The volume on "Christianity," while philosophical in its character, is thoroughly practical and Christian. Though brief, it is full of thought, and instinct with spiritual life. The work which has just been published is not a reprint, but is now for the first time presented to the public from the author's manuscript, under the editorship of the Rev. F. D. Huntington, who has added to the interest of the volume by his brief but admirable Preface. This last work is in no degree inferior in merit to those which have preceded it, and we believe it is destined to become even more generally useful. It is a book which will prove an incalculable treasure to those who are in sorrow and bereavement, and cannot be perused by any thoughtful mind without pleasure and improvement.

Mr. Mountford pursued his studies in the College at York, and afterwards preached at King's Lynn, on the eastern shore of England. He is at present connected with a religious society in a small village near Birmingham, known as the Parsonage. In this neighbourhood the author passed his early days. Here he now engages in his various duties, and enjoys his books and the quiet of the country. In his love for literature, the claims of the needy are not forgotten; he is deeply interested in the poor, and, in addition to his parochial labors, devotes a portion of his time to the instruction of destitute children, having one school wholly under his charge.

Thus in humble and honorable walks has his mind been disciplined and developed, and we think the productions of his pen show throughout the result of his experience. They are the work of one who has an intense love of nature, and who has at the same time a yet deeper love for humanity. They are the expression of a mind which can easily soar into the ideal world, and which yet loves the homeliest duties of actual life. They bear the impress of the most refined culture, and yet are not only free from every thing like pedantry, but are marked by a childlike simplicity of spirit. They are evidently the fruit of deep personal experience. Of his outward life he says little or nothing; to himself in any way he seldom alludes; and yet much of his inner life, with its hopes and fears and impulses and aspirations, is clearly made known to us. No one could write as he has written who had

not passed through the discipline of severe sorrow, and whose mind had not become habituated to spiritual thought. We have seldom read a book which has given us a stronger personal respect for the character of the author.

The work before us is in the form of dialogue. It has few incidents, and little that is in any way dramatic. Those who should anticipate a narrative of outward events would be disappointed, as hardly any thing of this nature is to be found; not enough, perhaps, to satisfy the wishes of many, who might desire to know more of the worldly fortunes of those whose spiritual condition is so fully exhibited to us. But this is not

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attempted. The volume presents us with a portraiture of inward rather than of outward life. There are two characters, and but two, introduced, - Marham and Aubin, an old man and his nephew. There is no attempt to give these characters sharpness of outline in the delineation, to make the one, in any way, a foil to the other, or to clothe their thoughts in such distinctive phraseology as to stamp their language with a marked individuality. We have simply the natural conversation of two persons who are in many respects similar, an old man with freshness of feeling, and a young man with maturity of thought. The conversation commences in a library, and, for aught we know to the contrary, nearly all that passes between them occurs in the same place. We have no recital of actions, but of thoughts; we are made acquainted, not with place, but with mind. The form of dialogue might seem at times to have been taken for the opportunity it gives to state an objection, or to express a sidethought, or to break up the monotony of a continued discourse; and for this purpose, it has its advantages, as may be seen in some of the writings of Herder, or, to go to a more ancient date, the Dialogues of Plato. But in this instance there are other advantages. Without any striving for dramatic effect, a certain individuality is given to the two characters introduced, and a personal interest is awakened in them. We cannot but feel veneration for the old man who carries so much of the beauty of youth into the experience of age, who is humble, gentle, and devout. We see, before his retrospective view, the horizon widen, while the past is filled with bright remembrances. His mind is also open to the recep tion of truth, and the future has its charms as well as the past, though shaded by some slight sadness. We see one who has

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cultivated thought and taste, and many of the finer affections. and sympathies of his nature.

It is true, that, in this volume, the lessons of wisdom come from the young man. Still, he gives expression to interesting views in regard to age, and we are led to respect age the more for what he says and feels. Nor does it seem presumptuous that youth should thus speak, for it is always with warm affection and respectful deference; and a good old age is not only willing to impart, but willing to receive. And there is, no doubt, a vivacity in the earlier periods of life, which gives to the mind a peculiarly glowing appreciation of the beauty and truth which it beholds. Certainly nothing can be more pleasing than the advantages and privileges of old age as here depicted.

The young man, called Oliver or Aubin, has passed through severe trials. Pain and poverty, sickness and sorrow, have pressed sorely upon him; but they have all been borne with Christian trust, and have thus been made ministering angels. We see one whose body may have become enfeebled, but whose mind has risen constantly upward with increasing vigor. He is poor in the goods of this world, but he has affluence of thought and is rich in the priceless treasures of a devout mind. He is meditative, but it is not idle reverie which he indulges, but earnest contemplation upon the great mysteries of existence. He has a mind that is philosophical and often profound, penetrating the depths of being with a calm insight; and, united with this, a living faith in Jesus, which gives a divine beauty to his whole thought and exalts and purifies every sentiment of his heart.

We cannot doubt that in Aubin we look into the author's mind and have the result of his own mental experience; and this gives value to the whole volume. It is not a romance. It is not a chapter of theories. It is not a mere work of art. It is the expression of a life, the earnest utterance of a living soul in the loftier phases of its being. Biographies detailing external facts may be easily multiplied; and there are many whose lives are so mechanical, that little else could be said of them than what was external. But there are those who have a hidden life, infinitely superior to any outward show. A universe of thought opens before them. They see beneath the material world into its hidden laws. They hold communion with the Father of spirits, and become the recipients of his Divine influence. They have thoughts which run for

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ward into the future, and which unite them with the Infinite and Unseen. They have hopes and joys and aspirations which are peculiar to themselves. They have developed and exercised powers of their nature which in many minds lie dormant, and which, when called into right action, raise the whole spirit into a higher scale of being. Records of such lives we need. They lay bare the hidden springs of character, and make known to us the successive stages of spiritual progress and the joys and experiences which follow. As far as this volume is a transcript of the actual inner life of the author, (and that it is so to a very considerable degree we are confident,) in that proportion it has a rare value.

But this book is conversant not only with inward experiences, but with outward nature, with society, science, philosophy, life. Indeed, what is society, science, philosophy, life, to us, but what it becomes through our inward condition? What we see and feel depends upon what we are. Let one who lives wholly under the dominion of the senses, and another whose spirit is more finely touched and who sees into the life of things, look upon any scene or consider any subject, and how widely different will appear that which they behold! The one sees but the surface; the other is conversant with the spiritual laws of God, while every thing becomes transparent, so that those laws shine through. How different is literature to the cultivated and to the ignorant mind! How different art to the savage and to the man of refined taste! Every one will find in these what he is capable of finding, and no more. Thus, as the mind itself rises in spiritual life, it will discover a profounder meaning in all the works of God. Beauty and truth will be more fully seen and understood. Hence it is not only interesting to know what is the spiritual condition of any mind, but how that mind looks upon all outward things. What it would say of the mysteries of life, of death and immortality, of revelation and providence.

In "Euthanasy" we see these subjects reflected, as the sky and the hills are reflected in a calm, deep lake. We find them treated by a mind that has put itself in harmony with the spiritual laws of God. In all the conversations, views upon various subjects of thought are introduced, and important truths unfolded; or at least what has appeared truth to an earnest and thoughtful and devout mind. A few examples will illustrate the character of the work.