"His subsequent illness was variously attributed to his pastoral labours, or to his efforts in behalf of others, or to his public exertions; those who assigned any single cause, rather shewed their estimate of its greatness, than their knowledge of the amount of his ordinary occupations. It will occasion much greater surprise that he could so long support this complicated burden, than that he at last sunk under it. The symptoms of disease were seen by none but those who could discern that cloud no bigger than a man's hand, prophetic of the coming darkness. He had not relaxed in his labours, and had been engaged in aiding the benevolent exertions of those who thought that the time had come for the establishment of a Home Mission, to follow out the plans so admirably illustrated by Dr. Tuckerman. It was an object which he had long had at heart, but which seemed beset with too many difficulties to be proposed, until he perceived a strong desire for it on the part of others. He was warned that his income might eventually suffer by this new call on the liberality of the congregation; but this consideration failed to influence him, from his strong feeling of the importance of the undertaking. "Before the branch was withered, it shed some of its mellowest fruit. He devoted himself more than usual to pulpit composition, though his last sermons were concluded extempore, and his overflowing fulness displayed itself in discourses for which he had made no written preparation. On the 19th of May he preached the biennial sermon in behalf of the Girls' Daily School. For the first time, the children of the different Schools connected with the Society, to the number of about 300, were arranged in view of the congregation, and he addressed himself to them, after concluding extempore the discourse which he had written for the occasion, - The earth to be filled with the knowledge of the Lord' (Isaiah xi. 9). Few could remain unmoved, when they listened to his tones of affectionate earnestness; or could avoid entering into the joy which he felt, when he witnessed the good fruit which his exertions had been so instrumental in preparing."-Pp. 426-428. A few weeks afterwards he had a severe attack, and went to Clevedon and Portishead for bathing and change of air. "He made, however, but little progress, and it was thought desirable that he should repair to London for further medical advice. On July 22nd, on his way thither, he visited his home for the last time. Little did his children think, when preparing for his arrival with those marks of welcome which were wont to be richly rewarded by the approving smile of parental love and tenderness, that the place which once knew him would know him no more. It was mournful to see him who was once full of life and energy and cheerfulness, now bowing under the stroke; yet there was much in that short visit on which to look back with peculiar interest, as their last interview. There was a touching gentleness in his manner, an anxious solicitude for the welfare of others prevailing over his dejection for himself, that softened and chastened the feelings of sorrow, whilst it added to the strength of affectionate and respectful sympathy. If any thing were needed to give a greater tenderness to the love he inspired, those hours supplied it; and the memory of them is such as the bereaved desire to cherish."-Pp. 431, 432. In company with a judicious medical friend, he travelled through Belgium, Germany, Switzerland and Italy. "After a residence of nearly a month at Naples, during the latter part of which he was not so well as he had before been, it was determined to proceed to Turin; and, to avoid the wearisome repetition of the same route, they embarked for Leghorn on board the Sully,' a French steamer, bound to Marseilles, which left the harbour about four o'clock in the afternoon of Sunday, the 5th of April. It was thought that, if the weather had been fair, he might have been refreshed by his voyage; but unfortunately the sea was rough, and the rain prevented him from remaining much on deck. At six o'clock he dined, and had not at that time complained of sickness, though he was evidently uncomfortable. Former experience proved that was easily disturbed, especially when in delicate health, by the motion of a vessel; and he was always peculiarly dependant on free ventilation. His friend, soon after his meal, was attacked by sea-sickness, and was com- pelled to lie down; Dr. C. was at that time sitting in the cabin, not far from his bed, in company with three or four other gentlemen, who afterwards re- tired. He was seen walking on the deck till about ten o'clock that night; and was subsequently observed standing on the cabin stairs, apparently for the sake of fresh air, the rain being then too violent to allow of any one remaining above. This was the last time that he was seen; but it appeared the next morning that he had retired to his berth, and had unlocked his bag and removed some of the contents, as if preparing to go to rest. It is probable that, whilst thus engaged, sea-sickness overpowered him, and that he went on deck; when it pleased God suddenly to remove him, in a manner which there was no human eye to witness, and of which no human tongue, therefore, can confidently speak.' That he should not have been observed is the less surprising, as the night was very dark and stormy, and there were only two men upon deck; the vessel was violently tossed, so that one of the paddles was occasionally out of the water; and probably one of these lurches occurring when he was leaning over the side, oppressed by sea-sickness, he lost his balance and fell overboard."*-Pp. 440-442. On this mysterious subject the Editor wisely observes- "His sudden death † spared him the pains of protracted suffering, which might have increased the depression under which he laboured. The mode of his removal is associated in the mind with many familiar and affecting images. Death we think of as the dark river; and sorrow is the sea, in whose waves all mortals are more or less purified. The obscurity of the night, and the solemn circumstances attending the event, well accord with the mysterious nature of the state into which he has entered; and lead the mind, more than a common dismissal would have done, to the Great Being without whom nothing cometh to pass. He was not, for God took him.' Though his remains were not consigned to a spot which might be wept over by those who would have loved to visit it, yet his friends were spared those painful spectacles which are significant of the decay that is incident to our corruptible nature; and were enabled with greater freedom to look upon him as only removed to another more glorious mansion of the Father's We have now to add a few remarks on the various relations sus- tained by Dr. Carpenter. "The same view of the nature of the accident is taken by a gentleman belong- ing to the British Navy, who accompanied Dr. C. (to whom he was a complete stranger) from the hotel at Naples, and was his fellow-passenger on board the "As, on the night of the said accident, it was very dark, with a strong sea on, and blowing from the northward, I have every reason to believe that the gentleman † "It is an interesting coincidence, that his predecessor at Exeter, the Rev. His mental influence was undoubtedly considerable. He possessed many intellectual qualities which gave him a useful power over others. As a friend, he was often consulted on account of the quickness of his apprehension, the clearness of his judgment and the firmness of his manner. As an author, his reputation may be ascribed in some degree to his patient industry in collecting and applying facts, and to his exact, candid and successful investigation of opposing arguments. Mr. Martineau bears testimony* that "his mind was placed far above the reach of all the ingenuity by which, in private or public affairs, questionable things are sometimes justified; the subtleties of the most brilliant casuistry were thrown away upon him, and could not detain him for a moment from an immediate insight into the merits of every question amenable to the law of Conscience." Nor were the imaginative faculties dormant in him; he had a keen relish for good poetry and the higher kinds of eloquence; thoughts of great beauty appear in many of his own sermons; and while he was illustrating a controversial or scientific subject, he would introduce a family scene or a natural phenomenon with admirable taste. In this respect he frequently proved the truth of Dugald Stewart's remark, "The accession made to the stock of our knowledge by the new facts and ideas which we acquire, is not to be estimated merely by the number of these facts and ideas considered individually; but by the number of relations which they bear to one another and to all the different particulars which were previously in the mind." † But the influence of Dr. Carpenter cannot be traced mainly to his intellectual powers. The fruits of his mind, ample and varied as they were, did not answer the expectations of many of those who knew him in early life. Then, it is said, there was reason to suppose that he would attain considerable eminence by his labours in the departments of language, metaphysics, and both moral and natural philosophy. Nor should it be forgotten that, besides some valuable lectures in the institutions with which he was connected, and various courses of school instruction, he contributed to encyclopædias, and several other important works, the results of his patient study and matured reflections. Such contributions, however, added comparatively little to his reputation. Again, his style of writing and speaking, in many cases a fair index of the mind, did not improve as he advanced in life. It was often prolix and deficient in clearness; frequently leaving the idea with which he began a sentence, he started another, pursued it through a long parenthesis, and failed to render his exact meaning obvious with regard to either. When he spoke, the effect of this obscurity was diminished by the sweet tones of his voice or by his deeply impressive manner; and in reading his writings, those who knew the man had a solution of much that would have been otherwise difficult. Meanwhile the public lost a great advantage. Not a few who loved his spirit and admired his character, were somewhat disappointed in his writings. These remarks apply chiefly to those controversial works which were prepared amidst many pressing engagements. They are scarcely * Letter to the Editor, p. 344. † Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind (1814), p. 432. applicable to others, which, like the Geography of the New Testament and the Harmony of the Gospels, were the result of long deliberation and subject to frequent revision. That he could write with a "terse and energetic brevity" there are, as his biographer intimates, several striking proofs. Why he occasionally failed in this respect, and why his influence in the world of letters was not generally equal to his influence as a Christian minister, it is not difficult to say. In the first place, the very fulness of his mind was against him. It continually overflowed with the results of study, experience and recent observation. Endowed with a temperament peculiarly susceptible, he could not exclude the impressions of passing events, and confine himself strictly for a considerable time to one pursuit. It is probable, however, that ideas which appeared to others disconnected, were not so in his own wide view of things, but had intimate relations and most harmonious bearings. In many respects he resembled Fenelon; and, while noticing a want of sufficient mental abstraction, we are reminded of a saying of that excellent man which Dr. Carpenter might have justly adopted-" When I enter my study, it is only to remain as with one foot uplifted, ready to quit it at the slightest signal that Providence designs to unsettle me." Among the causes of the comparative imperfections to which we allude, were frequent ill health, requiring long and complete cessations from literary labour, and a keen, may we not add an undue, sense of responsibility. Who that looks back upon the life of Dr. Carpenter can doubt that he overrated his moral obligations? Was it indeed his duty to engage in so many undertakings, hastening from one to another with unnatural rapidity, and denying himself the common intervals of rest and relaxation? We admire the motive, but we question the opinion. It has been said that "he must have changed his whole nature in order to be influenced by any thought of sparing himself." But supposing that the same amount of exertion was necessary, might he not have extended his usefulness by limiting the number of objects? True, he accomplished much, very much, in almost all the departments to which he devoted himself; and never is mortal man permitted to exhibit complete perfection: it appears to be a law of our nature that, in this life, intense devotion and intellectual superiority should somewhat impede each other; it is only in a higher life that the mind can put forth its full power in the successful execution of God's purposes, and yet glow with that pious ardour which is said to be felt by the cherubim and seraphim which praise His name continually. No; we are not surprised at the disturbing causes which operated in the case of our departed friend, -the wear and tear of struggles for truth and knowledge and exalted virtue. We trust, however, that we are not venturing on forbidden ground in wishing (alas! we fear we have often done so with a feeling approaching to anguish) that in peace and joy his precious life could have been prolonged, and that with still greater maturity it could have been gathered in ! The social qualities of Dr. Carpenter were of the highest and purest kind. With perfect justice his biographer might have eulogized them more warmly. We never knew a man whose mere presence diffused so much cheerfulness. It was happiness to look upon his benevolent countenance when he was surrounded by beloved friends. At such moments, who could think that he was ever the victim of depression-reproaching himself with having done no good? Great cause had he for satisfaction in his immediate circle, notwithstanding the trials to which he was occasionally subject. Few parents have received a richer reward; his sons came to honour, and he knew it; all his children were pursuing paths of usefulness, and laying the foundation for deep and extensive respect. He derived much pleasure from his intercourse with men who took prominent parts in public life. With all our attachment to the political party to which he gave his support, we are not sure that his reverence for Whig Lords and Bishops was not a little too strong. But so great was his humility, and so disinterested his whole heart, that no one would think of ascribing this feeling to a mere fondness for rank and power. Every statesman or prelate whom he venerated had done much in times of darkness for civil and religious liberty. His moral perceptions were more than usually acute. A great admirer of Hartley, he made "the Rule of Life" of that true Christian philosopher his own. The views which he adopted were consistently acted upon at all times, but especially in reference to plans of education. Mr. Russell Carpenter has given a striking instance of the strictness of his father's sense of duty when his moral character arrived at maturity, in the confession of a falsehood uttered when he was a boy. At first we had some doubt as to the desirableness of publishing this anecdote, but reflection has led us to admire the tendency of the recital as well as the honesty of the motive. Surely that man is most likely to avoid deceitful biases who has the courage to avow that he has already acted wrongfully; and the knowledge that Mr. Carpenter made such an avowal, and was probably strengthened by it in a subsequent righteous course, may operate usefully. We will not say, "who would not, for the penitence of the man, have committed the fault of the child?" although we may be confirmed in the belief, that in genuine repentance there are the elements of lofty and determined virtue. We have spoken of Dr. Carpenter's mental, social and moral influence. More powerful than all was his religious influence. He was pre-eminently respected, because he was pre-eminently devout and holy. By benevolent exertion, by pious reflection, by selfdenial, by prayer, he had attained more than common purity and excellence. He held habitual communion with the Deity. God was in his thoughts continually. He was not alone, because the Father was with him. And although he delighted in the revelations of the Divine Being afforded by the material universe, yet the knowledge of Him which he chiefly valued was that which he had acquired through Christ. It is said that the celebrated sculptor Dannecher carved one of the noblest of his works-the Saviour-with this sentiment uppermost in his mind, "Through me to the Father;" during eight years he laboured to realize this idea. The sentiment which the artist dwelt upon for one object, the divine dwelt upon for his daily and hourly duties. A single circumstance mentioned by his biographer (p. 459) shews as clearly as many pages how strong was his desire to be like Jesus. "In his pocket-book he kept the calendar of our Lord's ministry, apparently to fix in his mind the |