the greater predominance in his spirit and his policy. His principle partakes of the character of the pendulum, swinging on this side and now on that; seven years ago his face was towards Rome; now he is resolute on restraining Romish tendencies beyond a given point. His clergy have now two courses before them; if they think good, they may sink into sound Evangelism, or they may rise into high and dry thorough-paced Church of Englandism; we presume, he cares not which of them; if there be any preference it is for the latter, but there must be no visible hankering after the Vatican. In thus speaking, we refer wholly to his present practical course; for of his inner man, his real feeling, having no knowledge, we can make no affirmation. The Church Unions promise, or rather threaten, to become formidable confederacies. How they may ultimately operate it may be difficult to tell; but it seems clear that they can hardly continue to exist without contributing to great ecclesiastical changes. That recently held in the Metropolis, took very high grounds. A resolution was carried unanimously, to the effect, that the recent aggression of the Pope is, in a great measure to be attributed to the crippled state of the Church of England, and a direct consequence of the long-continued suppression of her synodal functions; that the Church of England can deal with this aggression only in her corporate capacity, that is to say, her national synod, which the 139th canon designates to be the true Church of England by representation. This is a serious view of the matter so far as the peace of the country is concerned. Had the Government, some century back, extinguished the Scotch Presbyteries, Synods, and General Assemblies, and thus riveted down every parochial minister in his parsonage, all would be isolation, death, and peace; there had been no disruption, and consequently no Free Church. Let the English Convocation be restored, and stirring times are at hand. The Church and the Government will speedily get to loggerheads, and it is not difficult to predict which will go to the wall. I WILL KEEP THEE. A GEM OF ANTIQUITY. THUS saith Jesus: I will keep In safety my defenceless sheep, From sin, and endless misery; Seeking soul, I will keep thee. SOUL. Lord, I believe thy word is sure, JESUS. I passed by the rich and brave; Oh! trust me, then; I will keep thee. SOUL. But, Lord, I have a deeper wound; An evil heart within I've found: My nature's enmity with thee, Offended King! wilt thou keep me? JESUS. Of old thy evil I beheld, Yet was with love and pity fill'd: I therefore died to set thee free,For my own sake I will keep thee. SOUL. Yea, I have proved thy power, my God, JESUS. Before I wrought upon thy will, Poetry. I knew how treach'rous thou wouldst deal; I did thy base transgressions see, SOUL. Permit me once again to speak; JESUS. Let, then, this answer thee suffice; SOUL. But ah! I feel temptation strong; JESUS. Can I forsake my heart's delight? I am the Ark that goes before, To guide the pilgrims safe to shore; At my rebuke shall Jordan flee; In life, in death, I will keep thee. Then, then, my sister, then, my spouse, I will fulfil my sacred vows, And thou in bliss my glory see, SOUL. It is enough. My Lord! my Love! Thy word is pass'd-THOU WILT KEEP ME! Monthly Obituary. REV. ALGERNON WELLS. THE most unlooked-for, and the most important event of the month, or rather of the year, has been the departure of Mr. Wells. We remember nothing, for many years, that has so affected the Nonconformist portion of the public resident in and around the metropolis. Those living at a distance can hardly form an idea of the effect of the sudden intelligence in all circles of that portion of religious society. Although, for a long season, he had been withdrawn from the public eye, he remained as near as ever to the public heart; and although he had been so seriously indisposed, it had not been intimated that there was anything alarming in his affliction, and nothing was apprehended. Under these circumstances love inspired hope; and hence there was a general confidence, that, in due time, if not at an early day, he would appear again diffusing wisdom and knowledge, life and gladness, in those circles he had so long contributed to delight and edify. It was also generally known that it had been determined by his flock to build a new chapel for his ministry, and anticipations were confidently cherished that, by the time it should be ready, he would be in a state to come forth once more, with increased purity and power, from the severe furnacing to which he had been so long subjected. None entered more heartily into this project than the dear and honoured pastor himself; his last public act, indeed, was to issue, from the chamber of his affliction, an epistle to his people on the subject of this sacred edifice, entitled "The House of the Lord." But, alas! his purposes were soon to be broken off. That chapel is indeed to rise, but it will never echo his melting accents; and its sacred desk will never be hallowed by his unaffected tears. No! another must take his bishopric! His work on earth is done! Of the many touching memories of the funeral day, not the least was the dismantled aspect of the present House of Prayer in which he had so long, so happily, and so effectively ministered, to make way for the new erection. The windows were removed, the roof was partially taken off, and the work of demolition had otherwise commenced in divers places. The sight was in melancholy keeping with the sorrowful procession. Saturday, January 4, was the day fixed for the funeral. On that day the usually quiet village of Clapton was the scene of extraordinary excitement, such as was never known there before in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. The presence of a hearse and twenty mourning coaches, about twelve o'clock, intimated to the population that the hour was approaching when the dust of the man whom many had known, and whom all that knew had loved, was to be borne from their midst to its final resting-place. To the observer the lesson was most affecting, while it strikingly illustrated the weight of worth and the power of character. It seemed as if the head man of the little community had been called away, and that by this circumstance each felt himself bereaved, and all were covered with mourning. Old and young, rich and poor, the devout and the worldly, all for a time were mingled in one common sorrow. Every eye was attracted to the house which had been so long the honoured residence of the Dead, and which was now hallowed by his dust, and still the dwelling of his much-loved family, overwhelmed by the deepest grief. Everything about the funeral was in perfect keeping with the habits and character of the departed. The hearse, which was drawn by two horses, was quite plain, without any sort of plumage. Anything else would have but ill-assorted with the dust of the most unostentatious of men. In addition to the family and its immediate friends, and the representatives of the Church at Clapton, there were other deputed bodies from various Societies to which Mr. Wells had rendered important aid by tongue and pen throughout his entire public career. The gathering was one such as is not often seen under any circumstances, and only in the case of the removal of extraordinary worth. Along most of the line from Clapton to Stoke Newington, the houses and shops were in part, or wholly shut up, while the road was lined by deeply solemn, and not a few of them tearful spectators. Stoke Newington and Kingsland seemed to have turned out the bulk of the best portion of their inhabitants. The large chapel of the Rev. John Jefferson was kindly furnished for the funeral service, and, although but a portion of the assembled multitude were admitted, it was filled in every part. Mr. Jefferson opened the solemn and affecting business of the hour by reading appropriate Scriptures, giving out some verses of a suitable hymn, and offering a special prayer; after which, Dr. Burder delivered an Address, of which a full and accurate report is given. The venerable speaker seemed deeply affected as he spoke over the dust of his former pupil and muchloved friend; and when recounting the decease of divers honoured men, the companions of his early years, and others, the subjects of his academic tuition, he clearly realized, with intense emotion, the passing character of all human affairs, and the brevity of the span allotted to the race. When he intimated, that, out of two hundred young men whom he had helped to train for the Ministry, forty-two had gone to their rest and their reward, the fact, as it came falteringly from his lips, fell with great solemnity on the minds of all present, but more especially on the ministers of the Gospel. When Dr. Burder had finished, the Rev. Thomas James ascended the pulpit, and closed the mournful exercise by prayer; after which the body was borne to its last long home, followed by the mourners and a very great concourse of people. On the coffin being deposited in the grave, which was built of brick, the Rev. Thomas Binney briefly prayed and pronounced the benediction; after which the company, with the multitude, departed. We have attended many funerals, where the worth of the dead was strongly attested by the deep and sincere sorrow of the living, exhibiting scenes which were of great and lasting honour to both; but we never remember any occasion of the kind in which there was more of all that love for the departed delights to witness. Never did we behold a larger measure of sorrow, marked by the deep, the sincere, the pure, and the holy-an honourable tribute to a truly noble man. The Rev. Thomas Binney preached the Funeral Sermon at Dr. Burder's, on the subsequent Lord's-day week, to an overflowing audience. On the present occasion we forbear any enumeration of the special virtues and services any delineation of the talents and excellencies of the departed. Time and space forbid. But we shall next month, if possible, give a memorial sketch of our never-to-be-forgotten friend. Then will be the time for such tributes as it may be proper to pay, and such practical lessons as it may be desirable to deduce from the life, labours, and death of the Rev. Algernon Wells. We subjoin the account of the Funeral, which appeared in the BRITISH BANNER. FUNERAL OF THE LATE REV. The ceremony of the interment of the late Rev. Algernon Wells took place on Saturday, the 4th inst., at Abney-park Cemetery. The mournfully interesting services connected with the Funeral were held in the chapel of the Rev. Mr. Jefferson, exactly opposite the Cemetery. The chapel was filled with a deeply devout and affected auditory, the mourners and those connected with the funeral occupying the whole of one side of the middle aisle. Upwards of a hundred ministers were present, most of whom formed the melancholy procession. The coffin having been brought into the chapel, and placed upon biers for its reception, the Rev. Mr. Jefferson read, amid the suppressed emotions of the assembly, several appropriate passages of Scripture, and afterwards engaged in suitable prayer, and the hymn having been eung "How blest the righteous when he dies! When sinks a weary soul to rest!"The Rev. Dr. BURDER ascended the pulpit, and delivered the following pathetic Address, which was listened to with the deepest interest: My beloved Friends,-All visits to the grave, to the house appointed for all living, have been among the most painful, yet the most profitable of all our engagements. They have brought us by vivid and realizing impressions, to the confines of an unseen and eternal world. They have aided our communion with the spirits of the just made perfect, and with their Lord and Saviour and our own--He who has said for our solace and our hope, "Fear not, I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth, and was dead: and behold I am alive for ever more, Amen; and have the keys of the unseen world and of death." "I am the resurrection and the life he that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." It is well for us to cultivate a growing familiarity with things unseen and eternal, under the deep impression that every day is bringing us nearer to the moment of the great transition from this world to the world of disembodied spirits, to the home of our hopes, to the rest from our labours, and to the presence of the Lord we love. A sad succession of the deaths and the funerals of our endeared relat ves and friends may be regarded as the most st iking and touching indications of our progress through the various stages of the journey of life. After we have reached the maturity of manhood, if not before, we lose one by one, not only our venerated and beloved parents, but also their associates and contemporaries, till all that generation has passed away. We feel, especially when both our parents are gone, as if we were at once placed in a new position, bringing with it additional responsi bilities, and urging upon us additional motives to serve our God and our generation with devoted earnestness of heart. When moving onwards in the meridian of life, we are not unfrequently called to mourn over the loss of much-loved friends and fellow-labourers in the service of our Lord of our own age and standing, with whom we have taken "sweet counsel," and with whom, in mind, and heart, and effort, our sympathies were one. The pain of the disruption of such friendships is known by those, and only those, who have sustained the loss. How inadequate did I find the power of words to be, as an utterance of the heart, when standing at the graves of my own early associates and beloved friends, Joseph Fletcher and George Payne! As we advance in our journey, we find ourselves, not, at the first, without some surprise, viewed by those around us as occupying a place among the seniors; and then, alas! how soon and how often are we called to shed the tears of the mourner on the loss of endeared friends and efficient ministers younger than ourselves! Having anticipated for such a longer course, our grief and our sorrows have a character of peculiar intensity. Thus have some made great lamentation over those beloved and honoured brethren, Winter Hamilton and John Ely. May I be permitted to claim for myself, dear brethren, some peculiarity of intensity in those feelings of bereavement, and still more on this occasion of still deeper grief. May I be permitted to remind my fellow-mourners, that towards those distinguished ministers of Christ, and towards the much-loved friend who has now been taken from us, it was my honour and happiness to stand in relation of Tutor: and it is a thought deeply affecting, that of the two hundred Students for the Christian ministry, whose mental discipline I endeavoured to train, forty-two have been already summoned from their labours to their rest! May we, dear brethren in the ministry, live and labour with spirit-stirring and realising anticipations of our own departure hence. May each of us preach more and more as a dying man to dying men ! About five-and-thirty years have, I believe, elapsed since Algernon Wells entered Hoxton College. He had not been favoured in early life with very considerable attainments in education; but his progress and his perseverance were apparent to all. Never had I student discovering a greater aptitude for the reception of knowledge, or for the formation of those intellectual habits which give the promise of untiring assiduity, and corresponding proficiency. His studies had their commencement, not their completion, in his academic course. Beyond most ministers whom I have known, he has ever since been a student. Deeply and devotionally did he "search the Scriptures," enjoying and signing the testimony of the Prophets and the Apostles to the Great Redemption, to the surpassing glory of our Lord and Saviour, on whose love and grace it often seemed difficult for him to dwell, without being suffused with tears. During the years of his ministry in Essex, he gathered up ample stores by reading and reflection for the enrichment of his vigorous mind. member, in answer to some inquiries which I made in the course of conversation with him some years back, he mentioned, among other works of old divines, he had read with care the entire and voluminous writings of Owen and Howe. These, amidst the many and various I re engagements which multiplied upon him, after his removal to the Metropolis, he read with more deliberate thought and reflection than any man in active life with whose habits I am acquainted. He wrote and studied not only books, but men and things. He was accurately observant of all the various phases of society in its different classes, both in the world and in the Church. He was thus enabled to form correct and comprehensive views regarding the moral and spiritual condition of his fellow-men, the exigencies which call for Christian aid, and the methods most to be relied on for extending, at home and abroad, the blessings of the great salvation. The singular and peculiar fitness of our honoured and beloved friend for the prominent position he was called by the suffrages of his brethren to occupy in the Congregational Union of Ministers of Christian Churches, we have all acknowledged and admired. We have gratefully ascribed to the Giver of every good and every perfect gift, those many endowments and endearing attributes which rendered him so great a blessing, not only to our own denomination, but also to the Church of Christ at large. Such combination of intellect, power, and resources, with the bland ingenuousness, the kindly warmth, and the truthful sincerity of a loving heart, deserves to be held in undying remembrance. In pulpit services, and ministerial intercourse, my beloved brother was favoured with great encouragement and delight. That with unconscious effort he conciliated and secured, in an unusual degree, the love and admiration of the people of his charge, it is almost unnecessary for me to assert. In the easy flow of his instructive and animated conversation, rich in thought and sentiment, the bright beamings of his speaking eye, there was a charm which will not soon pass away from the memorial written on our hearts. But I must not invade the province of my honoured brother, on whom will devolve the delivery of the Funeral Sermon, by entering on the interesting close of his ministe. rial relation and pulpit engagements. One circumstance, however, let me notice. In the course of one of the conversations I had with our lamented friend in the early part of his illness, he intimated that, should he be permitted to preach again, he thought he should preach Christ with a fulness of exhibition and heart exceeding by far his past endeavours. And more recently, to another friend, a member of his church, he expressed the same desire and hope in language still more energetic. "I have finished my tract," he said, 'The House of the Lord,' and am hasting to bring it out. I am anxious to record the thoughts gathered together while lying here. They will be on the glorious Gospel. Ah! my friend," he added, "if it please God, I hope to be able to preach it to you as I have never yet done. Not that I reproach myself with having concealed or forgotten it. No: but more than ever I would fain speak of it as I have felt it here. I would make it the first thing-the pre-eminent. All gathered knowledge, all history, all poetry, all pleasant duties and happy things that I have, shall illustrate and be subservient to this-the glorious Gospel! The more I think of it in my long and quiet ponderings, the more precious and needful it becomes to me. Yes: I will have it written; but I long to preach it, and if it please God, will preach Christ as I never did yet. That is, dear Sir, my all and one thing-the glorious Gospel." "It is impossible," adds the friend who heard it, "to convey by words the impression of his emphatic earnestness." As a neighbouring minister, I greatly valued and greatly honoured him, and only lament that his incessant and pressing engagements allowed me such limited opportunities of enjoying his society. I never conversed with any brother in the Christian ministry with whose generous views of truth, and duty, and usefulness, I more entirely sympathised. At our Union Meetings for prayer and edification, and for co-operating in measures of useful exertion, he spoke as if his heart was impressed with the power of his thoughts and the pathos of his impressive urgency, when stimulating us to zeal in doing good. He loved his Saviour, he loved his people, and he loved his services. Such a minister, such a friend, and such a length of confidential intimacy, I well might love. Never did I know the man with whom I could have had higher enjoyment in the enrichment of my mind. But, alas! he is gone. The place that knew him, in the family, in the church, and in the union of hearts and efforts to do good, shall know him no more. Yet how soothing is it to feel assured that, as to him to live was Christ, so to die, has now proved incalculable gain. For him to depart from us, was at once to be present with the Lord, which to him is infinitely better. It was not expected, during his long and painful illness, that he should depart so soon. He was not without the expectation and the hope of a renewal of the labours which he loved; but when he felt, from the rapid prostration of his strength, that his departure was indeed at hand, his mind seemed at once prepared. At the question, asked by one of his attached, anxious family, "Are you happy?" he replied, not less, I understand, than four times," Very, very, very, very!" and afterwards, when entreated by his nearest and dearest relative, to press her hand if he still felt peaceful and happy, he pressed it firmly. Not long after this, his emancipated spirit entered on its upward course along the path of life, to receive that first, and greatest, and richest of all rewards to all labours the welcome of the Lord of glory, "Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." God grant that we may all, with him, spend our eternity of rapture and of praise! The Rev. THOMAS JAMES then concluded the in-door services by giving out the hymn "Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb! Take this new treasure to thy trust." The Rev. Gentleman then engaged in prayer; after which the mournful procession was again formed, and, attended by a large concourse of affected spectators, slowly moved to the grave, at which, the coffin having been lowered, the Rev. Thomas Binney offered a deeply impressive prayer, and the solemnised assembly separated. Religious Entelligence. THE PYE SMITH TESTIMONIAL. THE most interesting event of the month, in London, has been the Pye Smith Testimonial Meeting, at the City of London Tavern. That meeting was one which will never be forgotten by those who were privileged to attend it. The Testimony itself, although such a sum as has seldom been raised in connection with any individual name, was nothing, compared with the assembly which that day met, as a homage to exalted worth. It was, indeed, a grand moral spectacle,—a glorious triumph of personal excellence. The man whom the assembly had met to honour had commenced his public career before the bulk of them had come into being. For fifty long and most eventful years he had pursued his honourable, devout, and patriotic course, and, in a measure, finished it; keeping the faith and defending it, expounding its principles and adorning them. Of what events, home and foreign, had he been the witness! To what an ocean of thought, in that long space, had that one mind given birth! What human hand could record the amount of his observation? What man could chronicle his experience of all sorts upon all subjects? What shall be said of his various reading, general authorship, social converse, private correspondence, platform speaking, and pulpit labours? The very thought overwhelms! The occasion was one of the few in which there is reason to rejoice in the lot of human nature, in its late retirement from occupying the high places of the earth. Few reflecting men, on that delightful day, could withhold the inward exclama tion, "Oh! happy man, to have fought such a fight, and to have gained such a victory, or rather series of victories, and at the close of your glorious career, to number such a host of friends -and such friends! -and to see a friend wherever you see a man!" Take Dr. Smith for all in all, few such men have appeared in any nation, not even in this, so fruitful of men great and good. His infirmities were few and small, things hardly deserving of notice. His attainments and virtues are so numerous, so various, and so great, that it were not easy to find a parallel in any section of the Church of God in any country. Such was the man; and, in speaking of him, we must do justice to Christian society, which, with all its imperfections, is ever true to great principles. Distinguished merit never can be permanently concealed from its penetrating eye, and in no case will it always go unrewarded. Pre-eminent personal worth is a luminous body, which is seen in its own light. The Church of Christ is never blind; if, sooner or later, she fail to discover excellence, there is reason to doubt its existence. The case of Dr. Smith is full of encouragement to young tutors, young pastors, and all such as aspire to be useful to their fellow men, and to promote the glory of God. The chair was occupied by W. A. Hankey, Esq., Treasurer to the fund. There were present a large number of the principal ministers and leading laymen of the Congregational body, Seated at the left of the Chairman was the |