gravity of the writer; nor do we recollect a single instance of intentional sarcasm or humour. But Howe, though equally solemn and much more earnest in his appeals, has shewn in his letters and conversations, as well as his graver productions, considerable powers of wit, which on suitable occasions, he could employ with great force, either in the way of pleasantry or satire. It should be observed however that he never suffers his wit to run away with his temper or his argument, but is just as philosophically calm and logical in his banter, as in his graver discussions; of which the following sentences from the 'Living Temple,' in which the dreams of the epicurean philosophy are held up to ridicule, may serve as an example.

Only consider what is said of the constitution and nature of the human soul itself, which is said to be composed of very well polished, the smoothest and the roundest atoms, and which are of the neatest fashion, and every way, you must suppose, the best conditioned the whole country could afford, of a more excellent make, as there is added, than those of the fire itself. And these are the things, you must know, which think, study, contemplate, frame syllogisms, make theorems, lay plots, contrive business, act the philosopher, the logician, the mathematician, statesman, and every thing else. . . . And now, because it is not to be thought that all atoms are rational (for then the stump of a tree or a bundle of straw might serve to make a soul of . . .), it is to be considered by which of those properties [mentioned], an atom shall be entitled to the privilege of being rational, and the rational atoms distinguished from the rest. . . . Epicureus would here have us believe that the least are fittest for this turn. . . . Here, sure, the fate is very hard of those that come nearest the size, but only by a very little too much corpulency, happen to be excluded as unworthy to be counted among the rational atoms. But sure, if all sober reason be not utterly lost and squandered away among these little entities, it must needs be judged altogether incomprehensible why, if, upon the account of mere littleness, any atom should be capable of reason, all should not be so, and then we could not but have a very rational world,' &c. &c.-Living Temple, vol. i. pp. 65, 66.

Of all folly, that which offers itself to the world in the garb of philosophy, is the most nauseous; nor is it easy to say, in what way, Howe could better have handled the absurdities of atheistical philosophers, than he did. But to answer a fool according to his folly, was a task from which, however lawful, his habitually devout and earnest mind recoiled. No sooner, therefore, is the painful work over, than he apologises for what he has done, pleading as an excuse, the necessity of the case, and the example of Elijah.

In point of style we accord to Taylor, as many of our readers will readily anticipate, a decided superiority. His sentences are

more rythmical and flowing, his combinations more diversified and happy, his expressions more distinct and transparent; and, though remarkably free from triteness and common place, he never seems at a loss for language, or to experience the least difficulty in bending it to his purpose. In all these respects, as well as in the smoothness of his transitions, he far surpasses Howe, whose words are often ill-chosen, and loosely thrown together. Howe's sentences, too, are many of them long, intricate, and unmusical; with parenthesis within parenthesis, and the several clauses thrown together, with so little subordination to each other or the leading idea, as to perplex and weary the reader. Taylor is often guilty of dividing and subdividing with unmerciful prolixity; but Howe not only equals him in this particular, but leaves the skeleton deformities of his method so prominent and bare, as greatly to interfere with the unity and beauty of his composition.

In Taylor's style, however, there is an affected mannerism and an occasional coarseness, from which Howe is altogether free. His antitheses and analogies are often strained beyond their power. When his imagination feels the breeze, not contented with crowding sail, he hoists such an array of gay flags to the wind, that we lose sight of the true signals of thought, amongst a number of flaunting colours and idle decorations. The formal manner in which he introduces a favourite figure, with the preliminary 'so have I seen,' 'so have I seen a lark,' 'so have I seen a river,'' so have I seen the pillars of a building,' not only stops the current of thought and feeling, but creates the unpleasant impression, that the preacher is thinking more of himself and his figures, than of the subject or of his hearers. In the midst of his most solemn musings and appeals, if an idle fancy, or some old monkish story, happens to cross his path, he breaks away after it with as little propriety, as if, in charging an enemy, he were to gallop off, in chase of a butterfly, from the field of battle. The way, too, in which he joins together a string of epithets, or the several members of a sentence, by a frequent repetition of the little particles or, but, or and, instead of weaving them into each other, or linking them differently together, has always appeared to us a considerable blemish in his style. We do not mean to say, that where the several epithets or clauses may require a distinct, emphatic utterance, a writer, or rather speaker, may not find an occasional advantage in such a repetition, provided it be done sparingly, and obviously with such a design. But in many of Taylor's sentences we find the particle 'and' repeated twelve or fifteen times; and in one, to which our attention is this moment accidentally turned, there are no less than twenty repetitions. It is when

he intends a climax, that he generally has recourse to this expedient. But, instead of mounting by a ladder of such rude construction, and by artificial steps all formed alike, it surely is a nobler thing to take the wings of the wind, and soar upward in a direct flight to the sky.

Barbarisms and new-coined words disfigure the works of both writers, in about an equal degree. But Howe's style, with all its faults, is remarkably free from affectation or self-conceit. The inartificial sentences, through which the mighty tide of thought rolls on, seem to tumble hither and thither, as carelessly as the waves of the sea; but, on that very account, they are frequently thrown, as if by chance, into shapes of great beauty and power. His expression is often redundant,or, at other times, defective and obscure; but no impertinent fancy, no childish allusion, or straining after effect, is ever suffered to disturb the steady movement of thought, or the irresistible earnestness of his appeals to the conscience or the heart. Whether he interrogates, argues, or expostulates, it is invariably with a most solemn and subduing effect, and as if God by him were saying, Come now and let us reason together.

Of all Taylor's works, his 'Ductor Dubitantium,' though less popular than his Holy Living and Dying,' his 'Liberty of Prophesying,' and a few others, was considered by himself, and we think justly, the greatest. Its object is to furnish a perfect system of casuistical theology, for the relief of conscience, under all the difficulties and dangers, whether speculative or practical, to which it may be exposed. It is less distinguished by dazzling imagery, than some of his other compositions, for he seems intentionally to have kept his fancy under rein; nor can a work, so casuistical, so minutely speculative, or so deeply tinctured with the political and ecclesiastical prejudices of the author, be regarded as one of great practical utility. But it contains a world of subtle thoughts, admirably expressed; and those who wish to see the vast range of Taylor's mind, or the chief excellencies of his style, will find them there: though that part of the preface in which he addresses Charles the Second, under the names of David and Job, and describes him as coming down, like Moses from the holy mount, with the two tables of the Law in his hands, to bless the people with his hallowed ministrations, is such a stretch of fancy, as Charles himself must have wondered or smiled to behold.

The same place which the 'Ductor Dubitantium' holds among the works of Taylor, is generally ascribed to the 'Living Temple' among the productions of Howe; and, considered simply as a stupendous monument of thought, it is perhaps entitled to the praise. We have always, however, deemed it a misfortune, that

the author should have chosen a figurative passage of Scripture, as the platform for a body of divinity, which he evidently intended that work to be. The necessity which he supposed himself under, of keeping up the figure through a long work, and at the same time, of pressing into his service all the scriptural allusions to a temple, however variously applied, has not only cramped his genius, but thrown him into a confusion of ideas, which no ingenuity, not even his own, could prevent. In this respect, Howe's 'Living Temple,' composed of a number of little temples, raised up from a pattern temple sown in the earth, has always appeared to us a far less beautiful and harmonious structure than the 'Spiritual House' of the apostle Peter, composed, not of living temples, but of 'living stones.' On this, as well as some other accounts, we cannot but regard the 'Blessedness of the Righteous,' 'Delighting in God,' 'Redeemer's Tears,' and the Vanity of Man as Mortal,' as more interesting, though perhaps less wonderful, displays of his genius.

With all his celebrity, few writers appear to have suffered more than Howe, from the careless manner in which his works have been issued from the press; nor can we withhold from the editor and publishers of the edition now before us, our cordial thanks for the pains which they have taken, to place the works of so unrivalled an author, in an intelligible shape before the world. It comprises all that remains of what was published during the life-time and with the concurrence of the writer; and the editor appears to have laboured, with very commendable care, to restore the text as closely as possible to its original state, placing in brackets every word which he has deemed it necessary to add. The punctuation Mr. Hewlett has avowedly taken upon himself; and, though we are not sure that such a liberty should be ventured on by any editor, with the writings of such a man as Howe, we cannot but regard Mr Hewlett's alterations, which sometimes amount to twenty or thirty in a page, as proofs of a very diligent concern to render the meaning of the author as intelligible as possible to the reader. If by this means he has taken from Howe the benefit, whatever it might be, of his own punctuation, he has certainly, on the other hand, done his author the justice of sweeping away a vast amount of dust and cobwebs, with which time or chance had obscured the beauty of his writings.

Instead of Calamy's Life of Howe, Mr. Hewlett has prefixed a brief memoir of his own, in which, though it is little more than an abstract of Calamy's Life, he has shown himself to be an interesting writer, and corrected several inaccuracies into which previous biographers have fallen. In Calamy's sketch, however, there is a freshness and truthfulness of tone and ex

pression, arising from his personal acquaintance with Howe and the times in which he lived, which none but a very extraordinary writer of the present day could be expected to equal; and on this account, as well as another which we feel bound to mention, we regret the editor's substitution of his own.

Though we should be extremely sorry to suspect a dissenting minister, either of not understanding or appreciating the nonconformity which he is employed to teach and of which Howe was so high an example, there are two or three paragraphs in Mr. Hewlett's Memoir, which we feel it extremely difficult otherwise to explain. In speaking of the privations to which Howe was driven by the Act of Uniformity, he tells us not that Howe was justified, but that he thought himself' justified in quitting the establishment. That Howe,' he adds in another place, was not in this or any later period what would be now termed a consistent Dissenter,' appears undeniably evident. His writings do not contain a single line in opposition to a national support of the ministers of Christ; nor does he seem, for himself, to have objected to the required forms and services of the Established Church.'-p. 18. And again, in speaking of Defoe's Controversy with Howe, he says, 'As a motto, Defoe had uncharitably, and indeed profanely, prefixed to his pamphlet the words of Elijah, If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal,' and in the course of the preface affirmed, that any member of a dissenting church who was known to commune with the church of England, ought not to be received in his own church again, but as a penitent! Alas, for poor human nature!'-p. 19.

With regard to Defoe, we can only say 'Alas!' for any dissenting minister who affects to pity him; nor is there any thing so deeply to be regretted, in the life of Howe, as that, by defending the occasional conformity of half-hearted dissenters with the church, he should have merited the rebuke of so faithful and disinterested a writer. In opposition to what Mr. Hewlett has asserted, we must beg to remind him that Howe did, at all hazards, renounce conformity for himself; and those who fairly examine the then existing state of the Establishment, will find it extremely difficult to censure the righteous indignation, against the occasional conformity of dissenters, expressed by Defoe. What was the church at that period, but a system of secular corruption, steeped in the tears and blood of men, of whom the world was not worthy? Amongst the persecutions which Howe himself had witnessed, he mentions the worst and most infamous of mankind, at our own expense, hired to accuse us; multitudes of perjuries committed, convictions made without a jury, and without any hearing of the persons accused; penalties