rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep." There was in his whole demeanour such unaffected mildness, such engaging attention, such overflowing benignity, that scarcely any individual of the multitude with whom he was occasionally conversant, could regard him without something of filial affection. Is there a single man in this assembly which I now address, whose heart does not bear witness to this part of his character? I speak not of those who were honoured with his intimate friendship, and shared his peculiar confidence— whose agitated hearts, at this instant attest, what a fatal rent has been made in their soul's dearest happiness-I speak of us, who were too far removed in years and situation to share that high privilege of all of us, who partook at any time of his instructions, or submitted our progress in learning to his investigation. Can we ever forget his patience, his mildness, his condescension? Can we forget, that he devoted every faculty of his vigorous mind to direct, to support, to encourage our first feeble steps in the paths of science, and enable us to penetrate with him the secret recesses of truth? And during the whole laborious progress, did we ever meet from him a rebuke, or even a discouraging look to damp our youthful hopes? Did he not regard us with the tender solicitude of a friend and a father? I remember well the first time his venerable figure caught my attention. It was in the temple of God, while he was employed in dispensing religious instruction to the younger students, of whom I was one. I had stepped in by accident, but having once heard his instructions, I was afterwards almost irresistibly compelled to return to listen to them-so attractive was his mildness, his condescension; so evidently did he show, even to the giddiness of youth, the importance of attending to the evidence and the truths of religion.

Would that I had possessed the foresight, to record and preserve for my own use, the treasures of religious knowledge which he then dispensed. But I never shall forget, that he honoured me with his notice; that he spoke of me favourably to a brother, that he ever since treated me with uniform kindness; and never can I cease to regret his removal as a heavy loss, and

*Rom. xii. 15.

to regard his memory with heartfelt veneration. We may have heard of literary characters more celebrated, public men more enterprising and distinguished; but I will venture to assert, that we scarcely ever found a man, whose judgment was more solid, whose labours were more useful, or whose life was more conformable to the spirit of Gospel faith and Gospel morality.

Thus did he pass through this world (full as it is of guilt and pollution) "blameless and harmless,"* exhibiting for a course of years a living proof, how respectable, how amiable, how blessed is virtue-unmixed, unostentatious, genuine Christian virtue. Mild, affable and condescending, sincere, humble, pious and benevolent, the promoter of science, the lover of truth, the support of academic order and discipline, the prop and stay of this important seminary,-respected in manhood, revered in age, deplored in death-his tomb will be crowned with the wreath of learning, and his memory consecrated by the gratitude of virtue.

One word more and I have done. Let us not suppose, my brethren, that we have fulfilled all that such an occasion as this requires, by resting in vain lamentations, and indulging the indolence of dejection. No, we have to perform important duties to the University, and to ourselves.

This useful institution, deprived of its venerable guardian and governor, has sustained a loss, I will not say irreparable, but such as, to repair it, calls for the united exertions of all who possess any interest or any influence in its prosperity. We have undoubtedly the strongest confidence in the paternal care of our gracious Sovereign, that our loss in this most important point will be supplied by an appointment as nearly as possible similar to the last an appointment calculated, like that, to reward academic merit, encourage academic exertion, promote amongst us order, tranquillity, and religion, and banish far from this venerable seminary, political contest, and political intrigue. But suppose such an appointment were this instant decided on, it would still be incumbent upon all who bear any part in this important institution, to double their usual efforts for preserving its discipline, animating its exertions, and sustaining its reputa

* Phil. ii. 15.

tion, for much are all endangered, deprived as they are by the late deplorable event, of their surest support.

Such, my academic brethren, is our peculiar duty. But as rational and accountable beings, as men and Christians, I would entreat all who hear me, to propose to themselves his life, whose loss we this day mourn, as the model of their own-to imitate those virtues we cannot but approve—to transfuse into their own hearts, a portion of that spirit we have in him contemplated and revered.

Study, then, my fellow-Christians, study to attain that sincerity and singleness of heart, which was the basis of his venerable character. Study to detach yourself from worldly-mindedness and ambition; to pursue like him your duty; and to look to God for your reward. Learn, like him, to think humbly of your merits and attainments, to avoid the jealousy of rivalship, and that bitterness of contention which springs from selfishness and is nurtured by pride. Learn from him steady integrity, rational piety, and Christian benevolence. So shall you live like him, respected of men, and die like him, approved of God. That we all may so live, and so close our lives that we 'may die the death of the righteous, and that our last end may be like his,"-may God of his infinite mercy grant, through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom, with thee, oh! Father, and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, now, and for ever.

66

581

SERMON XLIX.

ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. WILLIAM COTTER, JUNIOR FELLOW T.C.D.

[Preached in the Chapel of said College, January 25, 1801; and published in compliance with the request of a number of the Students; who were anxious that by this means," some lasting memorial should remain of their affection for the late Mr. Cotter, and of their regret for his being so suddenly snatched from amongst them ;" and who thought" that such a memorial would be a consolation to his friends, grateful to the public, and useful to the University."]

JEREMIAH, XIII. 16.

"Give glory to the Lord your God, before He cause darkness, and before your feet stumble upon the dark mountains, and while ye look for light, He turn it into the shadow of death."

SUCH was the awful warning of the prophet to those careless sinners, who, elated with prosperity and confiding in its continuance, despised the commandments and provoked the judgments of God. Such is the awful warning which at this serious and interesting moment I would impress on this audience-an audience of young men-young men probably full of spirits and of hope; looking forward with undoubted confidence to length of years, during which they count on unabated spirits, undiminished strength, unceasing prosperity, uninterrupted enjoyment. A length of years which they determine to devote to gaiety and to pleasure, as far as can be reconciled to their worldly advancement; in which they hope to secure fame, and wealth, and power, as the means of multiplying their pleasures and securing their happiness; but in which they have not formed any serious plan, any fixed resolution "To give glory to the Lord their God;" to refer their conduct to his law; to study his sacred word; to cultivate, above every other knowledge, the knowledge of his will; and to seek above every other prize the reward of his favour. No, this makes no part, or but a very accidental part, of the objects, which young men generally pursue. In their

gayer hours they hunt for pleasure; in their serious, they labour for honours and for wealth. Eminence and fame amongst men are their only objects, human opinions their only guide. PRAYER; alas! they scarcely ever pray, it is too serious an employment for their gay and thoughtless years; besides, they dread no dangers against which they need implore protection; they feel no weakness which requires support; they look forward to no vicissitudes, for which they are not prepared. Repentance-it is time enough to think of that when a death-bed forces it. And Death!-it were preposterous to damp their pleasures by the gloomy idea, till old age brings it near.

Is not this, my young friends, the way in which you feel? Are not these the principles on which you act? Nay, are there none worse than this? Are there none, who never consider so seriously, or look forward (so far as I have supposed them to do,) to the preservation of character, and the establishment of their fortune even in this world? Are there none who consume day after day in idleness and folly; night after night in riot and drunkenness? Are there none who drain to the very dregs the poisoned bowl of intemperance, and who embrace the pestilential contagion of impurity, and who yet fear no evil, and think not one moment of disease or death? Alas! my young friends," I wish not, God knows I wish not, causelessly to censure your conduct; unnecessarily to wound your feelings. Few, I trust, there are, thus lost to all thought, all virtue, and all shame. Few, very few, who thus fearlessly and audaciously pursue the paths of infamy and death. The great majority of you, I know, are gay, thoughtless, inconsiderate; but yet, ingenuous, innocent, well-meaning. But if one, a single one amongst you were in danger, even a remote and possible danger, of thus sinking into guilt, it were criminal in the minister of God, if he did not, on that melancholy event which so recently has made a deep impression on every, even the most unfeeling, mind-it were criminal in the minister of God, if, when your attention was thus roused, and your hearts thus softened, he did not lift his voice to warn you of the precipice on which you stand; to tell you what is true as holy writ, that God, who is "About your path, and about your bed, and spieth out all your ways "*—that HE

* Psalm, cxxxix. 2, Common Prayer-book.