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of these early visits, it is well known that Dr. Channing's shyness towards the Unitarians of this country had left a painful impression upon many minds. It was thought ungenerous that he should form his opinion of them from avowed political and religious opponents, and that he should not see and feel for the social disadvantages against which they have to contend, while he agreed and sympathized with them in broad and most important principles. Mr. Ware came, it appears, with the resolution to throw himself into intimate converse with the brethren and the churches of his own faith. He saw Southey in his retirement at the Lakes. He endeavoured to gain from Southey some satisfaction as to the nature and grounds of the unfavourable impressions which he is supposed to have made upon Dr. Channing's mind. But nothing satisfactory, judging from this Memoir,* was elicited. Mr. Ware was far too unwell to enter our pulpits. He attended, however, the anniversary meeting of the British and Foreign Unitarian Association in 1829. The state of his health prevented his addressing the meeting; but on that occasion a paper expressive of his sympathy with its objects and his good-will towards his English brethren was put into the hands of the Chairman and read. He took every opportunity of shewing how much his heart was with them. It was in their homes that he unburthened his spirit, and that he found the congeniality and solace that he loved. And when he returned to England in the summer of 1830, after his visit to the Continent, less improved in health than he had hoped, with a beloved wife and an infant born to him in Rome, demanding themselves the greatest care, he received attentions gladly paid, and more than repaid by the sweet impressions which he left, and by the grateful and warm regard which to the last he continued to express. Of that visit to England in 1830, we have been somewhat disappointed to find not a word recorded in the Memoir. We are persuaded it was a time of deep and, in some respects, painful interest to Mr. Ware. The absence of such a record detracts not in the least from the value and faithfulness of the Memoir to the general reader-and we know it has been prepared amidst distracting professional engagements and the depression of ill health; but it is striking to ourselves, because it happens to be the time associated most strongly with the memory of a departed friend, when he was often seen, and more loved and more admired as he was more seen. It is among the sorrows of the past for us, now that he is removed from earthly intercourse, and has "passed on" to the rewards of his great exertions and the fulfilment of his high and glorious aspirations, that we did not seize more eagerly and use more faithfully the opportunities of communion with his spirit which his subsequent animated and cheerful correspondence might have afforded. But we repeat that, in our estimation, Mr. Ware laid the foundation of that happy and cordial and improving intercourse which has taken place between the members of our churches and our distinguished visitors from the States. He sent to us Dewey, to "wake the echoes," as he expressed it, of our chapels. He provided Gannett with his hearty welcome. He caused us to renew, in the visit of Dr. Tuckerman and his admirable friend Philips, the memory of his own sweet virtues. Many others could we name with pleasure, who, though nameless, are not forgotten.

* See the account of a second visit to Southey, p. 275 of the Memoir.

We owe him, therefore, a debt of gratitude which will last with our lives. He was not only loveable in himself, but the cause of love towards many others. The rock of nature once touched with a divine rod, the fountain of feeling once opened, the water continues to flow in a perennial stream, every where blessing and every where refreshing; and thus it is the glorious attribute of goodness to propagate and extend itself by a natural imperceptible influence. In a sense superior to that which the poet intended, "Virtue thus sets forth and magnifies herself."

But the portion of Mr. Ware's life and influence to which we have now alluded, blends naturally with all the rest of his history. It is in perfect harmony with all the tendencies of his life. His whole heart and soul were devoted to the promotion of rational religion, of Christian faith, as he understood and felt it. In this, his natural inclinations and dispositions were only assisted by his intellectual convictions and moral principles and feelings. No man did so much as Mr. Ware,— we have been assured by competent and candid judges, over and over again,—no man did so much as Mr. Ware, to strengthen the churches attached to the Unitarian faith, and to build up the members thereof in the spirit and power of practical religion. He was ever ready to labour in the cause, -to lead or to follow, as present usefulness decided his position. He appears to us, in most essential respects, the perfect model of the minister and the pastor for all the churches; and he is so because he saw so clearly and felt so strongly the true and important connection between the pastoral duties and the influences of the pulpit. On this point we have a strong conviction that Mr. Ware was eminently right. We hold that a minister's influence out of the pulpit ought not to be considered merely secondary to that which he exerts in it. He is not to depend upon fine preaching alone, or good preaching in the truest sense, for the building up of a Christian people in Christian virtues. He must draw them onwards and upwards by "the cords of love and the bands of a man ;" and he must do this by making them feel that his mind and heart are with them at other times than when engaged in his strictly professional and peculiar tasks; by making them feel a common interest in the same objects-namely, in the ways and means of individual, mutual and social improvement; by uniting himself with their pleasures and their pains, increasing the one and soothing the other; and by identifying himself in this way with an interest and an influence, more or less close and practical, with the sustenance and growth of their true, moral, spiritual and earnest life. We have a great fear-right or wrong, we know not-but the intimation will be received as it is meant-we greatly fear that few of our ministers in this country are impressed with this truth as they should be. There is not that cordial union between themselves and their people which a clearer recognition of mutual duties and mutual interests would create. The ministry, as a mere profession for preaching, and for keeping a body of hearers, not worshipers, together by the force and interest of preaching alone, appears to us one of the idlest of all vanities-most uncomfortable and wearying to the preacher himself, who can have no assurance that he is establishing solid principle, strengthening kind affection, and stimulating holy exertion in his hearers, however much he may be gratifying their appetite and itching ears by swelling words or ingenious speculations; and also most profit

less to the hearers, who are thus too dependent on temporary stimulus for emotions and resolutions, which they should bring and impart, as well as crave and receive. The views with which Mr. Ware entered upon his ministry are thus given in the sixth chapter of the Memoir :

"He began his ministry full of plans for usefulness, and eager in the search of means for improving the religious character of those who were placed under his charge. Among his earliest duties, as he conceived, was to form a personal acquaintance with all the members of his parish and their families; to learn their condition, to interest himself in their affairs, and especially in their children. He considered it as very important not only to form, but to keep up this acquaintance by an intimate and sufficiently frequent intercourse. He had a decided opinion of the value of this relation of a clergyman to his people. He felt that it gave him a hold on their minds, which imparted double force to the instructions of the pulpit. He thought that he ought to be so familiar with them, and with their characters and concerns, that he should be regarded by them as a friend, who rejoiced with them when they rejoiced, and mourned with them when they mourned. He well knew that the same teaching on the Sabbath, which would fall powerless from the lips of a stranger, would enter deeply into hearts that were warmed and opened to the speaker by the holy sympathies of a personal Christian intercourse. No doubt the constant pressure of other occupations, the great variety of calls which were made on his time and attention, both in and out of his parish, and the very uncertain and languid state of his health, which so often made the requisite bodily exertion a great effort, prevented him from acting up to his intentions in this particular, and from accomplishing what he regarded as the full measure of his duty. He often felt and expressed something like self-reproach at what he feared had been his remissness in this respect. Still, even in the degree in which he was able to follow out his convictions, he found reason to believe that his personal intercourse contributed very much to his usefulness as a minister, and to the efficacy of his preaching.

"He was especially attentive in times of sickness and affliction; judging that at such seasons right impressions are most likely to be made, good influences received, and an interest excited in religion. But he was not forward, in his parochial visits (I speak from the statements of a highly esteemed member of his parish), to introduce religion as a subject of conversation, at any rate and as a matter of course, without regard to the proprieties of the occasion. 'He never was in the habit of forcing the conversation to take a religious turn; but he was ever ready to allow it to do so.' Religious impressions were the indirect, and not the direct, purpose of his familiar visits. He had no air of formality in the houses of his parishioners, or in their sick chambers. He did not talk much, or harangue, on subjects of consolation. A few words of interest or of comfort, a few suggestions, in a mild manner and a gentle tone of voice, were all that he usually indulged in. Indeed, he felt great reluctance at the expression of feelings of any intensity; and so great was the difficulty in bringing himself to it, that he was sometimes deterred from visiting, in cases of very deep distress, from the feeling of utter incapacity to express in words any thing of that sympathy which he felt."-Pp. 97, 98.

His theory of a Christian church or society was the true one; and it is thus expressed in a report made by a committee formed, at his suggestion, to consider and carry into effect plans to increase the prosperity of the church, to promote its religious influence and power of doing good, by giving it a more social aspect, and to use means for creating sympathy and securing co-operation among its members:

"The great principle, on which the prosperity and edification of the church must depend, appears to your committee to have been entirely overlooked in the general habits of all the churches with which we are connected.

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the principle of association, union, sympathy, co-operation. The church is, in its very essence, an association. Its very design and constitution is to effect the purposes of personal improvement, and to extend the influence of religion, by mutual counsel, aid, and co-operation. Hence, the Apostles emphatically call it one body, and its members, members one of another.

"If this be forgotten, and, instead of a constant union in worship and action, Christians only meet infrequently at the table of the Lord, this primary purpose is lost sight of, and it cannot, therefore, be expected that the greatest religious prosperity should be attained. When Jesus framed the model of his church, he in a manner set the example, the first example, of that union by systematic association, which has since extended so far, and has wrought such powerful effects in the world. Is it, then, consistent, that the church should be the first to relinquish this principle? And must it not be expected to become weak and inefficient by abandoning it, just in proportion as it first ⚫ became strong by adhering to it? Let us, then, henceforth resolve to regard this church as an association, actually and actively united for the accomplishment of religious and benevolent purposes.'

"The result of this attempt was not only an increased activity, zeal, and religious interest in the church, but the gradual accumulation, by voluntary contributions, of a fund, which was at length sufficient for the erection of a spacious and commodious vestry.”—Pp. 158, 159.

There is no earthly satisfaction to the Christian minister, deeply solicitous for the results of his labours, equal to that of seeing the members of his flock exerting themselves steadily in paths of beneficence and usefulness, and of witnessing living proof of the value of the principles which he inculcates in the practical excellencies by which -whether old or young, in their business, in their families, in habits and conversation and tastes - his hearers are distinguished. Mr. Ware reaped the reward of his fidelity in the rapid increase and prosperity of his congregation. He was ordained Pastor over the Second Church in Boston in the beginning of the year 1816, in the 22nd year of his age. His services at first attracted no particular attention and made no strong impression. His reputation as a preacher was slow in its growth, and stole upon him in a gradual manner. It came to him at last as a sort of discovery, to his own surprise, and as to the degree of it, indeed, to the surprise of many of his friends. It is a very just observation of his biographer, that there is an advantage in beginning with such moderate success; and we agree with him, that

"A young person can hardly enter upon life with any circumstance so unfavourable to his ultimate reputation and usefulness, as highly-raised expectations. Many a worthy man has broken down under the burden of a reputation in advance. He must have more than ordinary qualities, who can survive it. It is better the world should wonder that it has not heard of a new candidate for its attention before, than that it should wonder why it has heard so much."-P. 89.

Unhappily, in a very few years Mr. Ware's health broke down under his great and various labours. He formed societies for mutual religious improvement. He established Sunday-evening services for the poor, which gave the first idea of what afterwards became the "Ministy at Large," as it was called, and led to the Domestic Missions now so general in connection with our churches. He became the Editor of the Christian Disciple, the early numbers of which were of great excellence and success, the work which has since been succeeded by the Christian Examiner, and distinguished by the contributions of Chan

ning, Norton, Dewey, Greenwood, Gannett, and others. He was Foreign Secretary to the American Unitarian Association, formed in the same year, 1825, with the British and Foreign. He planned a new Theological School, thinking that a noble one could be formed by a union of the Unitarians with the sect called Christians. He gave lectures on the Geography and Natural History of Palestine, confined at first to his own parishioners, for the purpose of giving them more distinct views of Scripture facts, but afterwards delivered to a mixed audience in the Athenæum at Boston. By these lectures he hoped to raise two thousand dollars, which he meant to devote to the education of young men for the ministry at Cambridge, U. S. He had raised 1200, when he was suddenly interrupted, in the midst of his zealous and earnest course, by events which suspended his labours and changed the aspect of his future life. A journey to Northampton in cold and wet, attended with fatigue and exposure, brought on a severe attack of fever, which ended in inflammation of the lungs of the most alarming character, attended by copious hemorrhage, and followed by extraordinary emaciation, tenuity and feebleness. Yet even in this state, when partially reviving, his mind and pen were busy. His friends were planning for him the Professorship of Pulpit Eloquence and the Pastoral Care; and he wrote this sweet poetical epistle to his wife, when journeying slowly homewards, a shaken and shattered man:

"TO MARY.

"Dear Mary, 'tis the fourteenth day
Since I was parted from your side;
And still upon my lengthening way
In solitude I ride;

But not a word has come to tell
If those I left at home are well.

"I am not of an anxious mind,
Nor prone to cherish useless fear;
Yet oft methinks the very wind
Is whispering in my ear,
That many an evil may take place
Within a fortnight's narrow space.

""Tis true indeed; disease and pain
May all this while have been your lot;
And, when I reach my home again,
Death may have marked the spot.
I need but dwell on thoughts like these,
To be as wretched as I please.'

"But no,-a happier thought is mine;
The absent, like the present scene,
Is guided by a Friend Divine,
Who bids us wait serene

The issues of that gracious will,
Which mingles good with every ill.

"And who should feel this tranquil trust
In that Benignant One above,-
Who ne'er forgets that we are dust,
And rules with pitying love,-
Like us, who both have just been led
Back from the confines of the dead?

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