Mr. Robinson was eminently a sincere man: though I have sometimes doubted, whether his sagacity and talent for management did not tempt him to infringe a little upon simplicity. If the sure touchstone, the arduous and difficult test of honesty, inflexible perseverance, be applied to his religious profession; the gold will shine forth brilliantly. Forty years of public life spent under the view of many keen eyes, listening ears, and wide-opened tongues, without a single imputation fastened upon his integrity-sameness of character, sameness of testimony, sameness of habit and walk-must be allowed to proclaim of him beyond all possibility of evil surmise, “This man was what he seemed."

His teachings

What he said

were animated by this spirit. he felt not generally only, but in each sermon, and in each topic of his sermon and in the remarks of his graver conversation. He was also careful to preserve great strictness of veracity in his professions of personal regard. I do not believe that he ever over-stepped the bounds of truth in them. The regard, which he either said, or gave you reason to believe, that he pos

sessed--he did possess. He was not a man of fair speeches and illusive promises; but weighed his words, and kept behind rather than outran his feelings. I am not certain that he might not sometimes give occasion to suspect his faithfulness, by being the friend of two parties which were not friendly to each other: but he was honestly the friend of both, in all these cases, and thought he could serve both, yea was serving both. It is slippery ground— a man must have great skill, and marvellous command of heart and tongue, who can walk uprightly on these hot ashes. I believe he did contrive to preserve his integrity even in these difficult conflicts, though he had occasionally "the appearance of the likeness" of duplicity and artifice. He meant to do good, he thought he was doing good: but there is great danger of fomenting vanity, self-deception and self-confidence in all such transactions, and they often raise a suspicion in one or both of the parties more immediately concerned, that the middle man is unsound.

Mr. Robinson was stedfast in his principles, feelings and habits.

He once told me, that he was not aware of having changed a single point in his religious system since he commenced his ministry. He saw many things more clearly, and could trace their connection more hármoniously, but his outline was the same. The principle pervaded his whole, mechanism. One year, one month, one day, was with him the counterpart of another; bringing with it much the same degree of ardour, much the same degree of activity, much the same sense of divine things, much of the same impressions from without. I do not know that he ever permanently lost the friendship of a living friend. If we look on the varied scenes in which he was called to act-if we regard the morbid mind as well as morbid body we are heirs to if we take into our account the influence of politics, neighbourhood, kindred, whisperings, parish-matters-it is more than we could expect, that he should never have had a shyness with any whom he had known and loved as dear friends. But I think I can undertake to say that, if distances and separations did from time to time intervene where there had been union, there was, on

his part, no want of cordial esteem and affection towards those whom he had once held more fast, trusted in more deeply, and conversed with more familiarly. His outside was not always his inside, in this better kind of dissimulation. He cherished in his bosom those whom his eyes seldom saw, whom his hands seldom pressed, and whom his lips seldom welcomed.

Mr. Robinson possessed much of what he greatly coveted, always strongly enforced upon, others, and often made the subject of his conversation and prayers-composure. His breast was not often ruffled: it was a rare thing indeed to see him agitated. In the pulpit, I do not say he never wanted a word, but he never manifested the least embarrassment, nor do I believe that he often felt it. In conversation-in debate-on sudden emergencies, or on difficult occasions for which he had prepared himself―you generally saw still waters, a stream of affections which flowed temperately and equably, neither outrunning his judgment nor distracting his efforts; neither stopping his mouth, nor confusing his expressions; neither impairing his comfort, nor diminishing

his usefulness. Could he say too much in praise of this temper? O how many injuries have been done to our Master's cause, through the want of it! His more than ordinary measure of it arose very much from that last property which I shall ascribe to his heart,

say

Self-government. To that he had no evil affections, would be to unman him. He had the seed of every vice in him, as well as his neighbour. But he did not allow these seeds to spring up in their rankness. He watched and prayed, he believed and strove that "the old man might die in him, and that the new man might live and reign in him." "He sowed not to his flesh but to the spirit:" "through the spirit he mortified the deeds of the body." He had that great property of a general, he knew his enemy's force, as well as his own: he had put good armour on, and knew how to use it. You might see some of his faults, if you searched for themsometimes perhaps without search—but, in general, he kept under his body" of sin, "and brought it into subjection:" and, when you came soberly to consider him and to

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