nerous minds his displeasure was punishment far more severe than the rod or the ferule.-As a Greek and Latin scholar he was equalled by few, excelled by none in the United States.* With the higher classics he was minutely and critically acquainted,-knew all their beauties, and could detect their faults.t Strongly attached to classical learning, from a firm conviction that it was alike necessary to make and to adorn the scholar, he uniformly maintained its excellence. In a season when the demon Innovation entered into a conspiracy with the demons Ignorance and Barbarism, to decry it in this country, he boldly stood forth in its defence, and had a great share in the honour of silencing its enemies.

Such were the vicissitudes and the labours of the long life of Dr. Andrews, and such were his virtues and his talents. Yet wonderful as it may appear, though prudent and economical, he never was able to raise himself above competency at any time

* In the summer of 1811, a Scotch gentleman, who had been the tutor of some of the first scholars of Edinburgh, and brought with him the most honourable testimonials of scholarship from Professor Dugald Stuart and others, offered himself as a candidate for the mastership of the grammar school in the academical department of the University. To enable Dr. A. to judge of his qualifications, an examination was agreed to. They met for that purpose, and the Scotchman displayed a wonderful acquaintance with the learned languages. Such was his knowledge of them, that he read them as fluently as an English scholar would a paper in the Spectator. Book was produced after book; nothing embarrassed him. At length Dr. A's accuracy detected a slip in quantity, in reading a line of one of the Latin Poets. He mentioned it. Mr. H-confessed. After a short pause, in which he looked not a little mortified, and Dr. A. quite as much distressed; "faith sir" said he, "y're right; yet let me tell ye, for мy consolation, there's no many scholars in Edinburg that could catch me in sic a blunder as ye hae done.”

† We have omitted to mention, in the proper place, that he was often engaged in correcting proofs of books, in which great accuracy was required, an occupation necessarily laborious, but rendered less so by the skill which he had acquired from practice. Some years since, he prepared and published a compendium of logick for the use of the students in the University, which has since been introduced into many of the colleges of the U. S. so as to call for a second edition, which was printed in 1807. He fo und leisure also to make a compendium of moral philosophy, which was in the press at the time of his death, and has been published since.

of his life, still less to lay up a store on which he might rely for the reasonable comforts of old age!-a sad and discouraging example to men who devote themselves to the sacred office of the ministry and to the all-important duties of instructors of youth! Surely society is deeply interested in affording them a better reward.-But if he did not abound in wealth, he was affluent in the virtues and the excellencies which dignify and adorn the man and the christian; and has securely "laid up for himself treasures in Heaven where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal."

As an additional testimony in favour of the character portrayed in the pre ceding article, furnished by a former pnpil and friend of the deceased, we have obtained the following brief extract from his Funeral Sermon.

Extract from a Sermon on the death of the Rev. John Andrews, D. D. preached in St. James's and St. Peter's churches, April 3d, 813, the Sunday after his decease, by James Abercrombie, D. D. senior assistant minister of Christ church, St. Peter's, and St. James's.

Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his. Numbers, 23 chap. 10 ver.

After opening the text, and delineating the character of the truly righteous man, and the consolation experienced by him at the close of life, the preacher proceeded thus:

"A very recent and striking exemplification of the truth and efficacy of these principles has been exhibited in the dissolution of a venerable, reverend, and valuable member of this congregation; whom we shall no more see in his accustomed place, devoutly engaged in the service of the Sanctuary, and exhibiting an undeviating pattern of propriety in his deportment, while within these sacred walls; by always kneeling during the prayers, audi. bly repeating the responses, attentively listening to the instruction conveyed, and embracing every opportunity of testifying his fidelity to the divine Author of our religion, by celebrating, at that table, the commemoration of his atonement, "for us men, and for our salvation."

* Dr. Andrews was a pewholder in St. James's church.

Yes, brethren, to our departed brother the arrest of death was the commission of a friendly messenger, to unlock the fetters of mortality-to snatch him from the infirmities and miseries of extreme old age-and give him his passport to the regions of eternal day.

O! blessed exchange of worlds!the state of reward, for the state of trial-the weaknesses, imperfections, and sufferings of this feeble, perishable body, for the expansive energy, the incorruptible purity of a spiritual and celestial body-the uncer tainty, ignorance, and errors of humanity, for the pure intelligence, the seraphic delights of angels-the rude collisions of passion and self-interest, in the petty competitions of contending mortals, for the rapturous congratulations of our dear, departed, relatives and friends, who have " died in the Lord," and gone before us to the mansions of felicity and rest-the darkness, the dangers, the miseries of this wilderness of sin and sorrow, for the animating light, the invigorating exhilaration of eternal day, in the boundless regions of Immortality-the heavenly Jerusalem-the Paradise of God! And, that this has been the experience of our departed brother, the uniform tenor of his life, and his constant preparation, by penitence and prayer, for admission into a better world, prohibit the possibility of doubt. "Blessed are the dead," saith Christ, "who die in the Lord, for labours, and their works do follow them." latives and friends, his removal is a severe, an irreparable loss; of which, an intimate and cordial intercourse of near thirty years, authorizes me, with sorrow-with anguish, to declare my experience.

they rest from their To his surviving re

The loss of such a friend most deeply lacerates the human heart, and forcibly bursts one of the strongest bands of attachment to this present world; where our rational pleasures are so few, our real comforts so evanescent, so sparsely scattered.

"Uncommon worth," says the pious Dr. Watts, "forsaking this world, strikes all the powers of nature with sentiments of honour and of grief, and the hand and the heart consent to raise a monument of love and sorrow." His call was sudden, but not surpris ing; as the composure of his last moments, when sensible of the arrest of death, and the smiling and placid serenity of his countenance, after death, abundantly testified.

Having through life made the Holy Scriptures the criterion of his faith and his conduct, he was comforted by the consolations they impart-he was animated by the promises they proclaim. The bright examples they record of virtues exercised, and precepts practised, were the frequent subjects of his praise-the models of his imitation. Pious without austerity, and devout without ostentation, he endeavoured, like Enoch, to walk with God-like David, to set the Lord always before him—like Moses, to endure as seeing him who is invisible—and, like the great Apostle of the Gentiles, to keep the faith and to finish his course with joy. Hence, when his period of probation expired, he could justly exclaim with good old Simeon, Lord! now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; or, with the confidence of expiring Stephen, Lord Jesus! receive my spirit.

The chamber where the good man meets his fate,
Is privileged beyond the common walk

Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of Heav'n.
Fly, ye profane! If not, draw near with awe;
Receive the blessing and adore the chance
That throws in this Bethesda your disease.
If unrestored by this, despair your cure;
For here resistless demonstration dwells
A death-bed's a detector of the heart.
Here real and apparent are the same.
You see the man.

You see his hold on Heav'n,

Young's Night Thoughts.

Well then may each of us say "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his."

CRITICISM.-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

CUM TABULIS ANIMUM CENSORIS SUMET HONESTI.-Hor.

The Works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq. with notes. To which are prefixed, sketches of his life, character and writings. J. Belcher, Boston, 8vo. pp. 464.

To speak of an author now dead, and whose works have excited so much approbation when living, in any other terms than those of panegyric, is a thankless and delicate office. It will be difa

ficult for those who enroll themselves in the catalogue of his warm admirers, to believe that we are governed by any other than by sinister motives. Such considerations would have affected us once and probably doomed us to the alternative of speaking in approbation, or of maintaining a resolute silence. We say that they would probably once have been attended with these difficulties, because we know they will have no such influence now. We have been too well acquainted with that species of literary partiality, to view it in any other light than that of silent indifference.

With these prefatory remarks, we propose to offer some observations on the volume now under consideration. The poems are preceded by a biography of the author, evidently from the pen of surviving friendship, where the foibles of the deceased are touched with a delicacy such sensations are so peculiarly calculated to inspire, and where the excellencies either of his page or of his life are emblazoned with a fond and aggravating tenderness. Soberly to compare Mr. Paine with Dryden can surely answer no other purpose than to humble the object of his admiration. The reader of Dryden feels himself thrown, as it were, into a mass of intellect, where, whether conviction follow or not, he is amused by a perpetual novelty, by the incessant flashing of various lights, some of them showing the object in its proper point of vision, some of them dazzling and confounding to the eye, but all of them rich, brilliant, and beautiful.Dryden manifests an impatience, too often the concomitant of exuberant genius, to proceed to something else, and is evidently annoyed that his present conceptions detain him so long. He therefore throws them down in hasty half formed lines, hurries on to the next, and his greatest exertion is not to write, but to stop. From this cause originates what has been called the boundless variety of his melody. Had he laboured with the same painful industry, his lines would probably have retained the monotonous melody of Pope. This is not by any means the character of Mr. Paine; it is distinctly this, his conceptions are brilliant, but he pursues them in the same trait until he despoils them of their brilliancy. His first blows are generally powerful, but every repetition weakens their force until they die