West, he was well prepared to appreciate for himself, and to communicate to others, the truth as it is in Jesus. Both in Antioch and in Constantinople the whole community were thrilled with his power. He could preach every day, for weeks, without flagging.* Sometimes he composed his discourses with care, oftener he spoke extemporaneously, or with comparatively brief meditation, though all the time devoted to study and prayer. With some errors of opinion on collateral matters, and some superstitious fancies, his views of God, of Christ, and of human destiny are grand and comprehensive, and his whole soul burning with love and zeal. His language is easy and pliant, sometimes homely and quaint, though mainly rich and picturesque, perhaps diffuse, and occasionally gorgeous.

But the style of preaching in that early age was very different from what it is now. Two or three presbyters often spoke, the one after the other, the bishop summing up the whole. Though greatly revered by the people, the preachers were earnest, familiar, and even vehement. They spoke either from the steps of the altar, or from the ambo, a platform with a reading-desk in the centre of the church, sometimes sitting, at others standing, moving about, gesticulating with energy, and pressing towards their hearers as if they would take them by storm. To this the people responded by crowding towards the preacher, and giving vent to their varying emotions by audible signs, so that preacher and people were obviously agitated by the same thought, feeling, and impulse. The discourses were brief and practical, full of energy and pathos. This gave Chrysostom great advantages. Free and familiar, yet devout and dignified, his whole soul on fire, and though ever correct and even elegant in his speech, yet often careless and homely, he permitted the fire to burn pretty much as it pleased, and gave utterance to his high thoughts and fervid emotions in natural but powerful forms, now intense as a seven-heated furnace, and then flashing and blazing like fires among the mountains. Imagine for a moment that dark Syrian visage, lofty forehead, and eagle eye, instinct with the fire of heaven, and a voice of unequalled compass and power, now soft and thrilling as a flute, and then loud and resonant as a trumpet; while the excitable multitude who throng the church of St. Sophia are subdued to reverence and awe, or thrilled to penitence and

Most of his discourses however were brief and practical homilies, or fervid appeals, not much exceeding fifteen or twenty minutes in length. They rarely go beyond thirty minutes.

tears. Thought, feeling, impulse, utterance, have a common life, a common aim. Soul and body, preacher and people, for the moment, are one. In a word, it is the triumph of spirit and form, of inspiration and eloquence.

Like Plato and Bunyan, Chrysostom is equally at home in the natural and spiritual spheres. Hence the frequency and freshness of his metaphors and similes, in which all things spiritual acquire an outward life and shape, striking and harmonious as nature herself. Thus, to neglect the soul and pamper the body, is to clothe the mistress in sackcloth and array the servant in gold and jewels! The mind of a good man is a palace which he ought sedulously to keep and beautify, thus rendering it more glorious than all external structures. Ignorance of the Scriptures is an awful, headlong steep, a deep abyss. The Word of God is a living fountain by the wayside, in which the dust-soiled traveller may wash and refresh himself. An irritable man he compares to a brawling street, while a peaceful one he likens to a sweet rural solitude. To care for riches and neglect the soul, is to act like children, who, when the thief steals the valuables of the house, cry out because their trinkets are gone! A selfish prayer is like a noisy scold, against which the doors of heaven are shut, while the supplication of meekness and humility is an angel form that seraphs welcome to the throne of God. The conversion of men to the cross of Christ is a miracle of grace, for it is as if to some one tempest-tossed and longing for a haven, you were to show, not a haven, but a wilder portion of the sea; or as if a physician should attract to himself the man that was wounded and in need of remedies, by promising to cure him, not with drugs, but by a fresh and deeper wound. Unbelief is a demon to be thrust down to hell, while faith is a winged angel rising to God and glory. Charity is an industrious bee, twice blessed, because it gathers the sweets from every flower and deposits them in the heart of him that loveth. A charitable man is an open port, receiving the shipwrecked of every nation. A long-suffering one is an impregnable tower, easily beating off all annoyances; "And as a spark falling into the deep doth it no injury, but is itself easily quenched, so upon a long-suffering soul, whatever unexpected thing falls, it speedily vanishes, without ever disturbing the soul."

But we must not dwell longer on Chrysostom, attractive as the subject is; we will linger however a few moments upon that modern Chrysostom, as he has been called, the fervid Chalmers, who in the style of his preaching offers as

striking a combination of spirit and form as can be found in the range of pulpit literature. More analytic than Chrysostom, ranging over a wider field of thought, and indulging in a more compact and systematic style of argument, Chalmers has the same depth and generosity of nature, the same brilliancy of imagination and force of appeal. Never brief and extemporaneous like Chrysostom, and in no case descending to his easy and colloquial style, he sweeps to his aim, with an energy like that of some huge but compact vessel before the blast, dashing, careering, and plunging, but evermore erect and beautiful, and steadily passing to its destination amid the roar and fury of the tempest. Chalmers could do nothing without preparation, and in the wildest whirl of passion kept his eye upon his manuscript, as if he needed this equipoise to prevent his fervor from rushing to extravagance. Like Chrysostom, Chalmers seemed constantly to dwell under the shadow of the Almighty. With all his intellectual energy and splendor, this rugged Scotchman had the heart of a child, which lay throbbing in calm and holy rapture upon the bosom of Infinite Love, whence he came out into the world, his face glowing like that of angel, and gave utterance to the lofty thoughts and emotions gathered in that high converse. With a prodigious grasp of mind and intensity of feeling, he seized the gospel as a boundless blessing, which lifted his own soul into a higher sphere, and filled it with unutterable peace, and knowing that it was intended to bless the world, not by an artificial process, but a Divine transformation, he spake to the people as if, like Barnabas or Paul, he was moved by the Holy Ghost. Indeed he was thus moved. The celestial fire burned within, and his words issued, like lava from the heart of Vesuvius, alive and glowing. Calm at first, yet solemn and majestic, one hand on his manuscript, and the other jerked vehemently towards his audience, he would begin to glow, his voice rising higher and higher, with a quicker and grander sound, and his eye, dull perhaps at first, burning with a smothered light, like fire new kindled in forest depths, but growing brighter and brighter as he proceeded, his whole frame swelling with emotion, soul and body one, and thrown with all their energies into the throbbing effort, yet strong and steady under the control of his iron will, he would pour upon his rapt and astonished audience a tide of eloquence, so vast and overwhelming, that it could be likened to nothing but the "mighty rushing wind" on the day of Pentecost.

Chalmers is far from perfect; indeed he has many faults,

if you judge him from the printed page. His style is none of the purest. It is often awkward and heavy, with a sort of barbaric glare. His reasoning is often imperfect, the critics would say, loose and declamatory. His imagination, though regal and glowing, is limited, and his feeling, generally natural, is sometimes spasmodic and false. In certain qualities he is inferior to many writers and speakers. He can lay no claim to the logic and symmetry of Hall, the philosophic depth of Pascal, or the majestic beauty of Vinet. In strength he must yield to Foster and Barrow; in serene grandeur, to Howe; in mystic and many-colored fancy, as of light streaming through forest glades or painted windows, to Fénélon and Jeremy Taylor.

But this is not the way to judge of Chalmers or of any man as a preacher. In all, defects enough may be found. A sour critic may demolish, in his own view, the noblest structure of fame. To form a just estimate of Chalmers, you must take him as a whole. Character must be taken into account; for it is not the style only, or what men generally call eloquence, which forms its essence, but the source from which it springs. True eloquence, like nature, has always some undefined peculiarity, as it were, some secret presence, which gives to it its native power. The question must not be settled upon abstract grounds, or with reference to details. To appreciate his peculiar power, you must place Chalmers before your mind's eye, and, as one of his audience, listen to the rush and roll of his inspired discourse. At once you feel that a man of God and of genius is speaking to your inmost soul, with an affluence of thought, feeling, and impulse the most rare and wonderful. Indeed, as in all other cases, his eloquence is a true inspiration; that is, the outbirth or utterance of a great and loving spirit, kindled by the breath of the Almighty, and communicated, as by spiritual magnetism, to the receptive souls of his hearers. In a word, the spirit and the form are equally great, and equally one. The light and the lightning are the same. The radiance of the sun is

the sun itself.

ART. V. THE TERRITORIES ON THE PACIFIC.

1. Report of Hon. T. BUTLER KING to the Hon. JOHN M. CLAYTON, Secretary of State. Washington. 1850.

2. Sights in the Gold Region, and Scenes by the Way. By THEODORE T. JOHNSON. Second edition. New-York: Baker & Scribner. 1850.

3. El Dorado, or Adventures in the Path of Empire. By BAYARD TAYLOR, author of " Views A-foot," " Rhymes of Travel," &c. 2 Vols. New-York: George P. Putnam. London: Richard Bentley. 1850.

4. Three Years in California. By Rev. WALTER COLTON, U. S. N., late Alcalde of Monterey, &c. &c. With illustrations. New-York: A. S. Barnes & Co. 1850.

THE history of the Republic for the past few years has been marked by changes of extraordinary magnitude in the fortunes and condition of the American people. The final settlement of the Oregon dispute with England, the annexation of the Republic of Texas, the war with Mexico, and the discovery of the gold mines of California, are events whose importance it is impossible to over-estimate-whose consequences, for weal or for woe, must continue for ages to affect not only the interests of the United States, but the progress and destiny of civilization itself upon the continent of America. The manner in which some of these events have been brought about, serves very strikingly to illustrate the spirit and character of our people; and the results which we are already experiencing from them, abundantly demonstrate the evil and the good which are so largely intermingled in our social condition. Events of such magnitude always demand the closest scrutiny, and the bearings which they exhibit and the influences which they exert cannot be too carefully watched by those whose character and destiny they are to affect. The lessons they teach and the obligations they impose cannot be too frequently set forth to the popular mind. In the wild excitement of our apparent success, in the hurry of our pauseless progress, in the strife of parties whose organizations now stretch from ocean to ocean, and whose victories are celebrated in nearly forty States and Territories, we are in danger of overlooking the mighty changes which are going on in our character and condition, and of rushing blindly into