To carry out this pious design, committees were formed at Leipsic and Dresden, by the permission, and under the avowed protection, of the minister of religion and public instruction. Preliminary funds were collected; and rules and regulations were agreed upon; and hopes were entertained that kindred Societies would be formed in all countries where the Evangelical faith prevails. During seven years the operations of the Institution in Germany were confined to Saxony, aided by a few donations from abroad; but the country of Gustavus-Adolphus did not delay in joining it; and in 1836, the king ordered that during six consecutive years there should be collections for it throughout his kingdom; the result of which was very gratifying. In Germany a new impulse was given to the Institution, by an appeal addressed to the Evangelical Churches, previously to the commemorative festival of the Reformation; solemnized at Darmstadt in 1841. The friends of the Institution throughout Germany were, in consequence, convoked to a general assembly at Leipsic in September 1842; where the foundations were laid of a universal Association, which was established at a second assembly at Frankfort. Besides the immediate benevolent objects of this Society, it is proposed to render it a bond of fraternity among the Evangelical Churches; an object much desired among persons of Scriptural principles and earnest faith. This addition to its original plan has been warmly hailed, with many prayers for the Divine blessing upon it. The design, however, has met with opposition. The king of Bavaria, in particular, has declared that no branch of the Gustavus Association shall be established among the numerous Protestants in his dominions, Gustavus, deplored by his followers and friends, and admired even by his greatest enemies. But, though dead, his spirit still seemed to watch over the Swedish arms, and to ensure their success. For sixteen long years did they nobly contend to support the fame they had already won, and to obtain an honourable peace; nor were their efforts vain." We will extract a passage relative to Gustavus Adolphus from the Rev. T. Lathbury's "Memorials of Ernest the Pious, first Duke of Saxe-Gotha, and a lineal ancestor of Prince Albert, with Notices of the chief Promoters of the Reformation in Germany." This publication is one of the well-timed and well-compiled historical digests with several of which Mr. Lathbury has favoured those who have not time or opportunity for consulting original authorities. His histories of the Convocation of the Church of England; of English Episcopacy; and of the Gunpowder Plot, are very useful publications. "Gustavus, like Ernest, was a man of great piety. He never omitted the worship of God in the camp; and no doubt Prince Ernest felt great satisfaction in serving under a man whose piety was equal to his valour. When Gustavus first entered Germany, he fell down upon his knees, to return thanks to Almighty God for so far prospering his undertaking, and to supplicate his assistance in the prosecution of the war. Nor was this great man unmindful of the morals of his army. Drunkenness and profane swearing were rigorously punished. To each regiment a chaplain was appointed, whose duty it was to perform divine service twice every day, unless prevented by actual warfare. On his colours were inscribed, Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, Defender of the Evangelical Faith. If God be for us, who shall be against us ?' The watchword on the eve of the battle of Leipsic was, God is with us.' In short, all the king's actions were indicative of a deep sense of religion. "Germany,' says Schiller, was astonished at the strictness of the Swedish discipline: all disorders were punished with the utmost severity, more particularly impiety, theft, swearing, and duelling. Each morning and evening every regiment formed a circle round its Chaplain for prayers. In everything the king set the example." CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 72. 5 C on the ground that it is a party-spirited Institution, and offensive to the Roman Catholics. He has forbidden the Protestant communions in his territories to be called "Evangelical;" this being, he says, an insult to the Church of Rome, which is by right, and in fact, the Evangelical Church. A general assembly of the Institution was held last September at Frankfort, at which were present deputies from all the branch Associations, and a great number of pastors, professors, and lay church officers, some of whom came from as far as from Hungary, Alsace, and Holstein. The meetings were conducted with prayer and brotherly accord, and rules and regulations were drawn up for the proceedings of the Institution. S. REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. SERMONS ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. H. BLUNT. 1. The Departure of the Righteous: a Sermon preached in the Parish Church of Cheltenham. By the REV. FRANCIS CLOSE, M.A., with a brief Obituary of the late Rev. H. Blunt, A.M., Rector of Streatham, Surrey. 2. The Remembrance of the Righteous: a Sermon preached at Trinity Church, Sloane-street, on the Sunday after the Death of the Rer. H. Blunt, formerly Rector of Upper Chelsea. By his Successor, the Rev. RICHARD BURGESS, B.D. WE had so great a regard and esteem for the late Rev. H. Blunt, and were so convinced that a sketch of his life would be interesting and profitable to our readers, that it was a source of vexation to us that we could not collect sufficient respecting him to draw up a memoir that would do justice to his memory; in default of which, we preferred waiting for an authentic narrative, accompanied by selections from his papers, rather than present a meagre and unsatisfactory notice. We have still to wait for the kind of publication we hoped for; but as we are unwilling that our Volume should close without some memorial of him, we have recurred to two Sermons preached upon occasion of his lamented decease; from which we will extract the edifying and interesting particulars therein stated. has lost its head :-such a fathersuch a husband-such a companion,adviser,-friend! A parish has been bereaved of a Godly Pastor, and a faithful preacher; the Church has been deprived of one of its brightest ornaments, the world has lost a faithful monitor,—and I have lost my oldest friend. When I mention the name of HENRY BLUNT, many will be prepared to appreciate the loss which we have sustained. Perhaps I may in some respects be considered to have a peculiar claim to raise a tribute of affection to my departed friend, since no less than thirty-four years have rolled by since my intimacy with him commenced. There have been intervals in our subsequent lives, when, for a while we have lost sight of each other, but our friendship has never been dissolved until now! We were school-fellows, and companions in our early days. And this part of his history should be peculiarly There are instances of persons who were impressive and instructive to the young. thoughtless, and even vicious in their youthful days, who have been subsequently converted, and have become useful members of society, and even ministers of the Gospel of Christ. But more frequently it happens that those who are moral, studious, obedient, and amiable in their younger days, grow up to be lights of their generation. Thus, in Scripture, we read of Joseph, and Samuel, and Daniel, and Josiah, and Timothy, and others. And thus it was with my departed friend. He had not indeed the spiritual advantages which are possessed by many, nor was this early period of his life marked by distinguished piety-but he was always strictly moral, studious, and extremely amiable. He was a general favourite alike with his teachers and his companions-a guileless being-every boy who knew him, loved him. He was always of delicate frame, and rather feeble in person-but he exercised an extraordinary influence over other boys. The nascent talent, afterwards more fully developed, even then discovered itself: his powers of description, and narrative, rivetted the attention of all who listened to him and his school-fellows were willing to oblige him in any thing, upon the condition that he would thus amuse them. Many still live who can attest the accuracy of my present statement. I lost sight of him for three years before I went to the University-there I found him, still the same amiable, virtuous, and interesting person-and likely to distinguish himself in academic honours. This he did in 1817, when he took his degree as ninth Wrangler, and bearing also a high character for classical attainments. The following year he was admitted into Holy Orders. Retiring to the country village of Clare, in Suffolk, he devoted himself to the work of a parochial Minister; at the same time receiving a few pupils into his house. It was here, in the conscientious pursuit of his spiritual duties, that a change passed over his opinions and his heart: without any human instructor-by the light of God's own Word and Spirit, he was guided into those truly scriptural, evangelical, and protestant principles which he subsequently maintained with so much stedfastness, and so much purity and talent. As these principles deepened in his mind, he was impressed with an earnest desire to devote himself more exclusively to the blessed work of an Evangelist; and though the most flattering prospects opened before him in the way of pupils, and several persons of distinction were anxious that he should educate their sons, he declined all these tempting offers, and entered on one of the most extensive and laborious parochial cures in the vicinity of the Metropolis. This was in the opening of the year 1824. From that time our intimacy ripened into closer friendship-and I have subsequently had the privilege of enjoying his confidence to the sad moment of his departure from among us. "As Curate of Chelsea, his indefatigable zeal, his attractive manners, his :: persuasive simple eloquence, and his scriptural fidelity, soon attracted the attention, not only of his parishioners but of many others and at length, in the year 1830, greatly to the satisfaction of a numerous and attached people, he was presented to the new Church of the Holy Trinity, Upper Chelsea. There his character, his principles, and his peculiar talents fully displayed themselves-for five years he pursued a course of unrivalled usefulness; drawing around him the most influential congregation in London or its neighbourhood. Nobles, peers, commoners, tradesmen, and the poor, alike hung upon his fascinating discourses. And what was their peculiar charm? His manner was calm and sedate-his voice was feeble, yet wherever it reached it rivetted attention there were no high flights of eloquence, no rhetorical flourishes, no meretricious embellishments-certainly no puerilities, nor conceits-he never stooped to such means to produce a momentary effect. The charm of his preaching was its simple truth-its evangelical fidelity-he preached the truth in love-he was affectionate, earnest, persuasive-his style was chaste, I might almost say elegant-and he had a singular power of adapting the word of God to the peculiar habits, feelings, and circumstances of his auditors. Abstract truth by the touch of his pen became a living and practical principle-comprehensible, and individual-so that each man felt himself addressed. Wonderful certainly was his success at that period and few men could have sustained the weight of applause which was laid upon him with such unaffected modesty and humility as he did. But how inscrutable are the ways of God! Just when hundreds of the great and the noble were crowding around him-not only in his church, but in his more private and domestic instructions-(for no one despised the character of a mere popular preacher more than he did-and no one took a higher standard of parochial and daily labour)—just then it was that it pleased God in his inscrutable providence to suspend him in the midst of his usefulness. His frame, always feeble and delicate, gave way to his incessant labours-and the seeds of that fatal disease which has at length carried him off, then made their too evident appearance. I rejoice that I have preserved a most beautiful letter which I received from him at that interesting period: a letter which displays his mind and spirit-his glowing love and faith and hope-his ineffable peace, and his profound humility, far better than any language however eulogistic. It was dated from Brighton, Nov. 7, 1835, when he was on the eve of seeking the milder climate of Devonshire-for the winter. I give it here almost entire-I force the privacy of christian friendship for the good and comfort of the Church of GOD. "MY DEAR FRIEND,-I feel your very kind and affectionate letter much. I assure you I did not need you to remind me of your valued promise, for it has been often, and more especially of late, upon my mind. My state of health, however, is probably what would be called not one of immediate danger; that is, by God's blessing, upon the mild climate of Devonshire (we hope to go to Torquay next week) I may creep through the winter; but the disease in the lungs is considered by the medical men too far established to allow them to speak confidently of any lengthened period; the symptoms having now, without a single day's intermission, lasted since this time twelvemonth. I merely mention this because you desire to know exactly how I am, and yet after all it does not tell you; it says how the body is, but thanks be to God, the body is not I. I can truly, and I trust gratefully say, that I never was better; that in the fullest enjoyment of Chelsea work, (and you know something of what that feeling means,) I never experienced such unbroken peace and uninterrupted comfort. I don't even want to be up and doing, which for me is wonderful, but I am content to be laid aside, and to be taught what I have been long teaching. It was an often expressed desire of mine to die in the midst of my work, but I now feel glad that the choice was not left to me, and am truly thankful for the quiet season which I hope by God's mercy lies before me. "I trust that both you and I, my very dear friend, have long known something of the value and of the strength of the promises, but even you can, I think, hardly tell what adamant I find them now; I think of death, and for a moment tremble, and then of Him in whom we are made more than conquerors, and really I am almost surprised to find how ENTIRELY the sting of death is drawn. I am afraid of presumption; and perhaps when I come into close quarters with the great enemy I shall find him more powerful than I feel him now: and yet I cannot think it! to be in Christ (oh, the blessed reality) is and must be "the strong tower ;" and seeking all in him, I am perfectly satisfied that I shall find all in Him, all both in time and eternity. "But I have written more than my medical advisers allow me, and yet I could write sheets on my present feel ings; however they are only what you have witnessed in hundreds, as I have myself, and often in the weakest men, women, and children in our Redeemer's family, so entirely is it "not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts." 666 Pray for me, that my present feelings may be maintained, more I do not ask on this side heaven. "I have been so entirely interdicted from letter writing, as too exciting, that few things but the affectionate and urgent kindness of the oldest of my friends could, I believe, have drawn forth a reply. "Believe me ever, my very dear friend, your's faithfully and affectionately, “HENRY BLUNT. "26, Regency Square, Brighton, 666 Such, my friends, was this good man's preparation for death eight years ago; during that chequered period of his life which has since elapsed, he has only at times been able partially to resume his labours. But his Lord has showed that He had not forgotten His faithful servant; for then it was that a distinguished nobleman, unsought, and unasked, presented him with the rectory in which he has spent his declining years and drawn his last breath. He is now no more! And how did he die? How interesting to the Christian are the dying moments of a good man! That little cloud of fear which he seemed to anticipate in the nearer approach of death was entirely dissipated, and the words of my text are a perfect picture of my dear friend's last moments :- He has entered into peace. They shall rest in their beds, each one walking in his uprightness.' On Wednesday last, July 19th, he became suddenly worse; he laboured under great bodily suffering then, which was not generally the case during his long illness; at the close of that day he exclaimed, Great bodily suffering, some times agony, yet all is peace, perfect peace, remember that-I am enjoying it now, I know I shall throughout eternity; there is no cloud-no doubt on my mind; God is all sufficient;' and then he repeated with great fervour 'This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief''Yes,' he added, this is a faithful saying, or what should I do at this hour?' On Thursday morning early, he was so feeble that he could not speak, but he waved his hand in token of farewell to his friends; and drawing his breath heavily, twice, his spirit departed: so calm was his departure, that the hand which was beneath his head never moved! He fell asleep in Jesus! 'He rests in his bed;' his winding sheet is wrapped around him-the habiliments of death are upon him-the coffin has not yet closed over him-but I have heard that his manly countenance never looked more calm, more benevolent! He will soon sleep in the grave, and there will he remain until the last trumpet sounds, and then he shall leap forth from his prison-house, at the joyful summons of his Lord! His spirit now walks in its uprightness;' sweet, high, and holy, is the intimacy he enjoys; he holds converse with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the dead who have died in the LORD!" To these details, we will add the remarks of Mr. Burgess, which supply some additional facts. "There are four things which it is edifying to remember, as often as a faithful minister passes hence to his heavenly home. To remember his office and ministry, his preaching, his faith, and the end of his conversation, that is to say, his hope in death, and such a minister of Christ, my brethren, who once had rule over you, and spake to Lou the word of God, has, since we last assembled in this sanctuary, finished his course with joy. It is meet that you should remember him-it is right that I should exhort you to such remembrance, that you may pray to have his degree of faith, to die his death, and that your last end may be like his. The passing bell which has announced the departure of your once beloved pastor, and my fellowlabourer in this portion of Christ's vineyard, has fixed the thoughts of thousands upon this pulpit now so unworthily occupied. It was here where that man of God did the work of an evangelist, fed the flock over which the Holy Ghost had made him overseer, and had the rule over you without exercising dominion. It was here, where, in persuasive strains of eloquence, he spoke unto you the word of God, and by the force of simple unadorned truth, overcame the prejudices of many minds, and the hardness of many hearts, and drew many a penitent weeping to the cross of Christ. It was in this parish where that feeble frame exhausted itself by labours more abundant,' but where also the power of faith and the efficacy of prayer were almost visible in the prolonging of his days, and in the supply of strength for his ministrations. It was here where he preached, and while thousands hung upon those lips which are now closed for ever, and the popular current set toward this sanctuary, he departed not from the simplicity of the truth as it is in Jesus, but continued to declare unto you the whole counsel of God. With him it was a small thing to be judged of men, for he well knew that he must one day give an account to Him who searcheth the heart. His faith, which we may not be ashamed to follow, did not stand in the wisdom of men; he made no vain parade of learning; he relied not for success upon elaborate argument, but his strength was in God's truth; as he began, so he ended; his theme was Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. His doctrine was pure, his life coincident did exhibit lucid proof that he was honest in the sacred cause;' his end was peace, and brance, for he being dead yet speaketh.' his name will long be had in remem "It may be doubted, whether there be any minister of the present day, whose labours of the pen and pulpit have been so extensively useful to the Church of Christ. Through a period of fifteen years, he was permitted to edify by his writings those whom his voice could not reach and thousands who never saw him in the flesh, will rejoice to meet him in heaven, and own him as the instrument of their felicity. There are many among you, my brethren, who will recollect the moral wilderness in which your once beloved pastor began his ministerial labours. A parish of 32,000 souls, with church accommodation for scarcely 3,000, and but three or four at the most, besides himself, to take part in the daily ministrations; what wonder, if in such an uncultivated waste there should have been comparatively few who loved the Gospel of Christ. And if we did not know that God had chosen the weak things of this world to confound the strong, who could have imagined that one individual, composing his discourses during a season of bodily weakness, and holding a subordinate station in the Church, would have been enabled by grace to leaven the whole mass, to inspire into the hearts of so many a desire for the bread of life, and to infuse his own spirit into the minds of others, so that they who before had hindered, became fellowhelpers in his work? It was during the season of Lent, in 1828, that the Curate of St. Luke's delivered his Lectures on the Life of Jacob, which he published, and in less than five years they went through ten editions. The following year his Lectures on the History of St. Peter appeared, and had as rapid and extensive a circulation. In the year 1830, this sanctuary was reared, partly by his exertions; and his pulpit ministrations, which had been so abundantly blessed, were transferred to this section of the parish. A succession of works, charac |