it has been justly said, that they are "equally unphilosophical in the design, and uninteresting in the execution, destitute at once of the sober charms of truth, and of those imposing attractions which fancy, when united to taste, can lend to fiction." The works of these metaphysicians have, for some years, been sinking into merited oblivion. But a new order of materialists have recently presented themselves on the arena of science, who, while they do not pretend to affirm, in so many words, that mind is matter, yet profess to have made discoveries which would seem to imply, that it is capable of being physically analysed, in a manner somewhat analogous to the process of dissection. According to this scheme, all the phenomena of thought and feeling depend on certain protuberances of the brain, which the advocates of the system denominate organs, while others have conferred on them the less elegant appellation of bumps. We can readily imagine the smile of ineffable contempt which would have crossed the philosophic brow of Locke, even while committing to paper his own remarks on the possible materiality of the mind, had the bust of a modern phrenologist been placed on his table.

In our speculations concerning the human soul, it will serve to prevent much indistinctness of perception, and uncertainty of aim, if we keep constantly and prominently in view a fact which is of fundamental importance in every philosophical inquiry. Let it, then, be remembered, that all our knowledge, both actual and possible, respecting the substances in nature, relates to their properties, and not to their inherent essence. Thus, matter is known to us simply as something possessed of solidity, extension and divisibility. And so mind is known to us merely as something endued with the qualities of thought, volition

and feeling. Here, on the one hand, and on the other, is the ultimate boundary of our information-a boundary more impenetrable than the mountains of ice that surround the poles of the earth, and bid defiance to the mariner's approach. With regard to the peculiarity which distinguishes the intimate structure of these two substances-matter and mind-we are, and must always be, so long as we continue in the present state, entirely ignorant. It will be perceived, therefore, that the knowledge which we have acquired in respect to the existence and properties of matter, is not more certain and complete, than that which we have acquired in respect to the existence and properties of mind. We know full as much of the latter, as we do of the former-and, perhaps, more. And yetstrange to say-the theories of the materialists have always proceeded on the erroneous supposition, that we are better acquainted with matter, than with mind. Who, then, can wonder, that such speculators, having entered on their researches with views so radically unphilosophical, should have arrived at a false result?

Now, the qualities of matter, and those of mind, are utterly and entirely different. We might even say, that they are opposite. What resemblance have solidity and extension to thought and feeling? Where is the analogy between divisibility and volition? There is surely no resemblance-there is no analogy. We are, therefore, under the necessity of conceding, that matter is one thing, and mind another thing. It is an abuse of language, as well as a violation of the principles of true science, to apply the same name to two substances, whose properties-by which only we know either of them -are so strikingly dissimilar. We wish, that the materialist would inquire how broad is a remembrance; and

into how many parts he supposes, that the emotion of joy, operated on by proper instruments, might be divided. It would likewise be worthy of his investigation, to determine which is the larger, and in what precise ratio, a hope or a fear. There are, besides, many curious questions which he might resolve, concerning the bulk, weight, and other physical properties of an imagination. Let no one conceive, that these remarks are irrelevant. They bear most directly on the real merits of the point at issue; for, as has been well observed, "in saying of mind, that it is matter, we must mean, if we mean any thing, that the principle which thinks, is extended, hard and divisible." Such, in a single word, is the true purport of the materialist's doctrine.

But we shall not pursue an argument which we feel is not very well adapted to the pulpit. Enough has been said, it is presumed, to convince you, that Solomon expressed himself with the accuracy of a just philosopher, when he called the soul of man a spirit. He regarded it as something entirely distinct from the dust of which the body is composed, and on this ground rested, in part, his belief of its continued existence after the dissolution of the latter. And here, brethren, let us tell you, that the immateriality of the human mind affords one of the strongest evidences of its immortality. We are entitled to believe, that the same causes which produce decay in substances endued with extension and divisibility, can have no such effect on those endued with thought and volition. The dissolution of matter is occasioned by the separation of its component parts. But spirit, which is not made up of parts, would seem to be naturally indestructible. We know it has been said, that material and immaterial substances are alike depen

of a sinner, sanctified by the same holy spirit, redeemed by the same precious sacrifice, and accepted by the same almighty Father. He preached as one who had bound himself, for the rewards of eternity, to strengthen the weak hands and confirm the feeble knees, to lead the blind, and to encourage the fearful, to bring back the wanderer, to bind up the broken heart, and to warn the strong, that he take heed, lest he fall. He preached as one who had experienced in himself the regenerating power, and the purifying influences, the holy enjoyments, rich consolations, and eternal sanctions of the gospel.

But there are other points of view, in which we may advantageously contemplate the character of Mr. Ashmead. We have said that he was gifted with fine talents, and he accordingly trained himself, by the assiduous cultivation of his mind, to a thorough knowledge of its capabilities, and a complete mastery of its powers. -Hence, while the Christian heard with gratitude and humble joy, the message of salvation, delivered in the very spirit of the gospel, kind, considerate and simple: the scholar was charmed by the display of a logic, clear, vigorous, convincing; of a judgment, sound and discriminating: and of a taste, at once pure and beautiful. His reasonings in favour of religion were delivered with all the energy of truth, all the fervour of piety, and all the chastened elegance of an accomplished preacher.

It is believed that very few of the numerous clergymen who have visited our city, during a long course of years, so speedily established such an enviable reputation, as a Christian minister, as a scholar and a gentleman.-Whilst he was loved as a pious and amiable man, he was admired as an able and eloquent preacher, and respected as a faithful servant of his crucified Master. The character, which he had developed and finished, during eight years of service at Lancaster, had attained such a state of perfection, that a display of its moral beauty and intellectual excellence seemed rather to be spontaneous manifestations of its power, than deliberate purposes of the mind. The large and enlightened audience which attended his preaching, attested the general satisfaction which he gave. The unanimous call to fill the vacant pulpit of the 2d Presbyterian Church, was at once the reward of his labours, and a testimony to his sterling merit. The deep regret of the Lancaster church, at parting with him, and the affliction of the 2d Presbyterian church at his decease, bespeak the gratitude

of the former, and the broken hopes of the latter. As a husband, father, friend, the qualities of Mr. Ashmead were but emanations from the higher and nobler character, which distinguished him as a Christian and a minister. Such a Christian and such a minister could not fail to exhibit, in the social and domestic circles, those qualities, which not only endear but adorn, the husband, the father and the friend. His virtues commanded respect, and won esteem; while the affability and gentleness of his manners, the sweetness and serenity of his temper, his cheerful and cordial conversation, his pure and humble spirit, recommended him as a companion and a model. The strength of his affections and the extreme delicacy of his feelings were known to but few. "I have been a sensitive being," said he, "and my feelings have been but little understood." His modest and retiring manners, veiled from the casual observer much of the loveliness of his character. Yet withal, he was fearless in the discharge of duty, and uniformly opposed injustice, with a determined purpose.

To his widow he has left the bright example of a Christian life, and the more glorious and precious consolations of a Christian death-bed. To her, as a pious mother, he has entrusted that example and those consolations, as the rich and affecting bequest of a dying father to the little children, whom he loved. By her, the wife of his confidence and affections, we feel assured, that these treasures of a husband's character, will be preserved as a sacred patrimony for his children, and as a pledge of their re-union in that world of glorified spirits, where sorrow and tears are unknown, but the purity and bliss of angels and seraphs become the eternal inheritance of the redeemed.

The death of such a man is a heavy loss to the community, who expected so much from his life. The death of such a minister, is a season for fasting and prayer, to the people whom he served. The death of such a scholar is consecrated by the tears, and embalmed in the memory of Literature. The death of such a husband, father, friend, clothes in mourning the forms that he loved, and banishes smiles from the faces which were ever wont to rejoice when he rejoiced.

But the death of such a man, such a minister, such a scholar, of such a husband, father, friend, is full of consolation to those who survive; as it is full of glory and happiness to him. Theirs is a loss, that can last but a few years, for they also must die: but his