words, however strange, are in some way or other to be reconciled with the articles to which he has affixed his name. One may account for it as one pleases. One may suppose that he has ventured on subjects beyond his depth-that he has fairly mystified himself, and is not aware of his own meaning-or that he writes in so unusual a style that his meaning cannot be made out. Still it cannot be denied that it is a most fearful thing to have, as professor of divinity, one whose writings seem to militate against our commonly-received belief, and are to be reconciled with it, not by any common or usual processes of language, but by his positive declarations that whatever he may seem to say, he does not actually mean to say anything which is unsound. If he is to speak to his pupils as he writes, (and can we hope that he will speak anywhere more carefully than in St. Mary's pulpit, as Bampton Lecturer,) what is to become of them? He cannot be saying to them perpetually, "Remember that I believe the Thirty-nine Articles; and, whatever I may seem to say, you are to reconcile it with them." What then is to become of the future clergy of England who will be consigned to his care? Are they to learn this strange mode of speaking on the most vital doctrines, and are we to learn from our pulpits these seeming negations of all the truths held most precious? Were the objections not graver than this-viz., that Dr. Hampden's mode of speaking and writing on the great doctrines of religion is such that it requires our being reminded from without that he remains as a declared believer in the articles of our church, in order to arrive at the conclusion that he can do so, can any man say that he is a safe teacher of divinity, or that the government should have constituted him such? But what are we to say of such statements as this? When speaking of our Lord's sacrifice for sin, he says, that the term atonement, in its true practical sense, expresses a certain phenomenon of human nature-viz., that it cannot be at peace without the consciousness of atonement made for its sins; but that Scripture has met this with a parallel fact-viz., the perfect righteousness of our Lord, "which it has connected with our unrighteousness, and whose strength it has brought to the aid of our weakness. Thus, Christ is said emphatically to be our atonement, not that we may attribute to God any change of purpose towards man by what Christ has done, but that we may know that we have passed from the death of sin to the life of righteousness by him, and that our own hearts may not condemn us.' Now, in treating of other subjects, every one must allow that Dr. H. speaks obscurely, that the subjects are abstruse, and one may fairly argue that when any man begins to speak metaphysically, as Dr. H. does, of the great mysteries of religion, it may require more depth and knowledge than even his warmest admirers would claim for him, to prevent his often saying what may be of doubtful interpretation. But can there be any doubt as to his meaning on this point? Is this to be the doctrine from English pulpits? This melancholy subject is one which has made a deep impression on churchmen, and the impression is not one which will be diminished by time. The evils of it will, if the lectures remain in Dr. H.'s hands, be felt more and more widely from year to year. Nor can the con sequences of such opinions be foretold. If they should prevail to any extent, what can be anticipated but a great schism in the church, a resolute separation of the healthy from the unhealthy portion, even with all its fearful consequences? And all this, with popery and dissent open-mouthed for our destruction! It can hardly be doubted that Dr. Hampden's active advocacy of the claims of the dissenters last year has been his recommendation. For he is not understood to be a political clergyman, nor to have obtained either good or ill will in that way. The dissenters are the active electioneering agents in the borough towns, and it must be a subject of the bitterest regret for the present, and the bitterest anticipation for the future, that (in all human probability) to please them, such sad sacrifices of our peace and safety are made. Who would have believed a few months ago that dissent could have struck such a blow at the church of England? BISHOP OF DURHAM. THE death of so eminent a prelate as the Bishop of Durham cannot be passed over in silence, however unworthy of his excellence the tribute which can be offered to it here must be. There is a just and due reverence felt among mankind for deep learning, for accurate thought, for clear views, and for decision of judgment; and no small portion of respect attends him who possesses any one of these gifts or acquirements in an abundant measure. Their combination is, in the highest degree, rare; and yet it may be said, with perfect truth, that the Bishop of Durham possessed them all. What struck the stranger most, was perhaps the clearness and unhesitating decision of his judgment. A nearer view, however, shewed that this was not (as is often the case) the result of a particular constitution of nature a mere excellent gift, but that the clearness and certainty of the decision arose in at least an equal degree from a deep knowledge of the subject on which it was given, and accurate reflexion on that subject, under all its bearings. For his great learning, and the accuracy of his thought, the works which he has left are abundant vouchers. The deep impression made by his speeches in Parliament, and the weight which they carried with them, sufficiently attest the clearness of his views, and the strength of his decisions. They who saw his retired life, and knew his earlier habits, might not have expected parliamentary speaking to have been a field well fitted for the display of his powers; but it was otherwise. His opponents always felt the weight of his speeches most forcibly; and the more generous among them were not slow to confess it. His words were clear, ready, and dignified; and, above all, everything he said was commended by the unsullied integrity of his life, and the uncompromising steadfastness of his principles. Elevated from comparative poverty to distinguished stations, and finally to the command of large affluence, he brought with him none VOL. IX.-March, 1836. 2 x of that value for money which often accompanies its recent possession. His own habits remained unchanged; and he seemed hardly to participate, personally, in the gifts of fortune. He used his wealth as it ought to be used, with a munificence which has rarely been equalled, and never surpassed. While he kept up the proper dignity of his station, he gave, with the most lavish hand, to every object deserving his support, as a Christian bishop. It was said, by one who had full means of knowing, that, splendid and glorious as was the munificence of Bishop Barrington, he much doubted whether Bishop Van Mildert, without any private means whatever, did not exert a munificence, not proportionally, but actually, greater. A single instance, within the writer's own knowledge, may illustrate this. In the autumn of 1833, when the bishop was assisting in the foundation of the new University of Durham, the writer mentioned to him, at Harrogate, the wants of Lampeter College. At that time, the new institution at Durham might well be supposed, in addition to all the usual claims on his purse, to have exhausted all his means. It was notorious, indeed, that, in that year alone, he gave from four to five thousand pounds to the new university; yet, on the state of Lampeter being mentioned, he said, that he was not at all aware of it, and that he thought it became him, as having been once a Welsh bishop, to do something for it. What he should do, he did not add; but the list of subscriptions shortly after shewed that he sent no less than five hundred pounds to this one object. The loss of such a man, in these times, is indeed a grievous blow to our suffering church. To put aside the consideration of his other excellences, the death of one whose principles were at once founded on deep knowledge and conviction, and incapable of compromise or variation, is a loss which we cannot hope to see repaired, although the personal infirmities and sufferings, and the domestic distress, which had, in some measure, withdrawn him from active life, may prevent his loss from being as deeply felt, or fully perceived at the moment, as if he had been taken from us in the midst of health and the active exertion of his great powers. It will not, perhaps, be thought a departure from the reserve with which such subjects should be treated if it is said, that no man could exhibit a more striking picture than Bishop Van Mildert, at once of the uselessness of riches to enjoyment, and of the worthy use of them. At the time when every factious journal was reviling the Bishop of Durham, as possessed of the most enormous wealth, accumulating riches, and surrounded by every luxury and splendour of life, this admirable man was living under the pressure of disease, of pain and infirmity, excluded, by domestic calamity, from the common enjoyment of the society of his friends; and not partaking of a single personal comfort, which the most moderate income would not have insured him. There was something, indeed, inexpressibly striking and touching in the contrast afforded by the almost solitary suffering of the man, and the exquisite beauty of the scenery, in the grounds of Auckland Castle, and the stateliness of the residence itself. The beauty of nature, and the stateliness of art, were alike set before him in vain: they could neither remove his sufferings, nor heal his distress. The remedies for them he found within; and the wealth, which was of no avail to himself, he delighted to expend on every object which could serve the cause of his great Master. ON THE Education oF MEDICAL STUDENTS. SIR, I am rejoiced to find that the attention of your readers has been directed to the state of the medical students in London. The clergy are bound to take an interest in every subject in which humanity is interested; but this is one which concerns them very nearly. No parish minister, in town or country, can be ignorant how much the happiness of his flock is affected by the character of the surgeon or apothecary who ministers to their bodily ailments; how great are his powers for good or for mischief; how able he is to further or frustrate the labours of the spiritual physician. I do not know, therefore, by whom the question-" What is the best method of rearing up a body of well-principled medical men?"—can have a chance of being treated with the attention which its importance deserves, if not by the readers of the "British Magazine." The principal difficulty in considering this question arises from the constitution of our medical schools. They are, properly speaking, mere appendages to institutions of a different kind. The conductors of our London hospitals feel that they have already done a great service to the public-one which was not expected, and could not be demanded from them-in furnishing such facilities for medical education, which no mere colleges could have afforded and they ask, why they should be required to travel still further out of their appointed track, in order to supply a deficiency, or remedy an evil, however glaring? Our business, they say, is with our patients! They must have good medical attendants; and, to provide them with such, we have permitted the establishment of these schools; but, without that excuse we have no right to engage in any enterprise, be it as useful to society as it may! : The only answer to this reasoning seems to be this:-There are certain schools established; the public know nothing of their history; it only knows, that from these schools the men come forth who are to spread from one end of the country to the other; who are to make their way into the families of rich and poor; who must have an influence, at all events considerable, to a certain extent secret, and perhaps very dangerous. We must get as great a security as the case admits of, that these men are trustworthy. The securities, we know, cannot be complete, as they cannot be in any other human matter. But, from all we can learn, the present state of medical education affords us no grounds of confidence; nay, warrants a presumption of the greatest risk. From all we can learn, the position of medical students is a position not favourable, at least, to the formation of Christian principles and gentlemanly feelings. Those of the profession who exhibit them (as numbers do exhibit them) have become what they are in spite of incalculable early disadvantages. This must not be! We impose no task on the conductors of the hospitals, or on any one else; but we say, remedy is necessary: and those schools which will endeavour to supply it are those which alone can sustain their reputation. No one will deny that this language is reasonable; and no one, I think, will deny, that, if those who manage any of our hospitals see the reasonableness of it, and are determined to act upon it, they surely would not be doing anything inconsistent with their peculiar duty. They have thought it not departing from their position to permit the establishment of these schools; they know that it would be a serious mischief to the hospitals if they were abandoned; why should they think it an impertinence to take such measures as will leave the public in no doubt whether these schools are a blessing or a nuisance? What these measures should be is the next question. And it is a question on which I do not think the public are nearly so well qualified to advise, as they certainly are qualified to protest against the evil, and to insist upon its removal. The flatterers of the multitude, who are alternately its slaves and rulers, pretend that it always feels its own interests and wants, and understands their cure. I believe that it must always be awakened to a feeling of its wants, and that it must be taught the way by which it can be satisfied. In this instance, all the higher and nobler masters of the profession, who mourn over its degradation, will communicate their suggestions. I shall be rejoiced if those which I now venture to throw out give birth to others, which will make them appear utterly valueless. There is probably little doubt that some of the schools of medicine will be incorporated with the Central Metropolitan University which the present government designs to establish. They will maintain that by so doing the great defect of the present system will be supplied. Hitherto, a merely professional education has been all that the young students of this profession have in general been able to obtain; now, it will be said, an opportunity offers for under-propping that education with a general education, which will vastly enlarge the capacity of the pupils, and make them better fitted for their own particular vocation. I may mention, by the way, that this language, so frequent in the present day, was, a few years ago, derided as a doctrine of the old school-the grand delusion of the bigots in endowed universities. It is now sanctioned and adopted by the most liberal philosophers; and the new university is a recognition of its truth. But still there is a great controversy pending. According to the theory and practice of the supporters of the new universities, a professional education is that which is directed to one object-a general education is that which is directed to a great many. On the other hand, according to the theory and practice of the old universities, a general, or, as they would say, a universal, education, is just as much directed to one point as a professional education. The difference between them consists not in this that the former includes half-a-dozen pursuits, and the latter but a single pursuit ; but in this-that the purpose of the first is to form a man: of the second, a lawyer, physician, soldier, priest. This is now the great argument; upon this issue is joined in the new experiment of a metropolitan university. It is necessary that the heads of schools of medicine should feel that this is the point; for according to their understanding of it will they shape their course. If they propound the question to themselves in this way"Shall we unite with a body which stands forth on the liberal principle of throwing overboard all distinctions of theological belief, and offering a grand scheme of universal education?" it is likely enough that they will embrace so tempting an offer. But if they clearly perceive that what passes under the fine name of throwing overboard theological distinctions, is, in fact, simply depriving education of its centre, converting it into a mere loose heap of studies, without a clue or relation; and, above all, renouncing all testimony to the fact, that the purpose of all moral instruction is to form the character, to form the man; we may begin to question whether they will exactly fulfil either the demands of the public or their own wishes by entering into the ministerial project. They may think with themselves" What good will it do our pupils to learn a great many things besides medicine, if, on the one hand, all this learning does not connect itself with their own especial learning, nor, on the other, give them more the feelings of men and of citizens?" "Such men as our Frends, and Meads, and Hans Sloanes, will never be formed upon the new system. They were men who felt a different interest in humanity, and all that concerned it; and on that account felt so much interest in that important portion of humanity with which their own profession brought them in contact. These will be men who know a great deal about a |