standing are corrected with difficulty, particularly those formed when the character is first taking shape and substance. Far better would it be to commence the world without a liberal education. Its stirring scenes and the powerful stimulants it brings, may so operate on native powers while fresh and aspiring, as to produce eminent men: we have numerous examples of this in the south; but he who goes through college an idler, will, in most cases, be an idler throughout life. He will come from its walls either swollen with childish vanity, at his attainments, or gloomy and despondent. The consciousness of mispent time; of feeling blunted and hardened against all honorable stimulus; of habits powerful from long indulgence; of enervated and unmanly character, will be like an incubus upon him, and press him, a groveling worm upon the earth, when he might have risen to control its destinies: and the world will say that he deserves his degradation.

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Here, then, we would say to every young man, pause. Advance not another step, till you have determined that your course shall be a brilliant, or at least, an honorable one and having done this, we bid you go on, and heaven speed and bless you."

Such in an unusual degree were the principles and conduct, and such was the early promise of the youth whose character is portrayed in the volume before us. From his first entrance into college, he appears in a very amiable light. His account of his own studies; the affectionate interest in the improvement of his sisters evinced in all his letters, and the useful directions he gives them about their studies, form pleasing objects of contemplation. We forget that we are listening to a youth of 17; for the sentiments, the language, and style, are all manly and mature. Had it stopped here, however, the picture would have been a very imperfect one. We have not unfrequently met with such characters; and as we have looked on them have realized the full beauty and nature of the scene exhibited in Mark x. 20, 21. "And he answered and said unto him, Master, all these have I observed from my youth. Then Jesus beholding him, loved him, and said unto him, one thing thou lackest." There are characters so noble, so ingenuous, so full of manly grace and beauty, in every part, as almost immediately to insinuate themselves into our deepest affections; and though our contact with such persons may be momentary, they are never forgotten. Yet we think of them with sorrow,-sorrow that a character so lovely, should not be perfect; that one so fitted for the enjoy ments of religion should be without them. He is, after all, a being engrossed with fleeting objects, when he should raise

his views to those that are eternal; bounding his wishes by a few feet of earth and a few transient moments of time, when they should aspire to infinitude of time and place; content to be a man and grovel here, when he should long to be an angel, bright, holy, and glorious. And then we have thought, how, under the touch of religion, his character and conceptions and hopes would swell out, and connect themselves with the Divinity, and change from what is merely beautiful, to what is sublime, and grand, and infinite. It was then with a gratification we can scarcely express, that we followed Pond through his early religious experience, and saw him come forth, we believe, supported by the hand of Heaven, and humbly relying on that hand for support. Such support is needed, in few places, more than in college. Principles are there strongly tried; moral courage is put to the test; virtue assaulted; and we can feel confident in a friend only when we see him sheltered by the strong bulwark of christian faith. We wished also to see the influence of such a person enlisted on the side of religion; for we consider such influence as essential to the well-being and good order of our eolleges. Youthful feeling is quick and fiery; it acts suddenly and often imprudently; and in a college, where individuals are in close and constant contact, each catches warmth, and vigor, and imprudence, from the rest. Feeling is no where so contagious. The check on all this, from persons, who are bound to bring principles, and influence, and excited sensibility, to a known and fixed standard, and test them there, ought to be most salutary, and so it is. We regard religion then, in colleges, apart from its intrinsic worth, as the surest and best security for their good order and "Ye are the salt of the earth," said our Savior, when speaking to men acting among men ;-the words have come down through centuries, addressing the hearts of every christian community, and with a powerful effect; but to no christian community do they come so solemnly and impres sively as to that of a college.

success.

We must now relinquish the subject. It is a fruitful one; but our limits require that we should be brief. It is highly interesting, and if our readers wish to pursue it further, they can do so in the little book we have had under review. We can assure them that they will find it much superior to the generality of such books.

ART. IX.-CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE EDITORS RESPECTING THE REVIEW OF TAYLOR AND HARVEY ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.

GENTLEMEN.-In No. II. of your new series, I have met with a piece, which, without speaking at all to the disparagement of the other pieces contained in that number, I may say has excited no small degree of interest in my mind. I refer to the review of Taylor and Harvey on human depravity. Whoever the writer of that piece may be, he has the faculty of making himself understood; and whether his readers agree or disagree with him in sentiment, they can never complain that he does not render his views intelligible to them, provided they read his remarks with any good degree of attention.

The subject of the review that I have mentioned, is one in which the religious public of New England are becoming somewhat deeply interested; and there is manifestly a tendency towards some degree of feeling, in those who take different sides of the questions in dispute. If you will permit me to speak out, fully and plainly, my views in regard to the reason of this, I would say, that one may obviously assign two grounds, which will account for the strength of feeling that is beginning to manifest itself; the first is, that the topics agitated are of a nature deeply interesting, and have an intimate connection with some of the fundamental truths of religion; the second, that some of the writers and speakers, on both sides, betray too much heat and emotion, and too often find what they are pleased to call absurdity, nonsense, obscurity, prejudice, antiquated views, novelties, scepticism, Arminianism, and shall I say it? even atheism, in the arguments, sugges tions, and views of their opponents; or at least, in what they think to be the necessary and inevitable deductions from them.

These phenomena are not novel. But they give pain to all the well-wishers of religion; and afford matter of triumph to those who dislike the principles of evangelical faith, and are eager to see the professed friends of it divided among themselves. I am not one of those who believe, that all dispute or discussion, yea, in some sense, even warm dispute and discussion, are in themselves unchristian. The sickly sensibility which has lately been manifested in regard to things of this nature, by some in the heart of New England, who have been these thirty years contending with all their might to overthrow orthodoxy, must appear, to every reflecting man, as unworthy of much respect, and even of much attention. The amount of it is plainly nothing more nor less than this: We have been prospering very well, in our attempts to overthrow evangelical principles, while those who profess ed them were quiet, and made no resistance. But now that they have risen up, and with all their might are resisting us, we are at a stand; or rather, our cause is actually on the decline. We deem this very unfair in our opponents. They ought to yield the whole ground without any interference or molestation.' The advocates for religious berty, and the enemies of bigotry,of intolerance,and of the superstitions brought down from the dark ages, surely ought to have the most am

ple privileges that are possible. It is exceedingly unfair, therefore, and illiberal in their opponents, to dispute the ground with them. They ought to give the advocates of liberality, the unlimited and unquestioned right to decry the opinions and views of their opponents, all that they possibly can; and this, without indulging these opponents even in the privilege of opening their mouths in their own defense. Only the advocates of liberality ought to have permission to speak and to write. All dispute against them, by those who inherit the bigotry and superstitions of the dark ages, is intolerable. What can be a worse evil to the community than religious dispute?'

I take it for granted, Messrs. Editors, that it is not an uncommon thing, for men who are severely pressed, to throw out complaints of hard treatment and unfair dealing. But, as every body understands this matter, I need not occupy your time and my own, in descanting up on it. It will be more to my present purpose to say, that, while I believe discussion is the only way to get at truth, where the friends of religion do not harmonize in their views, while I believe that this may be lawfully entered into, with strong interest and great engagedness of feeling, (for why should not christians do whatsoever their hands find to do, with all their might?) yet I must also believe, that est modus in rebus; that there is a way of being in good earnest, without asperity; of being deeply persuaded that the views which we cherish of divine truths are important, without looking on others with angry displeasure, or with a kind of contempt, or (what is not much better) with a kind of reproachful pity for their weakness, their obtuseness, their obstinacy, or their bigotry, because they differ from us. There is a way of being deeply interested in what we write or say, and of being warmly engaged in it too, while we preserve entire respect for those whom we address, both in our demeanor and in our words. I could allude to some most happy examples of this nature, among the multitude of unhappy ones, with which any person who reads polemic theology is obliged to meet. It may suffice to mention one most conspicuous example; that of a man whose memory is dear to New England, and dear to the church of God; I mean President Edwards. Where in all his polemical writings, will any one find personalitics exhibited in his remarks? And (what is much more, and from which very few controversial writers abstain) where will you find any of the argumenta ad invidiam, i. e. remarks designed to make the opinions, or person of an opponent, a matter of ridicule, of scorn, or of violent dislike, which will become personal in its nature? If there be any such passages in the excellent writer in question, they are unknown to me; and if others can point them out, I can only say, that there are spots on the face of the sun.'

You are beginning, perhaps, to apprehend, by this time, that I am only preparing the way, in this roundabout manner, to administer some reproof to what I find in your miscellany, so much of which has of late assumed the character of theological discussion. I confess, very frankly, Messrs. Editors, that you are not out of my mind, while I am making these remarks; but I do not mean to say any thing about you, which is not open and undisguised. In the earnestness with which you

contend for your opinions, there is, occasionally, (at least, so it seems to me,) something of asperity, and even of personality. There is too much effort to render prominent the reductio ad absurdum, which now and then is brought to bear on those of sentiments differing from your own. I acknowledge that this is very natural; especially so, in the earnestness of contending for principles, the profession of which is made a matter of reproach; and, of course, where our very character and standing in the church are concerned with the manner in which our principles are viewed. But my remarks were not designed for you alone. Some who differ from you, whether in the right or wrong as to their principles, in my view are chargeable with the faults on which I have been animadverting; and, so far as I can see or hear, they are at least equally chargeable with yourselves.

For myself, I am not an indifferent spectator of the contest. But I am, at least, I think I am, a disinterested one. I have friends whom I love and respect, in the highest degree, some of whom are for you, and others against you, in this interesting affair. It my feelings and judgment could be biased by friends, in this matter, I should be equally biased on both sides. But, I trust, the matter which I have been canvassing is one, which in itself is so plain to all who are not themselves involved in the contest, that no doubt can arise about it, nor any just ground can be made out to suspect me of partiality in judging of this case. It will of course be understood, that I mean, not the great points of dispute; but the point, whether the parties disputing are not too warm; or rather, whether they do observe all that decorum and respect for each other, which is so important in christian discussion. I must say, and with deep regret too, to me it plainly appears that they do not.

One or two remarks more, on this rather unwelcome topic, and I have done. Is the object of christian discussion, to gain the victory or to convince? To be crowned conqueror, or to win our brethren! Is the command, àλnteús év άyár, one which cannot be obeyed, or does it still remain in full force? I know both parties will say, at once, 'It is in full force.' Very well; then, why cannot the matters in dispute be treated, on all sides, so that no breach of friendship, no wound of confidence and brotherly love, shall be made? Opponents never were convinced, and never will be, by the argumentum ad invidiam; never, by innuendos or reproachful names; never, by urging on them, as conclusions of their own principles, conclusions which they would instantaneously reject. Above all, men of independent thought and feeling are not to be convinced, by being called heretics; or by the old appeal, invidiously made, Fænum habet in cornu; or Hic niger est; hunc tu, Romane, caveto. It is ouly when departure from truth is fundamental, that such an appeal as this can be made, with any propriety and even then, the aspect of it should not be strictly personal.

I have done with reproof either express or implied; for if I should pursue it further, I might seem to fall under the very censures which 1 am uttering. I can only lift up my feeble voice, and most solemnly warn the dear friends who discuss this subject on either side, that, if they divide the churches of New England by asperity and personali