taken away, the essence of christianity is destroyed. But it is equally certain, that the great distinguishing truths of the gospel are few and simple. About these there need be, and among enlightened christians there will be, no serious disagreement. There are, however, a great many subordinate points, as there are also, a great many different theories for explaining essential doctrines, which inay, or may not, be held to, and still every thing that is essential in the system be retained. For example, there have been loud and long debates as to the modus operandi in a sinner's regeneration, and as to the precise nature of that change, -what, and how much, is done by the sinner himself, and what, and how much, by the Spirit of God: while all agree in the necessity of that change, and all ascribe it to the unmerited grace of God. And so of a great many other points, more or less important, but not involving any of the essential things in religion. Now must men forever stand aloof from each other, and call each other hard names, and treat each other with coldness and suspicion, if not with positive hostility, because they cannot agree on all the subordinate questions which minds trained to habits of nice philosophical investigation, will raise on the subject of speculative theology? It has long been matter of regret and surprise to us, that so many instances are to be found, in which men, holding to all the great and fundamental doctrines of the bible, are, nevertheless, willing to contend warmly with each other, on minor points of difference between them, and who feel towards each other, (whatever they may profess to think to the contrary,) all the coldness and distrust of decided and fixed alienation. They cannot be induced to meet amicably together, and converse and pray over these points of disagreement. They studiously avoid each other, and keep on assaulting, and hurrying the assault, through the press, and thus widening, further and further, the breach between them, till both they and their friends are wearied out with the contest, and it is at length dropped; not because it is amicably adjusted, but because the parties and the public are tired of it. Whereas, one half hour's frank and friendly conversation together over the subjects of difference, would have placed, the matter on its right foundation; that is, they would either have seen alike, or would have agreed to differ, and their mutual confidence in each other would not have been disturbed. Now we must enter our most decided protest against the notion, and the practice under it, that christian brethren must separate from each other, and treat each other coldly, and use their influence to form parties against each other, and to promote distinct interests, merely because they do not think alike on some few of the unessential points in theology, or, if one pleases, on all the unessential points in theology. We dislike, exceedingly, such a spirit,

and, we think, with very good reason. It does not belong appropriately to this age of the world; it might have done better for the age of cloisters and convents; and it is inflicting incalculable injury upon the cause of our Master. The combatants in this arena of petty strife, do not see, perhaps, the injury which they are inflicting upon the cause of vital religion; but they are doing it an irreparable injury, and others see it, if they do not. We ought, perhaps, to say here, it is not discussion, that we are condemning; it is not the examination of each other's supposed errors, however thorough and unsparing such an examination may be; on the contrary, we are the open advocates of the utmost freedom of discussion, on any and all subjects important enough to demand it.

But what we protest against, is, a needless separation between brethren, and such a carrying on of the theological warfare, as goes to the sundering of the bands of confidence that ought to bind them together, and to the weakening of their hands against the common foe. Now, after throwing in this caution to the reader, lest we should be misunderstood, we must say, that we do love and venerate the man, who can so far merge in that charity which hopeth all things, the peculiarities of his christian brethren, (always supposing that these peculiarities do not touch any vital points of faith or practice.) as to extend to him the right hand of fellowship, and feel that he is still a brother in Christ, and refuse to let coldness and distrust spring up in his heart toward him. The spirit of the excellent man whose life we are here reviewing, was of this kind. He was a decided Presbyterian, born and brought up in the "old dominion" of Virginia, warmly attached to his native state, and to the form of society and of ecclesiastical matters to which he had been accustomed there, the early companion and bosom friend of Dr. Alexander, of Princeton, and as much afraid of innovations in religion, as a good man, under any latitude of our country, higher or lower, ought to be, probably. Yet it is well known, that in the feelings of his heart he sympathized warmly with New-England ministers and NewEngland revivals, and rejoiced most heartily in all the success and honor with which a gracious Providence crowned the efforts of his people in building up his kingdom in this section of our laud. Repeatedly did he visit New-England, and has left on record the grateful emotions which he felt at having the privilege of associating with his brethren here, both in the meetings of public bodies, and in the way of more private intercourse with them. Dr. Woods, we have already seen, was among his chosen friends, and for many years (until the time of his death) one of his correspondents. Of Dr. Milnor, too, of the Episcopal church, he speaks, on one occasion, in terms of the warmest commendation.

The same might be shown in relation to other distinguished theologians and philanthropists; he felt toward them the spirit of a brother, because he saw in them the likeness of his Master, because he saw them pursuing substantially the same great objects which fired his own soul, not because he agreed with them in all minor points. How lovely is true christian charity! how great and magnanimous too!

He was distinguished for the uprightness and purity of his motives. There was nothing in his character and conduct which looked like double-dealing to gain a point. His apparent object seems always to have been his real one,-always open and always honorable. No one who knew him, probably, ever suspected him of disingenuousness, or of having a secret selfish nature at the bottom. Forced as he was to come in contact with a wide diversity of human character, in his excursions through the country, and his numerous solicitations for aid in the object dearest to his heart, that of erecting a prosperous and well-endowed theological seminary for the south, his ingenuousness and purity of intention were never, we should think, called in question. You saw his whole heart and soul at once; he wanted help for his infant seminary, struggling into being through many difficulties, not eclat for himself; and you saw at once, and every body saw at once, that this was his object,—this and no other. And so in regard to the general tenor of his life; in whatever he engaged, his heart was open and undisguised, his motives were as transparent as the light, and as pure, at least, from all the ordinary forms of selfishness. He labored and wore himself out for his favorite seminary; and yet he had no other personal and private interest in its prosperity than any other good man had. He had nothing to gain from it for himself or his family. On the contrary, he sacrificed much when he consented to take the charge of it. He was then pleasantly settled over a large and growing congregation in Richmond, and had in the christian flock under his care many who were peculiarly attached to him. His reputation as a preacher at this time, was deservedly high; and it was with extreme reluctance that his people gave him up, and acquiesced in his being separated from then; and when he did leave them, to go and take charge of the new institution to which he had been appointed, it was still their desire, (and such was the fact.) that his pastoral relation to them should in form continue, and not be dissolved. At the same time, he was offered the presidency of the college in New-Jersey, by a unanimous vote of the trustees; which offer, from motives of the utmost apparent purity and disinterestedness, he steadfastly declined. He says, too, in one of his letters, that he had often been inquired of, whether he would accept of any appointment to become the head of a college, and as uniformly signified his unwillingness to do so.

Now in all this, whatever may be thought of the plan of his favorite seminary, as it respects the need or desirableness of such an institution, the purity of his intentions, and the disinterestedness of his conduct, will at least be admitted. The same thing might be evinced by a recurrence to his previous labors in the ministry, for several years, (before he went to Richmond,) preaching, as he then did, to a very scattered population, and probably to small congregations, at three different places alternately; although in the mean time he was obliged to support himself, in part, by teaching a private school. He chose to remain there, under these self-denying circumstances, rather than to break away from his people, and seek employment elsewhere.

In his friendships he was sincere and ardent. His heart was evidently formed for pure and strong attachments. He did not, we are told, contract intimacies easily or lightly, but wherever he did form friendships and receive persons into his confidence, he "grappled them to him with hooks of steel." His own attachments being strong, they naturally invited and secured from others similar feelings in return. Among his most intimate and valued friends, beyond the circle of his family connections, were the professors at Princeton and Andover; William Wirt, late attorneygeneral of the United States, and author of the British Spy, and some other works of taste and merit; William Maxwell, of Norfolk, Virginia, his biographer, and the Rev. Dr. Speece, of Augusta, Georgia. In addition to these, we find among his corespondents several members of the Randolph family in Virginia, and two or three letters from the late John Randolph of Roanoke; the late Dr. Wisner, of Boston, one of the secretaries of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions; Knowles Taylor, of New-York, whose brother, the late James B. Taylor, died at Dr. Rice's residence a few years since, on a journey for his health; Dr. Chalmers, of Scotland; and several others. The spirit of his letters, especially to his more intimate friends, is marked by a peculiar warmth of attachment, a strong interest in their welfare, and grateful recollections of former happy hours enjoyed in their society. It is impossible to read some of his letters without having the affectionateness of his disposition strongly suggested to us, and without feeling that this was one of the most striking traits, as well as interesting attractions, in his character.

He took large and comprehensive views of things. His mind was fitted less to dwell among the minuter objects and relations of a small circle of vision, than it was to expatiate over a larger field, and take in a wider range of objects; not so much because his powers of mind were not adapted to close and careful investigation, as because his inclinations led him to put forth his powers in another direction. He looked to see what could be done for

others, besides his own parish or state, and beyond the present passing generation of men. He saw the deplorable destitution of ministers which there was, not only immediately around him, in Richmond and the vicinity, but in all the southern country. And he rightly judged, that the tone of moral and religious feeling in that great and important portion of our country, could never be elevated to what it should be, without a greater number of wellqualified heralds of the cross. He thought, also, that young men trained for the christian ministry at the northern institutions, would, on many accounts, be less likely to suit the people at the south, and be useful among them, even could they be procured, than young men born and educated on the spot, and whose habits and feelings should be congenial with those of the population among whom they were to labor in winning souls to Christ. While, therefore, it was his plan for the present, to procure all the properly qualified young men from the north that he could, to go down and labor among the people of the south as missionaries, his ulterior object was, to prepare the way as soon as possible, to raise up young men among themselves and qualify them for this work. This was the leading and favorite object of his life. For this object, peculiarly, he sacrificed his ease, expended his property, impaired his health, and probably shortened his days on earth. But he lived to see it in some good degree accomplished. Another proof of the large and comprehensive views which he was accustomed to take, is to be seen in his efforts to promote the interests of general education among the young. He not only taught a school himself, and instructed as a tutor in college for a time; but he felt so much on this subject, that he prepared and published a careful statistical view of the wants of the people, in respect to a system of general education among them; estimating the number in a given district of country around him, who were supposed to grow up almost without any instruction, and showing what would, in the course of time, be the necessary consequences of this state of things, should it continue. He also, from similar motives, established and conducted for several years a monthly magazine, (as we have already stated,) devoted to the great interests of literature and religion. This work he carried forward at great expense of time, and care, and toil, and money too, for the public good. His design was, to gain access in this way, to those whom he could reach in no other way, and to improve both their understandings and their hearts, and thus to prepare the way for the gospel to take deeper root and exert a wider influence among the people. Thus, instead of wasting his energies on little evanescent schemes, which, however successful, would have accomplished but little good, he laid his plans of usefulness broad, looked round over a wider compass, and forward into futurity, and planned and labored for generations yet to come; VOL. VIII.

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