صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

MR. O. DEWEY. "In more than half the pulpits of this land, representations of God are constantly made, which every generous and honorable man in the community would shudder to have applied to himself." Unitarian's Answer,* p. 8.

MR. J. PIERPONT charges the Orthodox with "representing the government of heaven as administered upon a principle, which not the most profligate government on earth dare adopt, and not the most abject people on earth could or would endure for a moment." Sermon on Retribution, p. 19.

Mr. M. L. HURLBUT. "We regard it" (the Orthodox system) "as being, in its essential principles and tendency, opposite to the true spirit of the Gospel.' And we believe, that if the influence of its peculiar doctrines, by themselves, should be fully imbibed, and permitted to operate uncontrolled, it would turn the fruits of the Gospel into wormwood." Presumptive Arguments &c., p. 6. Quotations from Unitarian writers similar to those here given might be multiplied indefinitely; shewing that Unitarians themselves, either in express terms, or by necessary implication, admit the principle, on which the reasoning of our correspondent is based-that they regard the Orthodox as differing from them, not in mere circumstantial points, but in the vital, essential doctrines of the Gospel. How then, we ask, can Unitarians wish to hold ministerial and Christian fellowship with the Orthodox? How can they wish to exchange pulpits with those who, being Calvinists, "are not Christians-who worship different Gods-and who " deny the Lord Jesus"? How can they wish to exchange pulpits with those, who "represent God as worse than the devil”—who make such representations of God, as "every generous and honorable man in the community would shudder to have applied to himself"-who entertain "views of God's government," which they behold "with horror and grief," and which they regard as "unspeakably dreadful "-views "which not the most profligate government on earth dare adopt, and not the most abject people on earth would endure for a moment"? How can they wish to exchange pulpits with those, whose system they "regard as being, in its essential principles and tendency, opposite to the true spirit of the Gospel," and which, if "fully imbibed, and permitted to operate uncontrolled, would turn the fruits of the Gospel into wormwood"?-The subject is too plain to be misunderstood even by a child. Unitarians urge us to an exchange of pulpits, not because they believe what we teach, or regard the difference in sentiment between us and them as merely circumstantial, or have the least fellowship or complacency in our reli'gious system and views; but because, if we comply, they shall have our countenance and aid in propagating another gospel, and we shall in fact do their own work for them better than they can do it for themselves; or, if we refuse, they will have a popular subject of outcry against us, and will be able to fill the surrounding region with the odious sounds of bigotry and exclusion. And we call upon all fair and honorable men to judge between us and them in this thing. We call upon an enlightened and impartial public to mark and reprobate that spirit which, while it denounces the whole Orthodox system in terms of no measured disapprobation, is still craving the fellowship of Orthodox ministers, and censuring them, if this is withheld.

* Published and sanctioned by the American Unitarian Association.
One of the Vice Presidents of the American Unitarian Association.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

To the Editor of the Spirit of the Pilgrims.—Sir,

I am a minister in a retired country parish, and have little to do in the prominent movements of the day. I have my sphere of duty among my own people, and have neither time nor talent to take hold of things that are going on at a distance. Congratulations, therefore, or apprehensions, coming from me, may seem, perhaps, hardly worthy of your notice. Yet, without saying half that my heart prompts me to say, I might speak of both.

I have looked with pain at the events of past years, in and around the metropolis of New England. With pain I have seen what my heart loves, lightly esteemed; and what constitutes the only foundation of hope for man, assailed with a spirit that wanted nothing but arm and sinew to overturn it. It has indeed been pain without fear; for I have still felt that the foundation is sure, and the seal upon it as legible as ever. But it was painful to see an error gaining ground, under the influence of which many would probably be led to ruin, as unsuspectingly as the ox is led to the slaughter, not knowing that it is for his life.

I have therefore been ready to congratulate myself, at various recent events in Boston and the vicinity. I was glad to see a gathering there of men of learning and influence, and I trust, men of God. There they can move on more efficiently, and can more effectually act the part of Moses when he "stood in the breach." I was glad to see the system of colonizing churches adopted. And in the operations of this system, I have felt not a little satisfaction, as I have seen the uncertainties of hope give place to the certainty of actual experience. I was glad of these things, because I believe in the necessity of means in order to accomplish any thing in the moral world, as truly as in the natural. But I believe also in the dependance of means on divine influence; and what my apprehensions deprecate, is, that in the increasing strength and increasing success of the cause of truth, this will be forgotten.

I did especially congratulate myself, when, all things being, as they seemed to be, in readiness, I saw announced "the Spirit of the Pilgrims." Nor has the gladness of that moment been at all abated, by what has appeared in the numbers already issued. It has increased. And I now see, or seem to see, a spirit hovering over us, which many were ready to think had fled the hemisphere, and sought asylum in its celestial home.

At movements such as these, I have been ready to congratulate myself, and the friends of truth, throughout our Commonwealth

"BY THIS SIGN THOU SHALT CONQUER"-the motto of Constantine in his wars with the Pagans, at the first establishment of Christianity.

and country. They are movements which betoken a Christian enterprise, and a Christian boldness, that are truly commendable. As I have looked at them, I have thought of Paul in the midst of Mars Hill, and before Felix, Festus, Agrippa and others. I have thought of the Tishbite, when he was left alone and they sought his life. Who has not admired his boldness, when, near the close of the three years and six months' famine, he dared to look Ahab in the face and rebuke him? Who has not admired his firmness, when he singly braved the host of Baal's prophets, and confounded them?

1

But with all these preparations and movements, so full of promise, I have feared lest somewhere there should be a heart that feels strong, not in the Lord, and in the power of his might, but in the wisdom of man, and in an arm of flesh. I see arrangements made, that are highly encouraging; I see a gathering together of human power, a system of operations adjusted, a spirit putting all in motion, and much that is cheering to the heart that loves the truth, and the eye that sees by faith. But with all this, I remember there is a strong propensity in the heart to say, " Hath not my hand gotten me these riches?""Is not this great Babylon that I have built?"-And I remember, too, that it is written, "Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm." Oh the defeat attendant on that curse! It shows me Elijah, not looking Ahab in the face, and boldly rebuking him for his sins-not braving the host of Baal's prophets and covering them with confusion, but intimidated, and fleeing with cowardly weakness from the presence of Jezebel. It shows me churches calling back the churches they have colonized and planted. It shows "the Spirit of the Pilgrims" giving way, and timidly shrinking before the deniers of the Lord that bought them. And my heart exclaims, Shine not the day that must behold these things.

Let him, then, who has put his hand to the plough, look right on; and at every step, let his heart say, "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it ;"-" It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." Yes, let there be this, and my voice shall be the voice of thousands, when it says, God speed you; and all that is meant by this language shall be fulfilled upon you. Let an arch stretch over Boston, from Warren's grave to Dorchester heights, and on it let there be written in glowing capitals," Nor BY MIGHT, NOR BY POWER, BUT BY MY SPIRIT, SAITH THE LORD." Let this be transcribed to every heart beneath it; and then the voice of prayer shall begin to ascend for the needed influence of the Holy Ghost-and the spiritual heavens shall begin to gather blackness and a rain of righteousness shall be enjoyed-and a voice from above shall soon proclaim, "The darkness is past-the conflict is ended-the arm of the Lord hath gotten him the victory, and praised be his holy name."

TENNENT.

REVIEWS.

THE COURSE OF TIME, A Poem, in Ten Books. By Robert Pollok, A. M. Boston, Crocker & Brewster, 1828.

It has been said by many, who would have done well had they kept their reading to plain prose, that Cowper owed his popularity mainly, if not wholly, to the religious character of his writings. Such men, we fear, are as ignorant of the true spirit of the world, as they are of the true spirit of poetry. Should we reverse the remark, and say, that the truth of his poetry made him popular in spite of his religion, we might be thought harsh; we will therefore leave his fame to the safe keeping of men of sincere piety and just taste.

It must be acknowledged that the works of Cowper are familiar to a large class of people who might not have known so much as his name, had not his original and poetic mind been sanctified by the Gospel of his Lord and Saviour. It was because he sang by the waters of Siloa, as well as those of another stream, that there gathered to him so many of the humble and the poor; and it is because of this that we so often meet an odd volume of his works, with its worn leaves and soiled cover, in the remotest parts of the country, and in some of our more plain dwellings.

The true poet, he who sees through manners into the hearts and minds of men, will often be conscious of as grateful a feeling, at finding himself in a lowly abode and in this worn dress, as in the apartment of a bookish man, and in a costlier and cleanlier attire. He knows that the seriousness which religion brings to the mind, and the tenderness which the touch of God's Spirit gives to the heart, will help to his being understood and felt, when he speaks simply and truly to man's better nature. He is conscious, too, that learning, instead of warming into full life the very little of the poetic temperament with which some are originally blessed, often strikes it with a death-chill; that the giddiness of fashionable life deranges the even workings of the mind, and that its frivolousness dries up the flow of the affections faster than the hurrying streams from the mountains are sucked in by the hot and thirsty sands; that learning is apt to be proud, and that pride is scarcely more fatal to religion than to poetry; that the fashionable will be thoughtless, and that thoughtlessness is a surer destroyer of those sympathies upon which poetry depends, than even poverty and toil with all their attendant ills. In defiance of all the outward show of superiority and distinction which the world may make, it is the heart of man which the poet mainly regards for his subject, and with which he chiefly has to do. In this, prince and beggar are both alike to him, and all beyond this is of little or no concern.

He looks for sympathy rather from those of plain sense and kind affections, than amongst those whose intellectual has been cultivated at the expense of their moral nature, or whose affections have been left to run broad, and shallow, and to waste, over the surfaces of things.

No doubt a well cultivated intellect is essential to the full comprehension of an art, which springs from the highest exercise of our faculties; but as the grand superiority of poetry consists in the due combination of our moral with our intellectual natures, taking in not the brain alone, but the whole and perfect man; so those whom religious principle has led to self-examination, to the study of motives, and the strength, and action, and tendencies of the passions and affections, and to the straight or wandering courses of the thoughts, are, through this sacred discipline, in a fairer way to receive right impressions and form true estimates of the essentials of poetry, than those of over-labored minds, but untrained hearts.

Besides, those who have considered religion only partially would be surprised were they to observe how much it does for the intellect simply; and to find how well balanced, how searching and discriminating, how quick of perception, how clear, and calm, and open to intellectual beauty, may be the mind of that man who has read little else besides himself and his Bible.

No man can be truly religious without much thoughtfulness; and this quality does that for the mind which a multitude of books could never do without it. Yet how many read, and how few think. How many go about showily dressed in the robes of other men, who, should they be clad in what alone they themselves had wrought, would be wretched and naked indeed. The grave and learned man, though differing widely in acquisitions, is often led to feel, and if a good man, to feel with pleasure, how nearly upon an equality are his mental powers, and those of the common-sense Christian. He who has read most, and at the same time thought most, sees most quickly and clearly how little, after all, is the difference between himself, and him whom the world calls a plain man. If the rightly learned man perceives this, how much more clearly does the man of originality, of imagination and sentiment -the poet, perceive it; he who holds an almost supernatural communion with the minds and hearts of his fellow-men. How often has the fresh thought and homely yet strong turn of expression of those in ordinary life struck him; and how often, on the other hand, if he is wise and has learned self-control, does he sit silent and abstracted, while the literary and the fashionable are retailing opinions upon master-works of imagination. In short, how much truer and better is a simple moral education, than much learning with little nature.

Let us not be understood as taking from the culture of the

« السابقةمتابعة »