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him, and receiving, in various ways, testimonials of the general approbation, so that he began to be regarded as one of those select and honorable few, upon whom all eyes spontaneously turn as the support and strength of the social state, he was suddenly arrested in his course, and taken from the world. The account of his death and the remarks which follow, are in a high degree impressive.

'The attack was violent, and never, for a moment, yielded to the most active medicines, which, in the conflict, seemed to lose their accustomed power. From the nature of the disease, his reason was early affected by it. Of this he was conscious, and made the greater effort to collect and compose his thoughts. At first, he succeeded, and spoke of the objects that had most interested him in life, and of the hopes and principles that had governed him, with the unwavering confidence he had felt, when his health seemed the strongest and most sure. Even when his mind wandered, religious feelings, attachment to his friends, and the desire of doing good still maintained their accustomed ascendency. But it was soon apparent, that the conflict could not be long continued, and, shortly afterwards, his reason failed altogether. His friends saw, that his separation from them was near; and those, who were connected with him through his public services, learned, that they were to lose a supporter, who had long been foremost in whatever concerned the common improvement. The expression of anxiety and sympathy, throughout the community, was remarkable. The very children, as they passed his house, stepped lightly, and were hushed from their sports; and men, in the resorts of business, spoke anxiously to each other, when they talked of their coming loss. He died on the third of June, [1826,] after an illness of eight days; and when he was buried, on the following Tuesday, the principal stores and shops in the town were shut;-a testimony of public sorrow, which has hardly been given to any one among us, who died so young, or to any one, who had borne so small a part in those affairs of the times, which most agitate men's personal interests and passions.

And what was it,' continues his biographer, that made Mr Haven's death such a loss, not to his friends only, but to an extensive community? For his personal appearance and address were neither uncommonly striking, nor uncommonly prepossessing. His talents could hardly be called brilliant, and certainly were not showy. He had less than almost any man, of that love of popularity and distinction, which so often obtains, because it solicits, general favor and regard. And he died young, at the early age of thirtysix, when most men have but just begun to render those services to society, which secure public confidence and gratitude. How was it, then, under these circumstances, that Mr Haven had gathered around him so many friends, made himself the centre of so many differing interests, and come to fill so large a space in whatever concerns the general welfare, that his death brought with it a sense of bereavement, which was felt through all classes of society? It was, because he possessed originally fine powers of mind, which, under a strong and prevalent sense of religious responsibility and by constant and faithful exercise, had been so unfolded and enlarged, that, as he was more widely known, the hopes and confidence of men resorted to him more and more, until they had come to feel, that he was already important to the best interests of the society, with which he was connected; while, at the same time, they looked forward to his growing influence and resources, as to a possession,

which would certainly be used for their own benefit and that of their children. For it was deeply felt, that Mr Haven had devoted his life to the best and highest interests of society, and had shown, even in youth, that he could contribute much to their advancement. To this end, it was obvious, all his relations in life had gradually tended, and all his efforts had become directed. At home, in the quiet and confiding circle of his domestic happiness, the principle of duty and the desire of improvement, though neither ostentatious nor burthensome, had still been perceptible above all others. In his intercourse with numerous family connexions, and still more numerous personal friends, the same influence had always surrounded him, and his religious character especially had wrought with the silent force of example, most effectually when least obtrusive; while, in the management of professional business, in the discussion of public interests, and in the use of means for promoting the progress of society, his motives had always been open and respected, and the power of the community had been freely lent to him; because all with whom he had been associated, felt, that he would use it only for the general welfare. Every year, therefore, as it passed by, had been adding to his influence and consideration, until, at last, his talents, not one of which had been suffered to rust in him unused, had, by their wise and benevolent employment, become so balanced, and the different powers of his character had become so harmoniously adjusted to each other, that men felt a sober and settled confidence in him, which they do not often feel even for the genius they most admire, or the enthusiasm by which they are most willingly persuaded. His death, therefore, was, indeed, a great loss, and was deeply and widely felt. He was mourned for, by the community, as men mourn over their personal losses and sorrows; and the crowd of those whose best interests he had so devotedly served, felt, as they turned back from his grave, that they should long look anxiously round, before they could find one to fill the place he had left vacant; and still longer, before they could find one, who would accomplish the yet greater hopes they had trusted to him for the future, with a fond and undoubting confidence. pp. xxxviii.-xl.

We have quoted freely from the Memoir, because we have been conscious that we should in vain attempt, in our own language, to do the same justice to Mr Haven's character. We must be permitted to add, for the same reason, one further paragraph, in which his religious character is exhibited, in reference to the liberal and generous standing which he maintained in regard to the differences of christian belief.

'Mr Haven was, in truth, a religious man in all things. In his opinions, which he had formed with great care, he belonged undoubtedly, to the class of those who are called Liberal Christians, in distinction from the Calvinists; and yet it is not probable, that his speculations would entirely agree with those of the leaders in any sect; for he was too deeply and solemnly persuaded of his own personal responsibility, to trust any part of his religious character to human authority. He examined the scriptures devoutly, in the unyielding spirit of Protestantism, and received with gladness whatever he was persuaded had been taught by Jesus Christ and his Apostles. His opinions, therefore, particularly on the most doubtful points of speculation, were not, at every period of his life, precisely the same, nor, at any period, precisely like the opinions of those with

whom he most associated. He, however, who pursues his christian inquiries with such candor and solemnity, is little likely to be imbued with the spirit of sectarism and controversy. Mr Haven was remarkably free from both; and in the latter part of his life especially, he seemed to be further and further removed from them. Desiring, as he did, above every thing else, the improvement and elevation of the condition and character of society, he stood on that high ground, where party dissensions never reach, and where the desire of proselyting men to a sect, is lost in the great and prevalent desire to make them wiser, and better, and happier. Although he was much surrounded with controversy, therefore, Mr Haven did not share its spirit. On the contrary, he always delighted, amidst the conflicts of party, to discover how much of the contention was for words only; and his constant effort was not, to fortify himself in his own opinions, however carefully and conscientiously formed, but to enlarge that common ground, on which all Christians may meet in confidence and charity.' pp. xxviii, xxix.

tone.

Without extending further these remarks on the character of the writer, we go on to add a few words respecting the Remains. These are writings in poetry and prose, upon various subjects, and of quite a miscellaneous character; orations on public occasions, papers for a literary club, essays for a newspaper, and letters. These, as we have said, bear distinctly the impress of the writer's character, and sustain throughout an elevated moral Some of them are upon topics expressly moral and religious; and of those which are not, there are many which offer fine illustrations of a moral and religious character. It would not be profitable to discuss the merits of the several pieces, or the subjects which they present to our notice. We think that we shall best illustrate the mind and heart of the author, and satisfy our readers, by offering to them selections from the various portions of the volume, and we begin with quoting, from his oration delivered at Portsmouth in commemoration of the landing of the first settlers, a brief eulogy of the Puritans.

'Of these Puritans, as they existed in England, from their first separation in 1566, I find it difficult to speak in adequate language. That they were men of profound learning, of unblemished morals, of heart-felt piety; that they possessed a knowledge of the scriptures that has never been surpassed, and that they understood in a wonderful degree its practical application to all the workings of the human heart and the varied incidents of human life, will scarcely be denied. I readily admit, that with this knowledge of religion, there were mingled many strange and enthusiastic opinions; that their ardor for religious truth was often inflamed into a fierce and intolerant zeal; that their love of freedoin, in its wild and impetuous course, often swept away all form, and precedent, and law. Yet with all their faults and errors, and they were full of them, the whole history of the world cannot present a body of men to be compared with the English Puritans. Religion, always a principle of energy, was with them the spring of every action. Hence there was no coldness, no feebleness in their characters. Accustomed to thoughts that wander

through eternity, they had a lofty contempt of the common pursuits and motives of human life, which, though it sometimes became a morbid exaltation of character and feeling, yet led them to make continually, without effort, and almost without consciousness, the most heroic sacrifices. Where any principle of religion was concerned, or any practice was in question that raised the slightest scruple of conscience, they disdained alike life and death, and trampled in their scorn upon every thing of power, or wealth, or glory that the world could offer. It has been said with truth, that "none can aspire to act greatly, but those who are of force greatly to suffer." The English Puritans did suffer much; and they suffered greatly. In all their trials, there was a calm selfpossession, a moral grandeur, a sustained energy. In their stern contempt of danger and suffering, there was no relenting weakness. They endured pain, because they despised it.' pp. 11, 13.

From the oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Dartmouth College, we extract a passage respecting the reformation and the bible.

'In reviewing the splendid career of human intelligence, during the last three centuries, it is impossible not to ascribe much of its progress to the reformation of Luther. That great man gave an impulse to society which it has ever since preserved. He taught men to examine, to reason, to inquire. He unfolded to their wondering gaze, a form of moral beauty, which had been too long shrouded from their eyes by the timid dogmatism of the Papal church. It is to Protestant Christianity, gentlemen, that you are indebted for the noblest exercise of your rational powers. It is to Protestant Christianity, that you owe the vigor of your intellectual exertions and the purity of your moral sentiments. I could easily show you how much the manliness of English literature, and the fearless intrepidity of German speculation, and how much even of the accurate science of France, may be ascribed to the spirit of Protestant Christianity. It is from the influence of this spirit, that the sublime astronomy of La Place has not been, like that of Galileo, condemned as heretical. It is to Protestant Christianity, that you owe the English Bible; a volume, that has done more to correct and refine the taste, to elevate the imagination, to fill the mind with splendid and glowing images, than all the literature which the stream of time has brought down to the present age. I hope I am not laying an unhallowed hand upon the Ark of God, if I presume to recommend the Bible to you, as an object of literary enthusiasm. The Bible! Where in the compass of human literature, can the fancy be so elevated by sublime description, can the heart be so warmed by simple, unaffected tenderness ?-Men of genius! who delight in bold and magnificent speculation, in the Bible you have a new world of ideas open to your range.-Votaries of eloquence! in the Bible you find the grandest thoughts clothed in a simple majesty, worthy of the subject and the author. Servants of God! I need not tell you that the glories of immortality are revealed in language, which mortal lips had never before employed!-But I forbear. The Bible is in your hands; and even now, while I am speaking its praise, "it is silently fulfilling its destined course," it is raising many a heart to the throne of God.' pp. 31, 32.

The next extract from the same performance, illustrates the advantages of religious freedom.

The prevalence of religious controversies may be regarded as another

advantage, in estimating the intellectual condition of our countrymen. Though much evil has arisen, and from the nature of things must arise, from the asperity of party contest, yet subjects of so awful a nature, and so interesting to the feelings and happiness of all, can hardly be discussed without producing some elevation of mind and seriousness of temper. In our country, the maxims and doctrines of the higher philosophy, discourses on the being and attributes of the Deity, and on the nature and destination of the human soul, subjects which among the ancient philosophers were revealed only to the initiated, are matter of daily and hourly conversation. I appeal to the record of past experience, to the general history of mankind, to illustrate the effect of religious freedom. Why is all the literature of Germany at this day confined to her Protestant provinces ? Why has Catholic Switzerland never produced a single man, eminent in any art or science, while the Protestant Cantons have been, for two centuries, enlarging the boundaries of human knowledge? Why, in fine, was Catholic France always superior in intelligence to the nations around her, to Spain, to Sicily, to Naples? Because Catholic France was never without heretics; because, even after the revocation of the edict of Nantz, subjects of religious controversy were kept alive by books from Switzerland and Holland, by the manly sense of Grotius, and the subtle infidelity of Bayle. It is impossible that men should be dull and sordid in their feelings, or low and grovelling in their desires, who are familiar with the sublime conceptions of Christian philosophy. And where many minds are ardently engaged in the pursuit of knowledge, on subjects most interesting to their happiness, the impulse is gradually communicated to other classes in the community, and extended to other subjects of research.' pp. 32, 33.

We are glad to oppose to the erroneous assertions of some extravagant clergymen of the present day, the sober judgment of a thinking layman on the subject of miracles.

'In fact, since the first ages of Christianity, the faith has been spread, not by preaching, but by colonization. Nations have become Christian as they have become civilized, by having Christian colonies planted among them; or by falling under the dominion of nations already Christian. There is a striking difference between the first establishment and subsequent extension of Christianity, to which I have already adverted. It was planted in the world by the immediate power of its divine Author, it is left to be extended by the exertions of its feeble professors; just as the understanding is the immediate gift of God; but its improvement or perversion, is left to the care of him who possesses it. For missionaries in the present day, even if their number was increased to their wildest wishes, to expect the success of the apostles, deserves a stronger name than folly or presumption. Their error consists in applying to themselves the directions and the promises given to the inspired apostles. The "foolishness of preaching," which was to convert the world, was preaching attended with miracles; but we have no promise that the preaching of uninspired missionaries shall convert the world.' pp. 49, 50.

There is truth and spirit in the following paragraph on

tracts.

"There is another consideration, sir, which with me has irresistible force. The enemies of Christianity, and the foes of good government, have hitherto found Tracts the most powerful instrument for effecting

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