was for revivals of religion, the following fact is recorded. After some general reports had been spread abroad of the uncommon seriousness, which prevailed a few years since at Yale College; he obtained a particular and well at tested account of it, the substance of which account was published in the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine. That account he prudent ly used to relieve the minds of clergymen and others, who had entertained groundless prejudices against revivals of religion; asking them, after they had read, or heard it, what objections could be made against such a revival, and insisting on the infinite importance of it at our university, and in all our societies. But let it be remembered, that his attachment to religious revivals included fondness for the irregularities, which have some times accompanied them. All ostentation and noise, rapturous impressions, enthusiastick flights, all disorderly conduct, every thing contrary to christian decorum he disapproved and lamented. At the same time he believed that some such appearances might consist with the saving work of the Spirit, though by no means to be numbered among its fruits. Doctor Tappan was a well known and very ardent friend to his country, The struggle, which separated us from Great Britain, interested all his patriotick and pi ous sensibilities. In his publick prayers and discourses he amply poticed the state of our country, and constantly directed the eyes of his people to the alldirecting hand of Providence, which was so visibly active in our publick affairs. Neither at that time nor since could he look with indifference on the course of political events. United by the strongest affection to Vol. I. No. 2. H the cause of the publick, he warm. ly espoused the principles of those men, whom he considered as hon. est patriots. In conformity to those principles, he vindicated the rights, unfolded the dangers, and inculcated the duties of his country, without entering into the violence of party spirit, or detracting from the dignity of his station or the charitable nature of his religion. He possessed an uncommon degree of christian candour. If candour consist in thinking all religious opinions equally good, or in professing total indifference with respect to the sentiments of men; or if candour consist in thinking all men naturally virtu ous, favourites of heaven, and hopeful candidates for glory; or if it consist in believing that mankind need no essential renovation by the Spirit of God; or, finally, if it consist in forming the most favourable judgment of those, who are lax in sentiment and remiss in morals, and in the least favourable of those, who strictly adhere to the scripture standard of truth and duty; if candour consist in any or all of these, it is granted, that Doctor Tappan was not candid. But if candour is the operation of an enlarged and judicious mind, and of a benevolent, gentle heart; few characters have a better claim to it, than he. His candour did not consist in words; he was really candid in his feelings. He was an equitable judge of the characters, and a mild interpreter of the actions of men. Toward them, who differed from him in belief, he cherished a very kind and generous affection. Indeed he did not hesitate to judge any thing erroneous in the sentiments or practice of others, which really appeared so to him. Believing himself to be in the right, he believed them, who differed from him, to be in the wrong. Nor did his charity hinder him from judging those to be bad men, who gave proofs of it by their practice. But he knew too much of the constitution of the human mind, and the causes of diversity of opinion; he had too much regard to the right of private judgment, and the use of free inquiry; he was too wise, too modest, and too just to indulge in himself, or to encourage in others a dogmatical, intolerant spirit. His candour prevented him from officiously passing a condemnatory sentence upon persons or things, without just warrant. It prevented him from censuring men without the authority of scripture; from censuring them precipitately, or in the dark, before he had obtained clear evidence of facts; from forming a partial judgment; from giving way to suspicions and jealousies, without any proper foundation to support them; from venturing to judge of men's state with refer ence to divine acceptance, upon grounds not determined by the express rules of the gospel; from overlooking the excellencies of men, because of some real or supposed faults; from imputing to others opinions, which they disavowed; and from publishing their failings or sins without just occasion. Such was the character, and such the influence of his candour. It was a branch of that christian love, which suffereth long and is kind; which thinketh no evil; which beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. His charity was so far from rendering him indifferent respecting the sentiments and characters of men, that it filled him with pious grief for their errors and crimes, and gave hima lively interest in every thing, which concerned their welfare. or In short, his charity was benevolence; benevolence restricted to no particular denomination, country, or even characters; benevolence without bounds. But his charity had not the same operation toward all. Like the charity of the blessed NAZARENE, it was cordial complacency in them who loved and obeyed the truth. But toward them, whom he saw in the path of errour and impiety his charity was mingled disapprobation, compassion, and good will; disapprobation of their errours and sins, compassion for their miseries. and good will to their souls. His charity as well, as his judgment, led him to mourn the relaxed opinions of religion, which prevail at this day. Inspired with the spirit of other times, when the glory of New England piety shone forth, he greatly lamented its de. cline. The scheme of modern liberality, whether in preaching or in books, wounded his benevolent heart, and excited fearful apprehensions concerning the cause of the church. In his view it stripped the gospel of all its glory. Socinianism he pronounced to be a cold, lifeless, chilling system, the name without the essence of christianity, having nothing to arrest the attention and command the heart. It takes away, he often said, the life and soul of religion. He considered it as very near the confines of infidelity. In the spread of this and other forms of antichristian theology, he clearly saw the decay of vital piety, the peril of immortal souls, and the desolation of Zion. One instance of his mild and candid spirit ought to be particularly noticed. Religious controversy has generally produced very disagreeable effects on the feelings of both parties. We are happy to record an exception. The con troversy, in which Doctor Tappan was persuaded to engage, never broke the bands of brotherhood, which united him to his opponent. He continued to entertain a warm affection for his person, and to hold in very high esteem his abilities, fidelity, and usefulness, as a minister of the gospel. Though the Doctor never receded from the principles, for which he had contended; he often gave it as his mature opinion, that many, who embrace the sentiments of his opponent, ought to be ranked among the best of preachers, and the best of men. How seldom do we set our eyes upon a more candid disputant; upon a more mild and generous opponent; upon a more amiable man, a more pious christian, or a more affectionate, diligent, and blameless pastor? [To be continued.] Religious Communications. A LUCKY MAN. A lucky man is a phrase, which imprudent and inefficacious persons frequently apply to those, who are discreet, enterprising, and successful. When the self indulgent and idle see their neighbours rising above them in wealth or reputation, they often ascribe it to good luck. This sooths their wounded pride, and moderates their rising envy; for in reaping the fruit of chance or luck there is neither merit, nor worth. Were they to ascribe the felicity, they contemplate, to the true cause, which is the providence of God, and superior prudence and industry; it would be a commendation of their friends, a reflection on themselves, and a wound to their self complacency. The neglect, the contempt, the inconveniences, which men endure, are doubly vexatious, when considered, as the effect of their own conduct. The man, who has lost an estate or a fair reputation, to full his conscience to rest, says, "I am a very unlucky man." Chance is an imaginary power, over which mortals think they have no control. The truth is, chance does not exist; chance never fixes men in the dust,never elevates them to wealth and honour. Chance, or accident, according to the loose, popular sense of the word, may give a man the highest prize in a lottery; but chance will not continue this wealth, will not enable him to use it in a reputable manner. This is the fruit of discretion and industry. David was a lucky man ; but no man was ever more dependent on his own virtues. It might be called chance, which brought him to the camp, while Goliah was addressing his challenge to the army; but it was not chance, which directed the stone to the giant's forehead; it was skill, acquired by laborious practice. It was not chance, which taught him the enchantments of musick; it was industry and genius. It was not chance, which rendered him a favourite in the court of Saul; it was his commanding address, and pleasing accomplishments. was not chance, which preserved him from the bloody hands of Saul; it was his profound discernment, his valour, and his stral agems. It was not chance, which raised him to the throne of Israel; It it was his own great character, her, seldom acquaints her with his and the providence of Heaven. Negotio is the son of a country clergyman; he was early placed an apprentice to an enterprising and intelligent merchant. Nego tio has always been in the habit of reflecting, before he acted. When preparing a ship for sea, be examines where the vessels from the port are gone or going. He carefully considers, what commodities will probably arrive from different countries. He ascertains, what will be scantily furnished? or, if any profitable branch of traffick have been neglected, with an eagle eye he makes the discovery, and his vessels supply the deficiency. Hence it is often said, if any commodity be remarkably dear, "Negotio's ship will soon arrive deep ly laden." It seems chance to the undiscerning multitude, and they all cry out, Negotio is the most lucky man in the world. It was really his forethought, his enterprise, and genius. By his probity, industry, and intelligence, Negotio has become immensely rich. His old companions, while gazing at his ships and country seats, exclaim, what a lucky creature! business, and never asks her advice. She has the mortification to be denied many of her wishes, to see her plans rejected, her advice disregarded, and herself a dead weight in the family. She is an indiscreet, unpleasant, masculine and imperious woman. She wonders, that she cannot have the good luck of her neighbour Fidelia. Benevolus is a clergyman, his theological opinions are puritanick and unpopular. The neigbour. hood, when he settled, was agitated by the fury of polemick divinity; the people had taken sides. Two thirds of the society called and settled Benevolus; the rest with more than a proportionate share of wealth and influence were as hostile, as wounded pride and party violence could make them. Benevolus is a very lucky man. He never offended his opponents; he was really concerned for them, and treated them with uniform kindness. They see the faithfulness of his ministerial duties; their opposition is extinguished; and his people are as harmonious, as any in the country. The conclusion is, what many persons call luck, is only prudence and faithfulness, accompanied with the blessing of God. PAROS. Fidelia is the most lucky woman in the world according to vulgar estimation; but according to truth she is a most meritorious character. She married judiciously, and has a happy influence ON THE over her husband. He consults her in all his affairs, listens to her opinion, and is influenced by her advice. She leads him with a silken thread, invisible to himself and the world. The fact is, she is an industrious, economical, intelligent, and pleasant companion, and has merited the confidence of her husband. Clytemnestra is a most unlucky woman. Her husband, though an ammable man, is reserved toward NEGLECT OF THE OLD THE present age seems strongly characterized by an ardent thirst for what is new, and a preference of the ornamental to the substantial and useful. This perversion of the publick taste has effected much evil in every department of science and literature : but on no subject has it shed a more baleful influence, than relig ion. Here, if in any case, the simplicity and purity oft uthshould be its capital and sufficient recommendation. Human mixtures do but deprave. Artificial embellish ments do but incumber. Novel ties are apt rather to mislead, than instruct. The liveliest veneration and gratitude are due to a host of modern divines, who have ably maintained and illustrated the truths of the gospel. Their writings frequently exhibit a most pleasing union of talents, literature, piety, and zeal. They are especially to be prized for that flood of light, which, in many instances, they pour on the truth and inspiration of the scriptures. Still it is a serious question, whether the comparative, and perhaps increasing neglect, with which divines of an earlier period are treated, be not a great evil. Many a reader perhaps may smile, at being turned back to the seven. teenth century, for instruction in divinity. But it is the writer's confident opinion, that a considerable portion of the most judicious as well, as pious christians of our time, are in the habit of selecting many of their favourite authors from this early period. And were their worth more generally known, and more justly appreciated, they would doubtless receive a much greater share of attention. When we look into the writings of those excellent men, we shall sometimes be struck with their inattention to the graces and embellishments of composition. This is no proof that they were deficient in literature. It is to be attributed in part to the comparative ly rude state of the language; and perhaps still more, to their feeling a noble indifference to every thing not directly subservient to their main object. They wished, not for the applause of their hearers, or readers; but for their salvation. They thought it be came them to "preach a crucified Christ, in a crucified style." They spoke from the fulness of their own hearts: they spoke a language, which went to the consciences and hearts of those whom they addressed and thus to speak, was all the eloquence at which they aimed. In those things which are of the greatest solidity and importance, it must be confessed that they excelled. Their writings display a familiar acquaintance with the sacred oracles, just and discriminating views of the doctrines they contain, with an accurate attention to their dependencies and bearings on each other. Equally unambitious of the parade of learning, the abstrusities of metaphysical disquisition, and the charms of rhetorick, they convey the sublimest ideas in the simplest expressions. Unfettered by human systems, and resorting to the pure fountain of inspiration, they present us with scriptural sentiments, supported by scriptural evidence, and clothed in scriptural language. They neither defraud us of those rich stores of various instruction contained in the bible, nor affect to be more communicative than its munificent Author. Where it speaks, they faithfully echo its language. Where it is most emphatical, they are so too. Where it is silent, they are silent with it. Hence their writings will be found eminently calculated to promote the life and power of religion. Replete with alarming descriptions of human depravity, guilt and wretchedness; with striking exhibitions of the riches of redeem. ing grace, with accurate discriminations between the saint and sinner; with faithful expostulation, and pungent reproof; with soemn warning, and melting entrea |