nignity of his countenance; his dignified, but gentle manners of the ancient school, expressing, by an exterior politeness, the goodwill he felt conciliating the confidence of the young, so that while they waited for his wisdom,' they were not afraid to utter their own. Nor may I wholly omit, among these familiar recollections, his ancient costume, retained to his death amidst all the changes of the times, the graceful and appropriate ornament of his old age, connecting for us of a younger generation the days that have been with the days that are; and preserving for us, as it were, a living portrait of the Fathers." p. 28.

Dr. Prince, at his death, was one of the oldest clergymen in the country. How little it was expected when he was young, that he would attain to such longevity, may be gathered from the following note.

"Dr. Prince was, in early life, of an apparently infirm constitution. His parents were apprehensive that they might not be able to rear him. At the time of his ordination his health was very delicate. One of the members of the society, before the vote inviting him to settle was put, observed in the parish meeting, that he concurred with all the rest of the society in admiring Mr. Prince very much, as a preacher and as a man, but that he doubted about the expediency of settling a minister, whose complaints were so alarming that the society would in all probability very soon be called to bury him. Dr. Orne rose in reply, and admitted that Mr. Prince was in feeble health, but stated that he did not apprehend his condition to be so immediately alarming as the other gentleman supposed, and concluded by saying, that Mr. Prince might get over his infirmities, and live to bury them all. He did live to bury them all."— pp. 7, 8.

Another statement is given in the printed Discourse, which is worth inserting for the remarkable coincidences it records. Dr. Prince, in a note to his Sermon on the death of Dr. Barnard, has said with reference to that excellent man,

"It is a singular concurrence in our walks of life, and one that has some effect upon the social feelings, that we were educated at the same university, and after we graduated kept the same schools in the same town; studied divinity with the same clergyman; settled in the ministry in the same town; the same person preached our ordination sermons; and we received honorary degrees from the same university.

"It is a singular continuation of this series of concurrences," says Mr. Upham, "that, without any knowledge of the fact, on my part, at the time of the funeral of Dr. Prince, the same text VOL. XXI. 3D. S. VOL. III. NO. II. 24

was selected, from which the late Dr. Wadsworth, of Danvers, preached Dr. Barnard's funeral sermon. It is still more singular, and as affecting as it is singular, that, owing to some error at the time, Dr. Prince's remains were carried down into the wrong tomb, and laid by the side of Dr. Barnard's. He followed him, literally, from the cradle to the grave."

P. 17.

Dr. Prince, especially in his declining years, had the common allotment of trials and infirmities, yet who could refrain from pronouncing him, in the intervals of his distressing malady, a fortunate old man; fortunate from the many interesting recollections of his early days, when, as a Boston boy, and with the curious and active habits of his mind, he mingled with the popular movements of 1765, stood in King's Street on the fatal night of March the Fifth, 1770, saw the tea thrown overboard in 1774, and was an eyewitness of almost every intensely exciting incident, which in this quarter preluded and introduced the Revolution; fortunate from his settlement over a church, the first which our fathers gathered on these shores, and second to none in the kindness and generosity it has always felt and practised towards its pastors, and from his connexion with a colleague whose truly filial regard for him was as manifest while he lived, as in the affectionate tribute he has here paid to his memory; fortunate from the circle of enlightened and liberal-minded men, into whose society he was cast by his situation, and whose intimacy he enjoyed for so many years, and from the tender and untiring assiduities with which he was watched over, as life was wearing to a close ; fortunate, above all, from his own gentle, tolerant, and trustful temper, and from that rational and unaffected piety, which did so much to alleviate his sufferings, and to smooth and cheer his passage to a better world. ED.

ART. IV.-1. The Way of Salvation: a Sermon, delivered at Morristown, New Jersey, Feb. 8th, 1829, by ALBERT BARNES. Seventh Edition. Together with Mr. BARNES'S Defence of the Sermon, read before the Synod of Philadelphia, at Lancaster, Oct. 29th, 1830; And his "Defence" before the Second Presbytery of Philadelphia, in Reply to the Charges of the Rev. GEORGE JUNKIN. New York: Leavitt, Lord, & Co. Boston Crocker & Brewster.

1836. 12mo. pp. 226. 2. The Vindication, containing a History of the Trial of the Rev. ALBERT BARNES, by the Second Presbytery, and by the Synod of Philadelphia. To which are appended, New-Schoolism in the Seventeenth, compared with NewSchoolism in the Nineteenth Century: By the Rev. GEORGE JUNKIN, D. D. Philadelphia: Wm. S. Martin. 1836. 12mo. pp. 159.

FEW events have occurred in this country, since its settlement, of a nature to give to liberal sentiments such an impetus, as the prosecution and acquittal of Mr. Barnes. This will probably be among the last trials for heresy, which will ever occur in this land. The Angel of Truth is now unbound. Every man may now investigate the Scriptures for himself, as well in as out of the Presbyterian church, with none to molest or make him afraid. Heresy is a word which can no longer shake the nerves of the most timid inquirer. A few years ago, Mr. Barnes was an obscure individual, with considerable talent, some learning, and more independence than was thought to be allowable under the iron yoke of Presbyterianism. There he would have remained, useful in his sphere, but incapable of extensively influencing the church, either for good or evil. But persecution has made him a Hercules, or rather a Briareus, with his hundred hands, to pull down the bulwarks of Orthodoxy, from one end of the continent to the other. He has powerfully enlisted the sympathies of the religious world, first as a confessor, and now as a conqueror; and it is hard to say in which capacity he is most glorified. His books are circulated through the length and the breadth of the land; and thousands are now thanking him in their hearts, for vindicating for them the freedom of thought.

In the sketch we now intend to give of the prosecution and

acquittal of Mr. Barnes, it will not be necessary to enumerate the causes which have led to the present troubles, which distract, and threaten to dissolve, the Presbyterian church. We have already, in a former number of this work,* given, at some length, the train of events, which, in the opinion of the best informed of that denomination, has led to the present state of things. That Mr. Barnes should have been the individual selected to bear the sins of the whole liberal party in that communion, seems to have been a matter of pure accident. The sentiments for which he was arraigned and tried, have long been held in it, and, in many instances, without any effort to conceal them.

Mr. Barnes is a graduate of the Princeton Theological Seminary, and was first settled in Morristown, New Jersey. In February, 1829, during a revival in his congregation, he preached a sermon, which was afterwards published "by request," entitled "The Way of Salvation," in which he attempted to give an outline of the Christian system, as he understood it. It contained the germ of all he has since developed in his various publications, and was orthodox enough, one would suppose, to satisfy any reasonable man. But so thought not some of his brethren.

About this time he received an invitation to become the pastor of a very ancient, numerous, and respectable society in Philadelphia, in the place of Dr. Wilson, lately deceased. This invitation he accepted, and preparations were made for his removal to the metropolis. In the mean time the sermon had been circulated, and weighed in the balances of orthodoxy and found wanting. Some passages, in particular, gave so much alarm to certain of the strictest sect, that they were determined to prevent his installation. They therefore sent in a protest against the leave granted by the Presbytery of Philadelphia, to the First Presbyterian Church, to prosecute the call. This protest, however, was overruled, and Mr. Barnes was installed.

It ought here to be said, that there had been a difference in opinion, and no little alienation of feeling, among the Presbyterian clergymen of Philadelphia and the vicinity, before this time, which had been carried so far as to result in a separation, and the formation of a new Presbytery, on the principle of elective affinity, or, in other words, similarity of sentiments.

* For November, 1834.

It was the New-School Presbytery, it will be readily understood, who received and installed Mr. Barnes.

Of this a formal complaint was made to the General Assembly, as an irregularity, and the authors of the protest were proceeding to take summary measures with the offenders, when they discovered, to their utter astonishment, that there was a majority of the whole Assembly in favor of what they, in their haste, were about to put down as heresy! Nay, as on their own principles a majority can decree what orthodoxy is, they were in fact the heretics.

In this position the affair rested for some years. In the mean time, New-Schoolism, as it is classically called, was understood to be on the increase. The Old-School men sounded the alarm that "the church was in danger;" but the more they sounded it, the more the heresy grew, and the wider the schism became. Mr. Barnes was publishing a popular work on the New Testament, in which the Apostolic writings were interpreted in consistency with his system, and it was meeting with unexampled reception and success. When he reached the Epistle to the Romans, the grand magazine of Calvinism, and was taking text after text from the foundation of that system, the zeal of the Old-School men could no longer be restrained. It was resolved that Mr. Barnes should be prosecuted for heresy, and his party put down; or, at any rate, it should be ascertained whether the doctrines held by him " were any longer to be tolerated in the Presbyterian church." The instrument chosen on this occasion, was the Rev. George Junkin, D. D., president of Lafayette College, in Pennsylvania, very well calculated to be the champion of Calvinism, by the especial fact of having apparently been asleep, like Rip Van Winkle, for the last twenty years.

a man

Notice was likewise given to the Presbytery to which Mr. Barnes belonged, that charges were about to be preferred against him. But it was decided by them, that a notice by letter was not sufficiently formal, and so they refused to consider the case. This objection was afterwards waved, and the charges were received. They are ten in number, as follows: I. Mr. Barnes teaches, "That all sin consists in voluntary action."

II. Mr. Barnes affirms, "That Adam (before and after his fall) was ignorant of his moral relations to such a degree, that