associations from what we could desire. We are aware that it would be no difficult thing to digest from this work an argument that would bear powerfully upon one of the great religious controversies of the day; and this use we perceive has actually been made of it, on the one side and on the other; but we confess for ourselves that what we have to say upon the Unitarian controversy, we prefer to say in a different connection. Our sympathies have been too much awakened in reading the work to allow us to write about it controversially; and we shall be satisfied if we can present to our readers a faithful epitome of it, leaving to their own reflection the lessons of truth and wisdom which it suggests. Dr. BUCKMINSTER was born at Rutland, Mass., Oct. 3, 1751. He was a descendant of Thomas Buckminster, who emigrated to this country in 1640 and died at Brookline, near Boston, in 1656. He was the son of the Rev. Joseph Buckminster of Rutland, a highly respectable clergyman who figured somewhat in some of the religious controversies of his time. His mother was a daughter of Rev. Wm. Williams of Weston, a niece of Rector Williams of Yale College, a grand-daughter of Solomon Stoddard, and a cousin of Jonathan Edwards. She seems to have been in every respect worthy of her distinguished ancestry; and in the character of both the mother and the father was there a pledge that whatever parental fidelity could do, should be done, for the right development and training of the intellectual and moral faculties of their son. Happily their efforts were rewarded in his becoming everything that parental affection could desire.

As he was the eldest son, his parents seem from his birth to have intended him for the ministry. His early years, however, were spent upon a farm; and to this no doubt was owing much of that vigor of constitution, and fine development of the physical powers, for which, in after life, he was not a little distinguished. Where or by whom he was prepared to enter college is not known; but he became a member of Yale College at the age of about fif

As his father had been graduated at Harvard, it is supposed to have been through the influence of his mother's relatives, the Williamses and Stoddards, that he was sent to New Haven. He sustained himself in every part of his collegiate course with great credit, though he was more particularly devoted to the classics, and especially to the Latin, in which his attainments were very uncommon. He graduated in 1770; and after that, continued three years at college upon the Berkeley foundation, pursuing such studies as his taste and inclination dictated. The whole period of his connection with the college, as a student, a resident graduate, and subsequently as a tutor, was signalized by one of the brightest constellations of genius that Yale can boast in any part of her history; and it was no doubt owing in a measure to the peculiarly favorable intellectual atmosphere he was privi

leged. to breathe, that his own mind became so vigorous, elastic and symmetrical.

His tutorship commenced in 1774 and continued till 1778; so that the whole period of his residence at the college was eleven years. During this period he formed friendships with many individuals who afterwards attained to great eminence and usefulness, which he most gratefully cherished to the close of life. His attachment to the college also was exceedingly strong; and one of the greatest luxuries with which he could indulge himself was to return to it on an occasional visit.

Sometime during his residence at New Haven, his mind was so intensely directed to the subject of religion as a matter of personal concern, that for a while, it had well nigh lost its balance. That he had an uncommonly nervous temperament there is no doubt, nor can it reasonably be questioned that such a temperament modifies the religious as well as other exercises of the mind; and yet we see nothing to indicate that his sense of the evil of sin or of the depth of his own corruption, was greater than we suppose to be often experienced by individuals who are not chargeable with any tendency to enthusiasm. He seems to have regarded this as the period of his conversion to God; and accordingly he drew up for his own satisfaction a somewhat minute confession of faith, together with a form of self-consecration to God and his service. His confession of faith is an epitome of the Assembly's Shorter Catechism; and to this system of doctrine he held with unyielding tenacity, connecting with it all his hopes for eternity, as long as he lived.

Having gone through a course of study at New Haven, preparatory to the ministry, and commenced his labors as a preacher with great acceptance, he received a unanimous invitation from the North Church in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, to become its pastor. This invitation he accepted, and was ordained January 27, 1779. It was a circumstance of some interest that he should have succeeded two men of so much note in the literary and theological world, as President Langdon and President Stiles; and yet he has little to fear from a comparison with either of them; for in the graces of oratory, in fervent and pathetic appeals, in almost every thing that gives one power over an audience, he cast them both greatly into the shade.

By his settlement at Portsmouth, Dr. Buckminster was introduced not only to a highly important field of ministerial labor, but to one of the most opulent, fashionable and highly cultivated circles in New England. But whatever temptations to lower the standard of duty or of piety may have been involved in his relations to the surrounding world, he seems never in the least degree to have relaxed his high sense of obligation as a Christian minisWhile he did not hesitate to avail himself of the legitimate

benefits of mingling freely in the most refined and elegant society, he never made himself all things to all men in any sense that implied the least dereliction of duty. While he always stood firm to his honest convictions, and never even seemed to look complacently on what he deemed an undue conformity to the world, while he always showed himself the spiritually-minded Christian as well as the faithful and dignified Christian pastor, he was not wanting in those innocent and graceful amenities which at once recommend religion and constitute much of the charm of social life.

Between three and four years after his settlement, he was married to a daughter of Dr. Stevens, of Kittery Point, a man of great dignity of character, and so much distinguished in his profession that he was at one time chosen President of Harvard College. His daughter, who became the wife of Dr. Buckminster, was a lady of the rarest endowments and graces both intellectual and moral, and had been educated entirely by her father, and with all that vigilance and care which the most fervent parental devotion towards an only child could inspire. By this marriage he had four children, the first of which died in infancy, the second was Joseph, of whom we shall presently speak more particularly, the third was afterwards the wife of Professor Farrar, of Harvard College, and the fourth was Mrs. Lee, the gifted biographer of her father and brother. Mrs. Buckminster died in 1790, when Joseph, her only son, was six years old. The widowed husband was well nigh overwhelmed by the shock occasioned by this bereavement, and for a time, owing no doubt to a constitutional mental malady, he sank into the deepest spiritual gloom.

About this time, (1790,) he was chosen Professor of Theology of Phillips Academy at Exeter, but his attachment to his parish and to the duties of a parish minister was too strong to allow him to listen to the invitation. In due time he emerged from the cloud which had temporarily settled over him, and for many years held on, without interruption, in a course of cheerful and successful devotion to his work.

In the year 1793 he became connected in marriage with a daughter of the Rev. Isaac Lyman of York, and sister of the late Theodore Lyman, Esq., of Boston. This connection proved an eminently happy one, not only as it gave to him a companion every way fitted to a person of his temperament and to a clergyman occupying so responsible a station, but also as it gave to his children a mother whose kind solicitude and guardian care they never ceased most gratefully to appreciate.

Dr. Buckminster lived with his second wife about twelve years. She was removed by death in 1805, and this bereavement, like the preceding one, occasioned him such deep distress that serious apprehensions were entertained by his friends that it might in

volve the sacrifice of his reason, if not of his life. The second Mrs. Buckminster left several children at an age especially to require a mother's care; but this exigency was happily met by the mature and well-developed characters of his elder daughters, who addressed themselves to the additional duties that were thus devolved upon them in the family, in the loveliest spirit of devotion and self-sacrifice. The father, in due time, recovered his accustomed spirits, and passed along through several years, without any return of the mental malady by which he had previously been so much afflicted. He formed a third matrimonial connection in 1810. The lady to whom he was united was the widow of Col. Eliphalet Ladd; and though by this marriage he came in possession of a handsome estate, he evinced his magnanimity by returning it to his wife by bequest, the very day after they were married. The third Mrs. Buckminster survived her husband, and has died within the last few years.

Notwithstanding the several years of health and cheerfulness which Dr. Buckminster now enjoyed, giving promise, as it seemed, of an extended and vigorous old age, at the close of the year 1811 his friends began to observe indications of the return of his old malady, and to entertain fears that his sun might go down in dire eclipse. He was now evidently the subject of deep seated physical disease; though it manifested itself chiefly in its effect upon the nervous system. In May, 1812, it was proposed that he should try the effects of a journey into the western part of the state of New York; and though he seems to have had no expectation that the result would be favorable, yet to gratify his friends he was induced to make the experiment. On the last Sabbath in May, he preached and administered the communion to his church, with great solemnity and unction, and under a strong impression that it was the last time his voice would ever be heard within those walls. The next day he left home, accompanied by his wife and one or two other friends, with a view to extend their journey only as far as Saratoga Springs. They traveled by short stages for several days; but it soon became apparent that they had little to hope from the effect of the journey. Though he occasionally conversed with great animation and interest, it was evident that his disease was doing a rapid work, and that the silver cord must quickly be loosed. On the 9th of June, they stopped at a solitary inn in the town of Readsborough, Vermont, where they were visited by a tremendous thunder-storm. During this time he sat in a chair, uttering the most tender and touching petitions, and fully aware that he was on the borders of the world unseen. His tranquillity was now complete, and he scarcely uttered himself but in expressions of devout submission and grateful confidence. When his wife entered the chamber the next morning, (for she was not apprehen

man.

sive that his end was so near,) he said to her with perfect composure, "My son Joseph is dead." Mrs. B. assured him that it was not so, and that he had only dreamed it. "No," he replied, "I have not slept nor dreamed; he is dead." Shortly after this, Dr. Buckminster gently breathed away his spirit; and the intelligence was soon received from Boston, that his son had died, as the father had so confidently declared, a few hours before. Dr. Buckminster was interred at Bennington, and a sermon was preached on the occasion by the Rev. Mr. Marsh. A discourse was subsequently addressed to the bereaved congregation at Portsmouth by the Rev. Mr. Parker, minister of the South Church, which was published. The event seems to have spread the deepest gloom over not only his own immediate society but the whole town; and many of us remember the strong sensation of grief which the intelligence excited even in distant parts of the country. Dr. Buckminster, it is conceded on all hands, was no common We suppose that if, for more than a quarter of a century, the half dozen most popular preachers in New England, or perhaps we might add in the whole country, had been named, he must have been included in the list. It is understood that he was never remarkable for profound investigation, and that his sermous were not distinguished for that high intellectual tone by which the pulpit productions of a few of our greater lights have been marked; nevertheless they were rich in evangelical truth, brought out in a perspicuous and attractive form; they were as far as possible from being tame or common-place,-for so ready was his invention, and so fertile his imagination, that he would throw an air of novelty around the most familiar truth or the most common event; and they were delivered with a glowing fervor and an almost matchless ease and grace, which gave them a power alike over the most intelligent and the least cultivated of his hearers. His discourses on the Sabbath were usually written, but he was never doggedly chained to his manuscript, and he could at pleasure, and often did, leave it altogether, and expatiate with great beauty and force in some field which had suddenly opened up to his contemplation. He was remarkable for aptness in the choice of his subjects; and would often bring out the peculiarities of an occasion so strikingly in his text, that the first impression on his hearers would be that the text must have been made for the occasion. He was eminently felicitous in prayer; indeed for copiousness, freedom, appropriateness, in his devotional exercises he was perhaps unsurpassed. As an illustration of this, we have heard the following anecdote. After he had offered a prayer in connection with some public service,-if we mistake not, it was a service commemorative of Washington,-Chief Justice Parsons remarked on leaving the church,-"Well, I give him no credit at all for that prayer." "Why not?" said the