dom and experience, the practical parts of their profession. Here the sick and unfortunate, from every part of the country, have been collected to receive the benefit of his skill. In addition to his practice in the immediate vicinity, he has been called to visit professionally, every county, and almost every town in this state; as well as many more distant places in the neighboring states. Thus has his life been one continued scene of active, laborious, and useful exertion." In the midst of these labors, while crowned with the respect of a grateful community, and of numerous and devoted pupils, he was unexpectedly removed from life, after an illness of a few days, on the 26th of Jan. 1829, in the sixty seventh year of his age.

In estimating those qualities, which laid the foundation for a life of such distinguished usefulness, it can hardly be necessary to say, that a spirit of adventurous enterprise was one of the most conspicuous. In a weak mind, such a spirit produces nothing but a restless meddling with things above its reach; in a strong one, it is the living spring of manly and effective effort, and it carries with it into every undertaking an almost prophetic certainty of success. Notwithstanding the general activity of our age and country, there is, perhaps, no quality in which the truly able men among us are more deficient than in this. Enough, indeed, we have of weak and well-meant scheming,-of plans without unity, forethought, or application. But in all this bustle, those minds to whose presiding wisdom and systematic energy we must look for the accomplishment of every thing truly valuable, are far too apt to stand aside, and feel themselves "excused." Yet there never was a period when the well-directed enterprise of those who love their country, and have the requisite force of mind to control its character and institutions, was more loudly called for, or more amply rewarded, than at present. What might not be done to cleanse this land from its pollutions, and throw over it the anticipated beams of millennial glory, if all the power of intellect and rectitude of feeling, which are, at this moment, slumbering in the bosom of the church, could be roused and directed to their appropriate objects, by that living spirit of enterprise, which was the master-principle in the character of Dr. Smith? We see him in early life, a poor youth, in a remote and obscure village, with a contracted education, and with no pecuniary resources, forming the apparently romantic scheme of raising himself to eminence in a difficult and learned profession. We see him at a later period, a country practitioner in a region but partially reclaimed from the wilderness, undertaking by his own exertions to elevate the standard of a profession which he had so lately entered; and, without funds, without associates, without the aid of public patronage, laying the foundation of an Institution, which will perpetuate his name as a benefactor of his country. With such an example before us, what may we not hope from an ardent and generous spirit of enterprise, when it calls into action a powerful understanding, and directs its labors to the benefit of mankind!

That Dr. Smith had truly a powerful understanding, all who knew him can witness. Its power consisted, however, rather in the acuteness of its perceptions, than the amplitude of its grasp. He had a keen, discriminating, sagacious penetration of mind, quickened by exercise, and rectified by experience, which gave him a kind of instinctive felicity in detecting the remote causes of a hidden and complicated disease.

To this was added a copiousness of resources, a promptitude of decision, and an undaunted moral courage under the most trying circumstances of uncertainty and danger, which qualified him in an eminent degree to meet the exigences of every crisis. These qualities derived their highest value from beiug placed habitually under the guidance of good sense, which he possessed in an eminent degree; and which guarded him against the illusions of imagination or theory, both in himself and others.

As an instructor, Dr. Smith was peculiarly distinguished for a reliance on his own experience and observation. Though he read much, he did it rather to awaken reflection, than to control his judgment. A long and extensive practice in cases of peculiar difficulty, had given him a personal acquaintance with almost every variety of human disease. A memory at once retentive and exact in no ordinary degree, presented to him, at will, a complete map of the experience of his life. His pupils received his instructions, therefore, in the light of testimony. They listened to the dictates of his wisdom, and sought for the opinions of other men in their published works. His lectures were given in the style of familiar conversation, and the principles laid down “ were illustrated by appropriate cases, related always in an impressive and often in a playful manner, so as at once to gain the attention, and impress the truth illustrated on the mind."

In the practice of his profession, Dr. Smith was remarkable for his tenderness, assiduity, and delicate attention to the feelings of his patients. "Their faces brightened and their spirits were roused at his approach, not more by the relief which they expected, than by the kindness with which it was afforded. He watched at their bed-side by day and by night, administering to all their wants, and performing the offices of a kind friend, as well as of a skilful physician."

As a man, the most striking feature in Dr. Smith's character was a spirit of active benevolence. He had naturally uncommon tenderness of feeling; but he never suffered it to degenerate into a mere luxury of the imagination, which dwells with intense interest on fancied distress, while it shrinks from scenes of real misery. His warmth of heart made him enter at once into the feelings of all who asked his aid; and every other consideration was lost in the impulse to afford relief. "The man who to alleviate or remove the misery of his fellow men, exposes himself to cold, hunger, and fatigue, in visiting the abodes of wretchedness, penury, and even of guilt; who, when there, listens with sympathizing attention to the story of sickness, told by its miserable inmates; relieves by personal attentions their immediate sufferings, and cheers their hearts with assurances of future assistance, exhibits the fairest specimen of human benevolence. Surely, upon the head of such a man, the blessing of many ready to perish must fall."

As a citizen, Dr. Smith was a friend of good order and good morals. He always urged upon his pupils the necessity of a correct deportment, and rejoiced in the enaction and execution of wholesome laws. "So far as my personal observation enables me to speak," says Dr. Knight, "he regarded the institutions and ministers of religion with the highest reverence." We may add that in a long and deeply-interesting conversation with a friend, some months before his death, he expressed his full conviction of the truth and excellence of the Christian religion.

THE

CHRISTIAN SPECTATOR.

QUARTERLY---No. II.

JUNE, 1829.

ART. I. ON THE MEANS OF REGENERATION.

[Continued from page 40.]

In our last number, we availed ourselves of Dr. Spring's Dissertation on the means of regeneration, to call the attention of our readers to what we deem one of the most important topics in Christian theology. We have intentionally dwelt, however, chiefly on those points, which Dr. Spring was led by the nature of his design, to leave untouched; and having introduced the subject to our readers in connection with his essay, we shall give to our future remarks the form of an independent discussion.

We stated in our last number, that regeneration or conversion is a change in the heart of man, of which God is the author; that man in experiencing this change is not a passive recipient, but an active being, transferring his affections from the world to God, as the object of his supreme regard; that this change takes place, therefore, in consistency with the laws of our mental constitution; or, in other words, that God in regeneration does not alter the structure of the mind, or violate the laws of moral agency, but that he secures by his immediate intervention, in a manner which we can never comprehend, an entire and permanent change in the choice which we make between Himself and the world, as objects of supreme affection. It is equally obvious from the nature of moral agency, and from the declarations of the Scriptures, that such a change can never take place, except in the view of motives-of divine truth contemplated by the mind; or, in other words, that there are means of regeneration.

We maintained in our last number, however, that while the selfish principle continues its tive influence in the heart, no contemplation of motives--no medit. tion on divine truth, can properly be considered as a using of these means. Whatever springs from selfishness is in its very nature sinful; and who will affirm, that sin is the means of holiness, or that any act of the mind dictated by rebellion against God has a tendency to subdue or even to diminish that rebellion? Still, however, as we then remarked, there must be means of regeneration; there must be a contemplation of motives in the light of truth-a comparison of the objects of choice, which, in the order of nature at least, precedes the decisive act of giving the soul to God. To resolve this difficulty, we stated that, in our view, these preparatory acts are implied and included in the term regeneration when taken in its popular import; that when these acts are spoken of as "a using of the means of regeneration," the term regeneration is employed in a restricted, theological sense, to denote that ultimate act of the will, in which the soul under the influence of the Holy Spirit, chooses God as its supreme good; and that divine truth does not become a means to this end, until the selfish principle, so long cherished in the heart, is suspended; and the mind is left to the control of that constitutional desire for happiness which is an original principle of our nature. Then it is, we apprehend, that God and the world, are contemplated by the mind as objects of choice, substantially as they would be by a being who had just entered on existence, and who was called upon for the first time to select the one or the other as his supreme good. A similar suspension of the selfish and worldly principle, may take place, though in a less degree, at various intervals antecedent to the state described above, as included under the term regeneration in its popular import. It is in such states alone, we conceive, that the means of regeneration are ever used.

We shall now proceed, in accordance with our original design, to show

III. That those acts which are thus dictated by the instinctive desire of happiness, and which are prior to that act of the will or heart called regeneration in the restricted sense of the term, constitute the sinner's using the means of grace.

1. Our first argument on this part of the subject will be derived from those principles, which control the correct use and interpretation of language on a topic of this nature. And here we shall endeavor to present the subject in such a light, as to remove one of the principal difficulties with

which it has commonly been encumbered, as well as to support the proposition which we have stated above.

That the word regeneration may be used sometimes in a comprehensive, and sometimes in a restricted sense, is obvious, in the first place, from the nature of language. Many words in common use are complex terms, which include number of particulars, in connection with some one leading idea. In using such terms, we sometimes embrace all these particulars, and sometimes confine ourselves to the leading idea, according to the object which we have in view. The word write, for example, in its limited and specific import, denotes the act of tracing characters on paper; in its comprehensive signification, it expresses the complex act of originating and recording our thoughts In the one sense a writer is an amanuensis; in the other, he is the author of a literary production. The word faith, in its restricted meaning, is simply an act of the understanding; in its wider and more ordinary acceptation, it comprehends those affections of the heart, which correspond to the truths believed. When the prophet exhorts the Israelites, "turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die," the command most obviously enjoins that amount, at least, of thoughtfulness respecting their guilt and danger, which was absolutely necessary to a change of conduct. But when the psalmist says, "I thought on my ways, and turned my feet unto thy testimonies," a limited import is given to the word in question; and the thoughtfulness which was implied in the former case, is distinctly expressed in the latter. Repentance, in its common acceptation, includes godly sorrow and the act or purpose of reformation. But when the apostle says, "godly sorrow worketh repentance," the latter word is taken in the restricted sense of reformation alone, to the exclusion of that mourning for sin, which is always implied in the comprehensive and ordinary sense of the term. Thus, without multiplying examples which present themselves continually in the most common concerns of life, it is obvious, that words are used with greater or less latitude of signification, according to the object which they are designed to answer. Nor does the least ambiguity result from this change when properly made; for, in every such case, there are two circumstances or facts, which give entire precision to the meaning of the word. The one is, that the absurdity of any other meaning than the one intended, is too gross and palpable, to be impute to any writer or speaker of ordinary understanding. The other is, that the object of the speaker will, in all ordinary cases, be so obvious, that no honest mind can doubt as to the meaning intended. Hence, it has always