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perhaps, to learn that the following notice was pubfished in the last number of the Theological Repertory.
"The first bell erected in the city of Washington, and devoted to the purpose of calling together a Christian congregation for public worship, was placed, on the 30th of November last, in the belfry of St. John's Church."
We must say that we were somewhat surprised at this paragraph ourselves, although we had some previous acquaintance with the temper of the work in which we found it. But for the future, we shall be surprised at nothing which we may see in its pages; except it be, through chance, or grace, a little charity, Christian spirit, or good sense.
If it had been possible, indeed, to have supposed any explanation of this notice, or to have imagined any excuse for it, however improbable, we would have done so. We might have presumed that the editors of the Repertory had all been seized with a temporary deafness, and that though the bell of the Unitarian Church had been ringing over their heads a month before their notice was published, yet not one of them had heard it. Or we might have presumed, that though they had heard it, they were not aware that the society who made use of it professed to be Christians. We might have made these, or other suppositions, equally probable, but we were not permitted to distress our invention. By printing the word Christian in italics, they have taken pains to render their meaning as clear as possible, and to place it, in fact, beyond a doubt.
In that one short paragraph, is contained the substance and essence of all that has been said against us, by our bitterest enemies and revilers. It denies us the Christian name. It denies us a name which is
connected in our minds, and in our hearts, with all that is attractive and paternal in the character of God, all that is encouraging in the improvement of the world, all that is sacred and pure in society and in our homes, all that is most worthy in the efforts, holy in the feelings, animating in the prospects, and consoling in the hopes of man. It denies us a name, which to us, as well as to them, is a word of promise and salvation, and which we are determined never to resign. All the abuse and misrepresentation of our opponents put together, has never gone beyond this point. A Mason from the pulpit, and a Miller from the press, with all their vain declamation, have been able to say no more.
But it will not do.. In this inquiring age, people are not to be long misled by mere assertion. They better know how to value their reason, and their Christian liberty. Though they may be for a time deceived, they will not forever join in the cry of defamation and persecution. They will look into the truth of these charges, and condemn the authors of them, and impose on them the necessity of silence. Aye, the readers of the Repertory themselves will turn away offended from paragraphs like the above.
There is one decided quality, if no more, to which that work may lay claim, and that is consistency. Several extracts from it, bearing the same character with that which we have now made, have before ap peared in the Miscellany. But we seriously assure the editors, that in their case, consistency is no virtue. Entire inconsistency with all that they have hitherto advanced on this subject, would be a vast deal more to their credit.
Before we leave them, we are desirous of letting our readers see that they are consistent in their creed, as well as in their spirit, and that they do not hesitate to pursue their doctrines to their consequences. The following precious verse commences a piece entitled "The Babe of Bethlehem." It is in the same number which furnished our other quotation.
"Thou infant of Bethlehem! poor lonely stranger,
Thou infant of Bethl'hem, art--God over all.”
The second title of the Repertory is the Churchman's Guide. Let who will be guided by it, we are most firmly convinced, that so long as these are its ways, it will never serve as a guide to us.
Obituary Notice of the Rev. Dr. Osgood.
DIED, on the 12th of December, 1822, in Medford, Massachusetts, the Rev David Osgood, D. D. pastor of the congregational church in that town; in the seventy-sixth year of his age, and the forty-eighth of his ministry.
When such men as Dr. Osgood die, it is a duty which we owe to society, to preserve some memorial of their lives. Without having performed actions which fame will be busy in announcing, or occupied stations which will give them a prescriptive demand on the pen of the historian, they have exhibited talents and virtues, and exercised influences, which should in some way be registered, that their names and characters may not be entirely lost, when their footsteps on the earth are
worn out, and their friends have followed them into the grave. The example of such men is useful; much more so, we think, than that of many who have had volumes filled with their exploits, and marbles erected to their memory. It teaches us, among other lessons, that there have been much genius and excellence in the world, which circumstances have not brought acquainted with great opportunities, but which have been continually exerting their uncelebrated, though important and benignant sway, over the principles and actions of a large portion of mankind.
The subject of the present notice was a man of no common endowments and character. He possessed talents which enabled him both to acquire knowledge with readiness, and to impart it with advantage. His mind, if it was not uncommonly original, was uncommonly bold and independent. His feelings, if they were sometimes too easily excited, were always generous and affectionate. Remarkably honest in his temper, and free in the expression of his opinions, he sometimes gave offence by what he said, but the offence was unintentional, and when discovered, was anxiously repaired. His character was without stain.
At the age of twenty-five, he graduated at Harvard University in Cambridge; and three years afterward, on the 14th of September, 1774, was ordained as colleague with the Rev. Mr. Turell, over the Church in Medford. By the death of Mr. T. in 1778, he was left sole pastor, and continued to discharge the duties of his office alone, till he was called to his eternal reward.*
His funeral sermon was preached at Medford, by the Rev. Dr. Holmes of Cambridge, and published at the request of his bereaved people. We have been indebted to it for our dates.
In his pastoral care, he laboured most assiduously and usefully. A long life was devoted to it. The constant and filial respect of his parishioners while he was with them, and their deep sorrow for his loss, testify in the most unequivocal manner that he was a faithful shepherd.
As a preacher he was very distinguished. His matter was copious and sensible, and drawn, for the most part, from the moral precepts, and the undisputed doctrines of the Gospel. His style was animated and forcible; and his manner one of the most striking which we have ever witnessed. His looks, his gestures, and the tones of his voice, were altogether peculiar to himself, Without being at all like those which we are accustomed to find in what is called a finished speaker, they were so energetic, so full of meaning, so truly elo, quent, that they arrested and enchained the most profound and delighted attention. We shall never forget his patriarchal appearance in the pulpit. No one whe has witnessed, could ever forget it.
But the most remarkable trait perhaps in Dr. Osgood's character, and that which we particularly wish to notice and preserve, was his uncommon liberality of feeling. In doctrinal opinions he ranked himself among the orthodox; but in narrowness, in exclusiveness, in Pharisaical pride, in excommunication of those who differed from him in belief, he would join with no man. If he had been so disposed, he might have become the demagogue of a party; he might have presided in the meetings of the infallible, and pointed out what men should believe, and what they should not believe, and who should be supported, and who should be denounced, and have said, as others have said, to the ad