Shurtleff, replied, "that the Lord had kept him concealed in an obscure place for a blessing to the College. The impression which his first appearance made was not lowered by further acquaintance. I do not recollect hearing a complaint of him from any member of the College. All his intercourse with them was tempered with the utmost kindness, while he was punctual and faithful in every official duty." p. 41.

Owing to the ill-health of the pastor of the College Church, the pulpit duties, for a considerable period, devolved on Dr. Tyler. It was during these double labors of president and pastor, that the great revival of 1826 occurred in the college and the village. One of the rich results of this was, that eighteen out of the thirty-six who then constituted the senior class, and twenty out of the forty-one in the sophomore class, entered the Christian ministry. They included the best scholars in College, several of whom became marked men of the age.

Dr. Tyler originated and executed the plan of raising ten thousand dollars, as a permanent fund for the aid of needy students preparing for the ministry. Thus he perpetuated his influence in those classic halls, where he will continue to speak for Christ and the church to the generations to come.

After six years of useful and honorable connection with the College, he received a call from the second church in Portland, Maine, to become its pastor. "When I received this call," he says, "I felt a new hankering after the duties and joys of the pastoral life; and believing I could resign my office without putting in jeopardy the interests of the College, I concluded to do so." p. 40.

The readiness with which Dr. Tyler adapted himself to new and difficult positions, was the result of a kind of omnific element in his character, by which he did well whatsoever he attempted. No two men, in some particulars, were more unlike than Dr. Tyler and that eminent preacher and pastor, Edward Payson, whom he succeeded. As to their conceptions of the fundamental Christian doctrines, and their adherence to the accredited symbols of doctrine, they were in harmony. They were accordant in their deep convictions that all theo

logical errors are in moral antagonism to this doctrine, and, as they approximate its vital centre, first check the religious growth of the church, and then choke it out. In these fundamental points, the succession was apostolic and happy. But in their nervous organism, the two men were temperamental opposites. One was subject to the extremes of mental depression, sometimes to the depths of despair; the other knew nothing of this, but was remarkably uniform both in his moods and tenses. Occasionally, when Dr. Payson "attempted to read the Bible, every verse almost, afforded ground of doubt and caviling." When Dr. Tyler read it, the effect was to confirm him more steadfastly in the faith. The former was sometimes carried up, on the mount of emotional elevation, to such displays of the divine goodness, as almost forced him to exclaim, "Lord stay thine hand." The advance of the latter was so even, on the ascending plain of the Christian life, and his sense of the divine excellence, and his holy aspirations, were so increased by each step of upward movement, that he was evermore saying, "I beseech thee, show me thy glory."

As preachers, they were in equal contrast. Dr. Payson was impassioned, with no deficiency in method or logic. Dr. Tyler was methodical, with no want of earnestness; and when aroused, he was sometimes vehement. The one was more imaginative and original; the other more logical and constructive. Dr. Payson found the church in Portland without a written confession of faith, and after a twenty years' ministry, during which large accessions were made to it, he left it as he found it. Dr. Tyler wrote a few comprehensive articles of belief, explained them, and their use, " talked with the brethren," and "in the last year of his ministry, which was of only five years' duration, had the pleasure of seeing it adopted with entire unanimity." Says one, who enjoyed the advantages of his whole ministry there, "Dr. Tyler came to Portland in the right time. While he remained, he was the right man in the right place. His clear and logical mind was needed to systematize the truth which had been so faithfully and pungently preached by his beloved and almost adored predecessor. No man that ever preached in this city, could set before his

hearers more clearly the controverted and mysterious doctrines of the Gospel." p. 52.

Dr. Tyler's sincere love of truth, and his skillful unfolding and defending the Christian system here referred to, led providentially to the part he took in what is sometimes called the Connecticut controversy. The time for a full and impartial history of those discussions has not come. When it does arrive, and the historic spirit shall reduce the materials, by analytic and constructive processes, to logical and lucid statements, this period will make no indifferent contribution to the history of doctrines. The Orthodox Congregational Churches were just coming out of the conflict with Unitarianism, a system holding little as positive, except its negations of the old historic doctrines, and the paternal, unpunishing character of God. The humane, æsthetic, and classically elegant Channing, and the philosophic, dialectic Ware, were the negating leaders. Worcester, Woods, and Stuart stood forth as the defenders of a historical and Biblical Christianity. The results of that discussion, as given by the late Dr. John Pierce, a Unitarian clergyman of Brookline, Mass., speak well for the temper, discretion and executive ability of the Orthodox polemics. "You appeal to me as a matter-of-fact man. Take, then, one result of my investigations. In May, 1812, there were 138 settled ministers in the State, liberal enough to be Arminians, and 179 Orthodox. In May, 1846, there were but 124 of the former class, and of the latter, 417, making a liberal or Unitarian loss of 14, and an Orthodox gain of 238."*

The germ of the Connecticut controversy sprang up in a different view of original sin, from that which had been generally received by the New England Churches. It was distinctly enunciated that no human being can become depraved but by his own act, and that the sinfulness of the race does not pertain to man's nature. Two other views, standing in logical alliance with these, were set forth in their dependent or defensive relations to them. One is that regneration is

* Life and Labors of Dr. Worcester, Vol. ii, p. 379.

the act of man's own will or heart;-the other that self-love, or a desire of the greatest happiness, is the primary cause of this specific, regenerative act, and of all acts that fix supremely on any object. These views were connected with the intimation that God's system of moral government is not the best; that the prevention of moral evil would have made it better; but, from the nature of things, this could not be effected. These principles were regarded by their promulgators as of vital importance in their bearing on the remedial system. Enunciated with the distinctness and confidence of earnest men, intent on contributing improvements to theology, they constituted the occasion of what, among evangelical Congregationalists, was the theological controversy of the age. It is with no eye to polemic adjudication, but simply in a historical light, that they are here referred to in the necessary evolution of our subject. We have aimed to represent them correctly, as they were given in the original documents, and were understood by those who dissented from them and made them the occasion of the controversy, though we are conscious of the liability to misconception. Should the statements, from this liability, make, in any respect, a wrong impression, it must be placed to the account of the writer, and the conductors of the Journal be held free from responsibility. It is also but just to say that some of them were modified by limiting statements and implications. The announcement of regeneration as the act of man's will, was accompanied by the statement, that whatever part of the process, in the popular use of the term, is produced by the Divine Spirit, some part of it is preliminary to such interposition.

It is further, we believe, accordant with the results of the discussion, and due to candid, historical criticism, to state that the happiness theory, notwithstanding the logical skill and ability with which it was urged, failed here, as it ever has done, to attach itself permanently to the living and enduring body of theologic thought. This body grows in compactness and beauty, by incorporating what of homogeneous and vital substance is evolved in the passing epochs and ages. But this

theory, if perchance, for a time, it adjoins itself, soon falls away as irregular and excrescent.

These theological positions, as taken in the Concio ad Clerum of Dr. Taylor, in 1828, and elaborated in his Articles on the Means of Regeneration, in the Christian Spectator of 1829, drew the attention of many good men to the movement, both in New England and out of it. If close inspection discovered here and there saving limitations, it also disclosed what were regarded as perilous compromises. With or without reason, there was a fear for the foundations, and all the more from the fact that the reputed assailants were sapping and mining within the citadel. After consultation, the defense was opened. Earnest, acute and strong-minded Christian men were on both sides.

Among the opponents of what thus came to be known as the New Haven Theology, Dr. Tyler held a prominent place. This was not from any particular fondness for controversy, for he was a quiet and peace-loving man. And whenever he engaged in theological conflict, it was not that he loved peace or his brethren less, but truth and Christ more. He did not make haste to

"Ope the purple testament of bleeding war

at the first note of the bugle; but when he entered the field his armor was not put off till the war was ended.

He was a native of Connecticut, and had been fourteen years one of its prominent pastors. Dr. Taylor was for a time a college classmate, and the two were personal friends. He had heard rumors of the New Haven movement, but gave little heed to them, for he knew that

"Rumor is a pipe

Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,

And of so easy and so plain a stop,

That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,

The stiff, discordant, weaving multitude

Can play upon it."

In a visit to his native state in the summer of 1829, he collected the pamphlets which had been issued on the subject, and on his return sat down to a calm and careful examination.