THE DIVINITY STUDENT.

WHEN the red man, retreating before the face of his white brother, forsook those romantic and beautiful regions that are watered by the Holstein and the Tennessee, divine Providence planted a people there remarkable for their attachment to the Bible. Bible history, Bible doctrines, and Bible religion were "the joy of their heart, and the boast of their tongue." Divine truth, revealed in the word of God, was their "meat and their drink." It was their daily study. It was their literature. It was the theme of their social intercourse. It was the source of their consolations on earth, and the foundation of their hopes for immortality. The learned theologian, who chanced to pass that way, was delighted and surprised to find, in a new and comparatively rough country, among a plain, unostentatious people, views of divine truth clearer than the crystal streams that flowed among their towering hills, and sweeter than the salubrious breezes that fanned their mountain country. The following anecdote will show with what accuracy and discrimination the great doctrines of the gospel were studied in the west, at that early day :—

Dr. Anderson, now of the theological seminary at Maryville, had undertaken the supervision of an academy in Knox county, Tennessee, as early as the year 1807. Among his students was Abel Pearson, a youth

who had embraced religion, and who, while pursuing his literary studies, exhibited great appetite and capacity for investigating the sublime philosophy of the plan of salvation. This greatly delighted his instructor, who, though then quite a young minister, had already begun to display those gigantic powers, as an expounder of Bible truth, which have since been so astonishingly unfolded to the edification and joy of the church. Learned critics, in comparing the Iliad of Homer with the Odyssey, have alleged that the latter poem, having more narrative and less fire than the former, bears the marks of old age. An elegant writer observes, that if the Odyssey has the marks of old age, it is the old age of Homer. In like manner, I observe, that if the academical instructor above mentioned was then but a youth, it was the youth of Isaac Anderson. And of the student I may say, that he was a student worthy of his instructor.

This young man, before completing his studies, was providentially called into a neighboring county, where strong prejudices were entertained against the Presbyterian church, their doctrines were denounced as horrible, and even their ministers were assailed as learned Pharisees, who preached merely from their learning, without any heart-religion, &c., &c., while their assailants claimed a species of inspiration, and professed to preach from the immediate teachings of the Spirit.

Our student, after a long day's ride, stopped for the night at a house where one of these semi-inspired preachers had an appointment to deliver a sermon at candle light. The congregation assembled, the minister came, and our young man took his place in the audience unobserved. The preacher proved to be a red-hot

Arminian, who boasted that his back had never been rubbed against the walls of a college, and whose zeal for the propagation of his peculiarities was sufficiently ardent, though his knowledge of polemic theology was somewhat scant. Endowed, however, with lungs of great power, he commenced and "reported progress," dealing, as he moved along, many a merciless blow at John Calvin, John Knox, John Wetherspoon, and others, all and singular, who have maintained the doctrines of the Presbyterian church, warning his audience, in the mean time, to use his own expression, against "the great, high-learned men," who were preaching in some of the neighboring counties. While in the full tide of his boisterous declamation, it appeared, doubtless, to his own mind, quite problematical whether Calvinism would be able to survive the terrors of that dreadful night; but as all preceding storms had been succeeded by a calm, so it turned out in this case. The sermon

closed. The audience dispersed.

The preacher, who

remained with the family for the night, found himself in company with our student.

Preacher. Do you live in this neighborhood, young

man?

Student. No, sir.

Preacher. Where is your home?

Student. In Knox county.

Preacher. Are you a member of the church?

Student. Yes, sir.

Preacher. To what church do you belong?

Student. I am a Presbyterian.

Preacher. What! a Presbyterian ?

Student. Yes, sir.

Preacher. Why, do you believe the confession of

faith?

Student. Certainly I do, or I should not be a Presbyterian.

Preacher. Why, sir, the confession of faith says, "God has, for his own glory, foreordained whatsoever comes to pass."

Student. It does.

Preacher.

And do you believe that?

Student. Certainly I do. Do not you believe the Bible?

Preacher. Yes; but that language is not in the Bible.

Student. The Bible tells you that God "worketh all things after the counsel of his own will," which is precisely the same doctrine.

Preacher. But the doctrine of predestination is unreasonable. My reason revolts, whenever it is presented.

Student. I will examine that point with you, if you will answer each question I ask you, and then stick to the answer you have given.

Preacher. I can easily do that; but you could not make me acknowledge that doctrine in a lifetime.

Student. I should not want a lifetime, unless it were a very short one. Remember, now, this is our agreement: you are to answer each question I ask, and then stick to the answer you have given.

Preacher. Yes, that is the agreement. Now, come on with your questions.

Student. You acknowledge that God foreknows all things from eternity?

Preacher. O, yes; but then foreknowledge is a very different thing from predestination.

Student. Well, we will not dispute about that

now.

You admit that God foreknew all events from

eternity?

Preacher. Yes, certainly. I am not going to deny God's foreknowledge.

Student. Well, stick to that.

Preacher. I maintain the doctrine of God's foreknowledge as firmly as you.

Student. If God from eternity foreknew all future events, it must have been in one of these three ways: First, he saw that future events would spring into existence by chance, without any cause; or, second, he depended on some other being to bring them about; or, third, he had determined to bring them about himself. Can you think of any other method? or was it not in one of these three ways?

Preacher. I suppose it was in one of these methods. I can think of no other.

Student. Well, was it the first? Well, was it the first? Did God from all eternity behold all future events springing into existence by mere chance, without any cause?

Preacher. No, I think not.

Student. To maintain that, would be atheism. Preacher. Yes, to say that God from eternity saw that all future events would spring into existence without any cause, merely by accident, would be atheism.

Student. Well, there was a period when no being existed but God, I mean the period before he had created either man or angels. Could he then have depended on any other being to bring into existence the future events which he foresaw, when there was no other being in existence ? Preacher. Certainly not. Student. What do you say?

But what next?

But one other method