religious world has been taxed to the utmost. Its patience has been tried beyond endurance, and the worst consequences have followed. It is time the evil should be checked, and we shall be glad to find that the sounder judgment and better regulated sensibilities of the rising generation enforce it.

No such objection can attach to the biography of Dr. Channing. He was a remarkable man, and he rendered remarkable service. He rose into life when such an intellect was much needed in America, and though we deeply deplore some of his views, we do honour to his integrity, and are grateful for his manly independence. His mental history is deeply interesting. The progress of his mind is a study, whilst his amiableness, his childlike simplicity, his social virtues, his fearless advocacy of what he deemed truth, command our affection even where we deem his conclusions erroneous. We have no notion of his having been, in any proper sense of the term, a man of genius. The higher faculties of the creative intellect were not his endowment, but he had others of a noble order, and he used them with diligence and sincerity. We are painfully alive to the fact, that on some vital points of theology he failed to apprehend what we believe to be the mind of God; but we should do no credit to our own convictions, and should fail, most certainly, to illustrate the Christian spirit, if, on this account, we refused him the honour that is his due. There has been too much of this amongst religious controversialists of every class. None of us can throw a stone at his neighbour. We are all implicated in the charge, and it will be for the interests of truth, and will redound to the honour of our profession, if a better temper be maintained in our discussions. Dogmatism and arrogance may offend, but they cannot convince. It may suit the heated temper of a controversialist to throw discredit on an opponent, by impugning his motives, or misrepresenting his views, but charity in the meantime is wounded, and turns away with a sorrowful countenance from the unholy strife. Contend earnestly for the faith' is an apostolic injunction, and we cannot obey it too implicitly; but in doing so let us guard against the ebullitions of passion, lest our temper do more discredit to the claim than our reasonings can render service. The evil we deplore has affected, more or less, every department of religious controversy, but has tinged with special bitterness the productions of the evangelical and unitarian schools. It is impossible to read the works of Horsley and Priestley, of Magee and Belsham-to say nothing of living writers, without feelings of mortification and grief. On whichsoever side truth may be. and of this we entertain no doubt, it is humiliating to see so

much uncharitableness, and wrath,'and evil speaking, mistaken for Christian faithfulness and zeal. Were the Master, whom we serve, to take part in such discussions, it would doubtless be in the language of reproof. Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of,' are the words in which, according to our judgment, his estimate of many controversialists might best be conveyed. We have said enough to indicate our feeling, and in the spirit of these remarks we hasten to notice many events of Dr. Channing's life. The volumes that record them contain an instructive history, and set forth a moral which may profitably be treasured in the hearts of Christian men.

William Ellery Channing was born in Newport, Rhode Island, on the 7th of April, 1780. His father was a lawyer in extensive practice, and, on the adoption of the federal constitution, was appointed district attorney, an office of importance, the duties of which he was well qualified to discharge. For several years before his death he was the leading counsel of the state of Rhode Island, and was so engrossed by his profession as to have little time for the culture of his domestic relationships. His disposition, however, was eminently loveable, and the placidity of his temper frequently interposed in aid of the more excitable temperament of Mrs. Channing. The most remarkable trait in my mother's character,' Dr. Channing wrote in subsequent life, 'was the rectitude and simplicity of her mind.

She was true in thought, word, and life. She had the firmness to see the truth, to speak it, to act upon it. She was direct in judgment and conversation, and in my long intercourse with her, I cannot recollect one word or action betraying the slightest insincerity.' Young Channing inherited a physical organization at once delicate and vigorous. He is said to have 'been an infant of rare loveliness,' and to have been an idol' from his birth. Such an organization is a dubious blessing, and in the present instance it entailed on its possessor a large measure of suffering. It was through much sorrow, severe conflicts, protracted and sometimes overwhelming depressions, that he attained the tranquillity and cheerful confidence which marked his maturer years. Out of the depths of a depression which few minds have known, he rose to a serenity that clothed the world with beauty, and gave animation and brightness to his views of the future. Like most boys of the period he was first put to a dame's school 'the mistress of which sat in a large easy-chair,' with the symbol of authority by her side, and not unfrequently called it into requisition. His improvement was rapid, as his natural disposition aided the discipline of his instructress. He was in consequence referred to as a pattern to others. I wish

in my heart,' said an excellent woman under whose instruction he was subsequently placed, to an unruly boy, 'you were like William Channing.' 'Oh!' exclaimed the child, 'I can't be like him, it is not half so hard for him to be good as it is for me.' This simple anecdote is strongly illustrative of character, and points out one feature which must be borne in mind, if the future career of William Channing would be understood. At the school of Mr. Rogers, to which he was afterwards removed, the system of flogging, then in vogue, appears to have been maintained with customary severity, and his sensitive mind suffered keenly from it. It is strange that so brutal an expedient should have retained its sway so long. But so it was, and Channing furnishes another instance in disproof of its fitness as a general rule. That corporal punishment may occasionally be resorted to with advantage, nay, that in some cases it is absolutely needful, we admit, but it should be the exception, not the rule, the ultimate resort when all other means have been tried in vain. Fear is amongst the lowest motives which can be appealed to, and should never be substituted for the higher moral influences, until their force has been fairly tried. To the scenes enacted at the school of Mr. Rogers, we owe much of the indignation with which, in after life, Dr. Channing protested against the infliction of corporal punish

ment.

As a scholar, William Channing 'was patient and diligent, but not remarkable for quickness of perception.' He was thought somewhat dull, and stories are told to the disadvantage of his early latinity. All that is actually known,' says his biographer, 'is, that he gained the respect of his instructors, held a high rank among his fellows, and awakened the warm hopes of his friends.' To his home education he was greatly indebted for the formation of his character and the direction of his moral energies:

'His father's dignified reserve towards his children has been noticed with regret by the son; but still the pervading sweetness of his manner must have captivated them, and won their confidence, for, by universal report, his presence was like a sunbeam-so did cheerfulness, serenity, good humour, pleasantry, kind regard for others' rights and feelings, and assiduity to please, surround him with an atmosphere of love. The mother was not of a placid temperament; but the father, in the gentlest tone, would soothe her when disturbed by household perplexities, or by the children's tumult, saying, 'Do not trouble yourself, Lucy, I will make all smooth.' They who were ever under the charm of Dr. Channing's blandness, may readily conceive how much in early life he had been affected by his father's beautiful domestic character. And from the mother's scrupulous thoroughness he no less derived practical habits

of the highest use. She was the boys' overseer in the care of the garden, when, as they grew strong enough, they were entrusted with tools; and she was a judge difficult to please.

But though so little under the direct influence of his father's character, William's principles were yet permanently fashioned by his example. From him and from his grandfather, and their conversations on public questions, at the critical period when our nation was settling into order after the upheaval of the revolution, and when Europe was shaken from end to end by the first waves of the grand social earthquake, he doubtless derived that spirit of patriotism and interest in political movements by which he was afterwards characterized. His father, as a leading lawyer, and an earnest supporter of the federal party, necessarily received at his house various eminent men who visited Newport. Washington dined there when on his northern tour, and it can be readily understood how much a boy's enthusiasm, already fervent from hearing him always spoken of in terms of honour, was heightened by thus seeing the Father of the Nation face to face. Jay, too, and other men remarkable for political, professional, and literary talent were there, waking by their presence generous ambition.'-Vol. i. pp. 25—28.

His father attended the ministry of Dr. Stiles, a moderate Calvinist, and appears to have shared in his views. Dr. Stiles was a man of an affectionate and large spirit, who 'desired to heal the wounds of the divided church of Christ, not by a common creed, but by the spirit of love,' and his influence, probably, contributed to form some of the best features of Dr. Channing's character. The general strain of preaching, however, was dry and technical. It had little to interest a youth of warm and ardent temperament. It lacked the animation and life of Christian theology. It wanted a vivifying soul, and was, consequently, powerless on such a heart as Channing's. 'I can distinctly recollect,' he remarks, in after life, when recurring to this period, the unhappy influences exerted on my youthful mind by the general tone of religion in this town.' He was always more of a meditatist than an observer. The inward was more prominent to his view than the outward. He loved rather the spirit than the forms of truth, and shrunk from the popular delineation of religion, however accurate its skeleton, or nicely adjusted its various parts. Incalculable mischief is done to Christianity by such cold and formal exhibitions. The best minds are the most liable to be injured by them. The unreflecting and phlegmatic may not perceive or feel the wrong, but the warm-hearted and the spiritual, the youth of ardent temperament and of deep emotion, the spirits who feel the necessities of their being, and require some higher aliment than the schools can furnish, or the mere forms of system minister, are agonized by the deficiency, and driven to seek in other, and, it may be, forbidden quarters, for

what the pulpit ought to furnish. It was so in the experience of Channing, and cases of a similar order are not wanting in our own day. We frequently complain of the pulpit having lost its power, but is it not the fact that-speaking of it as a whole-it has all the power it merits? Is it not a weak and pitiful thing compared with what it should be? Where are the warmth and earnestness, the depth of feeling, the largeness of view, the sympathy with humanity under all its aspects, the divine simplicity, the godlike elevation of purpose, which characterized its better days? It is become unhappily a profession, and mere verbal correctness or oratorical skill are in too many cases substituted for that mental consecration which led the Apostle of the Gentiles to exclaim, 'Woe is me if I preach not the gospel.' Before the pulpit can be restored to its former influence it must regain the elements of its strength; must become manly and catholic, free from the technicalities of the schools, and more intent on the delivery of God's message, than on the maintenance of any creed. We have a few illustrious exceptions, in which the strength and devotion of a former age are united with the milder and more benevolent spirit of our times, but we regret that such cases are exceptions. They must become the rule, in order that the ministry should answer its legitimate end, and secure the respect and confidence of the age.

The domestic arrangements of his father's house appear to have been, in many respects, favourable to the developement of the religious principle. An aged relative, a woman of much piety and sweetness,' was accustomed on the afternoon of Sunday to receive the young people in her room, and to unite with them in reading the scriptures, or some other book of devotion. His mother, also, sought to familiarize them with the same inspired records, and a confidential servant, of masculine energy, kind though firm, and of strong religious principle,' followed up with unceasing watchfulness the counsels of Mrs. Channing. 'Her views,' says our author,' were uncommonly cheerful; and it would be interesting to learn how far suggestive words, dropped by her in conversation, became germs in the boy's receptive heart, which ripened into the theology of his manhood.' An anecdote of his boyhood, which he himself records, illustrates at once his own religious impressions, and the serious injury sometimes done to sensitive minds by the want of consistent earnestness on the part of their seniors. The young are much more accurate observers than we imagine, and their conclusions are in the main right. Few Christian parents, probably, can read the following without self-reproach :—