of spiritual life. The terms in which he refers to his experience, in a letter to his uncle, savour more of scriptural simplicity than is sometimes found in his later correspondence. His biographer, indeed, feels it necessary to assure us that he frequently asserted, without reservation, that he was never either a Trinitarian or a Calvinist,' and we are not disposed to controvert the assertion. It is, however, impossible for a candid mind to peruse such passages as the following, without admitting that the writer was in feeling far more identified with the evangelical school, than with its opponents. He says :

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'I will go farther, Sir. I believe that I never experienced that change of heart which is necessary to constitute a Christian, till within a few months past. The worldling would laugh at me; he would call conversion a farce. But the man who has felt the influences of the Holy Spirit can oppose fact and experience to empty declaration and contemptuous sneers. You remember the language of the blind man whom Jesus healed, 'This I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see.' Such is the language which the real Christian may truly utter. Once, and not along ago, I was blind, blind to my own condition, blind to the goodness of God, and blind to the love of my Redeemer. Now I behold with shame and confusion the depravity and rottenness of my heart. Now I behold with love and admiration the long-suffering and infinite benevolence of Deity.'-Ib. p. 127.

He now returned to Newport, and remained in the bosom of his family for a year-and-half, devoting himself with unceasing ardour to his professional studies. His elder brother had removed to Cambridge, and he became in consequence the head of the house. Nothing could exceed the loveliness of his deportment. 'The mantle of his father's sweetness fell upon him.' He was the friend and counsellor both of his mother and of his younger brothers and sisters, and was beloved with a rare intensity of affection. He conducted the devotions of the family, and produced an impression of simple dignity and holiness which commanded their confidence as well as their affection. He was in frequent intercourse, at this time, with the Rev. Dr. Hopkins, who was distinguished in the history of American theology, by the advocacy of disinterested love. I had studied,' says young Channing, with great delight during my college life, the philosophy of Hutcheson and the stoical morality, and these had prepared me for the noble, self-sacrificing doctrines of Dr. Hopkins.' The views of this stern teacher made a deep impres sion on his mind. They fell in with his natural temperament, afforded scope for the self-denial of which he was capable, and addressed themselves to the generous rather than the servile sympathies of his nature.

In December, 1801, Mr. Channing was chosen Regent in Harvard University, and he removed in consequence immediately to Cambridge. The income attached to this office, though small, sufficed for his support during the further prosecution of his studies, while the duties attached to it were light, and easily discharged. His college friend, Judge White, thus describes him on his return to Harvard :

'Instead of the firm, elastic step and animated manner which used to distinguish him, he appeared somewhat debilitated by ill health, and was more remarkable than formerly for gentleness and a serious air and tone of conversation. I had thought of him as peculiarly qualified for eminence in the legal profession, and was struck with some surprise on finding that he had no ambition for any such distinction. But I soon perceived how much more elevated was his ambition. His whole soul was engaged in the sacred studies to which he had devoted himself, and he at once showed that he had already become what St. Paul charged Timothy to be,-'an example in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.' His wisdom, goodness, and sanctity, as well as his genius and intellectual powers, were strongly developed; and I began to feel in his company, what only increased upon me afterwards, a mingled affection and respect, approaching to awe, which the presence of no other man ever inspired in the same degree.'—Ib. p. 143.

His range of theological reading was more varied than profound; and his general estimate of English authorship far from favourable. In the latter point we must, to some extent, dissent from his judgment, for though other languages, the German, for instance, may supply larger and more profound critical disquisitions, we know of none in which more numerous and worthy contributions have been made to the elucidation and enforcement of Divine truths. There is much force in Mr. Channing's remark, when urging his view of English theology, that an established church is the grave of intellect. To impose a fixed, unchangeable creed,' he says, 'is to raise prison-walls around the mind; and when the reception of this creed is made a condition of dignities and rich benefices, it produces moral as well as intellectual degradation, and palsies the conscience as much as it fetters thought. Once make antiquity a model for all future ages, and fasten on the mind a system too sacred for examination, and beyond which it must not stray, and in extinguishing its hope of progress you take away its life. One almost wonders that the intellect has advanced as far and as fast as it has done, when one considers the war waged against it by civil and ecclesiastical power, and the heavy chain under which it has been compelled to move. I conceive that the tameness, frigidness, and dulness by which theological writings are so generally marked are to be attributed chiefly to the cause now stated.

The intellect, paralized by authority and established creeds, has discovered less energy in treating that sublimest and most exciting of all subjects, religion, than in discussing the most ordinary interests of the present life.'

Amongst the authors specially useful to him, our biographer mentions Butler, Law, and Edwards. The mystic piety and earnest longings for spiritual perfection, which mark the writings of the second of these distinguished men, 'touched harmoniously many chords of his religious sympathy,' while the clear, condensed thought of Butler, and the intellectual energy and suggestive character of the productions of Edwards are represented as commanding his admiration, and ministering largely to his mental and spiritual growth. Edwards's 'Sketch of his Conversion,' we are informed, he once read in part to a friend, with a voice trembling in its tenderness, and eyes softened with emotion, as being one of the most pathetic and beautiful sketches ever given of the deeper workings of the soul.'

He did not make a public profession of religion by associating himself with any church, till towards the close of his theological studies. In other ways he had done so, at Richmond, at Newport, and at Cambridge; and his profession had been recognised, and its moral influence felt, by many. Still there had been, as it appears to us, an omission of serious practical moment, which we advert to the rather, as analogous cases sometimes occur amongst ourselves. Few things appear to us more anomalous,-more wanting in order and propriety, than that any youth should be encouraged to entertain thoughts of the Christian ministry, and to devote himself to a course of study preparatory to it, without having previously made a public and formal profession of religion. The evils attendant on such a course are many and very grievous, and we should tremble for the character of the ministry, and the spiritual welfare of the church, if such cases became numerous. Were the Christian ministry a profession merely, and were outward correctness and benevolence of temper all the qualifications it required, such a course might be expedient and right. But if it involves -as it obviously does-a deeply religious spirit, an inward appreciation of Christianity, a renewal of the temper of the mind, deep sympathy with the unseen and spiritual, and an intensely eager pursuit of the salvation of men, then it is sheer folly, and treachery to the highest interests, to encourage the assumption of its obligations until its nature is understood, and its spirit largely cherished.

It is not very easy to ascertain the precise character of Mr. Channing's doctrinal views at the time of his joining the church in Cambridge. Dr. Holmes, the pastor, was a moderate Cal

vinist, and it is probable that if his biographer had furnished the confession of faith which the young disciple drew up on the occasion, a nearer resemblance would be discovered to this form of theological opinion than most readers apprehend. In later life, Dr. Channing reported :

'There was a time, when I verged towards Calvinism, for ill health and depression gave me a dark view of things. But the doctrine of the Trinity held me back. When I was studying my profession, and religion was the subject of deepest personal concern with me, I followed Doddridge through bis 'Rise and Progress' till he brought me to a prayer to Jesus Christ. There I stopped, and wrote to a friend that my spiritual guide was gone where I could not follow him. I was never in any sense a Trinitarian.'-Ib. p. 161.

He began to preach in the autumn of 1802, and in December of that year was invited by the society in Federal Street, Boston, to become its stated minister. To this invitation he returned an affirmative reply in the following February, and writing to his uncle in explanation of his views, uses the following striking and significant language. I feel awed in considering the magnitude of the duties soon to devolve on me. The church of God, purchased with the blood of his Son; the eternal interests of mankind;-what objects are here presented! I ask your prayers, that I may have grace to be faithful.' It may be well to say here the little we have to say, respecting the theological views of Dr. Channing. On some accounts we are disposed to defer it to a later period of his biography, but the passage just quoted requires elucidation, and as no material change subsequently took place in his opinions, we may as well dispatch the topic at once. Both parties we apprehend-the Unitarian and the Evangelical-have erred somewhat in the language adopted respecting Dr. Channing. He did not properly belong to either, though partaking of the character of both. By his rejection of the essential deity of Jesus Christ, he was identified with the former, while much of his language respecting the medium of acceptance with God, and the simplicity and warm-heartedness of his devotional feelings, allied him to the latter. His views on the person of Christ dissociated him from those who are popularly termed orthodox, and shut him up to the associations of their opponents: but many of his other views, and more especially his devotional sentiments, found no resemblance and awakened no sympathy, save in the region and amongst the companionships he had left. It is, doubtless, true, that he was an anti-Trinitarian; but on the other hand, he was an earnest enforcer of the observance of the Sabbath,' was a diligent promoter of meetings for social

worship, an earnest friend of Bible and missionary enterprises, and a man of continuous and intense devotion. If on the former ground he is to be identified with the Unitarian school. the latter may with equal propriety assign him to the orthodox. The truth is, he belonged properly to neither. He had some of the characteristics of both, and while we deplore the existence of what we deem erroneous, we rejoice in what wears the semblance and breathes the spirit of our common Master. The secret of Dr. Channing's position is found, as we conceive, in the following extract from his private papers. There is much truth in what he says. Every honest mind must have felt it; and if, in his effort to avoid one evil, he fell into another, it becomes us charitably to remember that we ourselves also 'are compassed with infirmities.'

'I am so much afraid of being led astray by human systems, that I wish to conform myself wholly to the Bible. Let me read it with the docility and simplicity of a child, sensible of my blindness and praying for light. Let me be fearless of consequences in pursuing the truth, and strive to keep in view the connection which binds together the sacred writings. Let me read them, not with a view to speculate, but to learn the will of my Lord and Master. Let me contemplate his character, have his example ever before my eyes, learn of his life as well as of his words, and strive to be assimilated to so perfect a model. Let me impress my mind with the importance of the Scriptures, with their superior value to human learning, and let me make a practical use of every part of them.'

'I should endeavour to form my mode of preaching, as well as of thinking, on the Scriptures. Every sect has its cant, and there is danger of being blindly led by it. Let me strive to discover the errors of the party or sect to which I belong. Indiscriminate approbation is a sure step to error. Adherence to principles, and not to men, should separate me from all parties.'-Ib. p. 158.

He was not, as it appears to us, solicitous to define his views with minute accuracy. He preferred the large, general, untrammelled phraseology of scripture, even though there might be some want of distinctness in the notions entertained. He mistrusted, and justly, logical precision in matters of Christian faith, and clung to the freedom of inspired speech. Writing, in 1815, of the Unitarians of his neighbourhood, he says:'Like Dr. Clarke, the majority of this class feel that the Scriptures have not taught the mode of Christ's derivation. They, therefore, do not call Christ a creature, but leave the subject in the obscurity in which they find it, carrying with them, however, an impression that the Scriptures ascribe to Jesus the character of Son of God in a peculiarly high sense, and in a sense in which it is ascribed to no other being.'