art in the last generation, she has now devoted herself to the service of God in that most admirable institution, while she still paints portraits, when her services are sought for, with the view of adding some little to the scanty resources of her order, and to enable the sisters to extend their glorious mission more widely among that lost class of miserable beings for whose salvation they devote their lives. We should rejoice, indeed, if this reference to the religious in question, should induce any of our readers to employ the talents of what is now so rare, a nun portrait painter.

ART. VI. Memoir of William Ellery Channing, with extracts from his correspondence and manuscripts. 3 vols. London, Chapman, 1848.

FOR the last twenty or thirty years, there have been

few names more prominently before the British and American public than that of Dr. Channing. This position he owes far more to the chaste dignity and massive impressiveness of his style, than to the originality of the principles of which he was the advocate. In truth, the leading principles of which he was the champion, are by no means new, nor were the objects which he had in view in any manner peculiar to himself. The doctrine of Unitarianism with which his name is associated, and which he has done more than any individual of our times to propagate and extend, is one that dates as early as the age of Arius; and it is one towards which all scepticism in matters of religion must inevitably tend. All sects are moving towards it, with different degrees of velocity indeed, but yet with sure and unerring certainty; and in it they must all inevitably end, if they be not preserved from such a termination of their career by taking a timely refuge within the sheltering pale of Catholicism. In America, the descendants of the early Puritans had long forgotten the minute doctrinal differences of their fathers, and settled down into an almost general indifference to religious truth and religious observance. The flood of infidelity and vice which the French Revolution let loose on the world, reached even the remote provinces of the west, and poured out on American society some of its most revolting ingredients. The almost frantic extravagance of early Puritanism was sure, in due course, to subside into the morbid calm of indifference; but it required the additional ingredient of French frivolity to produce that condition of profane and blasphemous impiety for which many parts of the American Union were notorious towards the conclusion of the last century. Perhaps, in the ordinary course of things, a reaction of some kind or other was to be expected; or at least, it was to be hoped, that some minds, shrinking with an instinctive delicacy from the corrupting influences by which they were surrounded, should turn towards some brighter object of ambition, and yearn after some more real excellence, even though that excellence was never to be attained. In other and happier circumstances, and with the aid of true religious guidance, these yearnings would probably, under the guiding influence of God's grace and Spirit, have conducted the inquirer into the true path of knowledge; but, as in the case of Channing, they only led through the barren and fruitless region of human inquiry and philosophical investigation. If the character of Channing possesses an attraction for us, and enlists the services of our pen, it is not because he was the advocate of human freedom and equality, nor for his services to the cause of social progress, however eminent these unquestionably were; but because it exemplifies to the reflecting reader the consequences of unrestricted religious inquiry. His opinions, objectionable as they are, and heterodox as they must be pronounced by the selfsatisfied and contented episcopalian or dissenter, will, on examination, be found nothing more than the natural result of Protestantism, when fearlessly and consistently worked out to its legitimate and logical consequences.

William Ellery Channing was born at Newport, Rhode Island, on the 7th of April, 1780. He was the third child of William Channing and Lucy Ellery. Notwithstanding the prophetic assurances of future eminence which the fondness of friends discovered in some of his early actions, we are still disposed to think that his youth must have been passed in a manner not very dissimilar to that of his juvenile associates. Notwithstanding all we have heard and read on the subject, we must be permitted still to adhere to our old opinion, that man, to be a man, must first have been a boy. It is our opinion, that since the time of Adam, there has been no exception to this philosophic maxim, and we must therefore be allowed to consider all the recorded deviations from this general rule, as so much incense offered by family affection at the altar of its idolatry. We may therefore pass over unnoticed much of the early part of the volumes before us. In 1794, he entered Harvard college, Massachusetts, as freshman, being then in his fifteenth year. It was here that, according to his biographer, the young student was to experience a new birth. To those who have been familiar with the calm and well-ordered code of discipline to which the Catholic religion subjects the minds of those whom it takes under its especial care, and more especially those who have been brought up beneath its protecting wing in the several colleges and seminaries over which it sheds its holy influence, this new birth may, and we doubt not will, present a very distinct and definite idea. There may be some little discrepancies in the outline, perhaps, according as the elements of individual character may more or less preponderate; but the leading element will most assuredly be a regeneration from sin to grace. To such, we venture to assert, the new birth of William Ellery Channing will appear passing strange, and lest any doubt may hang over our mere assertion, we shall give the account in the words of the author of the present memoir, who is no less a personage than his own nephew:

"And this leads to what was his most vital experience in college. The more his character and mind matured, the more earnestly did he devote himself to aspirations after moral greatness. He read with delight the Stoics, and was profoundly moved by the stern purity which they inculcated. But the two authors who most served to guide his thoughts at this period, were Hutcheson and Ferguson. It was while reading one day, in the former, some of the various passages in which he asserts man's capacity for disinterested affection, and considers virtue as the sacrifice of private interest, and the bearing of private evils for the public good, or as self-devotion to absolute, universal good, that there suddenly burst upon his mind that view of the dignity of human nature, which was ever after to uphold and cherish' him, and thenceforth to be 'the fountain light of all his day, the master light of all his seeing.' He was, at the time, walking as he read, beneath a clump of willows yet standing in the meadow, a little to the north of Judge Dana's. This was his favourite retreat for study, being then quite undisturbed and private, and offering a most serene and cheerful

prospect across green meadows and the glistening river to the Brookline hills. The place and the hour were always sacred in his memory, and he frequently referred to them with grateful awe. It seemed to him, that he there passed through a new spiritual birth, and entered upon the day of eternal peace and joy. The glory of the divine disinterestedness, the privilege of existing in a universe of progressive order and beauty, the possibilities of spiritual destiny, the sublimity of devotedness to the will of infinite love, penetrated his soul; and he was so borne away in rapturous visions, that, to quote his own words, as spoken to a friend in later years, 'I longed to die, and felt as if heaven alone could give room for the exercise of such emotions; but when I found I must live, I cast about to do something worthy of these great thoughts; and my enthusiasm at that age, being then but fifteen, turning strongly to the female sex, I considered that they were the powers which ruled the world, and that, if they would bestow their favour on the right cause only, and never be diverted by caprice, all would be fitly arranged, and triumph was sure. Animated with this view, which unfolded itself with great rapidity and in many bearings, I sat down and wrote to this lady,' laying his hand upon his wife's arm, who was listening by his side; 'but I never got courage to send the letter, and have it yet.' This holy hour was but the first windflower of the spring, however, the opening of a long series of experiences by which he was to be led up to perfect consecration. It is a significant fact, that in this time of exultation, when the young moral knight-errant took his vow of fidelity, and was girt with the sword of love, his heart should have instinctively sought the concert in action of woman. This faith in the power of disinterested virtue, so early felt, grew always stronger; and if disappointment in the characters and deeds of men made him ever falter for a moment in his generous aims, he found his hope and heroism renewed by woman's purity and earnestness." - Vol. i. p. 62.

Channing was finished at Harvard University in his nineteenth year. His mother, then a widow, had a large family to support, and with a kind and considerate forethought, which is deserving of all praise, he resolved on providing for his subsistence by his own intellectual exertions while preparing for the ministry, which, previously to his leaving college, he had chosen as his future state. He got a situation as tutor in the family of a Mr. Randolph, at Richmond, Virginia, and repaired thither in the October of 1798. The following extract gives a graphic description of his appearance in the capacity of school

master:

"His energies were mainly turned to the duties of his school, and to private studies. He had under his charge twelve boys, to whose care most of the hours of the day were devoted. In after years he thought himself at this time too strict a disciplinarian. But he may have found a display of decision more necessary from his youth and smallness of size, of which an amusing illustration is given in the following anecdote related by himself: An old coloured woman came into the school to complain of some of the boys who had damaged her garden, broken her fence, and torn up her flowers, making loud complaint, and wanting to see the master. When he presented himself, she surveyed him for a moment, and said, You de massa? You little ting, you can't lick 'em; dey put you out de window.' He assured her, however that the boys should be corrected, and that she should be satisfied for her loss, remark. ing, Poor mamma, she knew of no way of discipline but the lash.'

"Absorbed in the duty of teaching during the day, and living much apart from the family, Mr. Channing was prompted by his wish of quick advancement to pass most of the night in study. He usually remained at his desk till two or three o'clock in the morning, and often saw the day break before retiring to rest. He had also gained from the Stoics, and from his own pure standard of virtue, ascetic desires of curbing the animal nature, and of hardening himself for difficult duties. For the end of overcoming effeminacy, he accustomed himself to sleep on the bare floor, and would spring up at any hour of waking to walk about in the cold. With the same view he made experiments in diet, and was rigidly abstemious, while he neglected exercise from too close application. The result of these night studies, and of his general ignorance of the natural laws, was, that an originally fine constitution was broken, and seeds of disease were planted in his system, which years of scrupulous regard to health could never root out.

"To these sources of illness was added another, which, as it illustrates his characteristic disinterestedness, may deserve a passing notice. When he left home, his provident mother had given him a bill of credit on a house in Richmond, with the confident expectation that he would use it to re-furnish his wardrobe. Money, however, he could not bring himself to take from his mother's large family, and never drew upon his friends. Depression of spirits, and absorption of mind, made him careless also of external appearances, and he preferred to expend his salary in purchasing books. The consequence was, that his clothing became much worn, and he exposed himself the whole winter without an overcoat, except when sometimes he borrowed one to attend church. These necessities came home to him, when upon Christmasday he found himself too meanly clad to join the gay party assembled at Mr. Randolph's." Vol. i. p. 97.

But it is with Channing in his professional capacity that