to religion, without any to molest or make them afraid. But this great blessing has no doubt been perverted by the church, in a degree at least, to foster a spirit of religious apathy, and to induce a comparatively superficial piety. Not being trained up, as our fathers were, in the rough school of adversity, we are wanting, there is reason to believe, in that depth of Christian experience, that stern self-denial, that unquenchable thirst for communion with Christ, by which they were so much distinguished. Our theological writings of the present day exhibit less of holy unction, of that devout and lively sense of divine things, which results from a constant impression of the presence of God, than we find in the works of the divines to whom we have already referred; and in going back to the latter, though we find them with the imperfections of the age to which they belonged, yet we get our hearts refreshed by breathing a holier atmosphere, and we seem to be in communion with spirits who, while they were on earth, were yet always near the gate of heaven. But then it must be acknowledged, that there is much more of activity belonging to the character of this age than of the period to which we have been referring. While Christians are exempted to a great extent from those evils which in other days have palsied the energies of the church, and kept her labouring and struggling in order to sustain herself in existence, the Providence of God has been working mightily in removing the obstacles to the propagation of the Gospel, and in opening a field for the efforts of Christian benevolence as wide as the world. Blessed be God, the church has heard the voice of her Almighty Head, and has surveyed this field in the whole length and breadth of it, and there is a spirit of benevolent action going forth, which is no doubt destined to live, and brighten into more vigorous exercise, until nothing shall remain to be done for the consummation of God's great and holy purpose of giving the heathen to Christ for his inheritance and the uttermost parts of the earth for a possession. Let not the present generation of Christians conclude that they have nothing to learn from those who have gone before them; and especially let them not imagine, in the indulgence of a self-confident spirit, that the great and good men of other days are all cast into the shade by the superiour lights of the present age. What if those men displayed less of Christian activity than is exhibited by many of the friends of Christ now;-yet that no doubt was owing to the circumstances in which they were called to act; and had they lived at this day, with the spirit of deep devotion and ardent love to Christ, which glowed in their bosoms then, they would unquestionably have showed themselves mighty in religious action, and have been foremost in the ranks of those who are enlisted to send the gospel to the ends of the earth. Let the church then, while she retains all her activity, and becomes more and more active, cultivate a deeper spirituality, a more entire dependence on the influences of divine grace, a more constant and intimate intercourse with her Redeemer and her Head. Let the Christian ministry especially endeavour to become more richly imbued with that spirit of enlightened and fervent piety, which glowed in the bosoms, and breathed in the lives, of the Baxters, the Flavels, the Henrys, of other days. And let both ministers and private Christians remember, that there never was a period in which this spirit was more imperatively demanded, than it is at the present; for nothing else will be a pledge even for the continued activity of the church; nothing else will keep her humble under the success which has already attended her efforts; nothing else will secure to her activity the blessing of God. Let every Christian then consider it his duty to do all that he can to improve the character of this age by imparting to it a greater degree of spirituality; and then it will be, in a still greater degree than it has yet been, an age of benevolence, an age of glory. ART. VIII.-REVIEW OF CHANNING'S WORKS. By Rev. LEONARD WITHINGTON, Pastor of the Church in Newbury, Mass. Discourses, Reviews, and Miscellanies, by William Ellery Channing, Boston, published by Carter & Hendee, 1830. THERE are certain writers who might be appropriately designated as the nightingales of the moral grove. They charm the ear, they delight the fancy, without directing the reasoning powers. Their loveliest strains leave no definite impression behind. Among these writers we must place the distinguished author, whose works we have undertaken to review. For musical diction, for the poetry of prose, he stands unrivalled. But it is not so easy for our dullness always to apprehend precisely what he means. The music of his lips, is often to us like that of the songsters in Thomson's Spring, "Veiled in a shower Of shadowing roses." There is, we suspect, sprung up in the theological and literary world, a very bad style of writing, of which the very beauties increase its pernicious tendency, and its merits, in their special combination, make it so much the worse. For as the philosophers tell us, that a theory essentially false, becomes more dangerous by the truths on the surface, which give it popularity and power; so we conceive that there are some styles of writing, whose alloy becomes just so much worse, for the precious metal with which they are combined. A counterfeit guinea will not pass without some gold in it; and no style of writing has ever had a temporary popularity, without some beauty. The present fashionable combination we consider as peculiarly unhappy; and we are sorry to find, that Dr. Channing has given it so much of his countenance and support. We are not however bigots-whatever we may be in theology--in the creed of taste; and we freely confess, that this bad mode of writing is far from being confined to Unitarians. We find something of it in John Foster, in Chalmers, in Coleridge; it runs absolutely mad in the miraculous Irving. It is exercising, in many places, a disastrous influence on the pulpit, and on the whole circle of our literature; and it is of the utmost importance that it should be dissected and exposed. As Dr. Channing is one of the last and most illustrious examples of the style here spoken of, we propose to exhibit some of its characteristics in connexion with his works, remembering while we do so, that every unjust blow aimed at an author, always rebounds on the critic. The style to which we allude, consists in taking some plain, homely thought, as old as the creation, and dressing it up in such buckram language, that the brain from which it first sprung, (and that perhaps was Adam's,) would hardly recognise its own offspring. Many writers of this age, as is well known, have an itch for originality;-very few, however, have a talent for it. Wherever there is real originality, it flows out in the simplest language; so that the reader is at first deceived, and is hardly aware of the ponderous thoughts VOL. I. 38 which come in such a familiar dress. We might cite Lord Bacon's little volume of Essays, as a striking illustration of this remark. Some of the most acute and profound remarks on human nature, are there expressed in words which might be understood in the nursery. The probability is, he paid very little attention to his diction; conscious of his own strength, his pen moved with ease, and his last thoughts came forth in the first expressions. But every writer of course is not a Bacon, and it is becoming harder every day to be original. Yet every author wishes, if not to present new thoughts, at least to show them in a new light. Here, then, is a great temptation to depart from the beaten path of simplicity and truth. For the justness of these remarks we have Dr. Channing's precept, whatever becomes of his example. "Men have learned [we must disagree with him as to the fact, though we join in the praise,] more to write as they speak, and are ashamed to dress up familiar thoughts as if they were just arrived from a far country, and could not appear in public without a foreign and studied attire. They have learned that common words are common, precisely because most fitted to express real feeling and strong conception, and that the circuitous, measured phraseology, which was called elegance, was but the parade of weakness. They have learned that words are the signs of thought, and worthless counterfeits without it, and that a style is good, when, instead of being anxiously cast into a mould, it seems a free and natural expression of thought, and gives us with power the workings of the author's mind."* Though we are afraid that the critic here bears hard on the author, we must pronounce this the best piece of criticism in the whole volume. The style which we are condemning has another quality, of which Dr. Channing is an illustrious instance. It takes a definite idea, and shoves it back amidst the widest generalities; so that the mind floats over a splendid surface where all is vast, and nothing is fixed. We have often been told of the intellect and passions of man, the power by which he reasons, and the power by which he feels; and these two classifications are tolerably distinct. But a new class of reasoners talk of man's spiritual nature, which may include ten thousand times ten thousand operations. To be sure the spiritual nature of man means something in the language of theology; and we hope it means something in the new metaphysics; but the world will never know what the meaning is, until a new lexicon for these esoteric doctrines is published. * See "the Moral Argument against Calvinism." p. 218. It is wrong to bring charges without proofs; and innumerable of these proofs are scattered over the pages of our author. We have all heard that it is the duty of sinners to repent and be reconciled to God. These words present a plain, old, definite duty, such as has been preached to vulgar sinners, ever since the days of the Apostles. But this language is too coarse for the refined systems of the present day. See how the thought sparkles in the vocabulary of sentimentalism, as arranged by one of its most brilliant advocates. "The true friend and Saviour is not he who acts for us abroad, but who acts within, who sets the soul free, touches the springs of thought and affection, binds us to God, and by assimilating us to the Creator, brings us into harmony with the creation."* Writers generally aim, in rounding off a climax, to put the most definite idea last. We have reason to think, therefore, that to come into harmony with the creation is the great duty of man. These are certainly noble words. But there is not a congregation of sinners, from the shores of lake Erie to the gulf of Mexico, who would not be more edified by saying to them bluntly, Be ye reconciled to God. That good men should labour to shed around them their own principles, and conduct mankind to the truth, is a sentiment which we have often heard; it is so important, however, that it will bear to be repeated. But this is not enough for our author: "In despotic countries, those men whom God has inspired with lofty sentiments, and a thirst for freedom, (and such are spread through all Europe,) must, in their individual capacity, communicate themselves to individual minds."t Here every word almost is mounted to the dark sublime. The men are not only wise, but inspired; inspired with lofty sentiments, which is much too general; their love of liberty amounts to a thirst; and lastly they must communicate, not their sentiments, but themselves. The naked thought we suppose is, that patriots must endeavour to inform their countrymen;-a very good idea; but what now has become of its glorious originality? It is of the utmost importance, that the pretensions of such a style should be analyzed and exposed. It exercises a disastrous influence over many of our young men. It is * Channing's Discourses, page 439. |