this subject, who explains this point to our entire satisfaction.

"When a man reflects on any particular doctrine, he may be impressed with a thorough conviction of the improbability, or even impossibility of its being false; and so he may feel with regard to all his other opinions, when he makes them objects of separate contemplations. And yet, when he views them in the aggregate, when he reflects that not a single being on the earth holds collectively the same, when he looks at the past history and present state of mankind, and observes the various creeds of different ages and nations, the peculiar modes of thinking of sects, and bodies, and individuals, the notions once firmly held which have been exploded, the prejudices once universally prevalent which have been removed, and the endless controversies which have distracted those, who have made it the business of their lives to arrive at the truth; and when he further dwells on the consideration, that many of these his fellow-creatures have had a conviction of the justness of their respective sentiments equal to his own, he cannot help the obvious inference, that in his own opinions it is next to impossible that there is not an admixture of error; that there is an infinitely greater probability of his being wrong in some, than right in all."*

The assumption of infallibility, however, is of far less importance, than the second more serious objection which we would make to this doctrine, that it renders all inquiry useless. What one point is, more than any other, essential to sound examination? Is it not strict impartiality? Yet here the inquirer is told at his first setting out, that he cannot be held guiltless except he arrive at certain prescribed conclusions. All his prejudices will then be in favor of one side; his views will be distorted; and unless some gross error should open his eyes, he must inevitably reach the desired end. What, then, has inquiry profited him? It were better for him, had he trusted implicitly to others' statements; for in that case he would at least have escaped the erroneous notion, that his opinions have been founded on thorough inquiry. The advocates of the doctrine in question must therefore hold one of two things, either that inquiry is in fact useless, or that prejudices of a particu

Essay on the Formation and Publication of Opinions, pp. 108, 109.

lar kind may be lawfully entertained in favor of certain tenets. Now of the advantages of inquiry we trust there are few doubters in our age. Unless our boast of intellectual freedom be altogether unmeaning, there is surely reason to suppose, that inquiry is generally thought to have been productive of great good among us. Are we not for ever dwelling with satisfaction on that in which we are better than our fathers, - the enjoyment of the right of public discussion; and do we not every day see this justly valued right bringing forth fruits that are to profit the whole intellectual world, throwing down long-established errors, and laying the foundation for juster systems? Truly, "having eyes, we see not," if we have not discerned these signs of the times. But we are answered from another quarter: and strict impartiality is no longer thought essential to sound examination. Of course the only prejudice, which the followers of this opinion will allow, is that in favor of virtue; and then the opinion will be stated thus: An inquirer may, with perfect propriety, suffer his judgment to be influenced in favor of a doctrine, if its tendency seem to him better than that of any other. If this be correct, it of course precludes the necessity of other arguments. The doctrine must be true, it is said, because it is best fitted to make man happy. There is this to be said in favor of the opinion, · its practical effect would be to make men cease striving with each other in controversy, and endeavour to exhibit the truth of their respective tenets, in the purity of their lives. But, considered as an argument for opinions, it is altogether fallacious; and this will be made manifest by a glance at the moral progress of our race. Here let us not be misunderstood; we make one great exception in favor of Christianity. We should indeed be unworthy the name of Christians, could we look slightingly or indifferently even on the power which our religion has exerted in refining the character of society, introducing a sounder system of morals, in short, making such a wide difference between the Christian and the Heathen world in respect of social improvement alone. Nearly two thousand years have gone by since the first planting of our faith. It has been spread anong every variety of people; its power has been felt among every class and condition of men. In all, we have seen in it the same peculiar marks that distinguish it from other religions, and

have been able distinctly to trace its effects to their real causes. With such a character for its founder, with such length of time and varied situation, the experiment must be convincing to every impartial mind. But of which of the various sects among Christians can this be said? Perhaps however it will be asked, if the principle in question be allowed of one doctrine, why not of all others. Because we do allow it to be theoretically true, but in practice fallacious. If it were possible to ascertain in all cases the full influence of opinions on their professors, there would be no objection to the principle. But that this is far from being possible, will be seen, when we consider the following sources of error. Opinions are often professed without being believed; they are often believed in the abstract, without being followed as a rule of action; and, moreover, the causes of human conduct are so various, that even granting certain tenets to be in some measure efficacious in practice, we cannot say with certainty that they alone have been in operation so that it is next to impossible for us to determine of a single individual, whether his opinions on a particular subject have been the sole reason for his conduct.

It remains for us to remark on the very common opinion, that the principles here stated contradict the authority of Scripture. What, then, is this authority? and what sanction does it give to the common notion? In answer to these questions, it will not be denied that a saving power is attributed to faith in Christ; but it will be our object to ascertain the true meaning of the terms here used. Faith in its simplest and strictest sense seems to imply nothing more than belief. In the New Testament it evidently extends farther, including the effect of belief on the heart and life; and sometimes by that frequent form of metonymy, the cause being put for the effect, faith seems to be put for the moral conduct that it produces. Again, faith probably often refers in the New Testament to that serious, candid, and unbiassed disposition, with which all should undertake religious inquiry. The duties enjoined upon us in the Christian revelation are, as we all know, many of them, opposed to those feelings which the majority of mankind are so much disposed to indulge, to our wordly interests and pleasures. To resist these last, and strive to keep ourselves from prejudice, is sometimes called in the Christian Scriptures, faith; and this

by a very natural change of speech, since it is the true course of preparation for a sound and well established faith. This is a voluntary act, attended oftentimes with much difficulty; and hence its merit, though differing perhaps in degree, is the same in kind with that arising from any other discharge of duty, and equally efficient in preparing us for future happiness. The revelation which God has been pleased to bestow on man, is a gift we can never prize too highly. It has opened to us new views of duty, it has set before us new motives of action, it has given us, in short, light, and hope, and consolation. Belief in Christian truth may, therefore, be well called saving, since it gives us such inestimable advantages for escaping the dominion of sin. But it does not appear to us to be implied in the New Testament, that all who do not use these opportunities are worthy of moral censure. For to some the word has never been preached; and others who have heard it, have not had sufficient means for inquiring into its truth. A third class. indeed deserve our reproof, who will not look into its merits, because they fear lest they should be obliged to give up many of their past gratifications; but let us be careful to ascertain why they are blameworthy; not, strictly speaking, because they have rejected Christianity, but because they have refused to open their mind to a fair examination of its doctrines. In so far, then, as unbelief proceeds from moral obliquity, we agree in pronouncing it criminal, and are countenanced in our opinion by Scriptural authority. In those instances (few indeed, but not altogether wanting) in which it springs from other and unavoidable causes, it may be lamented as unfortunate, but ought not to be accounted worthy of censure.

Our subject is a most extensive one, and we have, therefore, only attempted here to glance at its most prominent divisions. Yet if we shall seem to any to have said too much, we can only give Cicero's excuse: "Si longior fuerit oratio, cum magnitudine utilitatis comparetur: ita fortassis etiam brevior videbitur." *

* De Officiis, 11. 6.

ART. V.-1. Discourses, Reviews, and Miscellanies. By WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. Boston. Carter & Hendee. 1830. 8vo. pp. 603.

2. Discourses. By WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. Boston. Charles Bowen. 1832. 12mo. pp. 280.

It is striking to observe what a change preaching has passed through among us, even since the time of Buckminster; we mean, practical preaching. Then it was a preaching of the obvious truths and principles of morality and piety. And of these, there was never, perhaps, an exhibition in the pulpit, more faultless, more perfect in the balance of its parts, more dignified at once, and more graceful, more thorough, and at the same time more beautiful, than in the discourses of that admirable preacher, that young "man eloquent," whose moulded periods and thrilling tones still sound, in the ears of many, as a strain, and a requiem too, of rich and solemn music. We do not undertake to decide whether Buckminster was a man of the very highest powers of eloquence or of thought; but there is something in his writings we scarcely know what that assemblage and proportion, perhaps it is, of the parts that make up the perfect whole which has always made us rise up from one of his discourses, more in despair about writing sermons, than from any others we have ever read. We do not assert his preeminence over all other distinguished preachers in their particular walk, nor his equality with some of them, in the points of their greatest strength. But, after all, we have felt that, as an effort of mental labor, we had rather attempt the elegant, but frigid style of Blair and Alison, or the pithy sense, and polished and sometimes scarcely grave irony of South, or the swelling and richly laden sentences of Barrow and Jeremy Taylor, or the studiously wrought paragraphs of Massillon, Bossuet, and Bourdaloue, and even the oftentimes commanding majesty of their periods,- that we had rather, we say, attempt any of these, than to bring together, and blend, and harmonize, so many of these traits, as appear in the discourses of Buckminster.

Indeed, if we may venture to express our thought, though it be a bold one, we cannot regard the preachers of the old French or English school, as the models that they are