of paste in a large frame. Of these bits of earthenware there is an assortment in more than 10,000 colours; and they are ground so as to make them fit exactly the space to which they are meant to correspond in the original. When the whole surface is thus inlaid, it is polished, and becomes so hard and durable, that nothing can injure it. The labour which this requires is greater than can be imagined necessary. The custode told me, that it took two men five years to copy a large picture, including several full-length figures. I afterwards ascended to the very top of St. Peter's, even into the ball, which is effected with very little difficulty, as the stairs are well contrived, and there is enough to see by the way to induce the visitor to make several pauses. There is no part of this stately pile from which its immense size is better perceived than it is from different points of the ascent to the top. It is quite fearful to look down from the gallery, which runs round the interior of the dome, just where it springs from the roof; still more so, from the second, where the Cupola begins; and again from the Lantern at the top. Yet, as I regarded it, I could scarcely believe that the space below was that in which I had seen so great a crowd of people on Easter Sunday, and it was almost as much beyond belief that the pen in the hand of St. Luke is seven feet long: it appeared to be about 18 inches. On descending I took a farewell walk through the body of the church, and stood for a few moments under the dome, quitting it with a mournful feeling, that this was probably the last time in my life that I should behold all that amazing grandeur. (To be continued.) MAN THE IMAGE OF GOD.* THE grand beauty, the most striking characteristic, of Dr. Channing's preaching, is its perpetual tendency to enhance our self-respect. It does this, not by addressing itself to the vanity of our nature-for its lessons are ever those of the most affecting humiliation--but by never allowing us to forget for an instant our derivation and ultimate aim; by making us independent of books, and preachers, and men; by reminding us that, if we are not the noble and happy creatures we ought to be, ourselves, and not the Deity, our own slowness, and not his unwillingness, are to be blamed. It is, of all styles of preaching, that which is calculated to bring human beings into possession of the liberty wherewith Christ has made them free. If it does not make farther instruction unnecessary, we cannot but think that its tendency is to make the people their own teachers, and this is the best effect preaching can have. When Dr. Channing enters upon mere textual divinity, we feel he is not quite so pleasant a guide. Bold and comprehensive in all his views, perceiving at a glance all the grandest points which belong to his subject, and presenting them to the reader with a vividness which scarcely any hand beside can impart, we think he is rather apt to underestimate accuracy. Yet for one man who is scrupulously correct in * A Discourse delivered at the Ordination of the Rev. Frederick A. Farley, as Pastor of the Westminster Congregational Society in Providence, Rhode Island, September 10, 1828. By William Ellery Channing, D. D. (From the American Edition received from the Author.) London: E. Rainford. VOL. III. H minute particulars, how few are there so nobly, so generally true to nature and revelation, as Dr. Channing! How few who, deeply conversant with their own spirits, can deal freely, effectually, and winningly, with the spirits of others! How few who, looking at the character of Christ, take their stand for the proof at once of Divine Goodness and the destiny of man, upon that bright example! With Dr. Channing, preaching is not confined to examination of verbal evidence, of didactic precepts, or authoritative doctrines, or established principles: none of these would he, we hope, be inclined to slight; yet still his preaching is of a more vital character than these: it is an attempt to bring the whole spirit of Christianity to bear upon human nature, to shew what there is in man which corresponds to the revelation given him by the Deity, and thence to provoke into action some of those energies which lie dormant under a less powerful ministry. The Sermon before us is the last, and perhaps the greatest, effort of Dr. Channing's pen. On reviewing it, it seems almost impossible to make extracts. Yet there are some passages which must be given. "Ephes. v. 1: 'Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children.' "To promote true religion is the purpose of the Christian ministry. For this it was ordained. On the present occasion, therefore, when a new teacher is to be given to the church, a discourse on the character of true religion will not be inappropriate. I do not mean, that I shall attempt, in the limits to which I am now confined, to set before you all its properties, signs, and operations; for in so doing I should burden your memories with divisions and vague generalities, as uninteresting as they would be unprofitable. My purpose is, to select one view of the subject, which seems to me of primary dignity and importance; and I select this, because it is greatly neglected, and because I attribute to this neglect much of the inefficacy, and many of the corruptions, of religion. "The text calls us to follow or imitate God, to seek accordance with or likeness to him; and to do this, not fearfully and faintly, but with the spirit and hope of beloved children. The doctrine which I propose to illustrate, is derived immediately from these words, and is incorporated with the whole New Testament. I affirm, and would maintain, that true religion consists in proposing as our great end, a growing likeness to the Supreme Being. Its noblest influence consists in making us more and more partakers of the Divinity. For this it is to be preached. Religious instruction should aim chiefly to turn men's aspirations and efforts to that perfection of the soul which constitutes it a bright image of God. Such is the topic now to be discussed: and I implore Him, whose glory I seek, to aid me in unfolding and enforcing it with simplicity and clearness, with a calm and pure zeal, and with unfeigned charity. "I begin with observing, what all indeed will understand, that the likeness to God, of which I propose to speak, belongs to man's higher or spiritual nature. It has its foundation in the original and essential capacities of the mind. In proportion as these are unfolded by right and vigorous exertion, it is extended and brightened. In proportion as these lie dormant, it is obscured. In proportion as they are perverted and overpowered by the appetites and passions, it is blotted out. In truth, moral evil, if unresisted and habitual, may so blight and lay waste these capacities, that the image of God in man may seem to be wholly destroyed. "The importance of this assimilation to our Creator, is a topic which needs no laboured discussion. All men, of whatever name, or sect, or opinion, will meet me on this ground. All, I presume, will allow, that no good in the compass of the universe, or within the gift of Omnipotence, can be compared to a resemblance of God, or to a participation of his attributes. I fear no contradiction here. Likeness to God is the supreme gift. He can communicate nothing so precious, glorious, blessed as himself. To hold intellectual and moral affinity with the Supreme Being, to partake his spirit, to be his children by derivations of kindred excellence, to bear a growing conformity to the perfection which we adore, this is a felicity which obscures and annihilates all other good. "It is only in proportion to this likeness that we can enjoy either God or the universe. That God can be known and enjoyed only through sympathy or kindred attributes, is a doctrine which even Gentile philosophy discerned. That the pure in heart can alone see and commune with the pure Divinity, was the sublime instruction of ancient sages as well as of inspired prophets. It is indeed the lesson of daily experience. To understand a great and good being, we must have the seeds of the same excellence. How quickly, by what an instinet, do accordant minds recognize one another! No attraction is so powerful as that which subsists between the truly wise, and good; whilst the brightest excellence is lost on those who have nothing congenial in their own breasts. God becomes a real being to us, in proportion as his own nature is unfolded within us. To a man who is growing in the likeness of God, faith begins even here to change into vision. He carries within himself a proof of a Deity, which can only be understood by experience. He more than believes, he feels the Divine presence; and gradually rises to an intercourse with his Maker, to which it is not irreverent to apply the name of friendship and intimacy. The Apostle John intended to express this truth, when he tells us that he, in whom a principle of divine charity or benevolence has become a habit and life, 'dwells in God, and God in him.' "It is plain, too, that likeness to God is the true and only preparation for the enjoyment of the universe. In proportion as we approach and resemble the mind of God, we are brought into harmony with the creation; for, in that proportion, we possess the principles from which the universe sprung; we carry within ourselves the perfections of which its beauty, magnificence, order, benevolent adaptations, and boundless purposes, are the results and manifestations. God unfolds himself in his works to a kindred mind. It is possible, that the brevity of these hints may expose to the charge of mysticism, what seems to me the calmest and clearest truth. I think, however, that every reflecting man will feel, that likeness to God must be a principle of sympathy or accordance with his creation; for the creation is a birth and shining forth of the Divine Mind, a work through which his spirit breathes. In proportion as we receive this spirit, we possess within ourselves the expla nation of what we see. We discern more and more of God in every thing, from the frail flower to the everlasting stars. Even in evil, that dark cloud which hangs over the creation, we discern rays of light and hope, and gradually come to see in suffering and temptation proofs and instruments of the sublimest purposes of Wisdom and Love." - Pp. 3-7. This is most beautiful.-Dr. C. proceeds farther to argue that our possession of a nature allied at least to the Divinity may be proved from the very mode in which we obtain our ideas of God. "Whence," says he, "come the conceptions which we include under that angust name? Whence do we derive our knowledge of the attributes and perfections which constitute the Supreme Being? I answer, we derive them from our own souls. The divine attributes are first developed in ourselves, and thence transferred to the Creator. The idea of God, sublime and awful as it is, is the idea of our own spiritual nature, purified and enlarged to infinity. In ourselves are the elements of the Divinity. God then does not sustain a a figurative figurative resemblance to man. It is the resemblance of a parent to a child, the likeness of a kindred nature. "The same is true of God's goodness. How do we understand this, but by the principle of love implanted in the human heart? Whence is it, that this divine attribute is so faintly comprehended, but from the feeble develop 1 ment of it in the multitude of men? Who can understand the strength, purity, fulness, and extent of divine philanthropy, but he in whom selfishness has been swallowed up in love?"-Pp. 10, 11. In investigating the manner in which our ideas of the Deity are acquired, we think there might have been more distinct reference to that transcendent moral manifestation of himself which he has given us in the character of Christ. To see "the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" is a privilege dear to the heart of a Christian, and it is one which supplies a real want of the soul; it is at once a means of acquiring the best knowledge of the Deity, and of ourselves. The very exhibition of such a character, and the universal feeling of admiration and sympathy for it, prove that God presupposes a moral nature in us, and wishes to improve it; they prove also his desire that we should enter into his own character; and it is to the neglect of those plain passages of Scripture which represent the Son as the express moral image of the Father, that we must trace many of the most erroneous among prevailing notions. It does, indeed, seem extraordinary, how they who speak of the Father and the Son as different, in some respects uncongenial, characters, can understand those passages which speak of their entire and perfect unity. Here is a being, mild, loving, gentle, breathing pardon and peace, willing to save and labouring to save us from the intolerable yoke of sin, with all the lineaments of the Eternal Mind stamped upon him. Again and again he assures us, "I and my Father are one." Yet men are more willing to learn from an obscure text, from a disputed passage. They are ever saying, "Shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us," forgetful of the reply long ago made-"Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father, and how sayest thou then, 'Shew us the Father?" " Neither the Sceptic nor the Christian is, perhaps, aware of the degree in which his ideas of the Deity are really derived from the knowledge of Christ. In the midst of our wishes that they were allowed to take more and more of form from this bright image of the Divinity, in mercy vouchsafed to man, we rejoice in the thought that it has had a most real and salutary influence on human nature. However great men's misapprehension of the Deity himself, we can hardly say that the character of Christ has ever been misunderstood: the error has been in considering it apart from that of the Father, as if God and Christ were not truly one in all that we can conceive of mercy, goodness, and truth. It is really not always true that the "love of God is faintly apprehended by a human soul, because the feeling of love itself has been but feebly developed;" for some of the gentlest, the kindest, and most benignant of human beings have most imperfectly comprehended the love of God; nay, have held doctrines which must at times have seemed almost incompatible with the feeling of his goodness. In cases like this, it is generally useless to urge the incongruity between natural feeling and what is considered as revealed testimony. Revelation then, which expressly exhibits the true character of the Deity in shewing us that of Jesus Christ, is our only refuge; and when from this survey we return to the sanctuary of our own bosoms and find an echo to every holy and pure lesson it has taught, we have a double conviction of the perfection of the object of worship, and of our own ability to comprehend it. To conclude with one extract more: "The multitude, you say, want capacity to receive the great truths relating to their spiritual nature. But what, let me ask you, is the Christian religion? A spiritual system, intended to turn men's minds upon themselves; to frame them to watchfulness over thought, imagination, and passion; to establish them in an intimacy with their own souls. What are all the Christian virtues which men are exhorted to love and seek? I answer, pure and high motions or determinations of the mind. That refinement of thought which, I am told, transcends the common intellect, belongs to the very essence of Christianity. In confirmation of these views, the human mind seems to me to be turning itself more and more inward, and to be growing more alive to its own worth, and its capacities of progress. The spirit of education shews this, and so does the spirit of freedom. There is a spreading conviction that man was made for a higher purpose than to be a beast of burden, or a creature of sense. The Divinity is stirring within the human breast, and demanding a culture and a liberty worthy of the child of God. Let religious teaching correspond to this advancement of the mind. Let it rise above the technical, obscure, and frigid theology which has come down to us from times of ignorance, superstition, and slavery. Let it penetrate the human soul, and reveal it to itself. No preaching, I believe, is so intelligible as that which is true to human nature, and helps men to read their own spirits."-Pp. 29, 30. This is, indeed, truth. Let preachers acquaint themselves with revelation, well and deeply; but let them also study the great book of human nature. Let them enter into more familiar acquaintance with the good of all parties, and into closer alliance with our better and best feelings. Let it be their delightful part to appeal to these; to found their teaching and preaching upon them to build less on the hope of doing good by appeals merely to selfish hopes or fears, and more upon the spontaneous approbation of excellence, of which no mind is wholly destitute. Let the contemplation of the Saviour's grand aim, reconciliation and sanctification, be ever before them. Let them cultivate fervid and glowing devotion, assured that many hearts ask for it and are cheered by its presence. In fine, let them wander more at large over the wide field of human emotions, having fellowship with every thing lofty, animating, and benignant, and they cannot fail to be useful preachers. ! LINES. [From "A New-Year's Eve, and other Poems," by Bernard Barton.] I saw a ruin, mossed and grey, A desolate and time-worn pile: With ivy-wreaths and wall-flowers gay, In morning's cloudless sunbeams smile. I saw a dark and gloomy cloud: It drifted towards the glowing west; I could but think to age were given |