an immense bas-relief, representing men and animals, covering a grey stone of the height of two men, was dug up, a few years since, from a spot a little above the surface of the ground.

In respect to the entire ruins, Mr. Rich makes the following general remarks: "One thing is sufficiently obvious to the most careless observer, which is the equality of the age of all these vestiges. Whether they belonged to Nineveh or to some other city is another question, and one not so easily determined, but that they are all of the same age or character does not admit of a doubt. The traces of building within the area are, with the exception of Nebbi Yunus and Koyunjuk, extremely slight; and I am now confirmed in the opinion I formed in viewing the ruins many years ago, that the enclosure formed only a part of a great city, probably either the citadel or royal precincts, or perhaps both, as the practice of fortifying the residence of the sovereign is of very ancient origin. In the East to this day the dwelling of the prince, and indeed of many governors, consists of a number of buildings enclosed in quite a separate quarter; and from what we are told of the Babylonian palaces, and see of that of the Seffiviyahs and of the sultan of Constantinople, this extent would not be too much to assign for the residence of the Assyrian kings."

Macdonald Kinneir conceived that the ruins opposite Mosul were those of Ninus, a city which succeeded to Nineveh, and not those of Nineveh itself. It is evident, however, that he spoke only of the central mounds; as he states that the circumference of all the remains he saw did not exceed four miles, and very inexplicably observes, that he saw neither stones nor rubbish of any kind, though the mounds are formed altogether of the last.

Mr. Buckingham spent a short time in the examination of these ruins in 1817. "There are," he remarks, " appearances of mounds and ruins extending for several miles to the southward, and still more distinctly seen to the north of this, though both are less marked than the mounds of the centre. The space between these is a level plain, over every part of the face of which, broken pottery, and the other usual debris of ruined cities, are seen scattered about." "From the height on which we stood, extending our view to a considerable distance in every direction, we could not certainly perceive any marked delineation of one great outline; but mounds and smaller heaps of ruins were scattered widely over the plain sufficient to prove

that the site of the original city occupied a vast extent, notwithstanding that some of the latest visitors to this place have thought that the remains were confined to the few mounds of the centre only." "As we passed by the mound called Nebbi Yunus, I examined with more attention, an opening recently made on its northern side, and here I saw, most distinctly, a section of masonry. The bricks were apparently sun-dried, and in dimensions two spans long, and one span deep; they were of a very coarse kind, and were united by layers of common mortar."

We have thus given the most important information, which we have been able to procure, in relation to this celebrated city. No very late traveller, within our knowledge, has visited the ruins which have been described. The question whether these ruins will prove to be the actual remains of the Nineveh of the Hebrew prophets, which Mr. Rich and others, have conjectured with so much probability, may hereafter be put at rest by the researches of still more fortunate travellers.

ARTICLE VII.

PRACTICAL CHRISTIANITY.

By the Rev. Thomas H. Skinner, D. D., New York.

THAT portion of mankind who acquire distinction and influence, ordinarily choose to themselves some profession or course of life, in which they think they can exert themselves to the best advantage. Some prefer the life of a soldier; some devote themselves to politics; some to science and literature, some to the arts, some to trade, and some to the sacred interests of religion. Of those who take the last as their appropriate calling, a part labor in the field of intellectual theology; a part, choose a life of prayer and contemplation; and a part, employ themselves in works of active goodness.

Had men, previously to our Lord's appearance in the flesh, been called on to consider, how he would probably occupy

himself while an inhabitant of our world, different anticipations, doubtless, would have been conceived on that subject. While he had not as yet lived among men, there was room for a diversity of opinion as to what probably would be the manner of his life. Some we know were prepared by their tastes and their hopes to conclude at once that he would be a great military commander, and would fill the world with the fame of his battles and his victories. Some doubtless would have expected that he would take chief rank among economists and statesmen. Some would have thought all pursuits unworthy of him, but those of philosophy and learning. And some, enamored themselves of sacred science, would have deemed it reproachful to a person of such high and intelligent sanctity, to suppose that his pursuit would be any other than that of a retired and laborious student and commentator of the inspired writings.

His life on the earth is now past. The Word has been made flesh, and has dwelt with men; and how he spent his days, after his entrance into public life, we are particularly informed. A summary of the account which has been given us, is contained in the simple declaration of the sacred historian,* that he went about doing good. He found himself in an afflicted and needy world, and he devoted himself to works of mercy. Mankind about him were ignorant, and he taught them; they were depraved, and he reclaimed them; they were in sorrow, and he comforted them; they were diseased, and he healed them; they were oppressed, and he delivered them. He performed these offices of benevolence, not only indirectly, by the agency of others, but by his own personal and indefatigable labors. He did not fix himself in one place, and require those who needed his aid to find him out, and come to him, and wait his convenience; but led an itinerant and migratory life, seeking out spheres and occasions of beneficent action, by exploratory and pedestrian journeys. He passed in this manner, not a portion only, but the whole of his public life. Nothing could divert him from this course; not ungrateful neglect from the objects of his kindness; not his deep personal necessities; not the greatest providential discouragements; not unrelenting persecution and constant peril of life. He met unkindness, opposition and danger in every form; he met them unmoved; and having lived for man, he closed his peculiar course by ascend

Acts 10: 38.

ing the cross as his substitute, and dying to redeem him from the guilt and the curse of sin.

In this manner did Christ pass his days on earth; who would previously have concluded that such would have been his way of life? Yet here let us ask two questions; First, was it not a manner of life which became him? On this point there can now be but one opinion. The whole world must give the question an affirmative answer. Whatever might have been thought before, now that we know what our Saviour's life was, it appears so manifestly becoming the purity and elevation of his character, in all respects, that we would never think of bringing any other mode of life into comparison with it, as proper to be pursued by him. The life then of Christ, was such as became him. The other question is, Was it such, as, in their measure, and making due allowance for difference of relations and circumstances, would become his disciples? Although we are well aware, that this question is already answered also, in the affirmative, by the conscience of the reader, we do not deem it needless to set forth the evidences on which an intelligent answer to it must rest. This, therefore, we purpose to do, as far as we can within the limits of the present article.

Let us, however, to prevent mistake, premise one explanatory remark. Possibly the reader has already raised in his own mind, inquiries like the following: How can I pattern after the life of Christ? I have not his resources, and his powers. He had not any domestic cares and responsibilities. It is impossible I should be all the time directly occupied, in what are called works of beneficence. I shall, moreover, deny the faith, and be worse than an infidel, if I do not make provision for myself and my household. These things are indeed so; but let them not be perverted. Be it, that you cannot do as much good, or spend as much time in works of direct beneficence, as did your Lord and Master; you can put yourself absolutely under the law of beneficence; and make doing good the grand object of your life; and while faithful in accomplishing that object, to the duties of your calling, and the claims of domestic relatives, you may give the entire remainder of time and substance, to deeds of active goodness; and thus may you have the whole of life stamped with beneficence. The extent to which men can employ themselves in direct offices of beneficence, varies with dif ferent persons. Some must give almost their whole time to providing for their families or themselves. Some can spare VOL. IX. No. 25. 21

several hours of every day; and some have their whole life at their disposal, and can devote themselves absolutely to works of mercy. All, however, can live under the control of the beneficent principle; all can be actuated by that principle, and not merely by blind instinct or cold responsibility, even in domestic duties and labors; all, in this way, can make the whole of life one scene of beneficent action. The demand is, that every Christian be, to the extent of his ability, a practical philanthropist; be such in his heart, such in his closet, such in his family, such in his neighborhood, such in the world; in short, that he make doing good to his fellow creatures, however related to them, the distinct object and purpose of his existence on earth. This is the demand; what Christian, with the consent of his own conscience, can resist it? Let us now prosecute the subject.

1. It is one of the known ends of Christ's living and acting in the presence of his disciples, to show them by his example how they ought to live, and how they must live, if they would make good their claim to be regarded as his sincere followers. He left them an example, that they should follow his steps. Peculiar as his way of living was, he went before them in that way as their exemplar and leader. They saw in his singular life of beneficence, what commanded their wonder, their confidence, their worship; but they also saw THE PATTERN to which their own lives should be conformed; a pattern shown them expressly for their imitation. We would say this with emphasis, because it seems to have almost escaped consideration. It has been commonly thought that Christ should be imitated by his disciples, in his meekness, patience, gentleness and other passive virtues, but has it been the general opinion that they should also resemble him in that course of self-denying beneficence, the fulfilment of which furnished the occasions of his exercising these qualities? If Christians have been resigned under the bereavements and trials which are common to man, they have been commended as being like their Lord. We do not deny the justness of the commendation, as far as there is ground for it; but simply ask whether the resemblance should hold in nothing more than the manner of meeting common providential discipline? Should it be limited to, or chiefly consist in the passive virtues? Christ was contented, meek, unresisting, prayerful; and so should be his disciples: But Christ also lived not for himself, but bare the sorrows and afflictions of man, and