from the world with the flap of its long robe. We come at truth only by faithful thought, reflection, and contemplation, when the long flashes of light come in upon the soul. But truth and God are always on one side. Ignorance and a blind and barren faith favour only lies and their great patriarch.

The Pharisee of the pulpit talks much of the divine authority of the Church and the Minister, as if the one was anything more than a body of men and women met for moral and religious improvement, and the other anything but a single man they had asked to teach them, and be an example to the flock, and not "Lord of God's heritage." Had this Pharisee been born in Turkey, he would have been as zealous for the Mahometan Church as he now is for the Christian. It is only the accident of birth that has given him the Bible instead of the Koran, the Shaster, the Vedam, or the Shu-King. This person has no real faith in man, or he would not fear when he essayed to walk, nor would fancy that while every other science went forward, Theology, the Queen of Science, should be bound hand and foot, and shut up in darkness without sun or star; no faith in Christ, or he would not fear that search and speech should put out the light of life; no faith in God, or he would know that His truth, like virgin gold, comes brighter out of the fire of thought, which burns up only the dross. Yet this Pharisee speaks of God, as if he had known the Infinite from His boyhood; had looked over His shoulder when He laid the foundations of the earth; had entered into all His counsels, and known to the tithing of a hair, how much was given to Moses, how much to Confucius, and how much to Christ, and had seen it written in the book of fate, that Christianity, as it is now understood, was the loftiest religion man could ever know, and all the treasure of the Most High was spent and gone, so that we had nothing more to hope for. Yet the loftiest spirits that have ever lived have blessed the things of God; have adored Him in all His works, in the dew-drops and the stars; have felt at times His spirit warm their hearts, and blessed Him who was all in all, but bowed their faces down before His presence, and owned they could not by searching find Him out unto perfection; have worshipped and loved and prayed, but said no more of the nature and

essence of God, for thought has its limits, though presumption it seems has none. The Pharisee speaks of Jesus of Nazareth. How he dwells on his forbearance, his gentleness, but how he forgets that righteous indignation which spoke through him, applied the naked point of God's truth to Pharisees and hypocrites, and sent them back with rousing admonitions. He heeds not the allembracingl ove that dwelt in him, and wept at sin, and worked with bloody sweat for the oppressed and downtrodden. He speaks of Paul and Peter as if they were masters of the soul, and not merely its teachers and friends. Yet should those flaming apostles start up from the ground in their living holiness, and tread our streets, call things by their right names, and apply Christianity to life, as they once did, and now would do were they here, think you our Pharisee would open his house, like Roman Cornelius, or Simon of Tarsus?

There are two divisions of this class of Pharisees: those who do not think,-and they are harmless and perhaps useful in their way, like snakes that have no venom, but catch worms and flies,-and those who do think. The latter think one thing in their study, and preach a very different thing in their pulpit. In the one place they are free as water, ready to turn any way; in the other, conservative as ice. They fear philosophy should disturb the Church as she lies bed-ridden at home, so they would throw the cobwebs of authority and tradition over the wings of truth, not suffering her with strong pinions to fly in the midst of Heaven, and communicate between man and God. They think "you must use a little deceit in the world," and so use not a little. These men speak in public of the inspiration of the Bible, as if it were all inspired with equal infallibility; but what do they think at home? In his study, the Testament is a collection of legendary tales; in the pulpit it is the everlasting Gospel; if any man shall add to it, the seven last plagues shall be added to him; if any one takes from it, his name shall be taken from the Book of Life. If there be a sin in the land, or a score of sins tall as the Anakim, which go to and fro in the earth, and shake the Churches with their tread, let these sins be popular, be loved by the powerful, protected by the affluent; will the Pharisee sound the alarm, lift up the banner,

sharpen the sword, and descend to do battle? There shall not a man of them move his tongue; no, they are dumb dogs, that cannot bark, sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber; yes, they are greedy dogs, that can never have enough." But let there be four or five men in obscure places, not mighty through power, renown, or understanding, or eloquence; let them utter in modesty a thought that is new, which breathes of freedom, or tends directly towards God, and every Pharisee of the pulpit shall cry out from Cape Sable to the Lake of the Woods, till the land ring again. Doubtless it is heroic thus to fight a single new thought, rather than a score of old sins. Doubtless it is a very Christian zeal thus to pursue obscurity to its retreat, and mediocrity to its littleness, and startle humble Piety from her knees, while the Goliath of sin walks with impudent forehead at noon-day in front of their armies, and defies the living God;-a very Christian zeal, which would destroy a modest champion, however true, who, declining the canonical weapons, should bring down the foe and smite off the giant's head. Two persons are mentioned in the Bible, who have had many followers: the one is Lot's wife, who perished looking back upon Sodom; the other Demetrius, who feared that "this our craft is in danger to be set at nought."

Such, then, are the Pharisees. We ought to accept whatever is good in them; but their sins should be exposed. Yet in our indignation against the vice, charity should always be kept for the man. There is "a soul of goodness in things evil," even in the Pharisee, for he also is a man. It is somewhat hard to BE all that God made us to become, and if a man is so cowardly he will only aim to SEEM Something; he deserves pity, but certainly not scorn or hate. Bad as he appears, there is yet somewhat of goodness left in him, like hope at the bottom of Pandora's box. Fallen though he is, he is yet a man, to love and be loved. Above all men is the Pharisee to be pitied. He has grasped at a shadow, and he feels sometimes that he is lost. With many a weary step and many a groan, he has hewn him out broken cisterns that hold no water, and sits dusty and faint beside them; 66 a deceived heart has turned him aside," and there is "a lie in his right hand." Meantime the stream of life hard by falls from the rock of ages;

its

waters flow for all; and when the worn pilgrim stoops to drink, he rises a stronger man, and thirsts no more for the hot and polluted fountain of deceit and sin. Further down, men leprous as Naaman may dip and be healed.

While these six classes of Pharisees pursue their wicked way, the path of real manliness and religion opens before each soul of us all. The noblest sons of God have trodden therein, so that no one need wander. Moses, and Jesus, and John, and Paul, have gained their salvation by being real men; content to seek Goodness and God, they found their reward; they blessed the nations of the earth, and entered the kingdom of religious souls. It is not possible for falseness or reality to miss of its due recompense. The net of divine justice sweeps clean to its bottom the ocean of man, and all things, that are, receive their due. The Pharisee may pass for a Christian, and men may be deceived for a time, but God never. In his impartial balance, it is only real goodness that has weight. The Pharisee may keep up the show of religion; but what avails it? Real sorrows come home to that false heart; and when the strong man, tottering, calls on God for more strength, how shall the false man stand? Before the justice of the Allseeing, where shall he hide? Men have the Pharisee's religion, if they will, and they have his reward, which begins in self-deception, and ends in ashes and dust. They may, if they choose, have the Christian's religion, and they have also his reward, which begins in the great resolution of the heart, continues in the action of what is best and most manly in human nature, and ends in tranquillity and rest for the soul, which words are powerless to describe, but which man must feel to know. To each man, as to Hercules, there come two counsellors; the one of the flesh, to offer enervating pleasures and unreal joys for the shadow of virtue; the other of the spirit, to demand a life that is lovely, holy, and true. Which will you have? is the question put by Providence to each of us, and the answer is the daily life of the Pharisee or the Christian. Thus it is of a man's own choice that he is cursed or blessed; that he ascends to heaven, or goes down to hell.

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HOW TO MOVE THE WORLD.

ONE day a philosopher came to Athens, from a far country, to learn the ways of the wonderful Greeks, and perhaps to teach them the great lore he treasured in his heart. The wise men heard him; sought his company in the gardens; talked with him in private. The young men loved him. He passed for a wonder with that wonder-loving people. Among those that followed him, was the son of Sophroniscus, an ill-favoured young man, a mechanic of humble rank. He was one of the few that understood the dark, Oriental doctrines of the Sage, when he spoke of God, man, freedom, goodness, of the life that never dies. The young man saw these doctrines were pregnant with actions, and would one day work a revolution in the affairs of men, disinheriting many an ancient sin now held legitimate.

He

So he said to himself, when he saw a man rich and famous," Oh! that I also were rich and famous, I would move the world soon. Here are sins to be plucked up and truths to be planted. Oh that I could do it all, I would mend the world right soon." Yet he did nothing but wait for wealth and fame. One day the Sage heard him complain with himself, and said, "Young man, thou speakest as silly women. This gospel of God is writ for all. LET HIM THAT WOULD MOVE THE WORLD MOVE FIRST HIMSELF. that would do good to men begins with what tools God gives him, and gets more as the world gets on. It asks neither wealth nor fame, to live out a noble life, at the end of thy lane in Athens. Make thy light thy life; thy thought, action; others will come round. Thou askest a place to stand on hereafter and move the world. Foolish young man, take it where thou standest, and begin now. So the work shall go forward. Reform thy little self, and