ployed, set your faces against it. Owe no man any thing but love. Tell the rich fool, that, worship him who may, you will not; that you have weighed his pretensions, and have come to the conviction that folly remains folly, though set in gold; and that wisdom shines with undiminished luster when its only setting is poverty and rags. We will not be gold, and glitter, and purple worshipers. Rank without Christian worth we will pity; wealth without virtue and pretensions without mind we will scorn. We will reverence nothing upon earth but truth and righteousness, and we will worship none in heaven but God himself, and his son, our Savior, the Lord Jesus.

In concluding my remarks and these lectures, I may give a short, practical advice. Shrink from the company of infidels and skeptics as much as may be. Depend upon it, ignorance or vice is the key to nine-tenths of popular infidelity. There is nothing magnanimous in it. The skeptic talks big and looks wise, but in his secret moments he is a wretched creature. He constantly parades his opinions, not from depth of conviction, but because he wants something to keep his conscience quiet, as school-boys whistle in dark places to keep their courage up. When you can not dispose of a skeptic's objection, recollect it is your preparation that is at fault, not his argument that is strong: inquire, and you will reach the fact that extinguishes him. His depth is easily sounded, his resources are very limited. Yours are infinite and inexhaustible springs, and your ground the Rock of Ages. Do not be led into the false position, that to sneer at the Gospel is wit, to make double`entendres at its expense is cleverness, and to reject it as a fable, the signature of a profound mind. It is all the other way. Great thinkers can not find rest till they find it in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This great problem not

only exercises the vast powers of their intellects, but in it they find ever-increasing delight.

Redemption is the science and the song
Of all eternity. Archangels, day
And night into its glories look. Saints
And elders round the throne, old in the years
Of heaven, examine it perpetually,
And every hour get clearer, ampler views
Of right and wrong; see virtue's beauty more;
See vice more utterly depraved and vile,
And this with a more perfect hatred hate-
That daily love with a more perfect love.

I have said, flee infidelity; I say also, flee Popery. Flee
Puseyism too, which is infant Popery. Puseyism is just
Popery in a Protestant cradle, rocked by Dr. Pusey. It
is but a shabby Popery after all; it is nothing but a
stunted Popery; it is Pius the Ninth personated by Tom
Thumb; it is Hildebrand without his tiara; a mutilated
breviary-neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. If man's senses
are the rightful judges between Puseyism and Popery,
they will give a unanimous verdict for the latter; for
Popery has all the splendor, the pomp, and the pageantry
that the senses love. If conscience, truth, the oracles
of God, are the only criteria, they condemn both. I
must say,
I dread the priest in the present day more than
any. Ecclesiastical domination is the polarity of the
ecclesiastical air; the miter and the crown upon one
man's head is a formidable spectacle. I would rather
have a British Parliament decide and dictate than any
Church convocation, court, or convention upon earth; for
when the priest can say, "Give me your mind without
examination," a prince will soon follow, who will add,
"Give me your liberty without control." I therefore dis-
like Popery in all its shapes, colors, and pretensions; it is
anti-social, anti-spiritual, and anti-national. If I might
define it shortly, it is a religion that holds that sanctity

is not in the man, but in the office; not in clean hands and pure hearts, but in an unbroken succession. It is a religion that worships the altar instead of God; that trusts in the crucifix instead of Christ; that substitutes maceration of the flesh for mortifications of the passions; that makes a powerful stomach the test of a pure conscience; that makes length of fasting an atonement for shortness of creed; that bows down the soul by ceremonies, instead of captivating it by love; a faith of broad phylacteries; a cleansing the outside of the platter and genuflections; in contrast to that sublime faith, the sentiment of which is, "God is a Spirit, and he must be worshiped in spirit and in truth." Cleave to the good old ways of Protestant Christianity-the religion that has made our country to be great, glorious, and free. Prefer any of its formularies-I care not what denomination you select, provided it be Protestant. Give me the Protestantism of the Church of England, the Church of Scotland, the United Presbyterian Church, the free Presbyterian Church, the Congregational Church, Baptist, or Wesleyan, and I will make you a present of all the rest. But that system which argues thus:

"If Chaldee, Syriac, Hebrew, will not bend,
And stubborn Greek refuse to be your friend;
If languages and copies all cry 'No,'

The Church has said it, and it must be so,"

I can not agree with for a moment.

Fear not for the issue. All things are in progress, and all will, erelong, beautify the temple, or bring incense to the claims of the everlasting Gospel. Every thing upon this earth has its mission. The ever-sounding ocean has its mission in connection with the cross. Steam shall move before the ark of the Lord, like a pillar of cloud by day, along the Bosphorus, the Tigris, and the Caspian Sea. The paper manufactory is allied to the Bible So

ciety, and both to the Gospel. Those electric telegraphs are being prepared to communicate the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Those giant oaks upon a thousand hills shall yet move beneath the swelling canvas across the sea, and carry unsearchable riches to distant lands. All things may die, but truth ever lives:

Truth crushed to earth will rise again,

The eternal years of God are hers;
But error wounded writhes with pain,
And dies amid her worshipers.

Man's opposition shall be turned into impulse; man's superstitions, that have partially darkened the sun, shall be dissolved in showers, and fertilize the soil they menaced with barrenness. We are upon the eve of wonderful events. All men, more or less, consciously are gathering together to the last assize; the instruments are tuning for the eternal jubilee. All things help it. Our prayers, our praises, our toils shall help it; our means shall help it; and God himself will create it.

There is a fount about to stream,

There is a light about to beam,

There is a warmth about to flow,

There is a flower about to blow,

There is a midnight blackness changing

Into gray.

Men of thought and men of action,

Clear the way!

Aid the dawning, tongue and pen;

Aid it, hopes of honest men;

Aid it, paper; aid it, type;

Aid it, for the hour is ripe

And our earnest must not slacken

Into play.

Men of thought and men of action,
Clear the way!

SELECT LECTURES.

XI.

The Mythology of the Greeks.

BY REV. JOHN ALDIS.

DELIVERED BEFORE THE

YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION,

OF LONDON,

IN THE WINTER COURSE OF 1847-8.

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