to his name;" he is yet sometimes represented in the Free Enquirer, as "a miracle-monger," "a magician," "an encourager. of intemperance," as "wanting in filial affection," and as "strolling about, afraid of being seen." In consonance with such profligate ideas, the abettors of this new infidelity exhort every man to banish religious feeling altogether; to look on the ground as he walks, and not to gaze on the stars, lest he plunge into an unseen morass, or tread on a hidden scorpion; to "mind the earth, while he lives on the earth," and defer the thought of heaven, until he sees that there is one. In short, there is nothing sacred, nothing honorable, nothing exalted, nothing useful, nothing delicate,-no, not decent even, which these reformers' do not dilapidate with indiscriminate ferocity; and, had they arms as strong as their hearts are black, they would sweep, as with a Sirocco, through the whole length and breadth of our land, every hall of political science, and every seat of legal justice, the crowded marts, the still retreats of Lome, the groves of the Academy, and the whole Garden of God.

Our readers have, doubtless, made their own reflections during the progress of our remarks. Particularly, they cannot but have noticed the resemblance which exists between infidelity and other systems of error. We do not deny that there are differences, for the engines of the great adversary must be adapted to the different objects which he attacks. Men of high intellectual character, must have a strongly intellectual system; men of delicate sensibilities, a refined one; men of courser mould, and undisciplined mind, a system glaring with absurdities, and openly licentious. Still, the spirit of all is the same. Among the different races of men-the white, the yellow, and the black, all have the same general features of body, and the same sort of soul. We have often spoken of heresies which ́ have been introduced into our community by the most dishonest concealment of their cardinal principles. It has been by the same process, that Owen and his disciples have endeavored, as long as possible, to secure the countenance of respectable citizens. They succeeded by it, at first, in gaining some ascendancy among the Working-men of New York, and for many months they identified, in popular estimation, their own infidel cause with the cause of a party which embraced in its folds many intelligent and pious individuals. We have often spoken of denominations, which claimed for themselves all that was enlightened and "liberal," and even "rational," and which denounced the system of truth as "narrow" and "exclusive." But no one can read the infidel publications of the day, without seeing inscribed on them, too, "We are the men, and wisdom

will die with us; there is no expansion of mind, save with those who have shaken off the trammels of religious bigotry, and have refused to wear the yoke which the Priesthood impose." Revivals of religion are the principal object of attack, at the present day, among the anti-evangelical Christians, and so they are also among Infidels; and the men who are most frequently vilised in some of our sectarian publications, are the same, who, in the same manner, are vilified in the publications of the Skeptics. The moral influence, too, of infidelity, is of the same generic character with that of lax theology. The main-spring of the moral man is broken alike by both. Sanction is taken from law, and odiousness from sin; true penitenceis discouraged, and faith in the merits of another, is reprobated as "foolishness." We might point to a father in a neighboring state, whose four sons began to learn the ways of infidelity, and to forsake, at the same time, the path of sobriety and virtue, and who have now all commented on the character of their belief by an ignominious death. But we need no multiplication of instances, to prove that the atmosphere of a lazaretto will dry up the fountains of life. We simply request that every man of heretical tendencies, especially if he lays claim to superior intelligence, will reflect on the strong alliance there is between the most polished and the most revolting errors; and that he will candidly consider whether that system must not be true, which arrays against itself all the vicious propensities and the wayward inclinations of men, and stands breasting a torrent of worldliness, vanity, and pride, and having done all this, -"stands."

REFLECTIONS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JUDAS.

In the annals of the church or of the world, there does not exist a name which occupies a blacker place on the page of infamy, than that of Judas. I need not be very particular in going over with his history. Every one knows that in an early part of our Lord's ministry he was called to be one of his disciples. Notwithstanding he was always a consummate hypocrite, and was under the complete dominion of covetousness, it does not appear that his sincerity was suspected by his fellow disciples, or that he was inferior to them in his preaching, or, in the main, in his apparent zeal for the honor of his Master.

On a certain occasion, when our Lord was at Bethany, Mary, a warmly-attached and devoted friend, came to him, and as an expression of her affectionate regard, poured a box of very precious ointment on his head, as he sat at meat. This was the very thing to waken the ruling passion of Judas; and, contriving to conceal his covetousness under the cloak of economy, he had the hardihood to ask that most unkind question, "To what purpose is this waste?" Such a question never could have proceeded from the lips of one who had not already the heart of a traitor; and this was the introduction to that memorable scene of perfidy and cruelty, which stamped him as the prince of traitors. Jesus, with his accustomed kindness, vindicated the woman against this vile insinuation of prodigality; and this wakened in the breast of Judas another passion, not less hateful than the other, viz. revenge; and under the influence of this, he was now quickly prepared for that desperate act which has brought upon his memory the curses of every succeeding age. Forthwith he went about plotting for his Master's death. With a heart kindling with revenge on the one hand, and with avarice on the other, he went to the chief priests and elders, literally set up his Lord for sale; and for thirty pieces of silver, actually bargained him into their hands. This done, he returned, and with abominable impudence, sat down at the table with the Master whom he had betrayed; and eat with him and his fellow disciples the passover, as if there were nothing in his heart but kindness and good will. But his Master had an eye that ran through that guise of friendship, and beheld the traitor; an eye that darted like a flame of fire into his inmost soul, and laid bare that whole plan, the execution of which, was to involve his own death. He at first, without designating the traitor, declared to his disciples the heart-rending fact, that one of them should betray him; and then, to relieve them from the distressing apprehensions which this intelligence occasioned, (each one, except Judas, fearing lest he was the individual referred to,) he pointed directly at the wretch who was to perpetrate the deed. Judas, yet more enraged by this discovery, went immediately to the chief priests, and procured from them a company of armed men, with a view to apprehend him. Jesus, mean while, well knowing what awaited him, had retired into a garden-a place, it would seem, to which he had often retired for secret devotion; with a view to fortify himself, by communion with his Father, for the scenes which were just opening upon him. And there, in that retired and consecrated spot-in the hour of darkness, in the hour of prayer, in the hour of awful anguish, was he assaulted by a ruffian band,

with Judas at their head. The wretch dared to prostitute a token of affection as a signal for making the attack; and forthwith, when he had kissed his Master, the mob fell at their work, and seized him, as if he had been a thief or a robber. Jesus was carried off in fiend-like triumph, to be tried by the Jewish council; the result of which, as every one knows, was condemnation. And now the traitor, also, is having a trial-not before the Jewish Sanhedrin, but at a different and far more impartial tribunal-the bar of his own conscience. His trial, too, issues in condemnation; and the sentence is more than he can bear. Suddenly, away he flies, and in an agony of desperation, seeks relief by committing suicide;-and we know something of him beyond that: we may say of him, with confidence, what the Bible warrants us to say of no other hu man being, that he certainly weat down to the abyss of despair "to his own place."

From the history of Judas we may derive many useful reflections.

1. We may learn the mired character of the visible church. Judas, from the beginning, was a bad man. He came into the family of our Lord, from no other than mere selfish considerations. He never had a particle of love to the Saviour, or regard for his cause, otherwise than he may have supposed he could render it subservient to his own aggrandizement. Whether he always knew that he was capable of the malignant treachery of which he was finally guilty, or whether circumstances developed that in his character which surprized even himself, it is not easy to determine; but it is certain that he was always a hypocrite: probably there never was a moment, from the time that he came into the family of our Lord, that he was not ripe for any plot, however malignant, which promised to minister to his ruling passion.

Now what happened to the church when it consisted of only a few individuals, has been true of it in every stage of the progress of its enlargement: it has embosomed a greater or less amount of hypocrisy. There always have been, and we have reason to believe always will be, those joining themselves to the number of God's people, from mere worldly considerations; persons who could take into their hands the memorials of their Saviour's death, when they had a spirit which, if opportunity were given to it, would lead them to imbrue their hands in his blood. Though the omniscient Saviour knew, from the beginning, what was in the heart of Judas, yet, inasmuch as his external conduct, for aught that appears, was exemplary, he still suffered him to retain a place in his family. And though

a church may suspect that individuals in her communion are hollow-hearted, and have even the spirit of Judas, yet, unless that spirit comes out in visible and palpable actions, she has no right to exclude them from her privileges. If he who searches the heart, could tolerate in his church a Judas, while yet he did not openly transgress, most undoubtedly we, who have no other standard by which to judge than the external conduct, ought, while that remains unexceptionable, charitably to presume that it is in accordance with the feelings of the heart. It were wrong to tolerate gross sin in any professor of religion; and the church which does it, exposes herself to the displeasure of her Master; but it were as truly wrong to circulate evil reports, or indulge evil surmisings concerning those of whom charity may hope that they are in the main influenced by the temper of the Gospel. `

But there is another and probably much larger class in the church, who must fall under the general name of hypocrites, who do not deliberately intend to practice deception, but are self-deceived. Some of these have come in by the urgent solicitations of friends, who, they imagine, can judge better of their duty than they can themselves. Others have mistaken the nature of the evidence of Christian character, and have supposed themselves Christians when they are not, in consequence of judging by a wrong standard. And others still have come in prematurely, bringing with them no better character than that of the stony ground hearers. In this way, the number of the self-deceived, no doubt, becomes very great; and it admits not of question, that when the church is in her purest state, she embosoms multitudes who are training up, amidst all her privileges, for perdition.

I know how natural a feeling of self-security is to those who have obtained a standing in the visible church; especially to those who know nothing of the power of religion. Insensible as they are to covenant vows and obligations, they do not forget that they have assumed them; thus enrolling themselves among the visible followers of Christ. They come regularly to the table of the Lord, to celebrate a distinctive Christian ordinance. They are associated with the people of God in those things which point directly to their peculiar character. They are acknowledged as Christians by the church, and, for aught they know, by the world; though the world are eagle-eyed to discern the evidence that they are professors, and nothing more. All these considerations conspire to keep them easy in the conviction, that their title to heaven is sure. There are cases in which professing Christians are manifestly converted, after they