to the austere grandeurs of a winter's sky at night, is the work of God's hand. The great process of growth and decay, change and reproduction, are perpetually before him. Day and Night, Serenity and Storm, visit and bless him as they move. Nature's great works are done for no one in special; yet each man receives as much of the needed rain, and the needed heat, as if all rain and all heat were designed for his use alone. He labours, but it is not only the fruit of his labour that he eats. No; God's exhaustless Providence works for him; works with him. His laws warm and water the fields, replenishing the earth. Thus the husbandman, whose eye is open, walks always in the temple of God. He sees the divine goodness and wisdom in the growth of a flower or a tree; in the nice adjustment of an insect's supplies to its demands; in the perfect contentment found everywhere in nature-for you shall search all day for a melancholy fly, yet never find

one.

The influence of all these things on an active and instructed mind is ennobling. The man seeks daily bread for the body, and gets the bread of life for the soul. Like his corn and his trees, his heart and mind are cultivated by his toil; for as Saul seeking his father's stray cattle. found a kingdom, as stripling David was anointed king while keeping a few sheep in the wilderness, and when sent to carry bread to his brothers in the camp, slew a giant, and became monarch; so each man who with true motives, an instructed mind, and soul of tranquil devotion, goes to his daily work, however humble, may slay the giant Difficulty, and be anointed with gladness, and possess the Kingdom of Heaven. In the lowliest calling he may win the loftiest result, as you may see the stars from the deepest valley, as well as from the top of Chimborazo. But to realize this end, the man must have some culture, and a large capital of information at the outset; and then it is at a man's own option, whether his work shall be to him a blessing or a curse.

THE PHARISEES.*

IF we may trust the statement of grave philosophers, who have devoted their lives to science, and given proofs of what they affirm, which are manifest to the senses, as well as evident to the understanding, there were once, in very distant ages, classes of monsters on the earth, which differed, in many respects, from any animals now on its surface. They find the bones of these animals "under the bottom of the monstrous world," or imbedded in masses of stone, which have since formed over them. They discover the foot-prints, also, of these monstrous creatures, in what was once soft clay, but has since become hard stone, and so has preserved these traces for many a thousand years. These creatures gradually became scarce, and at last disappeared entirely from the face of the earth, while nobler races grew up and took their place. The relics of these monsters are gathered together by the curious. They excite the wonder of old men and little girls, of the sage and the clown.

Now there was an analogous class of moral monsters in old time. They began quite early, though no one knows who was the first of the race. They have left their footprints all over the civilized globe; in the mould of institutions, laws, politics, and religions, which were once pliant, but have since become petrified in the ages, so that they seem likely to preserve these marks for many centuries to come. The relics of these moral monsters are preserved for our times, in some of the histories and institutions of past ages. But they excite no astonishment, when discovered, because, while the sauri of gigantic size, the mammoth, and the mastodon, are quite extinct, the last of the Pharisees has not yet been seen, but his race is vigorous and

From the Dial for July, 1841.

flourishing now, as of old time. Specimens of this monster are by no means rare. They are found living in all countries and in every walk of life. We do not search for them in the halls of a museum, or the cabinets of the curious, but every man has seen a Pharisee going at large on the earth. The race, it seems, began early. The Pharisees are of ancient blood; some tracing their genealogy to the great father of lies himself. However this may be, it is certain we find them well known in very ancient times. Moses encountered them in Egypt. They counterfeited his wonders, as the legend relates, and "did so with their enchantments." They followed him into the desert, and their gold, thrown into the fire, by the merest accident came out in the shape of an idol. Jealous of the honour of Moses, they begged him to silence Eldad and Medad, on whom the spirit of the Lord rested, saying, "Lord Moses, rebuke them." They troubled the Messiah in a later day; they tempted him with a penny; sought to entangle him in his talk; strove to catch him, feigning themselves just men. They took counsel to slay him, soon as they found cunning of no avail. If one was touched to the heart by true words-which, though rare, once happened, -he came by night to that great prophet of God, through fear of his fellow Pharisees. They could boast that no one of their number had ever believed on the Saviour of the nations, because his doctrine was a new thing. If a blind man was healed, they put him out of the synagogue, because his eyes were opened, and, as he confessed, by the new Teacher. They bribed one of his avaricious followers to betray him with a kiss, and at last put to death the noblest of all the Sons of God, who had but just opened the burthen of his mission. Yet they took care-those precious philanthropists-not to defile themselves by entering the judgment-hall with a pagan. When the spirit rose again, they hired the guard to tell a lie, and say, "His disciples came by night, and stole the body while we slept."

This race of men troubled Moses, stoned the prophets, crucified the Saviour, and persecuted the apostles. They entered the Christian Church soon as it became popular and fashionable. Then they bound the yoke of Jewish tradition on true men's necks, and burned with fire, and blasted with anathemas, such as shook it off, walking free

and upright, like men. The same race is alive, and by no means extinct, or likely soon to be so.

up the sum

It requires but few words to tell what makes of the Pharisee. He is, at the bottom, a man, like other men; made for whatever is high and divine. God has not curtailed him of a man's birthright. He has in him the elements of a Moses or a Messiah. But his aim is to SEEM good and excellent, not to BE good and excellent. He wishes, therefore, to have all of goodness and religion, except goodness and religion itself. Doubtless, he would accept these also, were they to be had for the asking, and cost nothing to keep; but he will not pay the price. So he would make a covenant with God and the devil, with righteousness and sin, and keep on good terms with both. He would unite the two worlds of salvation and iniquity, having the appearance of the one, and the reality of the other. He would work in deceit and wickedness, and yet appear to men with clean hands. He will pray in one direction, and yet live in just the opposite way, and thus attempt, as it were, to blind the eyes and cheat the justice of allknowing God. He may be defined, in one sentence, as the circumstances of a good man, after the good man has left them. Such is the sum of the Pharisee in all ages and nations, variously modified by the customs and climate of the place he happens to dwell in, just as the rabbit is white in winter and brown in summer, but is still the same rabbit, its complexion only altered to suit the colour of the ground.

The Jewish Pharisees began with an honest man, who has given name to the class, as some say. He was moral and religious; a lover of man and God. He saw through the follies of his time, and rose above them. He felt the evils that oppress poor mortal man, and sought to remove them. But it often happens that a form is held up, after its spirit has departed, and a name survives, while the reality which bore this name is gone for ever. Just as they keep at Vienna the crown and sword of a giant king, though for some centuries no head has been found large enough to wear the crown, no hand of strength to wield the sword, and their present owner is both imbecile and diminutive ;-so it was in this case. The subsequent races of Pharisees cherished the form after the spirit had left it,

clinging all the closer because they knew there was nothing in it, and feared, if they relaxed their hold, it would collapse through its emptiness, or blow away and be lost, leaving them to the justice of God, and the vengeance of men they had mocked at and insulted. In Christ's time, the Pharisee professed to reverence the law of Moses, but contrived to escape its excellent spirit. He loved the letter, but he shunned the law. He could pay tithes of his mint, anise, and cummin, which the law of Moses did not ask for, and omit mercy, justice, and truth, which both that and the law of God demanded. He could not kindle a fire nor pluck an ear of corn on the Sabbath, though so cold and hungry that he thought of nothing but his pains, and looked for the day to end. He could not eat bread without going through the ceremony of lustration. He could pray long and loud, where he was sure to be heard, at the corners of the streets, and give alms in the public places, to gain the name of devout, charitable, or munificent, while he devoured widows' houses, or the inheritance of orphans, in private, and his inward part was full of ravening and wickedness.

There are two things which pass for religion in two different places. The first is, the love of what is right, good, and lovely; the love of man, the love of God. This is the religion of the New Testament, of Jesus Christ; it leads to a divine life, and passes for religion before the pure eyes of that Father of all, who made us, and the stars over our heads. The other is a mere belief in certain doctrines, which may be true or false; a compliance with certain forms, either beautiful or ludicrous. It does not demand a love of what is right, good, and lovely, a love of man or God. Still less does it ask for a life in conformity with such sentiments. This passes for religion in the world, in kings' courts, and in councils of the Church, from the council at Nice to the synod at Dort. The first is a vital religion; a religion of life. The other is a theological religion, a religion of death; or, rather, it is no religion at all; all of religion but religion itself. It often gets into the place of religion, just as the lizard may get into the place of the lion, when he is out, and no doubt sets up to be lion for the time, and attempts a roar. The one is the religion of men, and the best men that have ever lived, in VOL. IX. Critical Writings, 1.

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