in a mere name, that we should suffer ourselves to be duped or dazzled by it or subjected to its dominion? It can neither protect us from error and mischief, nor guide us in the sure road to heavenly peace and happiness. Why do we not then study the gospel of Jesus Christ, rather than the gospel of Luther, or Calvin, or Hopkins, or Wesley? Why do we not, in this respect, heed the injunction of the Apostle to the primitive converts, not to account themselves the disciples of Paul or Apollos or Cephas or of any other human teacher or master, however eminent or gifted? And why, when we pretend to take the Scriptures as our only authority, do we dread a sentiment or doctrine or truth evidently set forth therein merely because it may be in favor with an unpopular or dissenting party? Why do we hesitate to welcome truth, even though a heretic or infidel may have stumbled upon it? If, indeed, we ever become earnest, dispassionate, persevering seekers after truth, we shall inevitably subscribe to many things which have been admitted by all the beligerant Christian sects-not because they admit them, but because the Bible clearly reveals them. We shall retain much that is common to all. We shall not be Calvinists perhaps, nor Arminians. We shall have become the honest followers of Jesus Christ and of him only. If so, we shall be ready to extend our charity to all his sincere disciples, by whatever appellation they may be known among men. We shall estimate Christian sincerity by the life and practice, rather than by the profession. We shall learn to judge by the fruits, and not by the peculiarities of a creed. Let us then dare to make the gospel the only basis of our faith, and the only rule of our conduct. And we may calmly bid defiance to the slanders and reproaches of an illiberal, bigoted, misjudging, captious world.

If we know our own hearts (the faithful pastors should be able to say,) we fain would be divested of all sectarian and of all secular pride and prejudice. We would preach to guilty perishing sinners neither this nor that distinguished divine or reformer. We would preach Jesus Christ and him crucified. We would acknowledge ourselves his servants and his only. We would glory in his cross, and in being esteemed his ambassadors and ministers and as such, we should feel ourselves invested with an official character and authority infinitely above what any man or ecclesiastical body can impart.

Should we then ascend to the fountain head, and no longer be contented with the shallow and turbid streams, which are flowing in every direction from spurious or poisoned sources, wonderful and glorious would be the effects. How soon would petty distinctions vanish away-party animosities cease-and Christians, every where be disposed to banish envy, malice, pride and bigotry! "Universal charity would throw wide her arms, and humility stoop to the tenderest offices of beneficence. Dove-like meekness would smile with benignity in her heart and candor upon her lips." "Blessed are the peace-makers: for they shall be called the children of God."

ARTICLE II.

THE COMPARATIVE MORAL PURITY OF ANCIENT AND MODERN LITERATURE,

By Edwin D. Sanborn, Prof. Lat. and Gr. Languages and Literature, Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H.

LITERATURE is the mirror of national character. It reflects both the beauties and deformities of the age, in which it originates. The learned and the common mind acting reciprocally upon each other, the characteristics of both are transmitted to posterity in the productions of genius and art. Superior mental endowments are, undoubtedly, the gift of God, yet these find their appropriate stimulus in the excitements of the popular mind, and are fostered by popular praise. In the world's literary history, we occasionally meet with an author who lives in advance of his age and writes for a more enlightened posterity. Such were Homer, Dante, Milton and Bacon. Others act as the teachers and guides of their contemporaries. They discuss those subjects which are of deepest interest to the common mind. Seeing the multitude eagerly contending for principles but imperfectly conceived and partially understood, bringing to the task a nicer discrimination and a more comprehensive intellect, they collect the scattered elements of truth, as they

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exist amid conflicting opinions, and present them, united in one beautiful whole, to the contemplation of an admiring multitude. These are the men who leave the impress of their own minds upon the rising generation, challenge the gratitude of posterity and are justly styled the benefactors of their race. But a large majority of authors prepare their works expressly for the market. They write to please the multitude. They seek popular applause, and they have their reward. Such writers, incorporating, in their works, the prevailing tastes, prejudices and principles of their times, become the representatives of their age, the true indices of national character. No opinion is too absurd, no superstition too degrading, no vice too loathsome, no crime too revolting to find even a talented advocate, if the multitude approve.

It will be readily granted that splendid talents often attract the attention of the vulgar and raise them from their low desires and grovelling pursuits to the contemplation of nobler themes; yet, it oftener happens that the multitude drag down the gifted mind to their own level, and make it the pander of their degraded appetites. Hence the popular literature of every age is tainted by popular vices. This literature, moulded by the habits, feelings, sympathies, prejudices, vices and follies of the age becomes, in turn, an active agent in forming the morals and minds of those who read. Viewed in this light, the influence of those great vices, against which the spirit of our times is arrayed, upon the literature of different ages, cannot be deemed a trifling subject by any well-wisher of his race. The devotee of intemperance and sensuality cannot give utterance to his thoughts without betraying his inherent corruption. The influence of these vices pervades the whole man. Both the moral and physical constitution is corrupt. Not a single filament of nerve or capillary tube remains unscathed, no chamber of the soul unpolluted. The intellectual offspring of such an author must betray its infamous parentage. National vices are thus transmitted to succeeding generations, and time, which destroys every thing else, that is human, only strengthens the influence of splendid crimes. The licentious goddess of Grecian lyrics still breathes her poisonous influence into the soul of the modern student, and the amorous ditties and bacchanalian songs of Roman bards are still

conned with pleasure by the modern sensualist. The influence of ancient literature, however, is comparatively feeble, owing to the limited number of those who study it, and to our want of sympathy with the manners and usages of ancient times. Much of ancient literature, we acknowledge, is corrupt; but we do not hesitate to assert, that a larger proportion of modern literature is still more corrupt. Modern literature is the strong-hold of national sympathies. Written in our own language, portraying scenes like those we have witnessed, describing emotions like those we have felt and presenting countless associations kindred to our own, it comes home to the heart of the reader, touches all the springs of human sympathy and moulds the character of the man.

It has recently become quite popular in order to disparage the study of the classics, to denounce them, en masse, as the puerile and worthless productions of a barbarous age, and to extol the moderns as the only efficient helps to a liberal education and the only safe models of imitation. Some writers, in their zeal for reform, would charge upon the authors of antiquity all the crimes of later times, would bring upon them all the blood that has been shed since the fall of Imperial Rome, and fasten upon them all the intemperance and sensuality which are the offspring of modern luxury. The gentle advocate of peace is shocked with those tales of war and bloodshed which blacken the page of ancient history. "The natural selfishness and injustice of the ancients," says Mr. Simpson," are positively recommended as the noblest objects of imitation; the history of their murderous and aggressive wars, rapine and martial glory is listened to with delight and made in mimic essay the pastime of the playground of every grammar school." Are these historians then to be charged with the guilt and folly of those teachers who positively recommend injustice and selfishness to the imitation of their pupils, and with the perversity and wickedness of those students who delight in tales of bloodshed? Were we to destroy all books that treat of human selfishness and injustice, literature would be annihilated. If we were to banish from our libraries all books that treat of murderous and aggressive wars, national history would be a blank, and the Bible itself must be mutilated.

In treating of the virtues or vices of the ancients, partisan writers generally run into the extremes of commendation or

censure. But in discoursing of this subject as well as others, the direction of the poet is a safe one: "In medio tutissimus ibis." The ancients, it is frequently said, were universally intemperate. In a certain sense this is true. They were systematically intemperate, but their revels were only periodical. In many of their religious festivals excessive drinking was practised, in some it was enjoined as an acceptable service to the god they honored.

Their religion was a religion of the senses. The prevailing element of their worship was excitement. They gave full indulgence to their animal appetites and "allowed the passions of earth to keep holiday in honor of Heaven." Sacrifices and pæans, music and dancing, revelry and feasting were the most convincing proofs of their devotion. But these carousals were only occasional. The common people were not habitual topers. Only the more wealthy class could enjoy the luxuries of life and furnish their tables with the choicest viands and wines. During the public festivals every citizen made merry and sometimes a whole city was sunk in intoxication. But it is well known that an occasional debauch is not so injurious either to the soul or body as the habitual though moderate use of unnatural stimulants. The injury inflicted upon public morals and health by an occasional revel in the city of Athens cannot be compared with the results of the habitual drinking of modern European nations.

The religion of the ancients being thus sensual, their literature, which, in its infancy, was the offspring of religion, must exhibit similar characteristics. Poetry was ever employed in the worship of the gods. If the deities they worshipped were licentious and intemperate, the hymns composed in their praise must necessarily reflect their vices. The drama originated in the worship of the god of wine, and while under the form of comedy. it pandered for the corrupted taste of the rabble, it was deeply stained with immorality and indecency. Tragedy, however, adopted a higher standard of morality, rose above the desires of the unthinking multitude and furnished, for the intelligent hearer, an intellectual treat which could not offend the ear of purity itself. But more of this hereafter. Poetry, in its infancy, was wedded to religion, and of course, exhibited all the imperfections of that religion. Soon, however, it left the airy regions of