THE religion of man, in the first ages of the world, was pure Theism. God revealed himself to our first progenitors as their creator and sovereign, and as the creator of all other beings and things. Whether the perverseness of men, previous to the deluge, was such as to result in literal atheism, we have no means of determining. In the renewal of the race, subsequent to the deluge, the religion of man, as at the first, was a pure Theism. Noah and his immediate descendants had abundant means of knowing God, and they regarded him as the intelligent creator and Sovereign of the universe. But men at that period, as in every other," did not like to retain God in their knowledge." They soon forgot him, and forsook him; and God gave up the great mass of mankind to the unrestrained indulgence of their own errors and lusts.

The most ancient of the philosophical sects of Grecia Propria was the Ionic. It was founded by Thales, one of the seven wise men of Greece. The successor of Thales was Anaximander. He first taught philosophy in a public school, and was the first to commit his philosophical principles and maxims to writing. He was born in the year 610 before Christ, and is generally regarded as the first speculative Atheist. He taught that matter, in its substance or essence, is the only thing which has existed from eternity; that all the appearances in nature, even those to which we attach the names of intelligence and will, are but different modifications or affections of matter; and that these, by an inherent, plastic tendency, are generated from itself. There is no need, therefore, of an intelligent, designing first cause. Matter itself, in possession, from all eternity, of these inherent, plastic tendencies, is competent to the production of all the phenomena in nature.

This species of Atheism is sometimes called the Anaximandrian, after the name of its author. It has also been denominated the Hylopathian, because it traces all the appearances in nature to spontaneously generated affections or modifications of matter. The same form of Atheism was taught by Anaximenes, the successor of Anaxi

mander, and by their joint influence was widely diffused.

The successor of Anaximenes was Anaxagoras. He had the wisdom to discover the lurking fallacy in the reasonings of his predecessors, and the firmness to expose and reject it. He introduced into his philosophy a distinct, intelligent cause of all things. Matter being, as he clearly saw, without life or motion, he concluded that there must have been from eternity an intelligent principle, an infinite mind, which, having the power of motion in itself, first imparted motion to the material mass, and produced the different forms of nature. To Anaxagoras, therefore, belongs the credit of restoring to the Ionic school the pure light of Theism, after it had been obscured and lost by his immediate predecessors.

The Eleatic sect of philosophers belonged to the school of Pythagoras. The most of them were natives of Elia, a town of Magna Grecia, from which the sect derived its name. Among the teachers of this school, we find the second form of speculative Atheism which appeared in Greece. It originated with Leucippus and De mocritus. It was afterwards embraced by Protagoras, who, on account of it, was expelled from Athens, and his writings were burnt. These men were the advocates of pure chance. The universe, they taught, contained nothing but innumerable corpuscles, or material atoms of various figures, which, falling into the vacuum, struck against each other; and hence arose a variety of curvilinear motions, which continued, till at length atoms of similar forms met together, and bodie were produced.

These philosophers, we are told, had many disciples, and, strange as it may seem, the above was the most popular form of Atheism of which we have any account in ancient history. In the next century after it originated, it was taught with great success by Epicurus, and became one of the distinguishing characteristics of his school at Athens.

The Epicurean philosophy made its appearance at Fae in the later times of the republic,

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and was embraced by some of the most distinguished citizens, among whom were Piso, Atticus, and Pansa. The Epicurean system found an eloquent advocate in the poet Lucretius, who, with much accuracy and elegance, unfolded the doctrine in his celebrated poem, de Rebus Naturæ The same doctrine afterwards numbered among its votaries the elder Pliny, Celsus, Lucian, and Diogenes Laertius.

The third in the succession from Aristotle in the Peripatetic school, was Strato of Lampsacus. He taught a peculiar kind of Atheism, which has been denominated, sometimes the Stratonic, from the name of its author, and sometimes the Hylozoic. He supposed every particle of matter to possess within itself an inherent principle of life and motion, though destitute of intelligence; which principle is the only cause of the production and dissolution of bodies. He denied that the world was created by the agency of a Deity distinct from matter, or by an intelligent, animating principle; asserting that it arose from a force or life innate to matter, and to every particle of it. This theory agrees with that first described, the Hylopathian, in representing matter as eternal; but differs from it, in that this ascribes a sort of animal though senseless life to each particle of matter, whereas that ascribed to matter in the general a plastic, generative tendency.

In the school of the Stoics, the intelligent mind was regarded as a celestial ether or fire, which pervaded the whole system, much as the soul of man does his body. Hence the universe was thought to be a species of animal, of which the Deity was the forming, guiding, ruling principle. From this account of the God of the Stoics, it must be evident that there was a strong tendency in their system to gross and palpable Atheism; and this tendency ere long showed itself. There were those among the Stoics, who regarded the universe as more a vegetable than an animal, and the life by which it was pervaded and animated as rather a plastic, vegetative nature, than an intelligent, active spirit. Among these Pseudo-Atheistical Stoics are reckoned Boethius and the younger Pliny.

The Pyrrhonic philosophers cannot be regarded as positive Theists, or positive Atheists; because they were not positively anything. They neither believed in the Divine existence, nor disbelieved it. They were universal skeptics. That everything was to be considered as matter of doubt, was the only point about which they had no doubt.

In the 13th century, complaint was made of infidelity as existing in Italy; but what form it

assumed, or to what extent it prevailed, we have not the means of judging. Considering the intolerable corruptions of Christianity at that period, it would not be strange if thinking men were repelled from it, and driven off into the vortex of Atheism. The high repute and authority of the Aristotelian philosophy may have been another cause of the unbelief complained of. Although Aristotle was not himself an Atheist, we have seen that Atheism sprang up in his school, and almost under his own eye, in Greece. Strato, the founder of one of the ancient forms of Atheism, was but the third in succession from Aristotle, in the Peripatetic school. It will not be thought strange, in view of this fact, that at a time when the writings of Aristotle possessed at least an equal authority among professed Christians with the holy Scriptures, Atheism should make its appearance in the nominally Christian church.

Infidelity appeared again in Italy, in the sixteenth century. Among its alleged advocates, were Peter Pompanatius and Stephen Dolet; both of whom fell under the power of the Inquisition, and the latter was put to death.

In the following century, atheistical principles were disclosed in different parts of Europe. In 1615, Cosmo Ruggeri, a Florentine and profligate, died at Paris, who confessed, on his deathbed, that he regarded all that we are taught respecting a supreme Divinity, and evil spirits, as idle tales. In 1689, a Polish knight was put to death at Warsaw, under a charge of Atheism.

A few years previous to this, died the celebrated Spinoza, who is commonly represented as a Pantheist, but who (if his principles are correctly reported) was really an Atheist. Spinoza was by birth and education a Jew; and was a great admirer of the Cartesian philosophy. He lived and died in Holland. He taught that "God and the universe are one and the same thing; and that whatever takes place, arises out of the eternal and immutable laws of nature, which necessarily existed, and were active, from all eternity." He says again, that nature itself is God; and by its inherent powers necessarily produces its various movements." A person holding such sentiments, may call himself Jew, or Pantheist, or what else he pleases; he is in reality an Atheist.

Infidelity made its appearance in England in the sixteenth century; but it had not become matured into the form of Atheism, before the middle of the seventeenth. Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury did not profess to be an Atheist; yet he as well deserves the name as some who have been more open in their professions. He

"represents the human soul as material and mortal, discards all natural distinction between moral actions, and (keeping God quite out of sight) makes morality to depend entirely on the will of the civil monarch." His example was followed by John Joland, who lived at about the same time with him. Joland published a work entitled Pantheisticon, in which he avows himself a favorer and admirer of the philosophy of Spinoza, which acknowledges no God but the universe.

From England, infidelity was transported into France, in the early part of the eighteenth century. Voltaire, D'Alembert, and Diderot, assisted for a time by Frederic II. King of Prussia, entered into a secret combination to effect the overthrow of the Christian religion, and with it all the established forms and institutions of civilized life. In their books, prepared for general circulation, and actually circulated to the widest extent possible, we find the following doctrines, some of them standing alone in their naked horrors, others surrounded by sophistry and meretricious ornaments, to entice the mind into their net, before it perceives their nature: "The universal Cause, the God of the Jews and Christians, is but a chimera and a phantom." "The phenomena of nature, so far from bespeaking a God, are but the necessary effects of matter prodigiously diversified." "It is more reasonable to admit, with Manes, a two-fold God, than the God of Christianity." "We cannot know whether a God really exists, or whether there is the smallest difference between good and evil, virtue and vice." All ideas of justice and injustice, virtue and vice, glory and infamy, are purely arbitrary, and dependent on custom. Remorse of conscience is nothing but the foresight of those physical penalties to which our crimes expose us. The man who is above the law, can commit, without remorse, any dishonest act that may serve his purpose." "The fear of God, so far from being the beginning of wisdom, is the beginning of folly.”

The above extracts from the correspondence and published writings of these men may suffice to show the nature and tendency of the dreadful system they had formed. At the same time, they, and others associated with them, were indefatigable in the diffusion of their principles. Their grand Encyclopedia was converted into an engine to serve this purpose. They poured forth tracts and books in great abundance, and, by means of hawkers and pedlars, contrived to scatter them in all the provinces. By degrees,

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they got possession of nearly all the reviews and periodical publications. They instituted an of fice to supply schools with teachers. They acquired an unprecedented dominion over every species of literature, over the education of youth, and over the minds of all ranks of people, and thus prepared the way for those terrible scenes of revolution and bloodsded which were exhibited in France towards the close of the century. "The miseries," says Dr. Dwight, "which were suffered by that single nation, in the course of a few years, have changed all the histories of the preceding sufferings of mankind into idle tales. They were enhanced and multiplied, without a precedent, and without end. The whole country seemed to be changed into one great prison; the inhabitants to be converted into felons; and the ordinary doom of man commuted for the violence of the sword, the bayonet, and the guillotine. It appeared for a season, as if the knell of the whole nation was tolled, and the world summoned to its execution and its funeral: Within the space of ten years, not less than 3,000,000 of human beings are supposed to have perished, in that one country, through the influence of atheism. Were the world in general to be guided and governed by the same principles, what crimes would not mankind perpetrate; what agonies would they not endure?"

The reign of infidelity and terror in France was short; but the consequences of it are likely to be long. The land is far from being purged at present, and whether it ever can be purged but by the slaughter of other millions-the pouring forth of additional rivers of blood-remains to be witnessed.

The infidelity of Germany is of another type from that of France. It is less open, less ferocious, but probably not less deeply seated, or less difficult to cure. It assumes rather the Pantheistic form; is concealed under the specious name of rationalism; and creeps unwarily, not only into the seat of science, but into the holier sanctuary of the church. Not a few of the professed teachers of religion in Germany, it may be feared, are Atheists,

The infidelity of America is almost entirely of foreign extraction. The poisonous seed has been brought here by unprincipled foreigners, who have planted and watered it, and waited till it has brought forth its bitter fruit. The amount of Atheism in the United States, it may be feared, is not small. For the most part, however, it avoids the light. It seeks to hide its horrid features under some other profession or name.

S

ONE cold market morning, I looked into a milliner's shop, and there I saw a hale, hearty, wellbrowned young fellow from the country, with his long cart whip, and a lion shag coat, holding up some little matter, and turning it about on his great fist. And what do you suppose it was? A baby's bonnet! A little, soft, blue satin hood, with a swan's-down border, white as the newfallen snow, with a frill of rich blonde around the edge.

By his side stood a very pretty woman, holding with no small pride the baby, for evidently it was the baby. Any one could read that fact in every glance, as they looked at each other, and the little hood, and then at the large, blue, unconscious eyes and fat dimpled cheeks of the little one. It was evident that neither of them had ever seen a baby like that before!

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But really, Mary," said the young man, "isn't three dollars very high?"

Mary very prudently said nothing, but taking the little bonnet, tied it on to the little head, and held up the baby. The man looked, and grinned, and without another word down went the three dollars-all that the last week's butter came to; and as they walked out of the shop, it is hard to say which looked the most delighted with the bargain.

"Ah!" thought I, "a little child shall lead them!"

Another day, as I was passing a carriage factory along one of the back streets, I saw a young mechanic at work on a wheel. The rough body of a carriage stood beside him; and there, wrapped up snugly, all hooden and cloaked, sat a little dark-eyed girl, about a year old, playing with a great shaggy dog. As I stopped, the man looked up from his work, and turned admiringly towards his little companion, as much as to say, "See what I have got here!"

"Yes!" thought I," and if the little lady ever get a glance from admiring swains as sincere as that, she will be lucky."

Ah, these children! little witches! pretty even in all their faults and absurdities! winning even in their sins and iniquities! See, for example,

yonder little fellow in a naughty fit; he shaken his long curls over his deep blue eye the fair brow is bent in a frown; the rose-leaf pursed up in infinite defiance; and the whit shoulder thrust naughtily forward. Can any b a child look so pretty even in their naughtiness Then comes the instant change-flashing smile and tears, as the good comes back all in a rus and you are overwhelmed with protestation promises, and kisses! They are irresistible, to these little ones. They pull away the scholars pen, tumble about his papers, make somersets over his books; and what can he do? They tear up newspapers, litter the carpets, break, poli, and upset, and then jabber unimaginable English in self-defence; and what can you do for your self?

"If I had a child," says the precise man, “you should see."

He does have a child, and his child tears up his papers, tumbles over his things, and pulls his nose, like all other children; and what has the precise man to say for himself? Nothing-he is like everybody else," a little child shall lead him!"

Poor little children! they bring and teach us, human beings, more good than they get in return. How often does the infant, with its soft cheek and helpless hand, awaken a mother from worldliness and egotism to a whole world of new and higher feeling! How often does the mother repay this, by doing her best to wipe off, even before the time, the dew and fresh simplicity of childhood, and make her daughter too soon a woman of the world, as she has been.

The hardened heart of the worldly man is unlocked by the guileless tones and simple caresses of his son; but he repays it, in time, by impart ing to his boy all the crooked tricks, and hard ways, and callous maxims which have undone himself.

Go to the jail, to the penitentiary, and find there the wretch most sullen, brutal, and hardened. Then look at your infant son. Such as he is to you, such to some mother was this man. That hard hand was soft and delicate, that rough

was tender and lisping, fond eyes followed ɩs he played, and he was rocked and crais something holy. There was a time when art, soft and unworn, might have opened to Hionings of God and Jesus, and been sealed the seal of heaven. But harsh hands seized erce, goblin lineaments were impressed upon d all is over with him forever!

of the tender, weeping child is made the us, heartless man; of the all-believing child, neering skeptic; of the beautiful and mothe shameless and abandoned: and this is Get the world does for the little one.

here was a time when the Divine One stood arth, and little children sought to draw near im. But harsh human beings stood between and them, forbidding their approach. Ah! it not been always so? Do not even we, 4th our hard and unsubdued feelings, our worldand unscriptural habits and maxims, stand e a dark screen between our little child and

its Saviour, and keep even from the choice bud of our hearts the sweet radiance which might unfold it for paradise? "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not," is still the voice of the Son of God; but the cold world still closes around and forbids. When, of old, the disciples would question their Lord of the higher mysteries of his kingdom, he took a little child and set him in the midst, as a sign of him who should be greatest in heaven. That gentle teacher still remains to us. By every hearth and fireside, Jesus still sets the little child in the midst of us!

Wouldst thou know, O parent, what is that faith which unlocks heaven? Go not to wrangling polemics, or creeds and forms of theology; but draw to thy bosom thy little one, and read in that clear, trusting eye, the lesson of eternal life. Be only to thy God as thy child is to thee, and all is done! Blessed shalt thou be, indeed, when 66 a little child shall lead thee !"

ལུས།

In a chamber where sickness and torturing pain
Had reigned with a fearful control,
Were gathered a group who in bitterness wept,
And anguish and sorrow of soul:

The lips that they kissed uttered voiceless farewells
As their office they strove to fulfill-

The fingers they clasped gave no pressure again,-
The hand had forgotten its skill.

They watch her thro' eyes that are blinded with tears,
And they stifle the sobs which arise;
Unwilling that human emotions should jar

On a spirit so near to the skies:

Too slow and too faint is the fluttering breath,-
Too ghastly the hue of the brow !

They may give to the long pent-up torrent its way,

It cannot disquiet her now.

Oh! moment of most insupportable wo
To creatures of perishing breath,

When we shrink from the first fearful flash of the truth
That we stand in the presence of death,-

That the lid which has closed will not open again,-
That the heave of the bosom is o'er,—

That the look of affection will never return,-
That the lips will be vocal no more!

Thus heart-wrung and desolate-palsied with grief
No reason nor faith could allay,

They clung there as tho' they enfolded her still,
And not the rent veil of her clay:

While she, with the fullness of joy in her soul,
The path of the purified trod,-
Exultingly passed through the crystalline gates,
And gazed on the glory of God.

She cannot look back to the group she has left
So smitten, and orphan'd, and lone,
She cannot withdraw her rapt vision from Him
Who sits in the midst of the throne:

In the bliss of beholding the long lost and wept
So bright in their angel array,

What wonder if every remembrance of time
Were blotted forever away!

But when with a vision more strengthened to bear
The glories that burst on her sight,

The thrill of her rapturous spirit subsides

To the calm of a seraph's delight,

She will turn with emotion that never had known
The depths of such tenderness yet,

To the loved ones whom even the converse of heaven
Would win her in vain to forget.

And ye in whose sorrowful bosoms so long

The passionate ye arning will rise,

Think, think how the bonds that most bound you to earth

Are binding you now to the skies:

How fast they are severing! Link after link

Is loosed from the beautiful chain;
But ah! when the circle is perfect above,
It will never be broken again!