himself with the evil locality, it was inevitable that he should share in its fortunes; and so it was, that when Chedorlaomer, with his confederate kings, conquered and spoiled the cities of the Plain, Lot and all that belonged to him were carried away. Solely was he delivered by the energy and might of Abraham, who nobly refused to enrich himself by the retention of any of the spoil.

That was a fine opportunity for Lot to separate himself from associations alike sinful and dangerous, but apathy or domestic ties bound him there until Divine pity and anger set him free.

There are some circumstances connected with the destruction of the region and Lot's deliverance which throw light on his character.

The last petition of Abraham for the doomed cities was that they might be spared if ten righteous men were found there. This was granted. † But there were not ten, there were not even two. Lot had lived in Sodom and near it for probably more than twenty-five years; he had during at least a portion of this time close intercourse with some of the people; for as a man of position he "sat in the gate," and some of his daughters had married there; but there is no evidence that he had wrought powerfully and beneficially on a single person!

Lot had no influence over others. The greatness of Sodom's wickedness demanded a bold protest; and if he had been an earnest, active, holy man, hating sin as all men should, and warring against it with lip and life, he must have had influence one way or another.

Had he done his duty, Sodom would have been better than it was, or he would have been dead, or out of it-driven away by the malice his righteous protests would have evoked, or murdered, that they might sin unrebuked and unchecked, or forced away by his own feelings that he might escape the heart-break of witnessing evil he was impotent to check. Is it not strongly indicative of his lack of zeal and influence that even when he went to warn his own sons-in-law of the impending ruin "he seemed as one that mocked" to them?

He left Sodom far too reluctantly. He never ought to have been there. It is marvellous that he should have remained so long, and that at last he partook so little in the moral indignation of his angelic visitors, that he was unwilling to leave. Why this reluctance? It is difficult to suppose any other reasons than that indolence and apathy indisposed him to change; or that his family and personal interests had so identified him with the people that he found it difficult to remove, and had not the energy to force himself away.

We read indeed, and are glad to read, that "he vexed his righteous soul from day to day in seeing and hearing" the wickedness of his neighbours. And this precisely exhibits what he was; a man not destitute of religious feeling, but weak, worldly, and defective, and the former not vigorous enough to correct the latter; sufficiently enlightened to know what was right, but not strong to do it, if obstacles lay in his way, and therefore neither a commendable man nor a happy one. So far it was well that "his righteous + Gen. xviii. 32. Gen. xix. 1, 14.

* Gen. xiv. 12-16.

soul was vexed;" it would have been better still if it had led him to say, "I can endure this no more, and Sodom I quit for ever," for nothing apparently kept him there save a weak and worldly will.

Lot was rescued from destruction; nevertheless it was "so as by fire." His preservation was as much owing to Abraham's intercession as to his own righteousness. And he lost his much-loved possessions. Before he went there his "substance was great," and with the expectation of making it greater still he had gone toward Sodom; but that which he valued so highly the angels despised; and therefore whilst he " lingered," reluctant to leave his possessions, perhaps contriving how best he could carry them away, with gentle force they constrained him to depart. I wonder if as he entered Zoar on that eventful morning, bereft of all he loved too well, his heart turned most yearningly to his consuming possessions, or contritely to Him whose wrath he had so narrowly escaped! Alas! his subsequent history gives no signs of greater faith and holiness. He had been afraid of going where the angels directed him,† as if He who delivered him did not best know where he should go, and would not keep him from danger, if it should arise; and then, after in compliance with his weak request he was permitted to take refuge in Zoar, fearful, faithless, and vacillating, he went to a region more desolate than that which he had been so reluctant to enter. There he dwelt a miserable recluse in the barren, stern hills of Moab, the reverse of that rich and lovely region which "lay toward Sodom."

It was most fitting that silence and obscurity should veil the close of such a life, and therefore we have no record of his death.

The Door of the Lips.

EDWARD STORROW.

"Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips." We have need of the prayer, to guard us against inadvertent words. We often wound the feelings of others, and create hatred and strife, when no harm was intended. Something comes out that was calculated to hit a sensitive spot in a hearer, while the bearing of the word was not perceived by us at the time, and the giving offence by it far from our thoughts; nevertheless the word was spoken and could not be recalled, and apology would only make the matter worse, and so a consequent coolness or hatred sprang up, where we desired only friendship. Some persons have a special faculty for getting into such difficulties, such as are hasty and impulsive in their speech, persons that are as likely to talk about murder and the gallows with one whose kinsman was hung, as upon any other subject. Such people shelter themselves under the plea that it is their nature to speak right out what they

"And it came to pass, when God destroyed the cities of the Plain, that God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow."-Gen. xix. 29.

think, and that they are honest, at least, if not prudent; but it is a duty to be prudent, too, and one who is conscious of his proneness to slips of the tongue, and to blurt out things that ought to be kept in, should not attempt to cover his failing, or to honour it with the name of blunt honesty, but should specially pray against it, and that God would keep the door of his lips.

Inadvertent words, however, are sometimes so evidently without evil intent, that they are readily passed over, but there are words that flow from a wicked heart which need more especially to be watched against. That a man who is kept out of hell only by the mercy of God, should be continually calling on God to damn his own soul and the souls of his fellow-men; that the child should do it, and the old man, and the sick man on the verge of the grave; that it should be done in a passion, and done also in the coolest moments and the pleasantest moods, seems a mystery of wickedness soluble only by the fact that man is fallen and depraved. And there are words little less sinful uttered by those who would shrink from an oath. Among these we may mention what the apostle calls filthy communications, and which he exhorts us to put away out of our mouths. It is hard to say which is worse, the impure word or the profane word. The swearer may often make no impression save for the moment, while the obscene leaves a defiling stain upon the soul that many waters cannot wash out, nor years wear away. Akin to this is the foolish talking and jesting which Paul also condemns. It is hard to draw the line between reasonable and sinful indulgence here. To say that all joking and mirthful jests are wrong is absurd. The quick-witted reply, and humorous word, when springing forth kindly and without offence, are enlivening, and the proof of life; but the habitual jester, who bends all his powers to the paltry end of exciting a laugh, is all froth, relished by none, and healthful for none. Gravity, sound speech, words seasoned with grace, are commended of God, and may safely be allowed to pass by the watch at the door of the lips; but fun-papers and fun-makers had better ask His closer scrutiny.

Clamorous words, wrathful, testy, peevish, bitter, sneering words, curt speaking and detraction, are answerable for large measures of human misery. Anger, says Chrysostom, rides upon noise as upon a horse; still the clamour and the rider are in the dust. A sharp temper and a high-keyed voice in a wife and mother are enough to drive out all comfort from home, and to make even the bar-room and its company a desired, if not a desirable refuge. And we should be specially careful of our words in the day of trouble, or of illhealth, or of bad condition of body, for then we are like the hot springs of Iceland, that need only the provocation of a bit of turf thrown in, to return steam and scalding water and showers of stones. We are sometimes like matches ready to take fire at a touch, and hardly safe to be dropped about anywhere.

Words of detraction and slander require the watch. It is not all mention of a neighbour's faults and deeds that is wrong, for we cannot but notice gross faults; and to speak of them in a proper spirit may be perfectly right, and needful for self-defence and the good of society. The sin and wrong

occurs in being quick to see and publish faults, magnifying them, imagining them, meddling with them when it is none of our business to do so, and speaking of them with promptings of envy, resentment and rivalry. A slanderous tongue moves as naturally in the element of hatred as a fish in the water. One who loves his neighbour as himself, and seeks to do unto others as he would they should do unto him, can hardly be a slanderer. The mischief of detraction springs from a mean, unloving spirit, soured by disappointment, fretted by envy, urged on by meddlesomeness and miserable curiosity. When one with such a frame goes from house to house with the preface: They say, or they do say, but I don't know how true it is, that this man drinks; or, that man and his wife don't live very pleasantly together; or, that man did not come by his money very honestly; or, this woman is no better than she should be-it is very probable that then a busybody and slanderer is at work who greatly needs the prayer, "Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips."

The tongue can no man tame. God subdues it by cleansing and regulating the heart, and then, when the fountain is cleased, the streams will be pure. When we are tempted to say something, but conclude it is as well or better not to say it, or when we put a mild word in place of an angry one, we may know that God's watchman is at his post doing his duty. Leighton remarks, "that David does not ask God to build up a wall before his mouth, and close it entirely, but to set a watch before it as before a door which is open and shut continually." W. H. LEWIS.

Popery-Past and Present.*

OUR enterprising friends, Messrs. Cassell, Petter and Galpin, are doing the best possible service to the cause of truth and of political freedom by the issue of such works as the " 'History of Protestantism;" and that such books-books requiring a large outlay of capital in their production-should be sufficiently popular to be remunerative is so far satisfactory that they are an antidote to Ritualism, as well as the most unanswerable proof that popery is still abhorrent to the English mind. No villany has ever been too black to find its sanctuary within the pale of Romanism; and the most devil-like men who have ever disgraced our species have been the much-prized servants of the system while their services have been beyond measure lauded and rewarded. We have only to instruct people in the history of popery to teach them to hate her as the brazen-faced harlot of Babylon, drunken with the blood of the saints. Though a stupendous fabric of self-righteousness, it should be carefully noted how egregiously the apostate church has failed in exemplifying even the first principles of morality. Popery is pre-eminently an immoral system; and from the noon of her ascendency in the dark ages until the present time she has nurtured and watered the common vices of

"The History of Protestantism." By J. A. Wylie, LL.D. Vol. I. Cassell, Petter and Galpin.

man, so that they have thrived with a deadly luxuriance such as might well astonish the powers of darkness themselves. We believe also in the educational efficacy of the engraver's art in common with the publishers of Dr. Wylie's History. Faithfully sketch popery by pen and pencil, and the evil will then be made to carry with it its own cure. As an author Dr. Wylie is more solid than picturesque; and his sentences are frequently too highsounding to be written by any one who had not gone to school to Johamm and Gibbon while forming a style. Still the materials of the work are brought together with commendable industry; truth is not sacrificed te effect, and the engravings with which the work is embellished form n admirable picture history of the great conflict between Protestantism and Popery-light and darkness.

After the fierce endeavours of heathenism to crush it out of existence had failed, the Gospel spread rapidly in the world. A genial spring succeeded a dismal trying winter, and the growth of the churches was correspondingly rapid. As it commonly happens, the dangers of prosperity proved more formidable than were those of adversity. As they became invested with authority unbecoming their order the pastors assumed more of the pop of the cleric, seeking self-aggrandisement before the glory of their Master. For a thousand years preceding the Reformation the obscurities which sacerdotalism put in the way of the Gospel continued in a lesser or greater degree. In proportion as the Bible was neglected superstition strengthened her stakes, faith was superseded by unmeaning rites, while reverence for men clad in ecclesiastical vestments took the place of the simple piety of a former age.

When the tide of Paganism swept up from the north, the wily ecclesiastics were shrewd enough to escape the general ruin; indeed they allied themselves with the rude invaders in a manner which showed that they were masters of worldly policy :

"From this time the growth of the Popedom was rapid indeed. The state of society favoured its development. Night had descended upon the world from the north; and in the universal barbarism, the more prodigious any pretensions were, the more likely they were to find both belief and submission. The Goths, an arriving in their new settlements, beheld a religion which was served by magnificent cathedrals, imposing rites, and wealthy and powerful prelates, presided over by a chief priest, in whose reputed sanctity and ghostly authority they found again their own chief Druid. These rude warriors, who had overturned the throne of the Cæsars, bowed down before the chair of the popes. The evangelisation of these tribes was a task of easy accomplishment. 'The Catholic faith,' which they began to exchange for their Paganism or Arianism, consisted chiefly in their being able to recite the names of the objects of their worship, which they were left to adere with much the same rites as they had practised in their native forests."

Built upon this its self-chosen foundation, popery, as popery, flourished, while true piety had but few examples, and hid its head in secluded nooks. away from the threatening gaze of worldly ecclesiastics. At length the eagerly-sought triumph was achieved. States were subject to the Church; in the eleventh century Pope Hildebrand assumed the honours of God apon earth; and it was before this pontiff's castle-gates that Henry IV. of Germany