on the elements of their creed, taught them that evil could not be ultimate; but not perceiving its true nature and relations, they were driven, in order to preserve the appearance of consistency, to cut the knot they could not disentangle, and boldly to deny its existence altogether. Thus the very elements of truth which their system embodied, were converted into paradox, and rendered powerless as guides to human conduct, for their dogmas found no response in the general mind. They sustained no weakness, they soothed no sorrow; for they opened no cheering views to the eye of faith and hope. Suffering humanity, when these cold and stern precepts and unsympathizing rebukes fell on its ear, could not but feel that it was mocked, not instructed; and turned away discouraged, if not disgusted. It was not the mission of Stoicism" to heal the broken-hearted." To all such it was a mocking demon, not a ministering angel.

In the other sects the case was no better, but rather worse. In some scarcely the first elements of truth were attained to. Human life and human nature were the veriest riddles. A sick man's dream could not be wilder, and more disordered. Strength and weakness, light and darkness, wisdom and folly, good and evil were combined in utter confusion, on no clear principles of sequence and to no perceptible end, or intelligible purpose. To one, man seemed an abortion, the failure and miscarriage of a noble design; to another, the unaccountable and irretrievable perversion of what had once been symmetrical and consummate, while a third adopted the sage conclusion, that the creating power, in a merry humor, had thrown him off to afford amusement to his betters, the grand Antick and Merry Andrew of the Universe.

Thus futile, if not mischievous, were the profoundest speculations of the sages, so called, of the olden time. Thus vain were they "in their imaginings, and their foolish hearts were darkened." The very truths they elicited, and they did, from time to time, elicit bright and beautiful truths, wanting basis, keeping, and harmony, became inert and unprofitable. They could not fasten themselves on the conscience; they could not sway the will or stay the torrent of the passions. They had no voice potential to awaken the sleeping echos of the soul, or stir the energies of the inner life; and so they only fell upon the external ear as a pleasant sound, that perished in the utter ing, or produced, at most, a slight transient emotion.

VOL. XXXV. 3D s. VOL. XVII. NO. I.

5

I have said, that "the speculations of the philosophers were futile, if not mischievous." I have no doubt they were so. The general opinion seems to be, that we are to look for the finest samples of heathen morals among those who were called the learned and the wise of those days — those who had reached the highest elevation of the then existing civilization. I doubt the correctness of this opinion altogether. On the contrary, it is, I think, clear from all we can gather regarding the moral condition of the mass among the nations of antiquity, that the purest morals, the simplest humanity, the sternest integrity, the kindliest and the purest social intercourse were to be found in the unenlightened portion of the community in the vale of private life, among those, in short, who were uninitiated in science, letters and arts; and who knew no philosophy but the plain dictates of honest hearts, and unsophisticated understandings, who had never heard of the philosophers, or heard of them only as visionary and idle dreamers, whose humor it was to find amusement in puzzling themselves and others. In this humble class there were doubtless unnumbered individuals, who were wise without the rules of art, endued with that highest wisdom, a simple, truthful, and believing spirit, a spirit that rested upon, and appropriated the good which it perceived; and submitted quietly and patiently to the evil which it did not comprehend, and perplexed not itself to explain. On such as these the eye of Heaven looked down approvingly. They were "faithful in a very little." And of such the masters of ancient science might well have taken lessons. To a spirit such as this there was enough even in the religious systems of paganism to give vitality and exercise to the sentiments of faith and hope, feeble and imperfect, certainly, in comparison with what the teachings of Jesus supply, but still of great and inestimable value. For it cannot be, it were monstrous to suppose it, that the uncounted myriads, that passed over this earthly scene before the introduction of Christianity, lived without virtue, and died without hope. They were men like ourselves, with the same unquenchable instinct of immortality struggling blindly, often, and ineffectually, but still struggling towards its appropriate objects. And in men of quiet and genial temperament, where was no riot of the passions to occupy and engross the whole man, the spiritual must, in some measure, have asserted its prerogative, and caused its influence to be felt. It cannot be, that the original and inherent image of the Divinity

should have been wholly obliterated, and the heavenly spark utterly quenched. It cannot be, that the Universal Parent had no purposes of spiritual discipline for this portion of his offspring. It were a most unworthy conception of the Infinite Father, which would represent him as having but recently begun to care for his children. It is wise and more consolatory, to believe, that even in paganism there is a basis of substantial verity; something adapted to the wants of those, among whom it prevails. If it were otherwise, it could not subsist; and when its mission is accomplished it will undoubtedly pass away. God's purposes, like the great processes of nature, which indeed are parts of them, come not to perfection in an hour; and because we see not their advance, we are ready to doubt its existence. But a thousand years are with him as one day. In the perceptions of the divine mind the past, the present, and the future are identified. These distinctions are not entities, but relations only. They have reference to limited intelligences; not to the Infinite and Eternal. He contemplates results alone. To him events exist in their completeness, not in their progress. He seeth the end from the beginning, and in the beginning; and needs not to wait, like us, for light to be evolved from the darkness; for with him all is light.

It is not easy, I am well aware, to express in adequate and intelligible terms one's views on this and kindred topics. It is not easy to find expressions for thoughts that transcend, go above and beyond the principles on which language itself is formed. And modes of expression, too, react necessarily and powerfully on modes of thought. Hence we are liable to fall into the habit of regarding terms, which actually express nothing more than the imperfection of our faculties, and their unavoidably partial if not erroneous perceptions, as ultimate and final, and the indices of essential and consummate truths. We perpetually forget in the pride of our reasoning, that often we see only the wrong side of the tapestry; and that mortal ken can see no other. In some such dim and misty conceptions, I apprehend, we are to look for the ground and origin of much of the scholastic reasoning and theological dogmatism on the subject of foreknowledge and free will. The radical misapprehension, it seems to me, is the assumption, that the distinctions, that exist to our minds, must also exist to the mind of the Supreme, and thus mark and designate the realities of things. And yet

it is not difficult to conceive, that this may not be the case. May we not go farther and say, that in some respects at least, this cannot be the case? That the Infinite and the finite mind, in regard to the sum of things, must take different views; and that some of the ideas, actually existent to the perceptions of the latter, to those of the former must vanish and disappear? To return from this seeming digression, let me ask, may it not be so with what we call evil? Is it not conceivable that this may owe its existence to the imperfection of our faculties; and that where we shrink, as in the general acceptation of terms we ought to shrink, from charging its origin upon God, we do, in reality, shrink only from a shadow of our own creation? May not this be so, and may there not be sense, and the highest sense, in which in perfect consistency with his infinite perfections, it may be said that God is the author of evil, as of good? Let us speak and think reverently on this subject; for reverence is our proper attitude. But certainly there are many passages in the sacred writings that seem to intimate as much as this, and which, to humble and pious spirits, need not be explained away. If the scoffer will pervert them to the blinding of his conscience, and the hardening of his heart, let him look to it. To the impious and unbelieving is nothing pure. To our minds, undoubtedly, evil presents itself as a distinct substantive existence, the opposite and correlative of good, or happiness; and as real and permanent as this. And for all purposes of moral discipline let it be so regarded. Let the soul meet it with these views; and submit to it with meekness, bear it with patience and resolution, or do battle with it manfully according to the different aspects and characters in which it presents itself. I enter not into the common distinction between physical and moral evil. I do not deem it necessary to my purpose; for I believe they both are subject to the same ultimate laws; and for man at least I cannot find that they exist in entire separation.

I repeat, is not evil, or may we not suppose that it is, not positive, but relative, subsidiary, or initiatory to good? Not the result of oversight or accident, external interference or invincible necessity; but of consummate design and benevolent will? In the divine plan, can there be gratuitous suffering, superfluous, purposeless ill? I have said that evil is relative. Is it not so? In the world of realities can there be light without shade? Can one walk in the sunshine, and cast no shadow? Now in

and without imperfection, there

an imperfect stage of being, can of course be no progress, is not evil the shadow of good, as error is that of truth? And do not all these distinctions owe their existence to the imperfection of our powers; to our necessary position? We are so placed, our point of view is such, that the shadows fall towards us, and are therefore conspicuous. To an eye of more comprehensive vision, or looking from the opposite point of view, they would be hidden by these substances, and the whole scene would be bright and unclouded. The amount of what I would say is, that evil is not absolute, but relative; not permanent and self-sustained, but temporary and parasitical; not existing of itself and for itself, but an offset from the stock of good, and subservient to the purposes of good; having a ministry, and a ministry of love too, to accomplish, and in the accomplishment of which it will spend itself, and disappear.

Correction, discipline, belongs to a progressive state, and can exist in no other. It is possible to imagine a system of things, in which all grades of being should be formed at once in the highest perfection of which their respective natures were capable. But it is obvious that in such a system there could be no progress, no improvement. Innocence and purity would be there; but no kindling aspirations after higher good, no delight and joy in expanding views, and new inflowings of spiritual light; no softening of the heart by sympathy, no self-sacrificing benevolence, no resolute defence of right, no heroic virtue, no lofty scorn of wrong, no cheering consciousness of increasing strength, no patient submission to the dark and inscrutable will of the Supreme, and no triumphs of that glorious faith which "against hope believeth in hope." All these are the fruits of a state of imperfection; they are produced by the ministry of pain, or evil, nor can we conceive of the possibility of their production by any other agency. This is then the inevitable condition of their existence. Shall we murmur, shall we wonder, at its introduction into the world? Shall it shake our faith in the wisdom or the goodness of the Infinite Father? In what possible way could these attributes have been more brightly or more touchingly displayed?

Much of the evil of human life is undoubtedly made to depend on the action of the human will. In other words, it is contingent, and may exist, or may not. But again, is not this very contingency necessary to the training and education of the human will? Does it not constitute the very essence of