by the prevalence of evil in the world, both very dangerous.

The one is a temper, (the more dangerous, if found united, as it sometimes is, with a stronger piety,) which if too much listened to would tend ultimately to destroy the essential love of right that is in man, and detestation of wrong; and to superinduce a species of fatalism. It is to be traced, in a too eager readiness to look upon prevailing evil in the light of an impediment, which, because we ourselves can certainly neither see nor expect its end, is hardly to be considered as surmountable; but almost as a subject of despair. From which subjection to the power of wrong, merely by reason of its immensity, or seeming permanency, the descent may often prove only a single step to the toleration of abstract evil by deliberate choice; either as a thing in which we must acquiesce, and shall therefore do wisely to become reconciled to; or (in some particular cases) as a burden even preferable to certain other possible conditions, upon a balance of expediency c.

I cannot forbear adverting (in illustration of this last position) to that most inconsistent favour shown towards BUONAPARTE, by many pious people; arising, I suppose, from calculation with themselves, that the dominion even of such a man were a less evil than the restoration of Popery. Possibly, meditation upon the deeper parts of Scripture may

12.

Now we admit the existence and the prevalence of much and monstrous wickedness; we observe its progress with grief; we expect its consequences with fear and trembling. It does not come upon us unprepared. Our Saviour has forewarned us of it, and of its present calamitous effects; Be- Matt. xxiv. cause iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold. We cannot even hope, therefore, to witness its suppression; and yet we must contend against it, and contend perseveringly! Strange seeming contrariety! and yet perfect consistent truth! in itself a sufficient and conclusive argument, that the moral certainty, however great, of an end which rests in other hands, does not dispense with the diligent employment of such righ

have become the cause of this preference, by pointing to the tyrant as an instrument likely to fulfil yet unaccomplished prophecies. But if so, then, surely, speculations of that sort are highly dangerous. For all fulfilled Scripture, all the light of conscience within us, all the experience of past ages, concur, in persuading us to abhorrence and resistance of such a monster, at the hazard of any consequences. The voice of God, I am persuaded, is clear on this point; be the intentions of unsearchable Providence concerning that man really what they may. But it is far from clear, that we are justified in so interpreting the deep things of the Spirit yet to befall, as to let them obliterate all convictions generated by the past for our moral preservation. Such convictions, too, are common property; which no person, holding only a joint share, has a right thus to adventure.

teous means, conducive to it, as are entrusted to

our own.

But here the second dangerous temper, just now mentioned, presents itself to view,-in the impatience of a self-complacent philosophy, which because it does not see religion operating to the extinction of evil, with a speed and power answerable to its own estimate of necessary and possible reform, rejects the divine counsel in this matter altogether, and, passing it by, springs forward, in its own strength, to the amendment of the world at once. As though it actually saw, and could measure both the source and the extent of evil, more surely than Scripture; and could bring a better hope to the desire of subduing it.

Now clearly there is a mistake here, either on the one side or the other. And we think it is on the side of the philosopher, and not of the believer, for such reasons as these.

Christian faith certainly desires, nay, demands the perfection of man, as much as the most sanguine philosophy can do. Religion sees and laments the domination of wrong, as keenly as the purest reason can. It is true, that reason and religion, philosophy and faith, presently part company, when a closer analysis of evil begins, in order to ascertain the means of cure.

mit, that the extent of immediate

And we may

ad

visible relief an

ticipated by the theorist, is greater than any upon which the believer presumes to reckon with peremptory confidence d.

Which if it be so, it may perhaps be objected,that then, surely, the philosopher appears to have this manifest and great advantage; that as he sets to work under a brighter hope, he will proceed with a more lively courage; since he himself considers his desire possible, his energies will be the more persevering, in proportion as his prospect of success is greater and nobler. Whereas the Christian, being sure beforehand that his success will not be more than partial, will be likely soon to retreat into his reserved hold of impossibility, and cease from his endeavour.

appears

I answer, no: the very reverse of this the true case. It is the believer who is most likely to persevere; and the philosopher that will most commonly falter.

For to the eye of faith it is clear as demonstration, that the theorist, starting in the outset on deficient principles, pursues an end which actually is unattainable, whether he think it so or not. As it has been said, however, he himself thinks otherwise of it. The sun shines upon the morning of his journey, and he sets to work in

d This was written before the Plan lately proposed by Mr. Owen was brought before the public. That plan, and the previous publications of Mr. Owen, may serve to illustrate the observations here made.

cheerfulness. I will not say, that he may not work until his life's evening. There is a cold and watery sun, that shines through many a day with the appearance of splendour, when the earth is little heated with its beams, and nature little invigorated. When we look for the real growth it has produced, there is none; for its heat was not a vital one. So may it fare with the philosopher, in plans of human perfectibility without religion. The splendour of talent may cheer him on his way; partial success in private instances, or even general (apparent) success, under the first impulses of novelty, may encourage and assure him; and the deceptious glare of a posthumous celebrity may shed a lustre on his dying hour. I do not say, but that all this is possible: though even this is only possible in the rarer instances of really powerful native minds amongst unbelievers. But disappointed vanity would benumb the efforts of a far greater proportion: for supposing their perseverance to relax upon discouragement, and they incline to leave the world after all such as they found it, what shall hinder them? They are answerable at no tribunal; they have no account to give. Is not this likely to be the end of the matter; to conclude, that they offered the world a boon, and the world would not accept it; they would have rejoiced to labour more, but the world was not worthy?

The believer enters on his task under very dif