his life in anatomizing his heart, and yet never ascertain that which he sought: for he could never fully assure himself that inclination, disguised under some specious pretext, did not cause him to do that which might seem to be dictated by pure reason. In this obscurity God places us, even as to the motives of ordinary life. How much more inevitable is it to fall short of clearness and certainty, when we inquire into the most hidden operations of grace, in the darkness of faith, and in reference to what is spiritual? This restless and determined research after an impossible certainty, is a movement of nature, not of grace. It is strengthened by the plausible plea of holy fear,' of watching,' of guarding against illusion. But evangelical vigilance ought not to be carried to such a point as to destroy the peace of the heart, or to demand a clear view of those obscure operations which it has pleased God to veil."*

Euv. Spir., iii. 425, abridged.

V.

ON THE PAINFUL DOUBTS EXCITED BY THE PREVALENCE OF EVIL AND SUFFERING IN THE WORLD.

You encounter, in the daily walks of life, unnumbered moral mysteries; and can subscribe, perhaps, to the pointed remark of Mr. Cecil,-" A reflecting Christian sees more to excite his astonishment, and to exercise his faith, in the state of things between Temple Bar and St. Paul's, than in what he reads from Genesis to Revelation;"-a fact, which, while it strikingly exposes the folly of rejecting, on account of difficulties, the light of scripture, shows also how much we need that light amidst the painful phenomena of our earthly condition. You are so constituted as to have a quick perception and susceptibility of these: and while minds not discursive, not prompt in associations, engrossed by one object, or observing few, see and

hear and read of the same occurrences without inference or questioning, you find this, at many periods, quite impossible. You are tempted at once to envy and contemn that apathy or dulness which travels on between the hedgerows of habit, and sees an insect long struggling in the fangs of its enemy, as it sees a blossom fall, or a chrysalis disengage itself; while to your own mind the wide-spread influence and reign of evil are suggested afresh at the minutest point of its display. Each fraction and each aspect of it is a new proposal of the one distressing mystery; and, as that which is near and visible strikes us with peculiar force, it may be that to look on a toiling animal starved and lacerated by its barbarous master, or an unconscious infant cradled in the horrors of vice and destitution, has affected you more than the earthquake at Aleppo, or the cells and screws of inquisitors, or the persecutions in Japan.

You want a general antidote for the sceptical and perturbing thoughts, which you know to be widely at variance with revealed truth, but which observation and books and converse too strongly re-awaken; tempting the dark suspicion that creation is, at certain points, neglected by its Author, or consigned to the operation of laws in which evil must profusely and interminably mingle. It is true, as will be afterwards shown, that nothing short of re

velation, in its last and full completeness, is our "rock" and citadel, our strong tower" of defence, against such invading suggestions: but there are fundamental truths, which even natural reason cannot discard, and which revelation amply discloses, that must form the very basis of our standing-place for resistance and repose. First, in a universe which is immense, having an Author and Preserver who is infinite, what can we, his workmanship, rationally expect to know, except what He teaches or permits? Secondly, by an omnipotent agent, with a boundless extent and duration in his works, what may we not expect to see vindicated, rectified, or compensated? These are commonplaces of theology; but they are habitually uttered and received, I suspect, with a very slight and contracted amount of meaning. A part of their very purport, indeed, if I may hazard the paradox, is to state how imperfectly they can be themselves understood, while they would express the inability of all creatures, even the most exalted, to comprehend the divine greatness.

One might imagine, on the first view of this subject, that the lowest order of rational beings would be most sensible of that inability. But analogy and experience correct such an opinion, and lead us to conclude that higher beings have a far more extended and satisfying apprehension of

the infinitude and omnipotence of Deity, and a proportionate sense of their own limitation and weakness, which are correlative to these. The marmot of the Alps, or the lizard basking in the crevice of a rock, must have much narrower views of extension and altitude than the chamois, giraffe, or ostrich. A traveller in the defiles of the loftiest mountains sees nothing but their base, nor can he perceive their magnitude and his diminutive power to scale them, till he laboriously reach some neighbouring elevation. If it be thus in reference to objects which, in comparison with the distances of the nearest worlds, are but as atoms, then consider what a point of view and capacity of vision would be needed, in order to gain a like impression of the scale of some other works of God. What actual impression have we of the vastness of a planet? If we could so approach it, that although still distant, it should conceal very many of the heavenly bodies, itself half fill the celestial hemisphere, and present to us the amazing prospect of a mighty moving world, with its bright rivers and blue oceans, its sun-crowned mountains and dark forests,-how different would be our measurement of our own littleness, of the immensity of that universe in which this huge globe was seen lately but as a petty star, and of the infinitude of Him who governs it!

Thus beings of larger capacities have, I doubt