and to allow of his approval, while at the same time they carry with them much that is impure, suited only to inferior appetites and selfish passions; much that would raise in us strong feelings of shame were it urged upon us undisguised, in its naked deformity.

The converse of this truth is perhaps equally certain and remarkable; viz., that there is scarcely a single proposition in morals that does not contain along with its truth a vigorous germ of untruth. There is not, perhaps, a command that can be expressed in language that may not be perverted, misconstrued or abused, by those who desire so to do, without any serious departure from the letter of the law. The conscience is often a safer law unto itself than any verbal precept can be ; for precepts are always so formed as to suit certain emergencies, and are never applicable, without some reserve, to every imaginable circumstance. Even the command, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," is a most fatal law to be enforced upon one who in every act and word shews that he hates himself; that he injures every power he possesses of mind and body; that he has lost all self-respect, and does all he can to escape from self-reproach by destroying his very powers of reflection; and these are not rare cases. Again, even the first and great commandment, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy strength," has actually been so construed by some followers of the letter, as to exclude from their affections every being but the Supreme God. By this means we should naturally end by losing all love for anything beyond ourselves. It has been argued that if our whole heart is given to God, no portion of it can be bestowed upon any inferior creature, however excellent. And this command has consequently been urged as a proof of the divinity of Christ, since to love him as a being distinct from God would be idolatry;-forgetting that we are commanded to love our brother whom we have seen; not considering

that we can only love God in his manifestations of excellence that are known to us; neglecting to remember that it is only by gradually enlarging our affections, by exercising them and elevating them upon all the attributes most God-like which are known to us here, that we can hope at length to raise them to the Fountain of all truth, all beauty, all goodness.

To render these and similar laws strictly universal, we are obliged to insert terms which imply an appeal to our conscience. Thus is it strictly true that we "must love our neighbour even as we ought to love ourselves." If we treated ourselves first in a conscientious manner, then would this be a good criterion as to the mode in which we should shew our love to our neighbour. True to ourselves, we could be false to no one.

In like manner the golden rule is only universal in its application when read thus: "We should do to others as we ought to wish others to do to us." We must not gratify others to their hurt, though we too often desire such indulgences from them. But these instances are sufficient to shew that every law must issue from the conscience, or be approved by the conscience, before its purity can be appreciated and its eternal truth be certified.

In no case are these remarks perhaps more applicable than in regard to the current ideas concerning Retribution and Compensation. The appropriate exercise of the conflicting virtues of justice and of mercy, so as to make them compatible with perfect goodness, has ever been a subject of debate and difficulty among theologians, as well as among the legislators of this world. It is a just expectation, natural to every mind, apart from and prior to any decided experience in the world, that goodness shall ever ultimately triumph and be rewarded; that vice must at length fail, cause severe disappointment to the vicious, and be punished. Man's sense of justice leads him to expect this. His ideas of right and wrong, of a moral Providence in the affairs of this world, require him to have

implicit faith in the doctrine of Divine retribution. In some form or another, this belief is essential to the human mind in every climate and in every condition of life. All believe, more or less firmly, that "God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Accordingly, we involuntarily arrive at the conclusion, without sufficient practical proof of its never varying truth in actual life, that the law of compensation is universal; that there is no virtue without real happiness as its consequence, if not also as its companion; that there is no crime that is not accompanied with or followed by severe penalties. We believe this law to be inexorable and inevitable- -as certain, as true, as universal, as all the laws of the outward world. We believe that so sure as it is that water ever tends to find its own level, so does virtue ever raise and vice ever lower the character, the prospects and the bliss of man. There is no more caprice in the moral world, in the laws that govern the sentiments and affections of man, or in the laws which arise out of them, than there is in any of the arrangements by which the outward world and the stars are governed. The only difference is, that in the former case the laws are far more inscrutable in their detail, and the results far less easily predicted, being in a great measure dependent upon the unknown laws of human volition. There is throughout the universe a beautiful order, an inviolable harmony of causation. There is a mutual dependence of each upon all that preceded the existence of every part of creation, and of all upon whatever accompanies its varied changes. And throughout the whole, the loss of one part contributes to enlarge some other; and the gain of one portion is attended by an equal disadvantage somewhere else. This given for that, is the law governing humanity. All things must be purchased. Labour must be given for all that is received. All that is worth having is worth suffering for. Action is the real source of satisfaction. Success, the result of action, is impossible without

exertion; and this success is the true, adequate reward to him who toils in any one capacity. Sacrifice is needful to ensure success. The giving up of the lower desires, in obedience to our higher instincts, is the condition of progress, and the claim as well as guarantee to compensation. The world is so arranged that truth and virtue, from their own nature, are pre-ordained to success. Right is little more than another word for that which shall be. That which is, is wrong in respect to futurity. All that ought to be, eventually will be. Right will soon acquire that might which ever establishes the actual condition of society for the time being. Wrong, so soon as it is generally acknowledged to be wrong, is withdrawn from the countenance of the moving world, when the crisis comes for its place to be occupied by the right and the true for its appointed time.

Such being the order of the world, it is the interest and desire of all to be found with the right. Each tries to prove himself to be on that side already. Each would deceive himself that the right belongs to him; and were it not for passion, indolence, pride, or the baser appetites, all would take care that the wrong was ever banished from their presence and from all their sympathies, knowing the evils that infallibly accompany it, and that its hour of oblivion must come.

The law of compensation, as we may call it, being so universal in the government of God, that not one of all his commandments can be broken without its corresponding punishment or painful consequence being felt, there is much truth in the declaration, "that God cannot pardon sin without an atonement;" that the JUSTICE of God must be satisfied before we can expect or look out for what we regard more especially as His mercy. For justice is nothing more than the rigid

enforcement of law. And God's laws do not change and are not altered. Much pernicious doctrine has doubtless been constantly mixed up with this great truth, which has in consequence nearly gone into undeserved contempt or oblivion.

The error has always arisen from a fatal forgetfulness how much higher and more perfect are all the thoughts and ways of God than those of man. We cannot be entrusted safely

with the correction of our fellow-man. Our feelings of resentment are aroused when we think of inflicting punishment. Our vindictive feelings are called into play when we propose retaliation or demand satisfaction and compensation. geance, as a state of mind, belongs solely unto mortals, and in them it requires constantly to be checked and repressed. Vengeance, as denoting simply a certain course of action such as in man invariably accompanies this bad feeling, belongs properly to God, and to Him only, because He alone can chastise and afflict mankind to their own good, no less in mercy and wisdom than in justice.

Why, then, should man ever desire that a law, regulation or commandment of God should be changed or suspended? Are they not all perfect? Are they not all suited to man's condition and character as a being capable of progress, of free action, of self-improvement? Were they changed, must they not necessarily become less perfect? Were they suspended, must it not be to the detriment of millions of God's creatures? If God's ways are perfect, as we cannot but believe them to be from the very conceptions we form of Deity, they must be unalterable. All that takes place must ever be in accordance with the same perfect wisdom, complete power and boundless love. Justice is but the constant adherence to all these perfect laws. And what else could Mercy herself desire? If all God's laws are perfect, they must all be merciful; all for man's welfare; all in accordance with the unsearchable wisdom and love of God. Any deviation from them in that case would be unmerciful. Any suspension of them would be cruel.

But what do we mean by "God's pardoning sin without an atonement"? To pardon is to let off a criminal without the share of pain that was thought to be due to him. It is to for