God Manifest/Part 2/Chapter 2 Section 3

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God Manifest (1858)
by Oliver Prescott Hiller
Chapter 2 - Section 3
2413798God Manifest — Chapter 2 - Section 31858Oliver Prescott Hiller

SECTION III.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL EVILS.

We come, now, to speak of the evils that afflict man as a social being,—as a being connected in society with his fellows. These are, indeed, well nigh innumerable: we shall have, therefore, to make a selection of a few principle ones as subjects for remark—namely, War, Tyranny, and Poverty. A consideration of these will be sufficient to answer our purpose; which is chiefly to show, that God cannot be regarded as the author of the evils and disorders that are found in human society, any more than He is the author of disease or of noxious things in nature; but that these, like all other things which cause grief and pain to man, spring from his own evil of heart: thus continuing the proofs that all physical evil is derived from moral.

WAR.

First, then, let us consider the terrible evil of War. When we think of war, such as it actually is,—striving to raise our minds above the hardening influence of custom, endeavoring to forget the familiarising records of wars which history presents, and to look at the subject in its true aspect—it really appears a thing inconceivably horrible. To see two great nations, each comprising millions of individuals, coolly resolving to rush upon each other, not merely with their empty hands, but armed with clubs and axes, or sharp swords and spears, and, yet further, with instruments belching forth fire and smoke and able to throw leaden bullets into the eyes and bosoms of their fellow-men, inflicting mortal wounds,—and, behind all, dragging great engines, loaded with heavy iron balls, which are able to crush in the faces and skulls of tens and dozens of human beings at a shot:—it were a sight, it would seem, for angels to weep at, for men to shudder at!

Then, the battle itself,— how awful! Tens of thousands of men stand assembled on the one side of a field,—and an equal number on the other,—preparing themselves for the work of mutual destruction. How many hearts in those crowds quivering, if not with bodily fear, at least with an undefined sensation of dread, as they stand thus in the very presence of Death! What anxious thoughts of home and friends, wife and children, parents and sisters, crowd at such a time on the oppressed brain! what a tumult of conflicting emotions! the terrible excitements of suspense are quite intolerable; and, in spite of dread, they almost long for the battle to begin, to shake off the horrors of these waiting moments. At length the hostile line is seen advancing—it is coming on. Now brace the nerves— now, fellows, stand strong—here they come;—"support me and I will support you." O, this is terrible—is there no escape? Those dreadful sabres of the cavalry glittering in the sun as they come on! Stand firm now! The order is given—"Fire!" The ranks discharge their muskets, and, in the midst of the smoke, the horses are upon them! O then the terrible meleé! The shouts of the cavalry as they leap in,—the dreadful stroke and crash of their heavy sabres—the oaths and curses and cries of poor wounded fellows, trodden under foot> or crushed beneath the weight of dying horses, or within reach of their terrible heels as they furiously kick in their death agonies:—the roar of cannon,—the sharp crack of musketry,—the shouts of officers, ordering, calling, countermanding,—now urging on their men, the next moment falling from their horses as the death-shot reaches them—the hurrahs and shouts of temporary victors—the horrible silence again, save the earnest sound of the deathwork:—O, what a picture! O, what a scene! Is it not hell visible?

Yet how many such scenes has yonder sun witnessed! how many thousands of such scenes of slaughter do the pages of history record! And we sit quietly by our fire-sides, and read these descriptions, till our minds, become quite familiar—not indeed with the scenes as they really are, for that we could not bear—but with such general accounts of them as we find in books;—and we get at length to think that war is a very proper affair, and a matter of course. But could the peaceful reader look upon the scene and be in the midst of it, he would find it altogether a different thing from that which his imagination paints—nodding plumes, and martial music, and standards, and triumphs;—he would see it to be the horrid work of fellow-men hurting and killing each other.[1]

Yet we should not be unjust, or fanatical, even in our opposition to war; for there may be fanaticism even in so good a cause as the advocacy of peace. We cannot agree with those, who, in their extreme zeal, term all war "wholesale murder." This is a confounding both of terms and of ideas. The essential character of an act is not to be judged of from its form or appearance, but from its motive. Murder is the deliberate destruction of human life, from the motive of malice and revenge, or of cupidity. It is therefore a deadly sin, because the mind of such a person is in a state of the completest opposition to the great law of love, which proceeds from Him who is Love itself,—and which is the bond of heaven, and the very essence of goodness. Now a state of opposition to the nature and laws of the Divine Creator is what we call sin; and the greater and more complete the opposition, the deeper is the sin. The spirit of Murder is the very opposite, because it is the nature of Divine love to give life and joy, while the murderer seeks to destroy life and its joys. Deliberate murder, therefore, is the direst of sins: consequently, Hell itself is called murderous: "the devil," it is declared, "was a murderer from the beginning."[2] Now, wars do not in general proceed from, nor are they carried on with, such a spirit as this. In most wars, indeed, the greater part of those actually engaged in the work, both officers and soldiers, are free from feelings of personal malice and hostility. They are doing what they believe to be their duty to their country, not pretending to judge of the right or wrong of the cause, but simply obeying orders. A great stimulant, no doubt, in most cases, is the hope of glory and of gain—a selfish, and therefore not a high or very noble, end; but such a disposition is very different from that of murder, and therefore to call all war "wholesale murder," is neither true nor just.

There may be, indeed, cases of wars that are not only justifiable, but righteous; as when waged in defence of one's home and country, and also in protection of just rights and liberties, which are necessary to render home and country happy and desirable. In such case, the dutiful and praiseworthy purpose changes altogether the character of the action, both in man's view and in God's. The action may be itself one of violence, but there is not at the bottom of the heart any desire to injure; the final end is simply protection,—to protect the good and right against what would destroy it. When William Tell and his brave compatriots rose in defence of their beloved Switzerland, and fought manfully to expel from the soil its tyrants and polluters,—every just mind feels that they were performing a noble and praiseworthy action, and that the blessing and the aid of Divine Providence could righteously be with them; for they were supporting the right against the wrong, good against evil. When the Scots at Bannockburn, about to battle for their native land, for their homes and firesides and all they held dear,—knelt down in their ranks and lifted up a short prayer to Heaven for aid to their just cause,—they did so with honest hearts, and their prayer was answered. When the great Washington—fighting for his country's liberties,—put himself at the head of his patriotic troops, and charged, sword in hand, into the midst of his enemies, who will say that he was not performing a dutiful action,—one, on which even the Divine Eye might look without displeasure? And why? Because God, as it is declared, "looks not at the outward appearance, but on the heart:" because it is the motive, which gives character to the act. An outward act of violence may yet be done in love; as when a faithful parent punishes a naughty child for its good;—as when even the gentle Saviour Himself, "the Prince of Peace," did, with "a scourge of small cords," drive out the profaning money-changers from the Temple, and "overthrow their tables."[3] To punish the evil is to protect the good.

Wars, moreover, are sometimes necessary to break up institutions of civil or ecclesiastical tyranny, which can be overturned in no other way. Such wars are the ultimate effects of conflicts of opinion: they are the visible results of combats between truth and error, right and wrong. Such, for instance, were the great and terrible wars that followed the Reformation—wars between the Protestant and Catholic parties on the continent of Europe. The English civil wars in the time of Charles I.,—the war of Independence, waged between England and America,—and the wars attendant upon the French Revolution,—were in essence, combats between the principles of Liberty and Tyranny. Such wars, like storms in the atmosphere—though violent at the time—are, in their effects, purifying and beneficial.

It is doubtless true, therefore, that there may be wars that are justifiable and necessary. But, it is to be feared, that the greater part of the terrible conflicts that have desolated the earth, have sprung from the evil passions of men—especially from the lust of conquest and dominion, one of the direst evils of the human heart, and one which has been among the chief sources of human suffering. The desire to rule over one's fellow-men, to bring them into subjection, to put them under one's feet and be their master;—the desire to reach a throne, and, when it has been reached, to extend sway and rule over wider and wider territory, and over greater and greater numbers of human beings;—or, what is perhaps still worse, the desire to get spiritual power, to exercise dominion over men's minds and souls, as in the corrupted Church:—^this monster passion, in any of its forms, is one of the most depraved and deadly evils that can reign in the heart of man. This wicked ambition, as all history shows, has been a most fruitful source of desolating wars,—wars that have ravaged whole countries with fire and sword, slaughtered thousands and myriads of men, and made millions of weeping widows and orphans.

And why, it may be asked, does a good Providence permit such scenes and miseries? Why does He tolerate such deeds? Why does He not send down His thunderbolts and part the combatants? The reasons lie deep in the counsels of Divine wisdom;—yet He has in part made them known. The great reason is, doubtless, the same as that for the permission of evil of any kind,—namely, that man, to be man, must be left in his freedom—in the freedom to think right or to think wrong, to love good or to love evil, to form to himself plans, and at least to seek to carry them into execution. Take away this freedom,—and you have stocks and statues, not human beings,—lifeless images, not men. Humanity implies liberty of thought and of feeling, and at least of effort at action. If, then, men, abusing that liberty, choose to think and will what is wrong and evil, rather that what is good and right, the chief sin is committed already in that very wicked desire and purpose: by this, already, the spirit is perverted, and inward peace destroyed. The evil notion is a mere consequence, and does not in the Divine sight constitute the essence of the sin, which lies in the evil heart and inclination. And, in such case, to forbid and restrain all action, all carrying out of the evil purpose, would oftentimes only tend to increase the burning desire, and make the evil longing and passion more intense. This law of the mind all know from experience. Whereas, to let it out, to let it have its way for a time—has often the effect of allaying the excitement, of cooling the heated inclination,—and sometimes, where the evil is not confirmed, even produces a reaction, by causing disappointment and disgust; and the individual, finding that he was mistaken in his hope of fancied good, gives up his wrong purpose, and turns to a better course.[4]

Now, as it is with individuals, so is it, in a manner, with nations, which are a compound of individuals. When the evil spirit of war—feelings of hate and revenge, or the lust of conquest and dominion,—have taken possession of the national heart, it is already in a state of sin; in the Divine sight, the deed is already done. Then, absolutely to restrain all action, to check all attempts at carrying out the ambitious purpose, might, in some cases, only aggravate the evil. The wicked attempt consequently, is permitted,—and war with its miseries follows. Are those miseries to be attributed, in any sense, to the Divine Providence, to the good Creator, to our God above? Are they not all the direct effects of the bad passions of men? In such case, are not those physical evils, those bodily sufferings, the direct consequences of moral evil? are they not the effect of the indulgence of sinful inclinations on the part of rulers, or on the part of a whole people? It may be said,—the innocent suffer together with the guilty,—innocent wives and children, and well-disposed citizens, as well as the fierce soldiery and the lovers of war: is this just? But how is that possible to be prevented? While in this lower world, we are bound together in such close social and national ties, that we must in a greater or less degree, enjoy together and suffer together. Yet the good, while they may suffer outwardly in a degree, through their necessary connection with the evil,—yet have, within, a peculiar comforter which the others have not,—the presence of their God, and with it that peace, which the world, as it did not give, so cannot take away.

But while, thus, some wars are necessarily permitted, as the less of two evils, who can tell how many are restrained or prevented by the watchful care of Divine Providence!—how many wicked attempts frustrated, how many ambitious designs discovered and checked in the bud! We have many very striking proofs of this, in the history of the world, during the last thirty-five years. How many threatenings of wars have there been,—how many gatherings of lowering clouds on the horizon,—how many wordy contests of diplomacy, and the rousing of angry feelings between nations! Yet, still, the shining car of peace has kept on its way, scattering flowers and riches and pleasures on every side; and the world has enjoyed a longer interval of quiet, kindly feeling, and brotherly national affection, than at any time, probably, for ages past,—if, indeed, there was ever such a one before.[5] This may be considered as the commencement of that "good time coming," which all are so anxiously looking for. Yet we should not be deceived. It is in vain to expect a settled and lasting outward peace, till there is a settled inward peace. While there is ambition, selfishness, and evil in the hearts of men, we may cry "peace, peace, but there is no peace." So long as false principles are fixed in men's minds, and thence false and unjust institutions exist in the Church and in Society,—then, when the light of truth comes and clearly exposes these,—there must be a combat and a storm within, and thence there will sometimes be storm, and revolution, and war, without, also. When the Prince of Peace shall have established his reign in the world, by the regeneration of the individual men that compose the world, then, and not till then, will a true and solid peace be established upon earth,—a peace which shall endure. Then "shall they sit every man under his vine and under his fig-tree, and none shall make them afraid." Then may men, without fear, "beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; for nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more."

TYRANNY.

A second great social evil now presents itself for consideration, namely, Tyaranny. This should, perhaps, more strictly be termed a political than a social evil. But the two things are in fact, so far as our present purpose is concerned, essentially the same. That is termed political, which has reference to government: but government is exercised over a society of men, called a nation: and the nature of the government powerfully influences the state and condition of that society, either for good or for evil. A political evil is therefore also a social evil.

It may reasonably be a matter of wonder to a reflecting mind, that the great and good Ruler of the Universe should permit thousands and millions of His intelligent creatures—their lives, their property, and all their earthly interests—to be subject to the disposal, the will and caprice, of one individual,—a man, often-times, no wiser or better than themselves. It certainly does appear—looking at the subject in the abstract—contrary to all reason and justice. And it may confidently be pronounced a state of things, quite opposed to the original order, and such as could not have been designed in the beginning by the wise and good Father of all. It is one of those evils which man has brought upon himself, by his departure from the path of rectitude,—by his fall from the state of original innocence and purity. In tearing himself loose from the gentle and wholesome restraints of Divine and heavenly order, he brought himself under subjection to a harsh and tyrannical earthly order; for some kind of order there must be, or society could not exist: throwing off the light and "easy yoke" of his Heavenly Father, he fell under the hard and iron one of an earthly master.

This truth is set forth in a most distinct and striking manner, in the history of the Jewish people. After having been brought out by Moses, under the Divine guidance, from their state of hard Egyptian bondage,—they were led, through a series of most remarkable providences, to the "good land" promised them, and there at length firmly established. Their government was an absolute theocracy, a direct Divine government. They were led, taught, and ruled,—as no other people ever were,—immediately by Jehovah, the Creator and Governor of the Universe. Their laws were given immediately from Heaven,—first spoken in their ears, with a loud and awful voice, amidst thunders and lightnings, from a mountain's top, and afterwards written down for them on tables of stone by the very finger of God. Their leaders and judges were commanded and counseled immediately from on High, and directed what to do in all things. In a word, this remarkable people were directly God-governed. No earthly ruler durst tyrannize over them, for his life would have been the immediate forfeit, had he made the attempt. Their human governors were but agents of the Divine Being, appointed by Him, and, after being so appointed, guided by Him in all affairs. Still the people were left in freedom—as all men, to be men, must be—in freedom to obey or to disobey the Divine commands, Yet they w«re promised, as the reward of obedience, every earthly good and blessing,—fruits and cattle, and health, and children, and friends, an abundance of all things that their hearts could desire: but, if they should disobey, they were threatened with loss of all possessions, and all comforts, with pains of body and wretchedness of mind, and every kind of suffering and misery.

Such was the condition of this remarkable nation, this chosen people. Not for any peculiar merit of theirs (as it was repeatedly declared to them), were they thus selected; still less is it for a moment to be supposed, that it was done through any partiality in the Divine Being, who is "no respecter of persons:" but they were chosen as instruments to effect certain great purposes, affecting the future good of the whole human race;—especially to be the depositaries of the wonderful Divine Word, or Holy Scripture, which was to be written through their instrumentality, and afterwards by them to be published to the world, and also by them to be sacredly preserved in its original tongue. It would also seem as if it were intended to make manifest, in the case of this people, the obduracy of the human heart in its present fallen state; and to make it plain to man, that if he comes into suffering and distress, it is the consequence of his own stubborn wilfulness, and not the effect of any will or design of his Heavenly Father, who prepares and intends all things happy for him, if he will but pursue the course necessary to enjoy the blessings bestowed. Whether intended or not, we may, at least, with justice draw such a lesson. Here was a people, situated in circumstances the most highly favoured possible. Here was a nation, governed directly by the good and all-wise Creator Himself, who was their teacher, leader, lawgiver. Yet they rebelled, rejected Him for their Governor and Guide, and demanded a king. Was there ever a case of man's so directly casting away blessings, and throwing himself into miseries? Through the prophet Samuel, the Lord warned them of the danger they incurred, and foretold the hardships they would suffer, and the tyrannical treatment they would subject themselves to, if their desire was complied with. But all in vain:—they still demanded a king: they bound their necks to the yoke; they would be slaves. They were allowed their desire; for the very fact of their having such a desire, and insisting upon its being gratified, was proof that they were not in a fit state to be ruled in any better manner: they would submit to no other rule. Thus is it, that from the beginning man has brought evil on himself. His kind Creator intends and provides real good for him; but, led astray by the hope of some fancied good, he will not follow his all-wise Guide, nor yield to His gentle sway; but, breaking loose from the Divine government, subjects himself to the tyranny of his fellow-man, and thus brings upon himself a thousand ills.

We may see, from this instance, that the existence of arbitrary and despotic governments in the world, is not to be ascribed to the Divine will, but is one of the effects which man has brought upon himself, by falling into sin, and by an indulgence of his own evil inclinations, and thus rendering himself unfit for any better or freer government. In this instance, as in all others, man's physical evils are still the result of hie moral evils.

The reason, beyond doubt, why there are so few nations, at the present day, enjoying a state of civil and political freedom, is, that there are so few fit to be free. Think you that a single man, called a king or an emperor, could hold under his thumb, or tread down under his heel, ten or twenty or fifty millions of people, if they had sufficient mental enlightenment, and at the same time, sufficient moral excellence, to render them worthy of a better lot? Were mankind in their state of original purity and wisdom,—as easily might a king hold in subjection the starry heavens, and control the planets in their courses, as he could make a million or a thousand men obey his arbitrary will. And were the nations, now slumbering in ignorance and vice, to wake to a renewed state of knowledge and right, of goodness and truth,—as well might an emperor lay his hand on this globe of Earth, and stop its revolution on its axis, as stay, or check the rising of a people determined and worthy to be free!

No! it is because the nations,—or, what is the same, a majority of the individuals of whom the nations consist,—are not in a state fit for freedom, that they remain so sunk in servitude. And what is it, it may be asked, that constitutes fitness for freedom? We would answer, in the first place, that it is not merely a desire for freedom, that constitutes such fitness; it is not merely an awakening to a sense of wrongs, and a new consciousness of possessing civil and political rights,—that fits man to enjoy such rights:—other preparation is needed. Such an awakening seems now to be generally going on among many of the nations, and hence the violent throes and spasmodic efforts to shake off the yokes to which their necks have so long been callous. But this new consciousness and desire alone does not give fitness for freedom, and hence it is not found able to secure it. A mere vague wish for a treasure or blessing does not put us in possession of it. A mere desire even for heaven itself brings no man to heaven: the desire serves but as the spur to action, and as the incitement to make use of the means by which fitness for heaven is attained. So, the general awakening of the nations to a sense of their rights, which we see now going on,—though the sign of a new and healthful life stirring within them,—yet is not sufficient alone to secure their rights, or to fit them for their enjoyment even if secured. It is one thing to desire a blessing, and quite another thing to be worthy of it.

The test of fitness for freedom is man's power of governing himself. For a free nation does not mean a nation without government at all: that would be a state of anarchy and confusion, in which might would make right, and the law of the strongest would prevail. A free people is one that governs itself, instead of being arbitrarily ruled by one or a few individuals: it is a people, that either immediately or by its representatives is able and willing to make proper regulations, and put itself under wholesome restraints, such as all men and ail societies of men need to be subjected to, in the present imperfect state of existence. A nation sufficiently enlightened and with sufficient self-command to do this, is fit to be free,—not otherwise. A people that is not able or not willing to govern itself, must have a master: precisely as a youth not yet come to years of discretion, or as an insane man who has lost his reason, or as a criminal who is not willing to restrain his evil inclinations,—must be put under restraint and under absolute government. Order in society and in the world must be observed at all hazards; because out it the world would go to ruin, and the ends of man's existence on earth could not be accomplished. Man is placed in this world to become fitted for heaven,—to become prepared for a happy eternal abode in a higher and spiritual state of existence. This is his destination, if he is willing to take the means to arrive at it: this is the great purpose of his being: this is the end of ends, which the Divine Providence has in view. All other things, consequently, are subsidiary and subservient to this. The multitudes of human beings, thus temporarily sojourning on this globe, are collected into greater and smaller societies called peoples and nations. Now, in these societies order must be observed, not merely for the sake of present quiet and peace, but above all, to enable men to accomplish the great object of their being, which, as before said, is to fit them for the future eternal life. It is plain, that were all things in perpetual tumult and confusion,—disturbance and contention on all sides—deeds of violence and wrong committed in open day, and no power to check them,—robbers breaking into houses, and murderers running through the streets with naked swords in their hands,—in such a state of things, what could the peaceable and well-disposed do? What time and what opportunity could they have, either for performing the duties of the present life, or for preparing themselves for that which is to come? The whole order of life would be broken up. The public teaching of religious truths that point the way to heaven, would cease; the instruction of children would cease; marriages themselves would cease to take place: in constant fear of their life, men would have no heart to undertake any regular duties, or enter upon any courses of useful action. Society, in a word, would perish; mankind would perish; and the world would become at length a desert.

Beflecting on these things, it may be clearly seen, that, truly, as the poet affirms,

"Order is Heaven's first law;"

order is the first necessity of human existence, at least of men's existence in society: and without society there could be no proper human happiness, for man is essentially a social being, because he is formed to love and be loved: and he is so formed, because God is Love, and man was made in His likeness. Viewing the subject in this light, it will be seen that a primary end which the Divine Providence must have in relation human society, is to secure order. For attaining this end, there are more and there are leas desirable means: but when the better cannot be employed, the worse must be. It were by far the best means, that each individual should govern himself, keeping his own actions in good order, observing ever a due regard to the rights and the happiness of others. This is the most perfect order: this is the order of heaven; and was intended to be that of earth also, and would be, were men in a regenerate state: and such we may hope it will yet be, in a coming day. But where this cannot be attained,—where internal and self-restraints are wanting,—there must be outward restraints, and subjection to the law of force. Now this, unfortunately, is the state of all mankind, in a greater or less degree, at the present day: all men, in their present fallen condition, need some outward restraints. Hence the necessity for governments; men need to be ruled by laws of compulsory obligation.

This general state of things, however, exists with much variety. There are governments, some more and some less arbitrary: in these national societies there are greater and less degrees of freedom. And to an enlightened eye it will appear plain, that, under an overruling Providence, these different kinds of government are, on the whole, nicely adjusted to the character and state of the nation governed. The preservation of human freedom is indeed a great end of the Divine Government; and it is doubtless provided that every individual, and every society of men, shall receive as much of this blessing as they can bear—as much, indeed, as will be to them a real blessing,—keeping not merely time but eternity in view. For it is to be remembered, that in the Divine sight this temporary state of existence is as nothing compared with the eternal one. All God's ends regard man's eternal welfare: to secure that, is His one great purpose. Compared with the eternal state of existence, all the scenes of this sublunary state, which we talk and think so much of, are but a "fleeting show." This great truth God never forgets, though man may. He knows well that every individual now walking the streets, or dwelling in a palace or a hovel, or pining in the confinement of a prison—has an immortal soul, and is destined to live for ever: and that while his sojourn here is comparatively but for a few days, he is soon to enter upon another state of existence, in which he is to dwell for thousands and millions of years,—for ever. To secure man's happiness, then, for the long life hereafter, is God's great end: as to what may happen to him in this little span of existence here, this comparively momentary state— whether he pass it. in poverty or riches, in sickness or health, in a palace or a hovel, in liberty or bondage, it matters little in the Divine sight, except so far as it affects his eternal condition. And in his all-wise Providence, He permits man to be brought through just such states of trouble or of joy, of pleasure or pain, of freedom or of restraint, as He sees in His wisdom will best conduce to the great end—man's everlasting happiness. By keeping in mind this great law of Divine action, we have at once a key to a thousand permissions, which seem mysterious, strange, and unaccountable to one who takes into view only this world and this life. How often, on this passing drama of existence, is Vice seemingly triumphant, and Virtue overwhelmed and prostrate; the tyrant powerful and successful, and the innocent, his helpless victims. God looks on, and does not stay the oppressor's hand. No! He lets the wicked have their way for a time. But He is ceaselessly effecting His own wise purposes; for the good, He is secretly turning the engines of oppression into means of purification,—while with the same instruments their wicked oppressors are preparing their own destruction. The tears of the Madiai[6], shed in the silence and darkness of their prison. He is using to water the tender plants of humility and resignation in their own souls, thus preparing them to ascend from the depths of their dungeon to a higher place in heaven:—while, at the same time, the sight of their unjust sufferings is rousing the thought and heart of their countrymen and of all Europe, and aiding to prepare the nations, in due time, to rise and strike the blow which shall break to pieces not only their fetters, but the political and mental chains of all mankind.

That blow, however, must not be struck before the time, or it will be useless and injurious,—it will but rivet the chains more firmly. It is vain to seek, by force and violence, or by any outward efforts, to induce a state of freedom on a people, before that people is inwardly prepared for it. In so doing, you are fighting against Divine Providence, thus against Omnipotence,—and your efforts, consequently, must be vain. Remember the principle that has been laid down, that "order is Heaven's first law;" and the reason that it is so, namely, because only in a state of external order in society can the great eternal purposes of God, in regard to man, be carried on. While men, therefore, are not in a fit state to govern themselves and keep themselves in order, He will set up kings and emperors to govern them by force; for it is better that men should suffer in body and property, than undergo the risk of far greater moral evils, which would result from a state of licentiousness and anarchy. Witness the horrors of the old French Revolution, the "Reign of Terror," and then ask if the tyranny of any king or emperor is a hundredth part so fearful. While the Divine Eye sees, then, that a people is not fit for freedom, and that if their chains were broken they would rush at once into licentiousness, He provides, as a necessity, even though a hard necessity, that they shall be governed by an absolute power above them. It is vain in such case, to seek, as is sometimes done, to overturn the tyranny by an assassination of the individual who wields it; for, by such means, the reckless avenger does not at all strike at the root of the evil,—he merely lops off a twig at the top of the tree, which will instantly grow up again.[7] The root of a nation's bondage (it is to be remembered), lies in the heart, in the diseased state, of the nation itself: the tyrannical government is but an ugly biossom from that poisoned stem. Dig up the diseased root, and the whole tree of oppression, branch and blossom, would at once fall. Let a nation but become prepared for freedom, and freedom will follow, as certainly as the roll of the thunder follows the lightning's flash,—as surely as effect follows cause.

But now we come to the final question,—how is a people to become prepared for freedom? What constitutes such preparation? That has, in a manner, been already answered—namely, fitness to govern themselves. But what constitutes fitness for self-government? That is, indeed, the essential question. And we shall answer it in the words of the Divine Saviour Himself, who knew all men and all things: "If ye continue in my Word," He said, "ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."[8] This, now, is a profound political, as well as moral, lesson. Nothing but a knowledge and practice of truth—Divine and spiritual truth—can possibly fit men for self-government; and nothing else, therefore, can prepare a nation for freedom. A nation, it is to be remembered, is composed of individuals, and the general outward state of a nation is, in fact, only a manifestation of the aggregate inward state of the individuals that compose it. If a nation have not private virtue, it will have no public virtue. If the individuals that compose a people, are generally in a vicious state, the slaves of their own passions, they will soon find themselves in a disordered national condition,—they will soon be slaves politically. Men who are not capable of private self-government, are not fit for public self-government: that truth is very evident. Now, what is it that enables an individual to govern himself and master his own passions? There is but one thing that can do it—and that is the knowledge and practice of truth,—truth spiritual and Divine,—or, what is the same, the truth of God's Word. That is powerful—that is the weapon, and the only one by which a man can master himself! as the Saviour said, "The truth shall make you free." Wherever, then, within the limits of the Christian world, there is found a people, in general unpossessed of, or unbelieving in, the Word of God, it may be set down as certain, that that people will be in political bondage: they cannot be publicly free, because they are not privately free: they are under the mental tyranny of their own passions,—and those tyrants of the mind will presently be seen embodying themselves, as it were, in one or a few individuals, who will exercise a correspondent tyranny over their bodies and estates. Look at the condition of France. There is a people, which, in the last half century or a little longer, has been passing through many different forms of vernment—going from a monarchy to a republic, and then back again to a monarchy; through all these changes seeking for freedom,—but seeking in vain, because they have it not in their own hearts. Vain is it for man to look for freedom without, when he is destitute of it within. This truth they are themselves now beginning to see, and this fact is the most hopeful sign for them that has yet appeared: the first step towards remedying an evil is to be conscious of it. The following extract from an address recently delivered by a French gentleman[9] in London, sets forth the truth above-mentioned in a very striking manner:—

"People abroad are often surprised at the restless spirit of the French nation; seeing the rapidity with which they pass from one government to another, always in motion and never satisfied; and after all their agitation, wars, and revolutions, they remain much the same as before. The reason of it all is, that France has no true religion. There is no ground in my country on which to build civil and religious liberty, and social and political prosperity. I do not believe that any form of government can do us real good, or that there is any politician in the world can do us good, so long as the Gospel has not taken strong hold of us. The Gospel is what we want. Frenchmen cannot understand or practice freedom, because we have not practised submission to God's will."[10]

A wiser sentiment than the foregoing, we venture to say, was never uttered from French lips: there is not a profounder truth in Montesquieu.

Yes! it is the possession and the practice of truth, religious truth, alone, that can make a people free. Whence is it that England and America have their superior freedom, and maintain it so steadily from year to year, and from age to age? It is because in those two countries the Word of God is widely spread, and the institutions of religion are revered and loved. From church and chapel, throughout the land, the truths of God's Holy Word are proclaimed weekly to the people. And in most private homes,—from castle-hall to cottage-fireside,—from the dwellings of the Sovereign and of the President to those of the mechanic and the peasant,—the Holy Bible is daily read; and from the family-circle gathered round it, there ascends, as from a domestic altar, the incense of worship, praise, and prayer, to the Lord on high. And will He desert such a people? will He be wanting to to those who put their trust in Him? Will he suffer foreign foes to invade, or domestic tyrants to enslave, them? No! He will keep them in security and peace, and uphold them in the blessings of civil and religious freedom. They will have nothing to fear, for the Omnipotent is their protector; they will be led in the right way, for the Omniscient is their guide; they will be ruled with the gentlest sway, so long as they thus worship and hold fast to Him, "whose service is perfect freedom," whose "yoke is easy and His burthen light."

To those, then, who are looking with grief and

sympathy on the oppressed state of the nations of continental Europe,—to those who are sighing at the bondage of Poland, of Hungary, of Italy,—and are ready and watching for an opportunity of aiding and delivering them,—to such we would say, "If you desire to succeed, direct your efforts, not so much to the work of setting them free, as of fitting them for freedom:" for, this done, the other will follow of itself. Spread abroad the light of truth; circulate the sacred Book, which is the Fountain of truth, from hand to hand, and from house to house; for the Word of God is the "two-edged sword," before which neither ecclesiastical nor civil tyranny can stand: it is the true textbook of liberty. The sign of greatest promise for Italy is the fact, reported from authentic sources, that in Tuscany alone, there are now 20,000 Bible-readers, where, ten years ago, there were few or none. Let the good work go on:—and it will go on: the power of man cannot prevent it, for the power of God is sustaining it. But still this must necessarily be a work of time, and we must not be impatient. British freedom was a work of time, and the result of numberless efforts and struggles. American freedom—even after inheriting the precious fruit of the labors of their British ancestors—was perfected and fully established only by a weary and bloody seven years' war. Liberty is too precious a boon to be cheaply bought. But the chief work which the continental nations have now to do, is, as before said, not so much to fight, as to arm for the fight—to prepare themselves for the coming combat. And that arming required is not so much a physical, as a mental, arming and training. Store their minds with the weapons of truth from the armory of God's Word. Let their understandings become instructed in the true relations which exist between man and man, and between man and his God. Let their hearts become impressed with the great cardinal truth of the Bible, that man was intended to "love his neighbor as himself," and to "do to others as he would they should do to him"—that great law which lies at the base of all true and happy civil society: let them see and feel this, and begin to practise it, till they become at length imbued with it, and it will fit them for freedom, because they will then be able to be free, without being licentious; they will know how to enjoy their own rights, and at the same time respect the rights of others. It was for want of this great Bible law, that the freedom given by the old French Revolution first degenerated into brutal licentiousness, and then passed over into the most horrible of despotisms. And so would it be with any people, not imbued with the profound precepts of the Divine Word. God, in His wisdom, sees this; and He waits, therefore, till the nations are thus inwardly armed, before He sounds the trumpet for that outward struggle, which is to set them free. Let the minds of the people but become fully imbued with these lofty truths,—and such a flame of righteous indignation would be kindled at usurpation and tyranny, as,—like Elijah's fire descending from heaven on the captain and his band of persecutors[11],—would consume the tyrants and their armies together. The people would not want for arms: they would have the arms that God has given them, stout hearts and strong hands. They would tear their oppressors in pieces. They would shake off their bonds, as Samson, rising in his strength, burst the cords with which his enemies had bound him, "as a thread of tow is broken when it toucheth the fire;" and, like him, they would seize the "jaw-bone of an ass," the first weapon that came to hand, and would smite and sweep their oppressors from the earth. Nothing human can stand before the might of a blazing spirit, struggling in a good cause, and not only willing, but worthy, to be free. Of such, God is the helper; and when God enters the battle, tyrants and their legions, will drop away from before Him, as autumn leaves fall at the sweep of a mighty wind.

POVERTY

When we look over the face of society, and behold, in the midst of civilized and Christian communities, such numbers of human beings sunk in poverty and destitute of the comforts and almost of the necessaries of life, struggling for a bare subsistence, and sometimes actually dying of want,—one is apt to ask, "Can there be a God above, of infinite goodness and wisdom—and power, too—who yet looks on, and suffers such wretchedness to exist, and to continue from year to year and age to age? If He be our Creator, why does he not provide for those whom He has brought into existence? If He be truly our Heavenly Father, why does He not supply the wants of His children?"

To these questions, reflection, aided by knowledge and enlightened by religious principle, will give the true answer,—namely, that the good Creator has provided and does continually provide, for all whom He has created;—that, as a Heavenly Father, He does make ample provision for the support and the comfort of all His children: but that man's own evil continually either misapplies or perverts or destroys the goods so bestowed. The misapplication (or, more properly, mal-distribution) takes place, when one part of mankind selfishly snatch away from another part the portion of goods intended for the latter,—thus taking to itself a double share, and leaving the other none. The perversion takes place, when the goods so received, instead of being properly used and soberly enjoyed, are turned into sources of wretchedness, either by excess and over-indulgence in their use,—or by positive abuse, as when healthful grain is converted into unhealthy and deadly drinks. And, lastly, the destruction takes place, when the good gifts of Providence are caused to perish either by neglect, or by waste, or by absolute destruction with fire and sword, as when the demon of war stalks through the harvest-fields, cutting down and trampling under foot the golden treasures which a bountiful Creator had provided for man's sustenance and enjoyment, and covering with desolation and smoking ruins the face of God's beautiful world. In all of these cases, it is plain to see that the suffering is caused by man, not by God;—and thus is supplied another proof of the great principle, that physical evil is derived from moral evil.

But, to make these points more plain, let us enlarge a little upon some of them. In the first place, let us examine the position, that the good Creator has bountifully provided for the physical wants of His children. Look abroad over the earth: see what riches both cover its surface, and fill its bosom. When God first created man. He placed him in a paradise, representative of the order and beauty that filled his mind, his inner world, while in his yet unfallen state. Here, fruit-trees, laden with their rosy treasures, offered various delicacies to his taste; there, beautiful flowers delighted his sight; while the whole air was filled with delicious fragrances. Birds, too, poured forth their melodies to him among the branches. Every sense was gratified: he had all things needful and delightful. Not till man sinned, was there thorn or thistle or barrenness on the earth. But, even now, though ages of sin have polluted the world, how rich, how beautiful, is still the face of God's creation! Orchards of delicious fruit grow here and there, and may be cultivated to any extent desirable; plains and valleys wave with luxuriant harvests; the very ground is covered with a soft carpet of verdure. If from any special natural cause, there happen to be a deficiency of the earth's produce in any particular region, the defect is ever compensated by extraordinary abundance elsewhere; so that were mankind in that state of universal love and brotherhood, in which their Heavenly Father intended them to be, serious distress could never take place: the wants of one portion would be freely supplied from the plenty of another. This we have seen beautifully exemplified even in our own comparatively evil and selfish age. Some time ago, for instance,—when the vines of Madeira failed, and the people were in danger of suffering from want, Europe and America both sent them assistance; and when the harvests of Europe were thin,—especially when the potato-crop of Ireland had perished,—was it not a pleasant sight to behold their brethren, both in England and America, freely extending their hands in aid? and from the latter, especially, great ships, built for the purposes of war, removing their engines of destruction, and supplying their place with food for their suffering fellow-men,—thus bringing with them life instead of death! Even in that case, however, as in most similar cases, the suffering that was actually and so extensively endured before relief came, may be ascribed in a great degree to the disordered moral state of the inhabitants themselves,—to their indolence or negligence, in allowing themselves to depend on a single article of food, when Providence has bountifully supplied so great a variety.

Look now beneath the surface, into the bosom, of the earth, and note what treasures the good Creator has there laid up for man,—what stores of coal, of iron, of silver and gold, and the other metals. What quantities, in particular, of gold—that precious metal so much coveted, as being essential wealth, though in fact it is but the representative of wealth,—are now daily brought forth from the earth! How profusely has a kind Providence spread it, far and wide, just beneath the surface of the ground, so that man has but to put in his hand and gather the golden harvest, almost as easily as he reaps the crops of grain! Can it be said, then, that the Divine Creator has not supplied wealth in abundance, of every kind?

Why is it, then, that there is so much poverty in the world? For the reason, as already in general terms stated,—that man, in the disordered moral condition into which he has brought himself, does not rightly use the good gifts of Providence, but either misapplies, or perverts, or destroys them.

In the first place, wealth is very unequally distributed, so that while some have a superabundance, others have too little, and others nothing at all. This is, in great part, the direct result of man's selfishness,—that principle which we have all along shown to be the essence and root of all evil. It is true, indeed, that there must necessarily be inequalities in society—higher and lower stations; and this, for the plain reason, that there are higher and lower uses to be performed, superior and inferior offices to be filled. (We have no reference, here, to the artificial ranks existing in some countries, which tend rather to interfere with the natural varieties ordained by the Creator,— sometimes elevating to the highest place one who is best fitted for the lowest,—and again, forcibly keeping down at the bottom a mind intended by nature for the top: but we are speaking of the natural grades in society, founded on differences of use and function.) A body politic, to be complete, must, like a natural body, have head and feet, as well as all the intermediate members. It must have rulers, men of large minds, whose province it is to watch over the general interests of the nation; and it equally needs persons of the humblest faculties, to perform the simplest uses, such as those of the common laborer; and there must be minds of every grade between the two. Now, it is evident, that, together with these differences of function, there must be proportionate inequalities in the amount of wealth needed to sustain these various uses. It is plain that the day-laborer, who has no other expenses than the support of his own humble household, and no other tools to furnish than his pick-axe and spade, does not need as much wealth to sustain him in the discharge of his useful function, as is required by the statesman, who, in the performance of his duties, is expected to entertain foreign ambassadors and other distinguished visitors, and in a manner to sustain the dignity of the nation, by presenting such an appearance as is becoming its public representative. In like manner, all the intermediate grades of function require proportionate degrees of wealth for their support.

Thus, there must plainly be inequalities of wealth in society. This distinction is founded in common sense and in nature. The honey-bee does not need as much food as the ox; nor does the rose-bush receive from the earth as much nourishment as the oak. But, on the other hand, it is to be noted that all receive from nature enough for their respective wants and uses. The bee has his fill, as well as the ox; and the rose receives all that is needed to perfect its beauty, as the oak all to sustain its strength: and, as the Scottish song sweetly says,

"Ilka blade o' grass
Keps its ain drap o' dew."

There is no poverty in nature, and there is no need of poverty with man. The bountiful Creator supplies an abundance for all, and each should receive his proper share—no more and no less: then would all be comfortable and happy together. This is the case with the lower animals, because they are in the order of their nature; and it would be the case also with man, were he in the proper order of his. But man, by the abuse of his moral freedom, has perverted that original order; and consequently, in this as in all other things, his present condition is one of disorder and discomfort. That Self-love, which is at the root of all moral, and consequent physical, disorder, has introduced its disturbing influence here, also, and brought Poverty into the world. Each one, in his selfishness, disregarding his neighbor's happiness and welfare, grasps all he can, whether needing it or not. A diseased lust of hoarding up useless wealth, has planted itself in men's hearts, till it has become, with many, a master passion; to gratify which, they will not only sacrifice their neighbor's comfort, but even their own also,—thus foolishly losing sight of the end in the pursuit of the means, sacrificing happiness itself to attain that which, after all, was only sought for as a supposed means to happiness. They will burden themselves with anxieties, cares, fears, and undergo labor and trouble to any extent, to attain this fancied joy—wealth,—which when attained is found to be but as "sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal," utterly hollow and empty of all true enjoyment. Thus does evil always punish itself. But a further consequence, is, that while the avaricious make themselves no happier, they disturb the whole order of society, and bring multitudes into misery. Where one has too much, others must have too little. Great wealth, in a community, must always be found side by side with great poverty. Neither of these ought to be: both are contrary to the true order of man's existence. And it is hard to tell which is the most hurtful to the soul. Vast wealth tends to increase man's selfishness,—already so deep,—as well as leads to indolence, self-indulgence, luxury, intemperance, hard-hearted worldliness: while, on the other hand, abject poverty tends to bring despair, distrust in a Divine Providence, self-abandonment, low vice, crime. Agur's prayer[12], "Give me neither poverty nor riches" is the truly wise one.

The pursuit of wealth, merely for wealth's sake, may be regarded as the crying evil of this age. Every true man, every Christian, should set his face against this sin. And he should begin by conquering the evil disposition in himself. He should make up his mind, at setting out in life, what is the true object of living in this world. And a little reflection will show him, that merely to get rich is no object worthy of a true man, a being with an immortal soul. Suppose he attain his end, and after twenty years of anxious toil find himself master of a hundred thousand or five hundred thousand pounds—where is the benefit? he may die the next week, and leave all the fruits of his long toils in a moment,—and go creeping into the next world, an empty desolate soul: "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?"[13]

The only end which a wise man will hold up to himself as worthy of his immortal nature, and which every man should keep before himself as the true purpose of life here, is to become fitted for the long life hereafter. This life is for sixty or seventy years,—but that is for seventy millions of years, and an infinity beyond! Which, then, is the more worthy of man's consideration and regard? Yet, as this short life is, so will that long one be: the scale turns here,—and the beam, once down, can never rise again. Each day is making its mark upon us; each month is bending our spirits in one direction or another; each year completes its own volume of record; and, by and by, the last volume and the last page will have been written, and Death will set his great seal on the whole book of life: no word or character can then be altered—no! not to eternity. What an awful thought! And how can a thinking man, then—one who brings this truth before his mind—waste his precious days in the poor employment of laboriously heaping up gold and banknotes beyond what he can use to any proper purpose,—while the sands of his life are running so fast away, and he has done nothing yet towards accomplishing the great purpose of his being?

What, then, it may be asked should a man propose to himself in reference to the matter of wealth? what steps should he take to bring himself—and thus assist in bringing society—into a state of true order in this regard? Is he to abandon his worldly employments and retire into solitude, as the true way to heaven? Not at all: no such thing is needed. We are to be in the world, but not of the world; that is, not conforming ourselves to the world's present selfish and evil ways: "I pray not," said the Saviour, "that thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil."[14] A man may continue his regular business,—provided it be an honest and useful one: but he should not make the acquisition of wealth the end be proposes to himself. To support his family in a proper and moderate manner,—to perform the part of a good citizen,—to aid and serve his neighbor in the thousand ways which daily opportunities offer,—thus, to be forming in his own heart that spirit of kindness and brotherly love, which is heaven in the soul, and at the same time to be setting an example to others, and so helping them to come into the same state:—this is the true end of living, and the true way to live. Thus, all would be advancing on their way to heaven together, and this world would be a happy world; none would be poor, all would be comfortable even here, and at the same time be assuring to themselves eternal comforts, joys and blisses in the world to come.

It is by considerations such as these, acting upon the individual mind, that the world is to be regenerated. This is the only way, in which it can be brought out of its present state of disorder, poverty, and wretchedness. It is quite in vain to think to regenerate society by external means,—by collecting men into artificial groups,—by attempting to destroy the principle of competition, as is sometimes proposed, through the formation of Fourier associations or other external organizations. The demon of Self-love, let in among these societies, will tear them to pieces—as it has repeatedly done: what is the very root and source of this violent competition, but selfishness? It is of little use to seek to change the outward, while the inward remains unchanged, because the outer flows from the inner as the effect from its cause. Is, it not a waste of labour to be clearing out the stream below, while the fountain is continually pouring down muddy waters anew? "Out of the heart are the issues of life:" cleanse that, and all the outer life, whether private or public, will come of itself into order, and society will find itself insensibly reorganized: in the words of a humble but true-speaking Scottish poet,

"When each reforms the world within,
The world without will know no sin."

There is no hope, therefore, for the thorough reformation of the world, except by the slow and gradual process of individual regeneration.[15] The world is made up of individuals; and it is very plain that as is the character of the individuals that compose the world, such will be the character of the world as a whole. That is surely a very shallow philosophy, which presumes man's condition to be the effect of circumstances. Every day we see mind mastering circumstances, changing circumstances, modifying circumstances almost at its pleasure, thus showing itself to be, of the two, the superior and the cause, not the inferior and the effect. Put a man of ability and principle in what circumstances you will, and, with Divine aid, he will carve his way through them to excellence and to dignity; while, on the other hand, one of an opposite character, though placed originally in the most favourable circumstances, will sink down and come to nothing. It is true, indeed, that untoward circumstances may be temporary obstacles to advancement, but they will be only temporary; and, with the energetic, those obstacles, surmounted, will become themselves stepping stones to higher stations and to loftier degrees of excellence. The greater exercise of mental power, called forth in the effort to overcome those obstacles, will in the end be the means of raising the individual to a higher condition than he would otherwise have attained. So has Divine Providence beautifully ordained, that, with those who trust in Him, and keep on in the path of principle and duty, seeming evil shall be turned into higher good,—opposition itself into an aid and support.

Thus man is not the "creature of circumstances," but rather their creator. In the true view, indeed,—God is the Creator of all good and happy circumstances; for He is the sole Author of all good, and it is by His unseen aid and support that the willing are able to overcome obstacles and rise to excellence: remembering this, the just man will be grateful, not proud, at his advancement. That God, too, is the Creator of good and happy circumstances, and of no others, we may see by recurring to the original condition of man, when all outward things were beautiful and delightful, as his inward state was innocent and peaceful. When God had finished the work of creation. He pronounced it "good" and "very good:" there was no evil in existence, without or within. But man, by the abuse of that moral liberty, with which, as man, he was necessarily endowed, perverted his nature, and turned that happy love of others with which he had been originally gifted, and by the possession of which he was an image of his Maker—into self-love. Hence evil and consequent unhappiness began to exist; and from this source, also, came that perversion of outward things (called circumstances), which now so generally exists in the world. Thus man himself is the creator of all evil and perverse circumstances: how unjust then to reproach God for it! If, for instance, our cities are filled with narrow streets or lanes, into which the light and air of heaven can scarce enter, whose fault is it? Says Cowper,

"God made the country, but man made the town."

Is it not from man's own evil that such things exist? In some instances, as in the case of walled towns, this evil has arisen from the necessity of crowding the inhabitants into as small a space as possible, in order to lessen the extent of the walls to be defended. But what made walls necessary? Nothing but men's hostility to each other, which all springs from selfishness and evil of heart. Here we see a host of disorderly circumstances,—bad ventilation, consequent unhealthiness, and numerous other physical and moral disadvantages resulting from the too narrow accommodation of a city population—all the direct effect of moral evil. Who made these circumstances? not God, but man. So, in cities where there are not walls, the existence of similar localities is the consequence of selfishness in the form of avarice. Although the good Creator has provided a plentiful extent of ground and room for all useful purposes, yet man, in his spirit of avarice, and in order to increase his gain,—to make what he terms the most of his ground,—crowds the dwelling-houses into the smallest possible space, and fills them with narrow, close apartments, into which disease enters together with the inhabitants, and a physical and moral pestilence spreads through the community. Is not this, again, the direct consequence of moral evil on the part of man? Is it God's doing, or is it man's?

So, in all other cases. It is man's own evil of heart, that has produced, directly or indirectly, that disordered outward condition of things, which we call "bad circumstances." How unjust then, is it for a Byron or a Shelley, or other complainer of "this bad world," to charge the good Creator with a condition of things which is all manifestly of man's own producing! Let such misanthropists look into their own hearts, and cast out the evil dwelling there, and they would then find themselves looking at the outward world with new eyes. They would at once perceive and acknowledge, that the present disordered state of things in civilized society, is the natural result of man's selfishness and evil of heart, operating in a thousand different ways for ages past. They would not charge the evil upon the God above, but place it, where it belongs, at man's door. Neither would they fall into a state of desperation about it. Having full belief in the boundless power, as well as infinite goodness and wisdom, of the Lord, and perceiving that nothing is needed for the operation of these but man's cooperation and receptive will,—they would see that there was a way out of this labyrinth, if they would but use the clue which God Himself has given; they would see that there are means by which the world may be reformed, both outwardly and inwardly, if man will but make use of them. That clue is given—those means are pointed out—in the revealed Word: "Look unto me," saith the Lord, "and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth."—"Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes. Cease to do evil: learn to do well. Seek judgment; relieve the oppressed; judge the fatherless, plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land."[16] Here the remedy is clearly pointed out. Let men, with one accord, but take these words to heart, and apply them to their lives and conduct, and a change would soon appear over the face of the world. First, let men look up to the Lord their Saviour, and believe in Him; this would open the mind to all heavenly influences, and introduce a power into man's heart, which would enable him to prevail over his own evil passions and selfish desires. Then, in the next place, let him, under the guidance and support of this Divine influence, seek to bring into life and action the command above given. Let him, first, "cease to do evil." And remembering that essential evil is selfishness, self-love,—and that essential good is love to others, let him strive to love his neighbor as himself, that is, "to do unto others, as he would they should do to him," which, together with love to God, is declared to be "the whole law and the prophets."[17] Doing thus, he would begin at once to change the course of his life—not in general, merely, but in particular,—not in great things only, but in little things. For instance, those "well off" in the world, would cease to press on anxiously for greater riches. They would say to themselves, "I have enough—I am comfortable—what need I more? As to my children,—I do not mean to lay up fortunes for them: that is contrary to Divine order, and will be an injury to them rather than a benefit: let them work up to prosperity, as I did. Let me rather do good with that with which God has blessed me, and aid my less prosperous fellow-men to be comfortable and happy, too." And how is he to do this? In a thousand different ways. It is not even necessary for him to leave his business, and "retire," as it is termed: there is no wisdom in that retiring: God made us to be active and useful as long as we live in this world,—ay, and for ever after. But while his regular business goes on, he can make that very business a means of giving employment and aid to hundreds: every such man can do this, if he has the disposition. And let him begin, by being just and liberal to those he employs; paying good ample wages—remembering that "the laborer is worthy of his hire." You may see men, every day, even well intentioned men, who talk much about "this wicked world" and grieve over the sad state of mankind, who unconsciously are doing much to keep up this very evil state of things, by their hardness and injustice to their own workmen. Let such think more of the toiling wife and little mouths which those workmen have at home to feed,—and let them make their hearts glad by good and liberal wages, and perhaps an occasional present to the faithful and industrious. Thus will they be just before they are generous. In fact, the truest way to be benevolent, is simply to be just and upright—to do to others in every case, and in all matters, as we would have them to do to us if we were in their place and they in ours. This principle alone, if carried fully out, would reform the world.

This, then, is to "seek judgment" and to "relieve the oppressed." Then, having been first just, and thoughtful of their neighbour's rights,—soon, generosity, or considerateness for their neighbour's distresses and wants, would follow of itself: for the door of heavenly influences once opened into the heart by "doing justly,"—the "loving mercy" would come quietly in unobserved, and the man would feel himself disposed to be kind and tender-hearted, ere he was aware. So that when an occasional opportunity was presented to "judge the fatherless and plead for the widow," he would soon find his words uttered, and his purse opened, too, in their behalf.

Another way, in which the rich, and those in middle circumstances—and all, indeed—can do something, and much, to relieve poverty,—is simply to be willing and to resolve to pay a fair and remunerating price for everything they buy. Now this will require more self-denial than would be at first supposed. We naturally wish to buy things "cheap," forgetting that in the simple indulgence of that selfish wish, we are injuring and distressing thousands. What is it that causes the sad "Song of the Shirt"[18] to be heard at the lonely midnight hour, where yon dim taper burns? Stitch—stitch—stitch—the poor woman labors on, till the morning light appears,—all to get a few pence to procure the day's bread for her wretched self or her starving children. Who is it that causes this wretchedness? It is not the fault alone of her hard employer. It is the fault, also, of the equally hard-hearted and selfish purchaser, who grinds down the seller to the lowest possible price, and thus in a manner compels him to have his work done as cheaply as possible, in order to make a living for himself, and to be able to compete with his fellow-tradesmen. The evil begins with the selfish public, and with the selfish individuals of whom the public is composed. But let every man—every Christian man and woman—let every person of principle and benevolence and common justice—set their face against this wrong,—and a great change would follow, and the comfort and happiness of thousands be increased. Let every just-minded person resolve to avoid and discountenance "bargain" shops and "cheap" shops, and shops that profess to sell "below cost,"—regarding them as the "mansions of cruelty,"—as the places where souls and bodies are used up, and where blood and sinews are disposed of by weight and measure. Make up your mind to pay a fair and remunerative price for every article you purchase; and if you cannot afford to do that—go without. That is the Christian rule: and the man or woman who will not exercise sufficient self-denial to do that, is not entitled, we conceive, to the character of being religious, or benevolent, or even honorable and just.

It is in these little ways, that society is to be reformed; it is by these private individual actions, chiefly, that the public good is to be attained, and poverty and wretchedness to be banished from the world. Littles compounded make up the whole—minutes repeated make the year. There is no doubt, indeed, that when the spirit of Christian justice and benevolence has thus once taken root in the heart, and has begun to put itself forth in these private ways,—then, also, men may, in their kindness of feeling, assemble together, and devise plans of united action for the general good. This will naturally follow. Societies for various benevolent objects will be formed: and at length even the legislative power will be reached, and public enactments will be passed for the relief of distress, and for the increase of the general comfort and welfare. But these things will be last, not first. Indeed, to be truly beneficial, legislative enactments will in general employ themselves rather in removing obstructions to the operation of principles of justice and benevolence existing in individual minds, and to the free circulation of worldly goods through the commuity, than in direct acts of benevolence. For instance, the abolition of such unjust institutions (existing in some countries) as the laws oi primogeniture and entail, affords an opportunity of this kind. Here human pride and selfishness has stepped in between the riches which God has given, and the whole mass of His children for whom they are intended, and seeks to confine these comforts to a few, while the many are left to suffer from want. This is manifestly unjust, and the permission of it is unworthy of a Christian legislature. As to "primogeniture," all children, plainly, should be regarded alike in the eye of the law, as they are in the eyes of every good parent: God regards all His children alike. Where is the justice of one inheriting all the father's property, because he happen to come first into the world, while the others are left to envy and to poverty? And as to the laws of "entail,"—all property should be left free to circulate through the community, and find, like water, its own level: so will the wants of each and all be supplied. Enactments, too, should be made for the support of education, universal education. What immense sums are yearly raised for poor-houses and jails! The same, spent on schools, would educate probably all the children in the land, and save in great part the need of the former. And why stop to quarrel about creeds, in connection with popular education? There is a time for everything. Six days, we are commanded to do our worldly work, and the seventh to devote to the worship of the Lord. In the week-day schools, the object should be, chiefly, to instruct children in the means of doing their work and business in the world—to teach them to read, to write, to keep accounts,—to teach them geography, history, and other useful natural knowledges.[19] There is one day, a separate day, especially given for the purpose of religious instruction,—when the children, at Sunday-Schools, or by their parents at home, or in both ways, should be regularly and carefully taught the truths and commandments of the Holy Word. The two classes of duties are distinct, and they need not, and should not, interfere with each other. And when the cause of education is allowed altogether to stand still, and the children of the land to grow up uneducated, while the contest is raging as to what creed to educate them in,—we may be sure that the Divine Being cannot be pleased with such a course: for under the appearance of seeking His glory, we are neglecting His commands.

Yes! let every child in the land be educated. Thus will means be put into their hands for working their way through the world, and keeping themselves above the distresses of poverty. And if, at the same time, careful religious instruction be provided for them on the Lord's day, they will learn to avoid those sins of intemperance and other forms of evil indulgence, which lead to poverty and to crime. Thus, little by little, will society be reformed: the poor will be elevated, the rich will let themselves down ifrom their cold heights of pride,—and men will learn to meet each other on a common plane as brothers, and to travel on together in comfort and peace towards the "land of the blest"—their common home in eternity. So will men accomplish the great purpose of their being; so will they use this world and this life for the great and chief end for which it was given,—as a place of preparation for the next world and the life to come: so will mankind be happy even here, while preparing to be happier still hereafter; and all "shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."

  1. "My heart is broken," writes Wellington, after the battle of Waterloo, "by the terrible loss I have sustained in my own friends and companions, and in my poor soldiers. Believe me,—nothing, except a battle lost, can be half so melancholy as a battle won."
  2. John viii. 44.
  3. John ii. 14, 15.
  4. Those who wish to see this ground for the permission of evil, fully illustrated, we would refer to Swedenborg's profound treatise on Divine Providence.
  5. This passage was written previously to the late war between England, France, and Russia,—when there had been nearly forty years of peace.
  6. Two persons, man and wife, imprisoned in Tuscany, on the charge of having in their possession the Protestant Bible, and of attempting to make proselytes to the Protestant faith.—They have since been released.
  7. "History," says Roscoe, "proves, that from the assassination of Cæsar, followed by the line of despotic Cæsars—to that of Marat by Charlotte Corday, followed by the Reign of Terror,—such crimes have never produced the effects aimed at, but rather riveted the system, which, supposed to be bound up in the life of an individual, men weakly fancied would have died with him. Providence has manifestly cursed such means for effecting political regeneration."—Life of Lorenzo de Medici.
  8. John. viii. 31, 32.
  9. M. Leon Pilatte.
  10. A similar view was expressed by M. Guizot, in an address at the annual meeting, held in May, 1863, for the encouragement of Primary Instruction among Protestants in France. "His speech," says the reporter, "was a warm exhortation to a religious life, as the only hope of salvation for France: and in his elucidation of this theme, he by no means insisted that Protestantism, his own religion, was exclusively in his view."
  11. See 2 Kings i. 9—12.
  12. Proverbs. xxx. 8, 9.
  13. Luke xii. 20.
  14. John xvii. 15.
  15. "To reform a world, to reform a nation," says Carlyle, "no wise man would undertake; all but foolish men know that the only solid, though far slower reformation, is what each begins and perfects in himself."—"Instead of mending the world, (the mania of the present day,)" remarks the admirable authoress of Woman's Mission, "the best service we can do that world is to mend ourselves. As the old English adage says, 'If each mends one, all will be mended.'"
  16. Isaiah xlv. 22; 1. 16—19.
  17. Matthew vii 12.
  18. See Hood's Song of the Shirt. So much was this touching poem prized by the author himself, that he is said, at his death, to have requested these words to be inscribed on his tomb: "He sang the Song of the Shirt."
  19. In the public schools of New England, and, we believe, of most of the United States, the Bible is used, but the law requires it to be "without note or comment." A chapter is simply read in the morning, either by the teacher alone or by the teacher and scholars together, as a part of morning worship. This course, as tending to inculcate a reverence for religious things and for the Holy Scriptures, and yet as being non-sectarian, is found to give general satisfaction.