voluntarily -- either ignorantly or knowingly violated the physi cal laws of their nature. If they have done it ignorantly, they cannot escape the consequences; if knowingly, they have incurred a penalty which they ought to suffer, and will suffer, so long as they continue to violate those laws. But, it may be, they are not what they profess to be - virtuous men. Even if their outward conduct is moral, they may perform all their good deeds from bad motives; and, in that case, are not entitled to any reward, nor will they receive any. The truth is, a man may cultivate the moral faculties ever so much, and live in the strictest conformity to God's moral law; yet, if he disregards the laws of health, eats too much, drinks too much, sleeps too much, exercises too little or too much, exposes himself unnecessarily or necessarily, or eats, drinks, and sleeps too little, he cannot escape the consequences. The fact of his obeying the moral laws will not exempt him from the penalty of violating the laws of his physical constitution. As a moral being, he may experience that happiness which flows from the exercise and cultivation of his moral faculties. As a physical being, he may, at the same time, suffer pain, sickness and disease, as a necessary consequence of neglect or violation of the physical laws. But in no case, if the man is truly a virtuous man, can you rob him of virtue's reward. He may meet with misfortunes. His riches may "take to themselves wings and fly away." Friends may desert him. He may be persecuted. He may be incarcerated in prison, or confined within the gloomy walls of the dungeon. He may be suspended on the gallows, tied to the stake, and around him may be gathered the fagot and the flame. But, "amid the war of elements, the wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds," he will be unmoved. He walks forth in all the "conscious dignity of independent virtue." In prosperity he rejoices; in adversity he is resigned. He loves virtue for its own intrinsic value; practises it because he loves it, and for its present reward. His soul is stayed on God; for he knows that God is on the side of virtue. In life, and in death, he feels and experiences the "soul's calm sunshine and the heartfelt joy which is virtue's prize."

and

2. It is objected "that the wicked are frequently prosperous and happy in this life." That the wicked may be prosperous happy, in one sense, is undoubtedly true. That is, it may be true of the merely immoral man. But that they are ever prosperous

and happy in the sense that the virtuous are, or in the highest sense of those terms, we deny. But the objector says "he is acquainted with a number of wicked men, who evidently enjoy themselves as well as any people on earth." Hold, my dear sir. Are you sure of this? Appearances are often deceptive. We frequently see our fellow-creatures placed in circumstances which we judge to be favorable, and conclude they must be happy; but, on becoming acquainted with the facts, we learn they are not. Indeed, sometimes men appear to be happy, and act happy, when they are not. Paganini, of Paris, in France, was a celebrated wit, musician and theatrical performer. He was one of the most jocose and humorsome of men. He was thought to be the most happy of men. He was considered a very amusing companion, and his company was sought for by all. One day Paganini went to a celebrated physician of Paris, and. without informing him who he was, complained of habitual melancholy. "Have you been long troubled with it?" asked the physi cian. "Yes, for a number of years." "Does it give you much trouble?" 66 Yes, it destroys all my peace. It troubles me by night and by day; and I have frequently been more than half inclined to destroy myself." "I advise you," said the physician, "to find the company of Paganini, and keep it: he will cure you of your melancholy." "Alas!" cried the unhappy man, “I am that very Paganini."* Tiberius was a Roman emperor. He had abundance of wealth, was enthroned in power, and enjoyed every means of gratifying his sensual appetites to the very full. He was placed in circumstances which, by the mass of mankind, would be judged favorable to produce happiness. But was Tiberius happy? The following letter, written by him to the Roman Senate, shows that he was not: "What to write, conscript fathers, in what terms to express myself, or what to refrain from writing, is a matter of such perplexity, that if I know how to decide may the just gods and goddesses of vengeance doom me to die in pangs worse than those under which I linger every day." On this, Tacitus makes the following remarks: "We have here the features of the inward His crimes retaliated upon him with the keenest retribution ; so true is the saying of the great philosopher, the oracle of ancient

man.

* This story is quoted from memory. We may be mistaken in the name, but are certain we are not in the fact.

wisdom (Socrates), that, if the minds of tyrants were laid open to our view, we should see them gashed and mangled with the whips and stings of horror and remorse. By blows and stripes the flesh is made to quiver; and, in like manner, cruelty and inordinatc passions, malice and evil deeds, become internal executioners, and, with unceasing torture, goad and lacerate the heart. Of this truth Tiberius is a melancholy instance. Neither the imperial dignity, nor the gloom of solitude, nor the rocks of Caprea, could shield him from himself. He lived on the rack of guilt, and his wounded spirit groaned in agony." How many thousands and millions of cases of the same kind there have been, and are now! And it is to be feared that, in consequence of human folly, there will be thousands and millions more. When, therefore, we see the wicked apparently happy, we ought to remember that their happiness may be in appearance only, and not in reality. But again. It may be that those whom the objector esteems to be so wicked, and who he thinks are so happy, are not so wicked as he supposes, after all. Under a very rough exterior many a man carries the very best of hearts; and under the cloak of religion, yea, under the very "livery of the court of heaven," many a man carries a heart of the most consummate knavery, hypocrisy and deception. But we have said that the wicked, ¿. e., the merely immoral man, may be happy. But in what sense may he be happy? By the merely immoral man, we mean one who is destitute of moral principles, and neglects to cultivate the moral faculties. Such men there have been, and such men there are, who, notwithstanding their utter destitution of moral principle, yet yield the strictest obedience to the physical laws. In such cases, you will see in them the stout, muscular, athletic and robust frame, a fine flow of health and spirits, and perhaps they may be lively, cheerful, and, in a certain sense, happy. And why should they not be? They have obeyed those laws upon the observance of which hangs suspended our physical enjoyment; and why should they not receive their reward? But what kind of happiness is it which they enjoy? we ask again. Is it that high and holy kind enjoyed by the righteous? No. They know nothing of the satisfaction which is derived from the consciousness of having done our duty. They are strangers to the happiness which flows from the exercise of the moral faculties. They experience none of the rewards of virtue, for they do not practise virtue

The enjoyment, therefore, is merely of a sensual, earthly, animal kind. They enjoy themselves in the same manner as do the brutes; in the same manner as does the horse, the ox, or the swine. Reader, is this the greatest good of life? Is this the highest happiness allotted to human beings? We tell you, nay. And, if you think it is, we tell you, you have made a sad and most fatal mistake, which, sooner or later, and before you leave this earthly clime, you will learn to your sorrow.

But some will say, perhaps, "We know the doctrine of retribution in this life is not true, for we have practised virtue, and have received no reward." If you have received no reward, it must be for some of the following reasons. Either you are not what you profess to be, or you have made a false estimate of what constitutes virtue; or you practise it from wrong motives; or, in looking for an imaginary reward in a future world, you have overlooked the real one, and trampled it under your feet. If it is for either of these reasons, your case forms no objection to our theory. You receive no reward, for the reason that you do not deserve any.

3. Another objection is, "The theory of retribution in this life is of bad moral tendency." Of bad moral tendency! Why? How? "O!" it is said, "this theory makes all reward and punishment limited, and confines both to this world. Consequently, the inducements presented to the mind of man, for him to practise virtue and refrain from vice, are not great enough." Man," it is said, "is greatly influenced by appeals to his hopes and fears. Hence, the greater the reward promised, and punishment threatened, the greater the influence.”

This theory, then, "makes all reward and punishment limited." Well, suppose it does. Is not man a finite being? Is he not exceedingly limited in all his capacities, capabilities, and powers? Is he not a frail child of humanity, and extremely liable to err? No man can dispute that he is. Should he not, then, be the subject of limited rewards and punishments? How absurd to suppose the contrary! The very fact, then, on which this objection is based, that this theory makes rewards and punishments limited, is a strong confirmation of its truth. But, "it confines rewards and punishments to this world." Very well. Where does man do his deeds of virtue and vice? Is it not in this world? Most certainly it is. Well, what time and place more suitable to reward and punish him,

than at the time when, and in the place where, he deserves it? But, "the inducements are not sufficient." Are not? But do men love their wives, parents, brothers, sisters, or children, because they expect to be rewarded for it in another world? Or do they refrain from hating them for fear of being punished in another world if they do? If such be the fact, then our sentiments of respect for human nature must sink into nothing; and all men may exclaim with Brutus: "O virtue, I have worshipped you as a god, but have found thou art but an empty name!" Again, does the farmer labor and toil to cultivate his farm, sow his seed, and gather his crops, thinking that he will be rewarded for it in eternity? Does the mechanic pursue his daily avocation for the sake of any other reward than that which he receives here? Will a man per

more.

form a day's labor with any more faithfulness or cheerfulness, under the promise of a reward however great in eternity, than he will under the promise of a dollar at the close of his day's labor? Once Do the wicked practise sin in this world with the expectation of being rewarded for it in another? No. All these are actuated solely and simply by present motives. If, then, the wicked can be induced to practise sin for the sake of the pleasure which they imagine is connected therewith in this life, cannot the virtuous be induced to practise virtue for the sake of that happiness which is the certain and sure reward of it here? But suppose those whom we denominate the virtuous are actuated by the motives which the objector would present, are they worthy of the appellation, virtuous, which we bestow upon them? Suppose you see a man administer to the wants and necessities of his fellow-men. You ask him why he does it. He replies: "For the sake of obtaining heaven." You ask him if he has no sympathies for human kind; no benevolence of heart; no humanity to man. And he tells you "no, he is actuated by higher motives than these, his object is to secure his own happiness in the paradise above." What would you think of such a warm-hearted philanthropist as this? Or, suppose you see a man tempted to do evil, to steal, rob, or murder, as the case may be, but he resists. You ask him why he did not commit the act. He replies: "I most certainly should have done it, had I not been afraid of going to hell if I did." What would you think of a man of such strong virtuous principle as this? Would you think either of these characters meritorious, or deserving of any reward what