a very affectionate mind is necessarily a source of disquietude, in consequence of the condi tion upon which every human connection is formed, that it must one day be dissolved by a sure, but doubtful, period of mortality. Even the pleasures of science are purchased by much anxious labour, and often at the expence of health, or at least of that gaiety of spirit which is the source of the highest pleasure. In short, it seems very clear that we never were intended to enjoy any high degree of happiness in this world; and that if life were only valuable on account of the pleasures it bestows, a wise man, who had balanced well its pains and its joys, would be so far from regarding it as a state of existence contrived to produce felicity, that he would scarcely account it a gift worth accepting.

The idea, however, that the world was formed merely for the purpose of bestowing happiness upon man, its noblest inhabitant, is very ancient, and has been very generally received. It is highly flattering to human vanity, and presents the character of the Maker of the universe in the point of view in which we are most willing to consider it. But this most important ob jection to it was very early perceived: How comes it to pass, that pain and misery have found their way into a world that was contrived for no other purpose than that of conferring

happiness? This question, concerning the ori gin of physical evil, or of suffering, has in all ages perplexed mankind*. It becomes more puzzling, when it is recollected that enjoyments and sufferings are not conferred according to any rules of justice; for the best men are often extremely unfortunate, and even unhappy. To get quit of this difficulty, the ancient Persians asserted that there are two gods, the one good, and the other evil; that the good being created man, and wishes to render him happy, but that he is not able to protect us entirely against the efforts of the evil being. The story among the Greeks, of the box of Pandora, from which, when it was opened, all the evils which now exist flew out, is a contrivance of the same kind; and our European ancestors very sagely ascribed all the mischief that occurred in their times to the Devil, and his associates the witches.

But the mode in which men have most generally attempted to reconcile the existence of physical evil, or suffering in the world, with the supposed purpose of its creation, is this: They have added a second supposition to the first. They confess that, by some cross accident, the Author of Nature has not succeeded in His benevolent plan of producing happiness in this

* See Appendix at the end of this Chapter.

world; but they allege that He will certainly produce another world, or a future state of existence, after this shall have terminated, in which every error will be rectified; those who now are the disturbers of human happiness will be punished, and the rest will enjoy perfect felicity.

It must be obvious, however, that this account of matters is very unsatisfactory. We know the Author of Nature only from His works; and if He has not succeeded in the plan upon which He formed this world, it is evident that He may fail in the plan of making a better world.

But, on the contrary, if we consider this world as formed, not to confer felicity, but to train up beings to intellectual energy and excellence, every difficulty vanishes; the propriety of our situation becomes obvious; and the works of the Author of Nature appear complete and perfect. Considered in this point of view, care and toil are no evils, as they are justly numbered among the best means of moral improvement. The cold and the sterility of the polar regions, the burning heat of the tropical sun, the dry desart, the rugged mountain, and the devouring ocean, are valuable engines for calling forth the intrepidity, the perseverance, the skill, the foresight, and all the best energies of the human mind. The severities of a long and barren winter compel us to study the course of the seasons,

and give rise to all the arts connected with subsistence or accommodation. Poisonous plants teach us caution, and afford the best materials of the healing art. The fierceness of wild beasts, the fury of war or of pestilence, and all the evils that befal humanity, are only so many proofs that the Author of our nature prefers our intellectual improvement to our happiness.

The whole error upon the subject appears to have arisen from mistaking the means which Nature employs for the ends or purposes which she designs to accomplish. In every work of art, the end or object which the artist has in view is distinguished by its superior permanence and stability from the temporary means which he uses for its production. When the house is finished, and the scaffolding taken down, we can easily perceive that the scaffolding was erected for the house, and not the house for the scaffolding. The pain of hunger or thirst, and the pleasure of eating and drinking, are both at an end as soon as we have gratified those appetites; but the health and vigour which arise from proper nourishment remain. Hence à rational being can easily perceive that hunger is not given for our torment, nor is the pleasure of eating bestowed as a source of happiness: They are only given as the means of preserving our constitution in a sound state. The same rule obtains with regard to all our enjoyments. We

are led to exertion by the hope of pleasure; but the pleasure we receive terminates with the exertion, although the improvement which it produces remains and is permanent. For, in all human efforts, whether speculative or active, two things take place; a certain degree of contrivance and of vigour is exerted, and a certain degree of pleasure or of uneasiness is felt. If the effort is frequently repeated, we learn to perform it with greater ease; if it is a bodily effort of a moderate kind, our strength is increased in consequence of it; and if it is an effort of thought, the frequent repetition of it augments our ingenuity and vigour of mind. The case is directly the reverse with regard to the pleasure or the pain which our exertions produce. Activity is usually pleasing; but every repetition of a particular exertion diminishes the pleasure or the pain which it originally produced, till at last they are scarcely, if at all, perceived. Thus our exertions produce pleasure, but a pleasure which is continually diminishing; and at the same time they produce improvement, but an improvement which is continually increasing.

We ought to regard the Contriver of our constitution, therefore, neither as a malevolent being who has devised a system of misery, nor as a being who wishes to produce mere pleasure or felicity for its own sake; but as a skilful artist, who delights in the diffusion of mind through