CHAPTER XXVII. 



I NEVER read Hume on miracles ; I did not need 

 to do so ; but I have always thought that the man 

 must be very difficult to please who could not be 

 thoroughly satisfied with the one the unutterably 

 great one the miracle of the universe : made up, 

 indeed, of millions of other miracles of its compo- 

 nent parts, which w r ill for ever excite the astonish- 

 ment of reasoning creatures, and draw forth their 

 adoration to the Great Author of the whole, as long 

 as it shall please Him to gift them with the power 

 to do so. 



Those who think for themselves, and can believe 

 in one God, and reverence, adore, and worship Him, 

 must ever feel disgusted to dwell on the endless 

 modes of faith with which mankind have been 

 pestered and stultified for ages past, and also feel 

 grieved to think upon the evils the persecutions 

 the wars and the miseries, these have from time 

 to time inflicted upon the half-civilised world. 

 Brother has been set in enmity against brother, 

 neighbour against neighbour, and nation against 

 nation, fully charged with vengeance to destroy 

 each other, and by which rivers of blood have been 

 spilt. Jesus Christ, I believe, never said one word 

 that could be construed into any such meaning, or 

 to countenance any such doings ; neither did any 

 man possessed of the spirit of the Christian religion 

 and its attendant humanity ever view all this other- 

 wise than with horror. 



