60 



Thus do these modem Epicureans reason^ and the language 1 

 have quoted is not that of professed atheists, but of many honest 

 people who are proud of the name of Christians. In fact, there 

 are but few of us who have not occasionally been troubled by 

 such thoughts as these. ^Yhich of us has not at some time or 

 other asked himself, Is it possible the attention of the Most 

 High can be directed to me? AThat is man that Thou art 

 mindful of him ? How often has not the magnificent spectacle 

 of the world inspired us with a vague feeling of terror, when we 

 contrast its infinite grandeur with our own nothingness? 



Can it be true,, we say^ that in this immensity of creation, in 

 which our globe is as a speck of dust, that in this little ant-hill 

 we call our world, among these millions who each minute are 

 born and die, each has its mission, its part to play, its account 

 to give ? Is it true that our race has the importance we our- 

 selves attribute to it, and that God can condescend to notice 

 the innumerable incidents which chequer our little life with 

 light and shade ? Is mv prayer heard, — are my wants known 

 of God? 



Another thing which eflPaces from the minds of many the idea 

 of God^s intervention in the world's affairs is its present con- 

 dition, to which Christians say it has been reduced by sin, and from 

 which we believe it will finally emerge by the destruction of sin. 



How difficult is it to discover any trace of a Providential plan 

 in history ? 



How can we see any design amid the dark confusion of 

 events? How can we find the key to the moral problems they 

 raise? What mean so many miserable failures ; what was the 

 purpose served by so many vanished civilizations? 



It is no doubt easy enough for a man of optimist temperament 

 to explain all these things superficially, and write a philosophy 

 of history in a few chapters, and declare he sees clearly through 

 that which to others is a darkness that may be felt; but all 

 cannot thus easily console themselves,— all cannot hail as rising 

 day-stars the iynes fatui of imagination. For thorn the history 

 of humanity, with its gigantic crimes^ the ceaseless sufferings 

 of millions of beings who, far beyond our bounded ken, pursue 

 their mysterious destiny, — all this is a dark problem which 

 troubles them, and often makes their heart to bleed. It may 

 be said all these troubles belong only to cultivated minds. I 

 do not think so. I believe that beneath another form they 

 harass and perplex the most ignorant and rude. Can we not 

 epitomise in each existence the questions which torment us in 

 the history of nations? Triumphant injustice ! successful fraud! 

 seemingly useless suffering! unforeseen strokes of death! are 

 these not questions which^ in the dark and solemn hour of our 



