nd supposed them to
revolve around the earth, undertook to point out and declaim against the
miserable defects which he saw, or fancied he saw, in the system of the
material world. That is to say, he undertook to criticise and find fault
with the great volume of nature, before he had even learned its alphabet.
The objections of Lucretius, which appeared so formidable in his day, as
well as many others that have since been raised on equally plausible
grounds, have passed away before the progress of science, and now seem
like the silly prattle of children, or the insane babble of madmen. But
although such difficulties have been swept away, and our field of vision
cleared of all that is painful and perplexing, nay, brightened with all
that is grand and beautiful, we seem to be farther than ever from
comprehending the whole of the case--from grasping the amazing extent and
glory of the material globe. And why may not this ultimately be the case
also in relation to the moral universe? Why should every attempt to clear
up its difficulties, and blow away the objections of atheism to its order
and beauty, be supposed to originate in presumption and to terminate in
impiety? Are we so much the less interested in knowing the ways of God in
regard to the constitution and government of the moral world than of the
material, that he should purposely conceal the former from us, while he
has permitted the latter to be laid open so as to ravish our minds? We can
believe no such thing; and we are not willing to admit that there is any
part of the creation of God in which omniscience alone can cope with the
atheist.

Section V.

The construction of a Theodicy, not an attempt to solve mysteries, but to
dissipate absurdities.

As we have merely undertaken to refute the atheist, and vindicate the
glory of the divine perfections, so it would be a grievous mistake to
suppose, that we are about to pry into the holy mysteries of religion. No
sound mind is ever perplexed by the contemplation of mysteries. Indeed,
they are a source of positive satisfaction and delight. If nothing were
dark,--if all around us, and above us, were clearly seen,--the truth itself
would soon appear stale and mean. Everything truly great must transcend
the powers of the human mind; and hence, if nothing were mysterious, there
would be nothing worthy of our veneration and worship. It is mystery,
indeed, which lends such unspeaka