our bosom as a punishment
for sin, but, as Bishop Butler has shown,(188) it was ordained by a God of
mercy, to teach us a lesson of mercy, and lead us to mitigate the manifold
miseries of man's estate. We might also refer to an indignation against
crime, which, as the same profound thinker has shown in his sermon on
resentment, was planted in our natures, not to punish the subject of it,
but to insure the punishment of others, that is, of criminals; and thereby
to preserve the good order and well-being of the world. This sense of
wrong, of injustice, of outrage, by which the soul is so often tortured,
is not designed to punish the subject of it, but to promote the happiness
and virtue of mankind. We might refer to these, and many other things of
the same kind, but it is not necessary to dwell upon particular instances;
for the principle against which we contend may be more directly refuted by
an appeal to reason, and to the very authors by whom it is advocated; for,
although it is adopted by them, and seems plausible at first view, it is
often lost sight of when they lose sight of their system, and they give
utterance to another principle more in accordance with the voice of
nature.

It is evident, that if the government of God requires that no suffering
should be inflicted, except as a punishment for sin, then his perfect
moral government requires that the punishment should, in all cases, be
exactly proportioned to the demerit of those upon whom it falls.

For, as Butler truly says, "Moral government consists in rewarding the
righteous and punishing the wicked; in rendering to men according to their
actions, considered as good or evil. And the perfection of moral
government consists in doing this, with regard to all intelligent
creatures, in exact proportion to their personal merits and
demerits."(189) This will not be denied. Hence, if suffering is
distributed by God as a punishment for sin in all cases, as Calvin and his
followers assert, then it must, on the same principle, be distributed
according to the demerit of men. But is this the case? Does this necessary
consequence of this principle agree with fact? If so, then every vile
deed, every wicked outrage, committed by man, should be regarded as an
instrument of divine justice, and deserved by those upon whom they fall.
The inquisition itself, with all its unuttered and unutterable horrors,
should be regarded, not merely as an exhibition of human wickedness and
w