is most fearfully shown in the refusal of a friendly act and of parental attention, because after our brother had given up the ministry of Partialism and preached Universalism, his former friends came forth, of their own accord, to certify to the spotless integrity of his character, in reply to some injurious reports from that class who try to help their cause by slandering the man who opposes them. Read the following and see a specimen of the social discomforts that so frequently make it a martyrdom to profess Universalism. Here is the extract; the writer speaks of the bereaved husband:

"It is sad to look in upon his family, and think how much is taken from them by the removal of that sweet mother and true companion. I never saw such a smile as would play upon her features when she was engaged in conversation. It was not artificial-it was her very soul looking out upon you. The poor woman was probably hurried to her grave by the coldness of some of her relatives. Her husband, in his embarrassments, appealed to his sister for help-for the loan of $100, but was refused, though she is worth $6000, and her husband $50,000. Then her own orthodox father came on from Maine, but did not call upon her! This completely overcame her. And these things made her disease incurable, in the judgment of some, and I am satisfied that her peace was destroyed, if not her life, by the cruelty of kindred."

TOO BAD TO BE TRUE.

THE remark is not unfrequently made in reference to Universalism, that it is too good to be true. It so answers all the deep yearnings of our best affections, and spreads out such a sublime result, that men are apt to consider it too good for belief, and they fear to give credence to it, as when we think our wishes are betraying our judgment when we could credit some news brought to us concerning a very desirable object, and we say, "It is too much to hope for." It was so with the early disciples, when the intelligence of the resurrection of Jesus was brought to them: "They yet believed not for joy." But their refusal to believe, only showed their want of faith in what Christ had spoken, or their want of an understanding of his teachings. May it not be so with those who say to us, that Universalism is too much to hope for? it is too good to be true!

We cannot return this compliment, in reference to the doctrine of endless sin and misery; but must say, "It is too bad to be true!" It outrages all our conceptions of the wisdom and goodness of God. It darkens his universe with the shadow of infinite evil. It exhibits a defeated Deity, and tells us of "lips ordained on hymns to dwell, corrupting to groans and blowing the fires of hell." It gives us no hope that the capacities of all souls for infinite progress, will find means for expansion, but assures us that millions of millions will sin and suffer on, and on, and on, through interminable ages. We say of such an idea that it is too bad to be true! It is revolting to all those sympathies which must be kept active in order to do the work of Christian Zeal; and by making Evil a permanent condition of such a vast portion of immortal beings, it contradicts the revelations of God in nature, where, from "seeming evil, He is always educing good." It encourages all those low and contracted views of the Divine Government which have made God seem like man, with transient affections and varying purposes. It keeps the mind from expecting the noblest things of God, and makes all his victories to be like the conquests of the bloody warrior, resulting in horrid ruins and awful desolation. It makes the gladness of eternity but as the beauty of the waving harvests of a battle field from richness given to the earth by the blood of slaughtered thousands. Nay! it is worse than this. It requires us to imagine some victorious king having power to make his captives immortal in their miseries, and perpetuating their being only that they may suffer! Oh it is too bad to be true. Does any one assert this to be a wrong statement of the common doctrine? We answer Those who have by quoting from Dr. Barnes : done evil shall be raised up to be condemned, or damned. This shall be the object of raising them up; this the sole design." Is not that too horrible for belief? Were a king, at a certain period of time, to ordain that all the criminals in his kingdom should be placed in such circumstances as would preclude all possibility of improvement, and where they would be forced to sin on and on through the length of their existence, would not a universal ery of horror arise against it, and Nero, with all his cruelties, seem amiable in comparison? And yet such is the representation which the doctrine of endless sin and misery makes of God. It is too bad to be true. It gives us a Deity which we cannot love, if we would, and which we ought not to love, if

we could. For no being should be reverenced as a Deity, whose character it would not be safe to imitate, and surely it is not safe in our families, or in society, to imitate a being who limits his affections and fixes in an eternal state of sin the objects of his wrath when the limit of love is passed. And yet the popular interpretations of Christianity give us a Deity who raises millions to inmortality with "the sole design" of making them miserable! It is too bad to be true.

We would now apply this argument to the Principle involved in this doctrine; the Spirit it has inculcated; and the Misery it has occasioned.

And first, the doctrine of infinite wrath is too bad to be true, because it is founded on Revenge. This fact is set forth very plainly by Baxter in his noted work, "The Saint's Rest." I opened the book one day, as I tarried at a house previous to a lecture, and I read thus:-"3. The torments of the damned must be extreme, because they are the effects of divine vengeance. Wrath is terrible, but revenge is implacable." Here the doctrine is plain that endless misery is founded on revenge. The reason here given why the torments of the damned must be extreme, is that revenge is implacable-no hope can be entertained that it will ever be satisfied; it is more cruel than wrath, and says, in the language of Young:

"Tho' much is paid, yet still it owes me much; And I will not abate a single groan."

This idea of God is essential to the support of the popular doctrine. That doctrine will be gone just as soon as a nobler and worthier view of the Divine character obtains, and men cease to attribute as honorable to God what is mean and disgraceful in man.

That our position may be seen to be the same as eminent minds in the "orthodox" church have taken, we quote from two, and certainly there is great pertinency in their remarks, as the principle involved is the same whether punishment be human or divine:

"Punishment (says Dr. Paley) is two-fold, amendment and example, and all species of pain which does not contemplate the true ends of punishment, is so much revenge." "All pain inflicted over and above these two purposes of punishment, (says the eminent Robert Hall) is a needless waste of suffering, condemned alike by reason and Christianity."

All around us we hear loud declamation

against the Universalist's views of God's retributive agents, and we are told that it is essential to godliness to nourish faith in endless punishment,-punishment as a final condition, a permanent state,-punishment inflicted without the least design to promote the well being of the subjects. All this is summed up in the common assertion,-" Future punishment is not remedial." This is Revenge, and nothing else. It is as though the surgeon on discovering that his patient had once wronged him grievously, should keep, while life lasted, his instruments of surgery turning in the wounds he should probe to heal! Savage warriors turn their knife in the death wound of their enemy, and that last deed is deemed revengeful in the extreme. O, is it not blasphemy to attribute such a passion to God! to declare such a principle carried out in the divine administration! It is too bad to be true.

2. We see this fact again in considering the Spirit which this doctrine has inculcated. How forcibly is this set forth by a quotation made by Tytler in his “Universal History.” “It was a doctrine of Mary's, as Bishop Burnet informs us, that as the souls of heretics are afterwards to be eternally burning in hell, there could be nothing more proper than to imitate the divine vengeance by burning them on earth. In the course of Bloody Mary's reign, it is computed that about eight hundred persons were burnt alive in England. Yet this monster of a woman died in peace; with the consideration, no doubt, of having merited eternal happiness as a reward of that zeal she had shown in support of the true religion." This was the same spirit that made the old warrior Bishop apologize for wielding the weapons of death so destructively, by saying in answer to the appeal that "Christians are required to love their enemies," "Yes, but not the Lord's enemies," and down went the bloody instrument of war upon defenceless heads! And is not this spirit abroad now? Do not professed Christians continually refer to the severest dealings of God in the Old Testament, to vindicate their refusal to make punishments remedial, and to do away with the relics of barbarism? Man has ever been prone to imitate God in the awful retributive aspects of his government, rather than in the milder dealings with humanity; that doctrine is too bad to be true which encourages all this, and keeps back the progress of true Christian civilization.

3. But there is yet another view to be taken of it, and that is the Misery which it has occa

sioned in the souls of many who have believed it too sincerely. Our asylums for the insane tell the sad story of what wrecks of mind it has caused, and such are the most hopeless of all cases of crazed brains. Human hearts all around us bleed in anguish because of that dread of eternity which it inspires, and this too, not in the dissolute and profane, but in those who live nearest to the altar and feel most for their own souls and the souls of their race. They sometimes confess how life is made "a cruel bitter" by this belief; and they tell us that they do not wonder that the dreadful fear it creates "has made some mad and many melancholy." Oh, indeed, its presence in the soul reminds us of the Savior's comparison of "the abomination of desolation standing in the holy place." The Roman vulture with bloody beak, taking the place of the meek and lovely dove.

An estimable and influential minister of the "orthodox" church, was asked in private, if he did not secretly indulge a belief in the doctrine of the final restoration of all souls, and with great earnestness and energy he answered,-"If I believed it, I have too much humanity to withhold it from my people." What an eloquent compliment to Universalism! What an acknowledgement of its power to impart happiness! He could not but liken it, on the supposition of its truth, to some great discovery which it would be inhumanity to withhold from the world. The world does indeed demand it. The sins, the sorrows, the bereavements which oppress and bewilder, make us cry out for a hope that shall show an end of moral evil, a glorious fulfillment of the great promise in Eden that sin shall be crushed, its powers destroyed, and tears and groans give place to smiles and praises.

One reason why the real badness of the popular doctrine is not more seen, is because the contrast of Universal and Partial Holiness, as the permanent result or condition of man, is not enough considered. Dr. Beecher once said that endless punishment was just, because it would "tread upon the heels of endless transgression." Hence the fixed and final condition of "the damned" is one of perpetual sin, and this is what gives the chief horror to the common doctrine. Souls are to be so circumstanced that they must sin, and for yielding to this necessity they must be continually punished! Now, in opposition to this, we say, that God made man to reflect himself, and we do not believe that He will ever lose sight of this object, but will make immor

tality a blessing to every soul, for grace must abound beyond sin, else man were as infinite as God.

It might be useful for some Christians to remember a remark of Addison where he speaks of Plutarch who made a discourse to show that the atheist, who denies a God, does him less dishonor than a man who owns his being, but at the same time, believes him to be cruel, hard to please, and terrible to human nature. "For my own part," says he, "I would rather it should be said of me, that there was never any such man as Plutarch, than that Plutarch was ill-natured, capricious, or inhuman.”

That surely is too bad to be true which is worse than the denial of the Divine Existence!

LIZZIE BROWN.

[Concluded.]

PART III.

THE physician's prophecy as to little Willie, did not prove true, for he suffered for weeks, under the most afflicting form of typhus fever. Lizzie left her school to attend to him, and Miss Green came to take her place. I shall never forget how Cora Lee pouted and said she "wouldn't go to the new school-marm," and when told that she must go, she revenged herself by saying, "I wont love her, as I do Lizzie Brown-any way I wont."

Before Willie recovered, James was taken down with the same disease; and Mr. Brown, too poor to hire aid, gathered his harvest in alone. Lizzie had arranged Willie's crib near the bed of James; and as much of her time as she could spare from the kitchen, was spent with them. At noon, or towards evening, her father would come in from his work, and sit with the sick boy, while she arranged his food; and then he would go back and wait upon them, till Lizzie could make a little gruel, or wash the dishes, or perform some other necessary labor. Mrs. Brown, when her children were not immediately dangerous, smoked and visited, undisturbed by their feverish cheeks, their wasted frames, or their feeble moans. Occasionally there was an offer of help from some one-for, thank heaven, earth owns its good as well as its evil spiritsand this lightened Lizzie's burdens a little. Kind-hearted, generous Dr. Gray and his amiable wife, were often ready to assist them; and dignified Judge Summers and his aristocraticlooking lady, often brought some nicety for the sick. As the brothers grew better, Lizzie grew worse; she had striven to keep up, and tried to rally her failing strength; for she saw no place of rest for her. If she became ill, what would the others do? Sick and discouraged, they would give up in despair. And then she feared a long, distressing illness, of months--perhaps years. Every energy had been so long on the rack, that she feared it would require a long time to restore her; and it was her greatest fear that she could not bear the trial patiently and cheerfully. But the trial came at last-weeks of terrible fever, followed by diseased lungs and the complete prostration of the nervous system.

One day, after Lizzie had become very weak, James, who was somewhat better, plead earnest

ly for some cold water. Willie could not go for it, and their father was busy in the field. Lizzie thought it would not injure him, and holding on to the ceiling, she got down stairs, and then crept to the spring; as she bent over it, her pale, wo-begone face, startled her, and she murmured-" Paler than ever! well, let the flesh fail, the spirit is stronger to-day than before it was tried." Any other than Lizzie Brown would have asked for the dust-pillow and the grasscovering; but she, sweet, saint-like creature, she was happy that she was yet able to do that little for those she loved. As she gave her brother a drink, he noticed her pale face and fluttering breath, and asked-"Oh! Lizzie, what do we live for ?"

"Because God has thought best that we should be here; he has placed us like sentinels at our post, and it is our duty to watch faithfully and cheerfully, till he gives us a pleasanter labor."

"Faithfully and cheerfully-how can I be even patient, Lizzie-not to mention the word cheerful or contented? Sick and needy, disgraced by poverty, and compelled to endure trials far worse; requiring almost every comfort of life, yet unable to procure them; with a desire for knowledge, yet deprived of an opportunity to gain it; without a moment to listen to the murmur of the rivulet, or the sighing of the wind-to gaze upon the beauty of the earth or sky-with a love for these, I am bound, soul and body, to a life of complete drudgery. Don't talk to me of patience-I cannot, I will not be patient."

Well, James," replied Lizzie, "take things as you choose; go on murmuring and complaining, if so you feel happier-but I fear this is the rock upon which you are to wreck your bark of life. This spirit of discontent, only renders you more sensitive to your trials, and the more unfits you for the task you are to perform. If you would be only a little more quiet, have a little more confidence in your heavenly Father, your burdens would be much lighter, and what now look like mountains to your vision, would then seem like inole-hills. "For he who is steadily resolved against all uncertainties, is never disturbed by a variety of them.""

You talk as though we were all made alike; because you can bear every thing, you think I can. It is no virtue for you to keep cool, for you can do it without an effort; but that is no sign I can."

"I did not intend to talk in that manner, for I very well know, that God has constituted us

all differently. But you are mistaken about my forbearance; it is only by great and continued effort that I can take things so quietly; only by seeming happy, and patient, and contented, when I have been otherwise, that I have really come to be so. Your energies-your capability of self-government-all lie, unfolded, undeveloped within you. You know not what you may attain; you know not, and never can you know, until you make the effort to gather it, how much happiness lies scattered at your feet. You do not understand now, but I hope you will learn ere long, that you may quite as easily journey on your way to heaven, with your heart filled with thanksgiving and prayer, as with dissatisfaction and gloom."

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But, Lizzie, would you inculcate a spirit of indolence and ease? I verily believe you would have me satisfied with my condition, and not make an effort to change it; content to remain the clod I am happy in my servitude, and content to wear my chains."

"You mistake me--I would only have you, as St. Paul had learned to be-'in whatsoever state, content.' Providence has given you sufficient for the present, and when you require more, he will bestow it. He has set your pathway, and placed your feet within it; and can you, by choice or effort, turn your course? Does your murmuring or complaining render the trial any lighter, or change your situation in the least? It is true, that we are disgraced by poverty, as far as that can disgrace one; but remember, my brother, that our Master was far poorer than we. He, whose truths are to redeem a world, had not where to lay his head. If you would change your situation, and gather around you more that can render life agreeable, revive your departing courage-put on the armor of invincible patience and perseverance, and strive to accomplish what you desire. If you succeed, thank God that he has made you an agent to better your condition: if you fail, thank him just as earnestly that he has overruled your efforts, by a wiser will of his own; and left you in a situation the best for yourself, and the most consistent with his power and goodness. Feeling meanwhile, that, 'had it been otherwise, you should have been content; but as it is, God has ordered better.' For believe me, whatever God allows to happen, happens always for the best. It is true, that poverty has not been our greatest grief; that, trying and fearful as it is, grows darker and deeper with years; and it may be ever thus. God only knows, but he is wiser

and better than we. If we are to suffer on, it will be nothing new. It is all folly-this sitting down, gloomy and sorrowful, crying out in one's despair, that one's grief is greater than other hearts have borne. Look at what Regulus suffered, and Aristides bore; at the trials of Socrates, and the worse than poverty or death of Seneca. Look at the glorious host of martyrs-the delicate women and heroic men, old England drowned and burned and executed-at the sufferings of the Pilgrim Fathers, and the trials of the American revolution; and the fearful trials, that in almost every form, fell upon the Jesuitical priests scattered throughout the wilderness of the new world, teaching what they sincerely believed to be God's truth to the savages. These men-these women-were human; no better prepared by nature-no better qualified by education-receiving no higher support from the Eternal Father, perhaps, than are we. It is because we are willing to be weak, that we are not so strong; because we shrink back without coming boldly and courageously to trial, that our burdens are greater than we can bear.

I realize, as well as yourself, the truth, that you never had but little opportunity to attend school; and for that reason, I would have you make the most of it. Which is the wiser-to mourn because you cannot do as you like, or make the most of doing as you can? You have hitherto been quite studious, and with your winter schooling, and the husbanding of your leisure moments, you probably have more information, and more scientific knowledge at sixteen, than many boys who have their money and leisure, possess at twenty. While Burns drove his plough, he wove his song; and while you labor with your hands, you need not neglect your mind. As you go from your book to your toil, you have time to ponder upon every idea you have gathered; you can consider the thousand theories, and doctrines, and rules of men, that you may know whether they are natural and consistent, and consequently correct. You are abroad, with Nature all before you, waiting for your investigation and research; the earth beneath you, with its geological and botanical beauties; the heavens above, with their clusters of stars; the winds and the birds make music for your ear; the waters flow, and fall, and glisten, for your eye; you may not become very learned in the science of the schools, but you may have a good share of even this; and you may become what is far better-an original