Story of father and son.

be in danger of using some harsh and resentful words. Now I wish you to be careful. Bear injury patiently, and do not use opprobrious language in return."

All this would be very well; but suppose that in addition the father were to say, "My son, I have contrived to ascertain what you will say, and I have writen here upon this paper every word that you will utter to-day."

"Every word that you think I shall speak, you mean,” says the boy.

'No," says the father, "every word that you will speak; they are all written here exactly. I have by a certain mysterious means ascertained them, and here they are. And it is absolutely certain that you will speak every thing which is written here, and not a syllable beside."

Could any boy, after such a statement, go away believing

God foreknows all things.

Imaginary conversation with an infidel.

what his father had said, and yet feeling that he himself could be, notwithstanding, free to act and speak that day as he pleased?*

Now God knows, as all will acknowledge, every thing which will take place in the history of one of his creatures, just as certainly as if a minute record of it were previously written. The mere fact of expressing it in language would make no difference. We may thus consider our future conduct to be as clearly known, and as certain, as if our histories were minutely written; and where is the man-with perhaps the exception of a few theologians, who have made metaphysical philosophy a study for years-who will not acknowledge that this truth, which nobody will deny, throws a little perplexity over his mind when he looks at that boundless moral freedom and entire accountability, which the Bible and human consciousness both attribute to man.

Fifth difficulty. It is common to prove the existence of God from his works in the following manner: We see created objects; they must have had a cause, for nothing can arise out of nothing. There must have been, therefore, some great first cause, which we call God.

Now this reasoning is very plausible; but suppose the infidel to whom you present it should say, "But what brought God into existence ?"

Let it be remembered that I am writing for the young, and am enumerating difficulties insuperable to them. A mind long accustomed to the accuracy of metaphysical inquiries will see that the antecedent certainty of any act proves only the greatness of the intellect which can foresee it,-it has nothing do with the freedom of the moral agent by which it is performed. But if any one supposes that there is no great difficulty for the young in this subject, let him try to convince an intelligent boy, that, under such circumstances as are above described, he could be free to speak gently or angrily, solely according to his own free will.

Sixth difficulty.

You answer, "He is uncaused."

66

Answering prayer.

Very well," he replies, "then he came from nothing;

so that it seems something can come from nothing."

No," you reply, "he existed from eternity."

"And I maintain," replies the Atheist, "that the world has existed uncaused from all eternity; and why is not my supposition as good as yours? There are no more marks of design in the structure of this earth, than there are in the nicely balanced and adjusted powers and attributes of Jehovah."

Now this does not shake my confidence in the being of a God. Notwithstanding the difficulty of reasoning with an infidel who is determined not to be convinced, the proofs from marks of design are conclusive to every unbiased mind. We know there is a God-every man knows there is; though they who are resolved to break his laws, sometimes vainly seek shelter in a denial of his existence: like the foolish child who, when at midnight the thunder-storm rages in the skies, buries his face in his pillow, and fancies that he finds protection from the forked lightning by just shutting his eyes to its glare. No; it only shakes my confidence in all abstract reasonings upon subjects which are beyond my grasp.

Sixth difficulty. How can God really answer prayer without in fact miraculously interrupting the course of nature? That God does answer prayer by an exertion of his power in cases to which human influence does not reach, seems evident from the following passage: The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. Elias was a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain, and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit." James v. 16, 17, 18. Now if the

Case supposed.

The sick son.

natural effect of prayer as an exercise of the heart were all, this illustration would be altogether inappropriate. It must teach that the prayers of men will have an influence with Jehovah, so that he shall order, differently from what he otherwise would do, events beyond human control. Now how can this in fact be done without a miracle? A miracle is nothing more than an interruption of the ordinary course of nature. Now if the ordinary course of nature would in any case bring us what we ask, it is plain we do not owe it to God's answering prayer. If the regular course of nature would not bring it, then it seems that God can not grant the request without interrupting that course more or less ;—and this is a miracle. This reasoning appears simple enough, and it is difficult to see how the conclusion can be avoided.

But to make the point plainer, let me suppose a case. A mother, whose son is sick in a foreign port, asks for prayers in a seaman's chapel, that he may be restored to health and returned in safety. The young man is perhaps ten thousand miles from home. The prayer can have no power to put in operation any earthly cause which can reach him. If it reaches him at all, it must be through the medium of the Creator.

Now we are compelled to believe, if we believe the Bible, that the prayer will in all ordinary cases have an influence. The efficacy of prayer, in such cases as this, is so universally taught in the Bible, that we can not doubt it and yet retain that volume as our guide. But how can God answer this prayer without, in reality, interfering miraculously with the laws of nature? If the young man would have recovered without it, then his restoration can not very honestly be said to be in answer to prayer. If he recovers, when, without the prayer, he would have died, then it seems very plain that God must interfere somewhere to interrupt what would have been the ordinary course of nature; he must arrest super

Miraculous interference in answering prayer.

Sources of difficulty.

naturally the progress of the disease, or give to medicine an efficacy which, without his special interference, it would not have possessed; or suggest to his physician a course of treatment which the ordinary laws of thought would not have presented to his mind, either of which, according to every philosophical definition of the word, is a miracle.

I might go on with such an enumeration to an indefinite length; but I have, I hope, already brought up points enough; and let my reader remember, that it is not necessary for my purpose, that he should admit that all these questions are beyond the grasp of his mind. It is enough for my present object, that each one will admit that some of them are. One reader will say, perhaps, that he can understand the subject of God's answering prayer; another will think there is no difficulty in regard to God's foreknowledge of human actions; and thus every reader will perhaps find some one of these difficulties which he thinks he understands. But will not all acknowledge, that there are among them, some which he can not understand? If so, he will cordially feel that there are subjects connected with important religious truth, which are beyond the grasp of the human mind, and this conviction, is what I have been endeavoring to establish.

seen.

The real difficulties which I have brought to view in the preceding pages are few. They are only brought up again and again in different forms, that they might be more clearly Eternal duration; infinite space; the nature of moral agency;—these are the fountains of perplexity, from which, in various ways, I have drawn in this chapter. They are subjects which the human mind can not grasp, and they involve in difficulty every proposition, of which they form an element. You may remove the difficulty from one part of the ground to the other, you may conceal it by sophistry, you may obscure it by declamation; but, after all that you have done, it will remain a difficulty still, and the acute and candid mind