theory or RllJ" solut.ion. Doubts, which frequently settle do,vu into definite agnosticism, beset the m.m who is given to great intellectual activity. Aud then too the fact remains that we ca?not by_ sheer reasoning come to any definite conclusions 'as to any nf the great quest.Jons wl11cl1 most concern our bap\-iucss: No one can by searcbing find out God~reach definite knowledge concerning him, his existence, nature, and , hnrnctcr; or be assured of the fact of there being an ovefrulinrr Providence of the rfficncy of prayer, of a lifo beyond the grave, or of the immirto.lity of the soul. l', oba~lc or plausib~(l 9pinions n:ay be forn!cd, but certainty comes only by revcilat!on nnd faith. Hence 1t 1s tlrnt Milton describes some of the fallen anrrels ns wanderm" hnpelessly through these labyrinths of thou(Tht and conjecture, a~d findin"0 in ~ doing intellectual occupation, lmt neither sola~e nor rest, • "Others apart sat on a hill retired, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, nnd fate; l!'ix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge alisolute, Ano. found no end, in wandering mazes lost. Of good and evil much they argued then, Ofhappines3 and final misery, Passion and apathy, and glory and shame, Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy." And it has been said that one of the attractions which this, Book or Ecclesiastes hoe for the present age is in its sceptical questioning, and restless, fluctuating uncertainty, The age can adopl as its own i~ sombre decla~ations. "Science boasts vaioglorioualy of her progress., :yet mocks us with her grand discovery of progress througb pain, telling of small advantages for the few purchased by enormous waste of life, by internecine conflict and competition, and by a deadly struggle with Nature her~elt~ '.red ·in tooth and claw with ravin,' greedy to feed on the offspring of her own redundant' fertility. The revelations of geology and astronomy deepen our depression. The littleness of our lives and the insignificance of our concerns become more conspicuous in comparison with the long and slow procession of the mons which have gone before, and with the vast ocean of being around us, driven and tossed by enormous, complicated, and unresting forces. A new significance is thus given to the words, ' In much wisdom is much grief: and he that incr.easeth knowledge increaseth sorrow' 11 (Tyler). In his celebrated engraving of' Melancolia,' Albert Diirer has with wonderful skill depicted this mood of intellectual depression. He represents a winged figure, that of a woman seated by the seashore and looking intently into the distance, with bent brows and proud, pensive demeanour_ Her thoughts are absorbed in sombre meditation, and her wings are folded. A closed book.is in her lap. Near her stands a dial-plate, and above it a bell, that strikes the hours a.s they pass. The sun is rapidly nearing the horizon-line, and darkness will soon enshroud the earth. In her right hand she holds a compass and a circle, emblema.tic of that infinity of time and space upon which she is meditating. Around her are scattered the various implements of art, and the numerous appliances of science. They have served her purpose, and she· now casts them a.side, and listlessly ponders on the vanily of all human calculations. Above her is an hour-glass, in which the sands are running low, emblematic of the shortness of the time yet lert for fresh i;chemes and efforts. In like manner the Preacher found that·on the moral side increase of knowledge meant increase of sorrow. Knowledge of the true ideal only made Mm the more conscious of the distance we are from it, and of the hopelessness of our efforts to reach it. The further the research is carried, the more :abundant is the evidence dis- coverable of our moral nature being in a condition of disorder. We find that conscience too often reigns without governing, that natural appetites and desires refuse.to sul;nnit to her rule, that often motives and feelings which she distinctly- condemns, ·such as pride, envy, selftshness, and cruelty, direct and animate our conduct. -All' schools of philosophy ha vc recognized the fact of moral disorder in our nature. It is, indeed, unfor- tunately too evident to be denied or explained away. Aristotle says, "We are more naturally di,-posed towards those things which are wrong, and more easily carried away to ex,;ess than to propridy of conduct." Aud Hume, " We naturally desire what is for- 1.JllltleD, and often t~kc a pJ,,a.~ure in performing actions merely because they are unlawful, err. n. 12-!l.J ECCLESIASTES; OR, 'rHE PREACHER. 31
'l'ho notion of duty when opposite to the passions is not always able to overcome them • and whc~ )t fa\lM of that e!l'ect, is apt ~at~er t~ increase ,an~ irritate them, by pro<lucin~ nn ?PPOS1tion m our ~otives and pnnc1ple1J. 1 But 1t 1s not neces9ary to mulitply tcisl!mony to a fact so generally acknowledged. How this moral disorder ori"inated in hu_a;1rm nature is 11; problem wh!ch philosophy is !lnable to solve, just as it is lacking in ability to correct 1t. It can discern the symptoms and character of the disease an<l desc'ribe the course it takes, but cannot cure it, And so the existence of distu;bina- and lawless forces in our moral nature, the power of evil habit, the social inequalitic~ and disorders which result from the perversity of the individuals of whom society is made up, and the varying codes of morals which exist in the world, are all calculated to distress and perplex him who seeks to make that straight which is crooked, and to supplement that which is defective, Increase of knowledge brings increase of sorrow. -J.W. , -