creature of anomalies, he is, nevertheless, so constituted that he needs but the healthy development of his faculties to insure his progress. In fact, that he is, in the strictest sense, a progressive animal, and not a degraded angel. § True, we do not escape, under this estimate, any more than we do under the degredation theory, from that dreadful mass of corruption which surrounds us on every side.. In the one case, as in the other, we are met by the fearful results of ignorance, brutality, poverty, squalor, and intemperance; those distressing instances of moral shipwreck and spiritual barrenness which so sadly depress every thoughtful mind. But, in contradistinction to the retrospective theorist, the modern thinker, while he surveys this deplorable chaos, at the same time asks, Is it unphilosophical to believe that the God who spent ages in adapting the earth to those conditions requisite to human life may yet spend ages in adapting man for the final triumph of his higher over his lower natures? As Lord Dunraven forcibly expressed it, in his opening address to the Cambrian Archæological Association: "If we look back through the entire period of the past history of man, as exhibited in the result of archæological investigation, we can scarcely fail to perceive, that, the whole exhibits one grand scheme of progression, which, notwithstanding partial periods of decline, has for its end, the everincreasing civilization of man, and the gradual development of his higher faculties, and, for its object, the continual manipulation of the design, the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of Almighty God." |

§ For a formidable array of facts in opposition to the degradation theory, see Sir JOHN LUBBOCK's "Prehistoric Times."

"Origin of Civilization and Primitive Condition of Man," by Sir J. LUBBOCK, Bart.

Instead of reducing man to that deplorable condition, which represents him as subject to a curse imposed by an angry Deity, on the one hand, and liable to the endless machinations of the Devil, on the other; the disposition of modern thought is to regard sin as a negative rather than a positive condition: a state indicative of the absence of virtue, rather than a condition in which evil becomes the substratum of human nature. Persist in the old idea, and we place the noblest part of our nature under the pressure of an incubus, which, (to say the least of it), is far from conducive to a healthy anticipation of the future.

Accept the later estimate, even on the ground of a philosophical thesis, and we rise to a more consistent and more rational view of man's nature, the measure of his destiny, and the relationship he bears to those conditions by which he is surrounded. Indeed, even if we withhold our assent, on the point of actual superiority, we must admit, that the modern mind encourages a belief, which is wider in its scope, more sanguine in its expectatations, and more comprehensive in its estimate, both of God and man. Evils, which a hundred years ago, were piously deemed especial visitations of Providence, are now resolved into their constituent elements, as products of natural law. The causes that have produced this change of sentiment, are of secondary importance. Enough for our present purpose that they exist; among its most prominent characteristics being that spirit of philosophical consistency which refuses to recognize the idea of a discordant universe, one half governed by God, and the other by the Devil.

In a limited sense, it may be true that the modern mind is compelled to acknowledge the force of St. Paul's

statement, in his Epistle to the Ephesians, in which he says: "We battle not with flesh and blood, but with principalities and powers; with evil spirits that rule in the air." As a general statement, indicative of those alternations and evidences of frailty which every human being, more or less, realizes, no thoughtful man will reject the simile. But, to press the statement further, and insist on its literal acceptation, is to make a demand which modern thought will not assent to.

The specific difference between the ancient and modern theories consists in the fact that while the one adheres literally to the idea of an immensely powerful demonology as the cause of evil, the other relegates the whole subject of the Devil and his imps to that region of myth in which the human mind, in its earlier stages, delights to dwell; and which, as in the Persian mythology, embodied the idea of evil in the person of Ahriman, as the author of darkness, the creator of wild beasts, poisonous serpents, etc., and the cause of diseases, earthquakes and storms; the opposite idea of good being correspondingly expressed in the person of Ormuzd, as the creator of the sun, moon, and stars, and the cause of everything that contributes to man's happiness. In the one case, the sentiment is the result of the earlier and more rudimentary condition of Animism. In the other, it is indicative of that higher stage of intellectual culture which not only denotes a more advanced condition of civilization, but which, at the same time, refuses to believe that there is such a thing as intrinsic evil. In other words, while it recognizes the fact of man's imperfections and inconsistencies, it holds fondly, and persistingly to the idea that evil is but an evanescent phenomenon, which time and experience will gradually

remove.

Nor does it avail to argue that the testimony of history is opposed to this theory of gradual development, which regards nothing as thoroughly and essentially vile, and which, also, would apply the principle of continuity, and gradual growth, to the problem of human progress. That there do exist instances of retrogression, as well as of progression, in the records of history, is undeniable; but that these instances may be fitly compared with the periods of declination in the magnetic needle is equally obvious to any one who tests the subject by a comprehensive estimate. They indicate temporary variations, not permanent disturbances.

In

the long line of the past, nation after nation has taken up the beacon-light of civilization, leading others onward and upward until some defect has gradually produced ruin and decay.

"Another day is added to the map

Of buried ages."

We mourn over the monumental remains of civilizations long since passed away; we shudder at the possibility of Macaulay's New Zealander ever contemplating the ruins of St. Paul's; we are depressed at the the Sisyphean character of our civilization; and we wonder, in our sadness, why such things are permitted.

In our perplexity, we may be inclined to give up the problem in despair; but this is unmanly, unphilosophical. For a time, there may exist a transitional phase of darkness, but it cannot, in the nature of things, be permanent. Evidences which, at first sight, appear to contradict the idea of continuity and the perpetuity of progress as a component part of man's destiny, upon a closer examination are found to prove, rather than to disprove, the theory. It is for a time, and for a time

only, that the march of advancement seems to be arrested, and the hopes of humanity to be buried beneath the ruins of departed greatness and promise. In the revolution of ages, empires and dynasties have passed, away, but the elements of good that they contained are indestructible they are with us still.

For instance, who that studies carefully the characteristics of modern thought can be otherwise than impressed with the fact that, although the glory of Greece and the grandeur of Rome have long since departed, the present age is, in a very large measure, a reflection of their ideas and sentiments. The strict sense of Roman justice has given us our modern jurisprudence; * the spirit of Roman manliness, combined with the Saxon love of freedom, is, to a very great extent, the terra firma of our republican principles and insti

tutions.

As for Greece, it would hardly seem necessary to dwell upon a fact which is, more or less, familiar to every school-boy; and which we all, in some measure, realize, either through the productions of her artists, her poets, or her philosophers. There is a charm in her name, a fascination in her literature, and a majestic grandeur in her intellectual stature which speak so forcibly for themselves as to scarcely require any additional emphasis. And yet there is a tribute, paid by Macaulay,

* The vain titles of victories of Justinian are crumbled into dust, but the name of the legislator is inscribed on a fair and everlasting monument Under his reign, and by his care, the civil jurisprudence was digested in the immortal works of the Code, the Pandects, and the Institutes; the public reason of the Romans has been silently or studiously transfused into the domestic institutions of Europe, and the laws of Justinian still command the respect or obedience of independent nations.-GIBBON'S "History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."