TO LEWIS CAMPBELI, Esq.
Trin. Coll., 20th Feb. 1853.
After Chapel I was at Litchfield's,
where he, Farrar,
Pomeroy, and Blakiston,
discussed eternal punishment from 8 to 12. Men fall into
absurdity
as soon as they have settled for themselves the question of the origin
of evil. A man whose mind is "remade up" on that subject is
contradictory on every other; one day he says that the
man
that can be happy in such a world is a brute, and the next day that if
a man is not happy here he is a moping fool.
At last they assert the Cretan dilemma, that if a man says that man
is ignorant and foolish, it was ignorant and foolish to say
so. Solomon, they say, was used up when he wrote Ecclesiastes, and said
"all is vanity" in a relative sense, having himself been so.
Solomon
describes the search after Happiness for its own sake and for the sake
of possession. It is as if a strong man should collect into his
house
all the beauty of the world, and be condemned to look out of the
window and marvel that no good thing was to be seen. "No man can eat
his
cake and have it." I would add that what remains till to-morrow
will
stink.
As for evil being unripe good, I say
nothing with
respect to objective
evil, except that it is a part of the universe which it may
be the business of immortal man to search out for ever, and still see
more
beyond. We cannot understand it because it is relative, and
relative
to more than we know. But subjective evil is absolute; we are
conscious
of it as independent of external circumstances; its physical power is
bounded
by our finitude, bodily and mental, but within these its
intensity
is without measure. A bullet may be diverted from its course by the
medium
through which it passes, or it may take a wrong one owing to the
unskilfulness
of the shooter, or the intended victim may change his
place;
but all this depends, not on the will of the shooter, but on the
ignorance
of his mind, the weakness of his body, the resistance of inert
matter,
or the subsequent act of another agent; the bullet of the
murderer
may be turned aside to drive a nail, or what not, but his will is
independent
of all this, and may be judged at once without
appeal.
Yet still the lady shook her head,
And swore by yea and nay,
My whole was all that he had said,
And all that he could say.
J. C. MAXWELL.