treatise can doubt for a moment, that its author believed in the future punishment of the wicked,—­and in the future endless punishment of the incorrigibly wicked, because there is not the slightest hint or expectation of any exercise of mercy on the part of this Divinity whose vengeance, though slow, is sure and inevitable.[3] Some theorists tell us that the doctrine of endless punishment contradicts the instincts of the natural reason, and that it has no foundation in the constitution of the human soul.  We invite them to read and ponder well, the speculations of one of the most thoughtful of pagans upon this subject, and tell us if they see any streaks or rays of light in it; if they see any inkling, any jot or tittle, of the doctrine of the Divine pity there.  We challenge them to discover in this tract of Plutarch the slightest token, or sign, of the Divine mercy.  The author believes in a hell for the wicked, and an elysium for the good; but those who go to hell go there upon principles of justice, and those who go to elysium go there upon the same principles.  It is justice that must place men in Tartarus, and it is justice that must place them in Elysium.  In paganism, men must earn their heaven.  The idea of mercy,—­of clemency towards a transgressor, of pity towards a criminal,—­is entirely foreign to the thoughts of Plutarch, so far as they can be gathered from this tract.  It is the clear and terrible doctrine of the pagan sage, that unless a man can make good his claim to eternal happiness upon the ground of law and justice,—­unless he merits it by good works,—­there is no hope for him in the other world.

The idea of a forgiving and tender mercy in the Supreme Being, exercised towards a creature whom justice would send to eternal retribution, nowhere appears in the best pagan ethics.  And why should it?  What evidence or proof has the human mind, apart from the revelations made to it in the Old and New Testaments, that God will ever forgive sin, or ever show mercy?  In thinking upon the subject, our reason perceives, intuitively, that God must of necessity punish transgression; and it perceives with equal intuitiveness that there is no corresponding necessity that He should pardon it.  We say with confidence and positiveness:  “God must be just;” but we cannot say with any certainty or confidence at all:  “God must be merciful.”  The Divine mercy is an attribute which is perfectly free and optional, in its exercises, and therefore we cannot tell beforehand whether it will or will not be shown to transgressors.  We know nothing at all about it, until we hear some word from the lips of God Himself upon the point.  When He opens the heavens, and speaks in a clear tone to the human race, saying, “I will forgive your iniquities,” then, and not till then, do they know the fact.  In reference to all those procedures which, like the punishment of transgression, are fixed and necessary, because they are founded in the eternal