But the way he chose for this end was not a good one; on his showing it was chance which ultimately decided who was good and who was wicked.  The old view of retribution which allowed time for judgment to operate far beyond the limit of the individual life had truth in it, but this view had none.  Yet it possessed one merit, that it brought up a problem which had to be faced, and which was a subject of reflection for a long time afterwards.

The problem assumed the form of a controversy as to the principle on which piety was rewarded—­this controversy taking the place of the great contest between Israel and the heathen.  Were the wicked right in saying that there was no God, i.e., that He did not rule and judge on earth?  Did He in truth dwell behind the clouds, and did He not care about the doings of men?  In that case piety would be an illusion.  Piety cannot maintain itself if God makes no difference between the godly and the wicked, and has nothing more to say to the one than to the other; for piety is not content to stretch out its hands to the empty air, it must meet an arm descending from heaven.  It must have a reward, not for the sake of the reward, but in order to be sure of its own reality, in order to know that there is a communion of God with men and a road which leads to it.  The usual form of this reward is the forgiveness of sins; that is the true motive of the fear of God.  That is to say, as long as it is well with him, the godly man does not doubt, and so does not require any unmistakable evidence by which he may be justified and assured of the favour of God.  But misfortune and pain destroy this certainty.  They are accusers of sin, God’s warnings and corrections.  Now is the time to hold fast the faith that God leads the godly to repentance, and destroys the wicked, that He forgives the sin of the former, but punishes and avenges that of the latter.  But this faith involves a hope of living to see better things; the justification of which the good man is sure must at last be attested by an objective judgment of God before the whole world, and the godly delivered from his sufferings.  Hence the constant anxiety and restlessness of his conscience; the judgment passed upon him is ultimately to be gathered from the external world, and he can never be sure how it is to turn out.  And a principle is also at stake the whole time, namely, the question whether godliness or ungodliness is right in its fundamental conviction.  Each individual case at once affects the generality, the sufferings of one godly person touch all the godly.  When he recovers and is saved, they triumph; when he succumbs, or seems to succumb, to death, they are cast down, unless in this case they should change their minds about him and hold him to be a hypocrite whom God has judged and unmasked.  In the same way, they are all hurt at the prosperity of an ungodly man, and rejoice together at his fall, not from jealousy or pleasure in misfortune for its own sake, but because in the one case their faith is overturned, while in the other it is confirmed.