all fenced me in from temptations from without.  It was the uprising of an outraged conscience that made me a rebel against the Churches and finally an unbeliever in God.  And I place this on record, because the progress of Materialism will never be checked by diatribes against unbelievers, as though they became unbelievers from desire for vice and for licence to do evil.  What Religion has to face in the controversies of to-day is not the unbelief of the sty, but the unbelief of the educated conscience and of the soaring intellect; and unless it can arm itself with a loftier ethic and a grander philosophy than its opponent, it will lose its hold over the purest and the strongest of the younger generation.

CHAPTER V.

THE STORM OF DOUBT.

My reading of heretical and Broad Church works on one side, and of orthodox ones on the other, now occupied a large part of my time, and our removal to Sibsey, in Lincolnshire, an agricultural village with a scattered population, increased my leisure.  I read the works of Robertson, Stopford Brooke, Stanley, Greg, Matthew Arnold, Liddon, Mansel, and many another, and my scepticism grew deeper and deeper as I read.  The Broad Church arguments appeared to me to be of the nature of special pleading, skilful evasions of difficulties rather than the real meeting and solving of them.  For the problem was:  Given a good God, how can He have created mankind, knowing beforehand that the vast majority of those whom He created were to be tortured for ever?  Given a just God, how can He punish people for being sinful, when they have inherited a sinful nature without their own choice and of necessity?  Given a righteous God, how can He allow sin to exist for ever, so that evil shall be as eternal as good, and Satan shall reign in hell as long as Christ in heaven?  Worst of all puzzles, perhaps, was that of the existence of evil and of misery, and the racking doubt whether God could be good, and yet look on the evil and the misery of the world unmoved and untouched.  It seemed so impossible to believe that a Creator could be either cruel enough to be indifferent to the misery, or weak enough to be unable to stop it.  The old dilemma faced me incessantly:  “If He can prevent it and does not, He is not good; if He wishes to prevent it and cannot, He is not almighty.”  I racked my brains for an answer.  I searched writings of believers for a clue, but I found no way of escape.  Not yet had any doubt of the existence of God crossed my mind.

Mr. D——­ continued to write me, striving to guide me along the path which had led his own soul to contentment, but I can only find room here for two brief extracts, which will show how to himself he solved the problem.  He thought me mistaken in my view