2. Thus much in regard to the metaphysical element of religion: next comes the moral element. God does not only appear to the human soul as a being infinite, inexhaustible, eternal. The soul wants him nearer, and in her respectful boldness she calls him _Father_. Man is not only feeble and imperfect; he is also a sinner and a sufferer; evil is his condition. The frailty of our being and its narrow limits are already an evil; but these are the least of evils; humanity suffers, furthermore, from a double evil far more real and poignant: pain and sin. Against physical pain, suffering, it has but the feeble resource of prudence; against moral evil it has but one means of defense, very weak also--free-will. It would seem that we are the masters of the universe; but experience shows, on the contrary, that we are the feeblest among its creatures; often does the will succumb; and Kant himself, despite his stoicism, asks whether indeed a single act of virtue has ever been accomplished in the world. Life, on the whole, notwithstanding its grand aspects and its few exquisite and sublime joys, life is bad; all ends badly, and death, which puts an end to all evils, is yet the greatest of evils. "The human soul," says Plato, "like a bird, raises its eyes to heaven," and calls for a remedy, a help, a deliverance. "Deliver us from evil," is the cry of every religion. God is the liberator and comforter. We love what is good and we do what is evil; we impatiently desire happiness, and meet with nothing but wretchedness. Such is the contradiction Pascal points out with such incisive eloquence. This contradiction must be removed. Hope and trust in a supreme and benevolent Being must ransom us from pain and sin. Many persons place the essence of religion in the belief in a future life, or immortality of the soul. Who, without the hope of gaining paradise, would think of God? But this is a contradiction in terms. Paradise, for the true believer, is nothing; God, everything. If a future life is a necessary consequence of the divine justice and bounty, we need not doubt its existence; if not, we have nothing to ask; it does not concern us. What especially concerns us is to know what we ought to do here below, and to have the strength to do it with. "_Life is a meditation, not of death, but of life_," said Spinoza. But in order to live, and live well, one must believe in life, must believe in its healthy and holy significance, believe that it is not mere play, a mere mystification, but that it was given us by the principle of good for the success of good.