With what a sense of relief does one turn from a system of philosophy which, when stripped of its garb of well-chosen words and large sounding, plausible phrases, appears in such vile shape and hideous proportions, to the teachings of that pure and noble instructor of our youth, that man who, by his gentle, benignant mien, so beautifully illustrates the spirit and life of the Apostle John,--Rev. Mark Hopkins, D. D., President of Williams College. No one who has read his "Lectures on Moral Science," and no lover of truth should fail to do so, will desire an apology for inserting the following extract, wherein is presented a theory upon which the soul of man can rest, as at home the soldier rests, who has just been released from the Libby or Salisbury charnel-house. "And here, again, we have three great forces with their products. These are the vegetable, the animal, and the rational life. "Of these, vegetable life is the lowest. Its products are as strictly conditional for animal life as chemical affinity is for vegetable, for the animal is nourished by nothing that has not been previously elaborated by the vegetable. 'The profit of the earth is for all; the king himself is served by the field.' "Again, we have the animal and sensitive life, capable of enjoyment and suffering, and having the instincts necessary to its preservation. _This_, as man is now constituted, _is conditional for his rational life_. The rational has its roots in that, and manifests itself only through the organization which that builds up. "_We have, then, finally and highest of all, this rational and moral life, by which man is made in the image of God._ In man, as thus constituted, we first find a being who is capable of choosing his own end, or, rather, of choosing or rejecting the end indicated by his whole nature. This is moral freedom, _and in this is the precise point of transition from all that is below to that which is highest_. For everything below man the end is necessitated. Whatever choice there may be in the agency of animals of means for the attainment of their end,--and they have one somewhat wide,--they have none in respect to the end itself. This, for our purpose, and for all purposes, is the characteristic distinction, so long sought, between man and the brute. Man determines his own end; the end of the brute is necessitated. Up to man everything is driven to its end by a force working from without or from behind; but for him the pillar of cloud and of fire puts itself in front, and he follows it or not, as he chooses.