It may be supposed--it has been supposed--that somehow at the last moment, Absalom repented, and was saved. We put no limit on the grace of God; but such a supposition is entirely gratuitous. It is a far-fetched invention to square with the idea of supposed final perseverence. The difficulty is, to believe that Absalom died in a state of grace. How much more likely it is that Absalom came to himself in the next life; and that his father could endure--yea, rejoice in--his absence for a time, knowing that the result would be everlasting reunion. And so with Solomon. We read of the high hopes that David cherished about Solomon, and how Solomon so terribly declined in character in his later life, and died, so far as the record goes, in apostasy from God. If he is absent from heaven, will not his absence cause David an everlasting pang? And so with King Saul, and many more whom we recall, both in Bible history, and in our own experience. The unsolved difficulty stares us in the face; but it is no longer a difficulty, but everlasting harmony, when we believe in Restoration. GEORGE ELIOT'S IDEA. And if the fate of extinction would thus cause everlasting regret how much more would the knowledge that our friends are in everlasting torment. Surely our knowledge of such a fate would be unendurable. Would there not be everlasting distress in that world of joy? In fact it would be no world of joy. We shall have the same nature then as now. It will be only ennobled and purified. Certainly sympathy--which is one of the noblest of our feelings--will be more tender and intense than now. George Eliot said that she estimated her entire moral condition by her capacity of sympathy. We may imagine then the horror of the situation if we have to think of our friends as being in everlasting torment. Surely this is a strong argument for Restoration. We might endure, and even rejoice in, a mild degree of suffering on the part of friends, if we knew that such was a necessary process of purification, and that by and by they would rise to eternal happiness. But to think of them as being forever in torment--inflicted for punishment, and not for purification--would be unspeakable torture. We have indeed heard of zealots who taught that the saved would even rejoice in the sufferings of the damned, as the effect of God's glorious justice. For the credit of humanity we would believe that such lurid representations were rare, and but the product of temporary excitement, or perhaps a mistaken zeal for orthodoxy. * * * * *