How great, too, the knowledge displayed of the true conditions of moral authority! It is not acquaintance with the nature of man, but power over him, that the Gospel seeks. Yet to influence men morally, it is needful both to love and reform them; to win their confidence by love and their respect by severity. {32} Severity and love are the two engines wherewith to control the heart of man, for men know by instinct their moral wants--those which press them down as well as those which please them. They are deeply troubled by the sense of their imperfections; they wish to be raised. Love felt and inspired is at once their noblest and their most lively joy; they desire to love and be beloved. Complete control over them, I mean moral control, involves these two conditions,--that much be required from them of virtue, much be bestowed on them of love. The last century had thus much good; it loved mankind and men. It bore a really deep affection to them, and wished them well. But as it was a critical and reasoning age, the sentiment of love often disguised itself in the dress and shape of controversy and analysis. Nevertheless, the feeling was there, sincere and powerful. That spirit of universal justice and humanity which characterized the epoch, whence did it spring if not from a lively sympathy with man, and a tender interest in his welfare? But, together with this virtue, the last century certainly exhibited one great defect; it did not feel for evil the aversion it deserves. Not only as regarded certain rules of conduct and certain duties, but as concerned a rule in general and the very principle of duty, the spirits of the day were victims to doubt, that great corrupter of the human heart. In the moral system, stability and elevation go together; to waver is to descend; uncertainty is the sign and the cause of abasement. Not knowing where the evil existed, or even if it did exist, the eighteenth century denied or excused it when met with, instead of execrating and opposing it to the utmost. {33} And with the fixed points the long perspectives disappeared. By an admirable law of his nature, in order that man may hope he must believe, and believe in good. Virtue alone demands an eternity. Doubting about duty, they doubted their own future. Moral faith tottered; God veiled his countenance. In such a state of mind, in an age which loved man and interested itself about him, man must have been an object of pity. What a destiny was that of a creature thus powerful yet faltering; always in motion, yet not knowing where to fix his foot firmly in this world, or where to fix his gaze beyond it! To aspire so high, in order to fall low and pass away so quickly! Such ambition without a worthy object! Such labour without any sure results! What father, if he thought his child were reserved for such a lot, but would feel overwhelmed by compassion and grief?