"Oh, Roger, I wish I knew why God did not destroy the devil in the beginning, or at least not let him come into the garden. Because, then, nothing would have gone wrong, would it? Eve would not have eaten the fruit, Mr. Prynne and Dr. Bastwick would not have been set in the pillory. And I should not, most likely, have quarrelled with Placidia, because, I suppose, Placidia would not have been provoking." "I wish I knew why my Father lets Cousin Placidia live with us, and always be making us do wrong," said Roger. "She is an orphan, and some one must take care of her, you know," I said. "Besides, surely, Father has reasons, only we don't always know." "And I suppose God has reasons," said Roger reverently, "only we don't always know." "But the devil is all bad," said I, "and will never be better; and Cousin Placidia may. It could not be for the devil's own sake God did not kill him, for he only gets worse; and I do not see how it could be for ours." "The devil was not always the devil, Olive," said Roger, after thinking a little while. "He was an angel at first." "Then, O Roger," said I eagerly, for the perplexity lay heavy on my heart, "why did not God stop the devil from ever being the devil? That would have been better than anything." Roger made no reply. "It cannot be because God could not," I pursued, "because Aunt Dorothy says He can do everything. And it cannot be because He would not, because Aunt Gretel says He hates to see any one do wrong or be unhappy. But there must be some reason; and if we only knew it, I think everything else would become quite plain." "I do not see the reason, Olive," said Roger, after a long pause. "I cannot see it in the least. I remember hearing two or three people discuss it once with Father and Aunt Dorothy; and I think they all thought they explained it. But no one thought any one else did. And they used exceedingly long and learned words, longer and more learned the further they went on. But they could not agree at all, and at last they became angry, so that I never heard the end. But in two or three years, you know, I am going to Oxford, and then I will try and find out the reason. And when I have found it out, Olive, I will be sure to tell you." "But that is not at all the most perplexing thing to me, Olive," he began, after a little silence; "because, after all, if we or the angels were to be persons and not things, I don't see how it could be helped that we might do wrong if we liked. The great puzzle to me is, why we do anything, or if we can help doing anything we do; that is, if we are really persons at all, and not a kind of puppets." "Of course we are not puppets, Roger," said I. "Of course we can help doing things if we like. I do not think that is any puzzle at all. I could have helped biting Placidia's finger if I had liked--that is, if I had tried. And that is what makes it wrong."