change from evil to good in order to become what man should be. Yet he does not mention the need of pardon for sin that is past. In _De Clementia_, I. 6, this passage occurs: “Reflect, in this city, in which a crowd pours through the widest street without intermission, and like a rapid stream dashes against any obstacle that impedes its course; where accommodation is required in three theatres at the same time; where is consumed whatever grain is produced in all lands; what a solitude and desolation were the result, if nothing were left but what a severe judge would pronounce free from fault.” A little further on he adds, “We have all sinned[40]; some deeply, others more lightly; some from design, others driven by chance impulses, or borne away by wickedness not their own; others of us have shown little steadfastness in sticking to our good resolutions, and, against our will and in spite of our endeavours, have lost our innocence. Nor is it only that we have erred, but to the end of time we shall err[41]. Even if any one has so purified his mind that nothing can shake, or seduce him any more, yet he has arrived at innocence through sin.” These are remarkable expressions, and show how much advanced the views of the philosopher were in the direction of the truth, even though it was by the path of self-humiliation. The writer of the article on “The Ancient Stoics” in the Oxford Essays, remarks: “Those who have been anxious to obtain the authority of Aristotle for the doctrine of human corruption, will find on consideration that this idea, which was historically impossible for a Greek of the fourth century B.C., came with sufficient vividness into the consciousness of persons in the position of Seneca; but not till much later than Aristotle, probably not before the beginning of our era. On the other hand, we are not to fancy that the thoughts of Seneca received any influence from Christianity.” With this last sentence I do not agree. It seems scarcely reasonable to ignore the power of a system which we know was already exercising attention at Rome; a system of high and holy principles, presenting much for the Stoic mind to admire. That similar thoughts struck Paul the Apostle, and Seneca the philosopher, at the same era, is certain. It was a remarkable coincidence, but it was something more. We know that those thoughts in the mind of the converted Jew were the result, not of self-reflection, nor of communing with his own heart, merely, but of a power outside of himself, more mighty and convincing than any inner influence; but still, acting on a strong mind, already trained in many uncommon and elevating doctrines by Judaism; which had also been training the Roman world to look for something purer and higher than the superstition and vain guesses at truth, which were so prevalent heretofore. When Christianity supplied all the demands of the soul, and gave to the Roman world a divine system of doctrine and