beautiful contrast between the light blue of the sky and the green
of the lawn and trees; and proceeded to remark on the degree in
which the mere organic or sensational pleasures of vision formed an
ingredient in the pleasurable associations of the complex "beautiful."

He gradually resumed conversation; and we discussed the subject of
the "beautiful" for some time. Yet I know not how it was, nor can
I trace the steps by which we deviated,--only that Rousseau's summer
-day dreams on the Lake of Bienne was a link in the chain,--we
somehow soon found ourselves on the brink of the great controversy
respecting the "origin of Evil." "I have read many books on that
subject," said I; "but I intend to read no more; and I should think
you have had enough of them."

"Why, yes," said he, laughing; "whatever philosophers may have thought
of the origin of evil, it is a great aggravation of it to read their
speculations. The best thing I know on the subject--and it exhausts
it--is half a dozen lines in 'Robinson Crusoe.'"

"Robinson Crusoe!" said I.

"Certainly," he replied; "do you not remember that when he caught
his man Friday, the 'intuitional consciousness'--the 'insight'--the
'inward revelation' of that worthy savage not being found quite so
perfect as Mr. Parker would fancy, Robinson proceeds to indoctrinate
him in the mysteries of theology? Friday is much puzzled, as many
more learned savages have been before him, to find that the infinite
power, wisdom, and goodness of God had made every thing good, and
that good it would have continued had not been for the opposition
of the Devil. 'Why God not kill Debbil?' asks poor Friday. On which