there is little hope of any man."

"Come hither, then," answered he. "Here is one theory that swallows
up and annihilates all others."

He led me to a distant part of the hall where a crowd of deeply
attentive auditors were assembled round an elderly man of plain,
honest, trustworthy aspect. With an earnestness that betokened the
sincerest faith in his own doctrine, he announced that the
destruction of the world was close at hand.

"It is Father Miller himself!" exclaimed I.

"No less a man," said my friend; "and observe how picturesque a
contrast between his dogma and those of the reformers whom we have
just glanced at. They look for the earthly perfection of mankind,
and are forming schemes which imply that the immortal spirit will be
connected with a physical nature for innumerable ages of futurity.
On the other hand, here comes good Father Miller, and with one puff
of his relentless theory scatters all their dreams like so many
withered leaves upon the blast."

"It is, perhaps, the only method of getting mankind out of the
various perplexities into which they have fallen," I replied. "Yet I
could wish that the world might be permitted to endure until some
great moral shall have been evolved. A riddle is propounded. Where
is the solution? The sphinx did not slay herself until her riddle
had been guessed. Will it not be so with the world? Now, if it
should be burned to-morrow morning, I am at a loss to know what
purpose will have been accomplished, or how the universe will be