Ri^^V^^■>;^•,-^,^F,^-I.• WSI^ LTBKA.KY OF THK Theological Seminary Pl^INCETON, N. J. RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY; OR, NATURE, MAN, AND THE BIBLE WITNESSING TO GOD AND TO RELIGIOUS TRUTH, BEING THE SUBSTANCE OF FOUR COURSES OF LECTURES DELIVERED BEFORE THE LOWELL INSTITUTE BETWEEN THE YEARS 1845-1853. BY ALONZO POTTER, D.D, LL.D., PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN UNION COLLEGE, AND LATE BISHOP OF PENNSYLVANIA. " God hath sent Nature before us as an Instructress, purposing to send Revelation after, in order that as a disciple of Nature thou mayest more easily hearken to Revelatiou." — TeriuUian. PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1872. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. LippiNcoTT's Press, Philadelphia. CONTENTS. PART I. PRELIMINARY DISCUSSIONS. CHAPTER I. PAGE Introduction 17 I. Object of the work. II. Method. CHAPTER II. Religion founded in the Constitution of Human Nature ... 36 I. The fact. II. The fact explained. CHAPTER III. Illustrations 60 I. Objects considered as religious teachers. II. Events or sequences considered as religious teachers. CHAPTER IV. Critical Discussions loi I. Adaptation or final causes. II. Order and uniformity in sequences as explained by unbelievers. HI. Order and uniformity in sequences as misapprehended by believers. IV. Science and religion. 1. Science and natural religion. 2. Science and revelation. PART II. NATURE A WITNESS. I. Inorganic Nature II. Organic Nature. (iii) iv CONTENTS. BOOK I. INORGANIC NATURE. {^Physics and Chemistry. ) CHAPTER I. PAGE Mechanical Philosophy a Religious Tkacher 179 Motion and Rest. i. Inertia. 2. Friction. 3. Gravity. 4 Heat. 5. Animal Power. CHAPTER II. Chemistry a Relicious Teacher '. . 205 The Laws of — 1. Chemical affinity. 2. Materials on which it acts. 3. Its agency in maintaining the phenomena of animal and vege- table Life. BOOK II. ORGANIC NATURE. ( Physiology — Zoology. ) CHAPTER I. The Life-Power Witnessing to the Divine Existence 229 Nature of life — Materialism — Spontaneous generation — Develop- ment— Insufficiency of any physical theory of vital processes — Or- ganic and inorganic substances contrasted. CHAPTER II. The Life-Power in Nature Illustrative ov Divine Power . . . 246 1. True conception of power — Divine power indicated by the multi- plicity of its creatures in the organic world. 2. Their power to outlive changes and to withstand the assaults of physical foes. CHAPTER III. The Life-Power a Witness for Divine Wisdom 265 1. By constancy of purpose. 2. Indications of intelligent foresight. 3. Exuberance of creative skill. (a) Hereditary transmission, (i) Transmutation of species, (r) Embryotic theory. CONTENTS. V {d) Distribution of species. (^) Unity of the human race. \^ Divine unity, (rt) The whole world of organic nature. {b) What certain portions of the kingdoms have in common. (' order."* 3. Look at objects, again, in their rcscviblanccs and affinities. Everything in nature has that which gives it individuality and makes it different from every other thing. But amidst this end- less diversity there is, at the same time, a pervading corre- spondence and uniformity. Individuals arc found, when com- pared, to have more or less in common, and can therefore be conceived and spoken of as a group, having a common designation or name. Different groups, again, have marks and attributes in common ; and in this way we ascend from species to genus, from genus to order, from order to class, from class to division or kingdom. So pervading is this unity, so numerous the affinities that bind objects together, that the very same individuals can be classified in different ways, ac- cording as we start from one or another character as the basis of the system. As the books in a library may be ar- * Quoted in Powell's Natural and Divine Truth. OBJECTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 65 ranged according to the subjects of which they treat, the languages in which they are written, their size or style of binding, so plants may be classified or arranged by assuming, with Linnaeus, that the organs of reproduction (pistils and stamens) form the proper basis, or by holding, with Jussieu, that the basis of a more just and natural method may be found in more general resemblances and in a greater number of affinities. And it is striking proof how this community of attributes prevails in the vegetable world, that, pursuing Jussieu's method, we can arrange objects, independently, with reference either to external characters, to habits, to properties, to organization, or to functions ; and whichever of these we follow, the resulting classification will be the sarrie. So that Mr. Whewell, in his Philosophy of the In- ductive Sciences, makes it a test of all natural systems of classification, "that an arrangement, obtained from one set of characters, shall coincide with an arrangement obtained from another set,"* Indeed, what is human language, with its multitude of common names, its generic Verbs, Adverbs, Adjectives, and the like, but a transcript of the efforts which men have made at tracing these affinities among all the objects of human thought? With the progress of science, new ones are con- stantly being discovered. They are found to pervade all space, to extend through all time, to comprehend and link together all orders of beings and all varieties of substances. The planets of the solar system, for example, are all alike in figure, and in having motion, as well around their axes as through space. Fixed stars, so distant that light from the nearest of them, though traveling with almost inconceivable velocity, and though it left its bright fountain hundreds of years ago, would not yet have reached us, — these stars are like our Sun, in the light they emit, in the slight obscurations * Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, vol. i. p. 521. 5 66 THE THREE WITNESSES. they experience, in the globular form they take, and some of them, at least, in the gravitation they evince. Geology conducts us into chambers, where the dead of former worlds repose in their marble cerements, and there we find the same organs, the same functions, the same forms, often, as in living animals. Human history carries us back to the infancy of our own race, and shows us, in the slumbering tenants of an Egyptian tomb, or in the sculptured figures on an Egyptian pyramid, that men and animals were formed thousands of years ago as they are formed now. Again, wherever animals are of the same species, they have the same instincts. Wherever men have been found, from the day that their earthly pilgrimage began, there, amid unend- ing diversities of a minor kind, we find the same physical structure, the same mental faculties, the same moral senti- ments. The similitude extends across the gulf that divides sensations even the most unlike, just as it extends across the yet deeper and wider gulf that separates the world of life and intelligence from the inanimate world. Who, for example, would expect to find any affinity between light and sound? And yet — i, they are reflected from hard surfaces according to the same law; 2, the insensibility of a certain place, in the retina of the eye, to light, has its correspondent in a like in- sensibility, which characterizes every human ear to a certain pitch of sound; 3, if the blending of two strong lights can produce apparent darkness, so the simultaneous vibration of two musical strings can produce intervals of absolute silence; 4, in like manner, the sensation of one bright color, seen in an object, is followed, on turning the eye to a white surface, by the sensation of its complemcntal color, just as the sound- ing of a given note on an instrument is instantly followed by those which form a chord, and are hence called the har- monics. Consider also the remarkable affinity which both light and sound have for the same or similar emotions of the mind, and OBJECTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. Qy the new ties of affinity that are thus estabHshed between them. Instinctively in all animals, but especially in man, the voice attunes itself to the state of the mind, the frame of the feel- ings. Joy always seeks utterance through the major key, sadness through the minor. Thus the cuckoo, at the open- ing of spring, when elate with health, gives forth her gladness in the major third; but in autumn, when long incubation has ex- hausted her strength, her notes decline unconsciously into the minor. It is to this instinctive affinity between certain sounds and certain feelings of the mind, that we owe the mighty sway which music has over the soul. The musician wields our passions and sentiments, just in proportion as he copies these natural utterances of the heart when moved to hope or fear, to joy or sorrow, utterances which are no sooner heard than they wake a corresponding chord in the hearer's mind. But sometimes, in the hands of a great master, this noble art takes a yet bolder flight. She assails the heart not merely by representing the emotions that correspond to certain sounds, but by representing those that are awakened by cer- tain colors; in other words, she employs sounds to imitate light and produce its effects on the mind. Thus, for instance, in the Creation of Haydn, with what matchless skill has the composer availed himself of this affinity between light and sound! "The angel begins to relate the great work; we soon come to the passage which describes the creation of Light : And God said. Let there be light. Before this fiat of the Cre- ator, the musician has gradually diminished the chords; he introduces the unison and the piano still growing softer as the suspended cadence approaches ; at last this cadence bursts forth, in the most sonorous manner, at the words — And there was light. This burst of the whole orchestra, on the re- sounding key of C, accompanied with all the harmony pos- sible, and prepared by the gradual fading of the sounds, actually produces upon us, at the first representation, the effect of a thousand torches suddenly flashing light into a 68 THE THREE WITNESSES. dark cavern."* And again, when the artist describes how the Sun appears for the first time, " in all the pomp of the most magnificent spectacle that man's eye can contemplate:" "At the commencement of this symphony, our attention is attracted by a soft streaming note from the violins, which is scarcely discernible, till the rays of sound which issue from the second violin diverge into the chord of the second, to which is gradually imparted a greater fulness of color, as the violas and violoncellos steal in with expanding harmony. At the fifth bar, the oboes begin to shed their mellow lustre, while the flute silvers the mounting rays of the violin. As the notes continue ascending to the highest point of bright- ness, the orange, the scarlet, the purple unite in the increasing splendor, and the glorious orb at length appears retulgent with all the brightest beams of harmony."t Thus it is that we have affinities throughout nature. The sap, the vessels, the leaves of plants, seem to be repeated in the blood, the arteries, the stomach and lungs of animals. The instincts and intelligence of brutes are reproduced, as it were, but in improved form and with the addition of much more exalted powers, in man; and in these natures of ours, even the mighty abyss which separates matter and spirit, those extremes of existence; that, on the one hand, which is inert, solid, extended from that which feels, thinks, and wills, in this, our human nature, even that broad abyss is bridged over; and we have ethereal spirits not only dwelling in houses of clay, but linked to them by mysterious but most intimate ties, so that matter and mind have literally become one. Here, then, is a great fact, — the similitude which prevails among natural objects, whether those objects be material or immaterial. If all these objects be the work of one mind and one creating hand, it is the result we should expect. As * Gardiner, author of the " Music of Nature." •)■ Gardiner. See notes to Life of Haydn. OBJECTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. gg every specimen of man's workmanship bears traces of the mind that designed and the hand that executed, and as in cases where one mind has produced different works, we ex- pect to find them all pervaded by common principles and marked by common characteristics ; so, if there be one great Intelligent First Cause, of whom man's soul is the faint and insignificant, yet real transcript, we should expect, in like manner, that wherever, throughout the Universe, that Infinite and Eternal Spirit expresses himself in material or spiritual works, there would be traces of his own character or style, affinities binding together objects apparently the most dis- similar. It is like looking upon a vast army dispersed over an encampment. At first all seems confusion; but, as we pass along, we see the same colors, the same fashions, reap- pearing in dift'erent dresses. We find here blue, there red, there green and gray. Similar colors in dress are marked by similar styles and forms, and perhaps by similar equip- ment in every respect. In different parts of the encampment, where certain characteristics seem most prevalent, there pe- culiar ensigns and emblazonments float over the tents. This repetition of the same dress and accoutrements gives us that idea which we express by the word uniform, and, in our imagination, we can marshal this great host into separate groups, each designated by its own ensign, costume, and weapons. Now, we cannot help ascribing such a prevalence of uniformity, in the midst of variety, to an Intelligent, per- sonal will. Did we witness it for the first time, the inference would still be clear and irresistible that such order could have its origin in nothing but design. The suggestion that all this may be necessary or accidental, we at once reject as we do the supposition that it has been or might have been always thus. So with the world without and within. Admit that one great Being has framed and fashioned all that we behold, or are conscious of, and then these graduated resem- blances, this recurrence, under circumstances the most dis- 70 THE THREE WITNESSES. similar, and at periods and places the most remote, of the same properties, the same organs, the same functions, is all explained. Suppose, on the other hand, that there has been at work no intelligence, no design, or that two opposing Powers, or many independent ones, have been at work, and in that case these resemblances, analogies, and affinities consti- tute nothing less than a vast enigma. 4. Look at objects again in respect to their adaptations. Whether we consider individuals, classes, or kingdoms, the adaptations are alike wonderful and manifold. In the Indi- vidual, part is adjusted to part, — each to its neighbor and to every other part. In animals, for example, the mouth is adapted to the teeth, the teeth to the stomach, the stomach to the viscera, the viscera to the absorbents, the absorbents to the blood-vessels, the blood-vessels to the lungs, the lungs to the muscles, the muscles to the bones, the bones to each other, and to the size, weight, and habits of the animal. And these are but the hundredth or rather the thousandth part of the wonderful adjustments which may be found in the body of the smallest animal; adjustments, too, which arc in the last degree perfect and exact. " If the viscera^' says Cu- vier, " are so organized as only to be fitted for the digestion of recent flesh, the jatvs will be found to be so constructed as to fit them for devouring prey; the claivs, for seizing and tearing it in pieces ; the teeth, for cutting and dividing the flesh ; the entire system of the limbs or organs of motion, for pursuing or overtaking it, and the organs of sense, for discover- ing it at a distance. Nature will have also endowed the brain of the animal with instincts sufficient for concealing itself, and for laying plans to catch its necessary victims." So con- stant are these adaptations that, according to the same great naturalist, "when we find merely the extremity of a well-pre- served bone we are able, by a careful examination, assisted by analogy and exact comparison, to determine the species to which it belonged as certainly as if we had the entire OBJECTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 71 animal before us." Cuvier may have sometimes pushed this principle too far; but the splendid discoveries in fossil anatomy, which he achieved by its aid, show that it has a firm founda- tion in nature. If we pass from individuals to different systems, whether of inorganic or of living organized beings, we shall be still more deeply impressed with these adaptations, as indicative of an intelligent purpose, since they exist bettveen tilings naturally separated and independent of each other, and the adaptations cannot be imputed therefore to an)^ natural cause or opera- tion. Not only is system adapted to system, but each system seems to be preadjusted with reference to innumerable other systems. Not to multiply illustrations, let us take a single case. Here is man, — observe the manner in which relations have been established between him and the whole outward world, animate and inanimate: — i. His vital functions need the stimulus of oxygen, and we accordingly find oxygen dis- tributed around the globe, and properly diluted by mixture with another gas. He has lungs adapted to inspiring it, and an apparatus through which it is brought to act on the blood. 2. Man sustains life by food as well as air: therefore food has been provided; hands with which to gather it; skill to prepare it ; teeth to cut it if it be flesh, to grind it if it be vegetable substance ; various solvents to decompose it, and, by a mysterious chemistry, to elaborate from it the proper nutri- ment-absolvents to carry this nutriment to the arteries; ar- teries to convey it throughout the body; other vessels, some to seize on such portions of it as are fitted for bone, some on such as are fitted for muscle, and to convey each its load to the proper place; while, again, another distinct class of organs are employed in surrendering and carrying to the out- lets of the system all material which has become useless or noxious. And so of other functions. 3. Does man need light? It comes darting towards him with fearful haste from all quarters of space, from all terrestrial objects, from the 72 THE THREE WITNESSES. Moon and planets, from the Sun and fixed stars. And when it comes, it finds an organ fitted to seize upon it and guide its course, to converge its scattered rays, to shut out its too in- tense cfTfulgcncc, and to spread a surface on which, in an instant of time, it can daguerreotype a mimic panorama of all that it looks upon, — a panorama that outvies the utmost stretch of any human skill. And these impressions on the organs of sense, how do they wake up in the depths of the soul corre- sponding perceptions, remembrances, emotions! Or, again, does man need — 4, intelligence from others framed and organized like himself or even from inferior animals? Every gesture, every natural sound, has its significance. The hu- man face, moreover, has been written all over with signs of what is at work within; while a few insignificant bones and membranes have been so adjusted in the human mouth and throat that the most abstract conceptions of man's soul, the most tender sentiments, the most burning thoughts, can be delivered to their keeping, and straightway they are carried h'terally on the wings of the wind (for vibratory impulses of the air are the invisible but faithful messengers that bear them to their destination); they are thus borne, with quick dispatch, to the ear and heart of one, or to the ears and hearts of thousands. Who can trace that series .of mechanical ad- justments by which thought, conceived in the secret cham- bers of the soul, is made vocal and audible? Who can mark how the organs of utterance are adapted to the air, and the air again to the organs of hearing, without feeling that here \s, skill amazing and Divine ? Paralyze the auditory nerve but slightly, and the great Babel becomes silent, — the voice even of familiar friendship cannot reach and stir our hearts ! Para- lyze the optic nerve, and all the radiance that is poured from the Sun even at noonday fails to make one feature visible on the face of those we most fondly love ! On the other hand, project into the blood-vessels that lie along or around this optic or auditory nerve more than their due share of blood, OBJECTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 73 and in one case even the mellowest light of day becomes a source of agony; in the other, sounds which usually would be music to the ear seem now to torture it. And is it without design that all has been so nicely graduated? Is it but the work of some blind, unintelligent necessity? If adjustments and adaptations like these do not indicate creative foresight, if there be not here tokens palpable and irrefragable that a Creator as wise and powerful as benevolent has been at work, then let the skeptic say what proof he would have. Let him say what measure of evidence will be sufficient to vanquish his unbelief, and enable him to see in the world around him or in that within him the presence of a God. Consider, again, how precisely adapted to the ivants and mental powers of man are those affinities and resemblances throughout nature which form the basis of classification. No man can know all objects belonging to even one department of knowledge, such as Botany, — few men can learn many things. Most wise and benignant, then, is the provision which has made one object, if well selected, the representative of many, and has even connected different species by such re- semblances and analogies that the knowledge of one is to a great extent a knowledge of hundreds. Take an example from the vegetable kingdom : " In the tribe Cruciferce, con- sisting of about nine hundred species, the study of the com- mon radish, the mustard, or the cress will give the student a very accurate general knowledge of the remaining eight hun- dred and ninety-nine, because they are all close modifications of the same forms. Again, the common potato, rightly understood, represents the greater part of Solanacece, or at least of some hundred species belonging to that tribe ; while the dead nettle, Lajuiuni albu7n or rubrum, stands as the repre- sentative of some fifteen hundred or sixteen hundred species called Labiatce." This would be of eminent importance and most pointedly indicative of Divine contrivance and good- ness, though its advantages extended no further; but when it 74 THE THREE WITNESSES. is considered that the properties of plants accord also in a very remarkable manner with their structure, and that those which are most closely approximated in a classification most nearly resemble one another in their sensible properties, qualities, and uses, the benevolence of the adaptation becomes doubly im- pressive. For example, to recur to the first illustration, "any person acquainted with Criiciferm would know that there is no instance of a poisonous or deleterious plant in that tribe; a point of great importance to be aware of On the contrary, he would know that, if they had succulent roots, they might be employed like the radish, and that their leaves are anti- scorbutic; but if he met with an unknown plant, which, from its resemblance to the potato, he knew belonged to Soiajiacecs, he would at once reject it as poisonous, or at least suspicious, unless it had tubers filled with faecula, when he would accept that portion, because all faecula is wholesome, however poi- sonous the trees or plants may otherwise be that produce it, provided the deleterious matter that lies among it is re- moved by washing or volatilized by the action of heat."* In this way we have, in the classifications of Natural History, regarded by many as empty and pedantic, a clc7v to the prop- erties and uses of bodies ; while they form conclusive evidence of that uniformity throughout nature which is the legitimate manifestation of one presiding Intelligence. 5, But we pass to the last point to be considered in respect to objects, ivlictJicr material or immaterial, and that is their CAUSE or ORIGIN. We have already considered them in re- spect to their unchanging and unchangeable properties, their prevailing symmetry, their manifold reseviblauces and affinities, and their wonderful adaptations to each other and to man's welfare, and we have seen that each of these points distinctly to the idea of a Supreme Cause, All-wise, powerful and good. But the same conclusion can be reached, when reasoning from ♦ Lindley. OBJECTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 75 objects, in yet another way. Whence came these objects? Are ihey self-existent ? If not, whence did they derive their origin ? " I exist," to borrow the language of another ; " I am not the author of my own existence. I ask only these two proposi- tions to convince me that there is an Eternal Self-existent Being, — for if I be not the author of my own existence, I owe it to another being ; that being to whom I owe my existence derives his from himself, or, like me, he owes it to another. If he exists of himself, behold the Eternal Being whom I have been seeking, — if he derives his existence from another, I reason about him as about the former. Thus I ascend till I arrive at that Being who exists of himself and who hath al- ways so existed."* If, for myself, I substitute another being or substance (animal, vegetable, or mineral), from that being we shall be compelled to ascend, in like manner, till we reach the same Eternal Self-subsisting Cause ; and so from whatever part of the wide universe our reasonings may start, they all converge towards the self-same centre, and rest at last in Him, who as the author and upholder of all existence must be as Infinite in power as he is eternal in duration. And such a Being must be a Spirit. We cannot conceive of a Self-ex- istent Eternal Being, the Creator and Ruler of all worlds, as incorporated with a substance inert, extended, solid, gross- like matter. There is a sense, indeed, in which, adopting the language, though not the notions, of Spinoza, we may speak of the material universe as the body of the Deity. As we call those portions of matter, which we more immediately actuate and direct, our bodies, so God actuates by his will every part of the universe. He obscures the Sun, He calms the winds, He commands the sea. But, in the judgment of Spinoza, the universe constitutes God, the essence of all existence is his essence. Whereas the Theist holds that God constituted the universe, that it is pervaded everywhere by his presence and * Saurin. 76 THE THREE WITNESSES. power, being entirely dependent on Him, while He is perfectly independent of it. As an object that exists must have a cause, so the character of the object is an index to the character of that cause. Thus we reach, from considering all objects together, the idea of one common and supreme cause of all things, and we see that that cause must be purely spiritual, self- existent, and eternal. In the nature of these objects, in their fixed properties, symmetries, affinities, and adaptations, we see evidence also that this Creator must be benevolent and wise. Nor is this all: objects in nature proclaim the moral rectitude as well as goodness of God. For in proportion as man is in- dustrious in cultivating and using his own powers, in propor- tion as he is sober, temperate, chaste, upright, in the same proportion natural objects become to him a source of greater and greater benefit and blessing. Thus even material substances serve to show that the Being from whom they emanate prefers virtue to vice, — that his government is on the side of morality; or, in other words, judging the agent from his acts and appoint- ments, we are constrained to infer that the First Cause of all material substances must be a holy Being, who smiles on the good and frowns on the evil. And what force and impress- iveness does this inference derive from a consideration of cer- tain spiritual objects, — certain instincts, notions, and sentiments in our own souls! " He that made the eye, shall He not see? He that planted the ear, shall He not hear? He that teacheth man knowledge, shall He not know ?" This argument to prove the wisdom and omniscience of the Deity has the sanction of inspired wisdom. And may it not be extended? He that formed conscience, that moral eye of the soul ! — He that planted self-respect, the sense of honor, that spiritual organ so quick to catch the sound of impending contamination, — He that gave that delicate moral tact which outruns the tardy opera- tions of reason, — He that scourges the soul of the guilty man EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS, yy with fear and self-reproach, and gives to the good man, in dis- grace or sorrow, "a peace above all earthly dignities," can He be less than a Holy Being, a sin-hating and sin-avenging God ? Could a Being, not holy, thus implant in his creatures instincts and sentiments to be his own reproach? And then that irrepressible sentiment which urges all men to revere and worship, — that notion so deep seated of a boundless per- fection coupled with Personality, — that idea of the absolute, the infinite, and the just, — where can these find their source or centre but in a God of Infinite moral excellency and dignity? SECTION II, EVENTS OR SEQUENCES CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. We have now considered Objects as we find them in the material and mental worlds, and have indicated some of the religious lessons which they afford. We proceed to examine Events or Sequences from the same point of view, — we shall find that they, too, are distinguished by constancy, by sym- tnetry, by affinity or resemblance, and by numberless exact and beautiful adaptations. I. Constancy. — Objects, whether material or immaterial, are rarely stationary. The universe is full of changes or events. They occur in all directions and under innumerable forms ; and yet, in the main, they are constant and orderly, moving forward in what for practical purposes may be re- garded as unvarying succession. Though the series seem to cross each other at every point, and each one is compli- cated by many conditions, yet there is no widespread chaos, there is little of conflict or confusion. Wherever the same concurring antecedents present themselves, the same con- sequents follow. Thus a true history of the past, in man or nature, becomes in one sense a clear prophecy of the 78 THE THREE WITNESSES. future. Man seeks, according to Bacon, to interpret Nature tliat he may serve her, and he serves that he may master her. He Hterally stoops to conquer, humbles himself that he may be exalted. The movements of the universe for the future can be divined only by ascertaining her operations in times past; and her mighty energies can be enlisted in man's behalf only in proportion as he understands and respects their pe- culiar properties and modes of acting. Were not natural sequences substantially fixed and uniform, it would be im- possible either to foresee them or to render them to so great an extent subservient to man's welfare. 2. Symmetry. — As this is a marked characteristic of objects, so it is also of sequences, whether physical or psychological. Look at the waves of the sea as they roll in succession to the shore and crest themselves into beautiful wreaths just as they break and disappear. Listen to the solemn cadences of the winds or waterfalls, or to the deep murmurs of the ocean, nature's great orchestra. Look at the counter-currents of clouds, moving in silent harmony along the sky, and that constant recurrence of motions, progressive and retrograde, among the celestial orbs, which suggested to the ancients the idea of music among the spheres. Look even at the alterna- tions of heat and cold, rain and sunshine, wind and calm, regulated at first sight by no law, yet serving as variations in the universal anthem, or as shadows on the vast picture of nature. Look at currents of vapor ascending from the earth, redressed by the descent of equal quantities of rain ; and the sea yielding to the land, through evaporation, just as much as it receives back through its countless tributaries. Consider opposite and equal polarities in Magnetism and Electricity, and the attractions in all matter counterbalanced or restrained by equal repulsions. Consider action in me- chanics, always set off against an equal and contrary reaction; and that play of affinities in chemistry, where opposing en- ergies seem ever ready to rush together, and, like opposing EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS, jg hosts in war, lay in strife a foundation for future union and concord. We trace this principle of symmetry everywhere. The vital fluid generally circulates in counter and equal currents; matter acts on mind, mind on matter. The selfish passions are counteracted by the social, imagination by reason, pru- dence by conscience, impulse by deliberation. The intellect reasons by induction and by deduction, — conscience decides by instinct and by reflection, — memory reproduces spon- taneously and also by voluntary effort, — imagination sports in airy fancies or combines with reference to the actual and the intended. Thus throughout nature we have harmony of correspondents or opposites. At one time union by original similarity and agreement, at another the product of conflict and strife, yet in each case tending to ultimate equilibrium in the material and moral worlds. 3. Resemblances and Affinities. — That this is a character- istic of sequences or events in the natural and moral worlds must be obvious to the most uninstructed eye. We need, however, the powerful glasses which Science supplies in order to discern more adequately the order and economy of the system to which we belong. They enable us to distinguish between the fixed and the casual, and they reveal to us those more latent, yet often more essential, affinities, which bind together phenomena apparently the most unlike. Consider, then, the process of classifying and generalizing facts, which is the foundation of all safe induction in Science. It shows that the resemblances and affinities which we have found characterizing objects are equally characteristic of events. Gradually we learn to distinguish between cases of casual juxtaposition and those of stated and permanent succession. Different sequences, which are ascertained to be fixed, are then compared, and are found to have more or less in common. Ever bent on simplifying his view of phenomena, and finding unity among all the objects of thought, man thus 8o THE THREE WITNESSES. pursues, in respect to events, the same course as in respect to objects. He gathers them into distinct groups, and the char- acteristic mark of each group being enunciated in language becomes a laiv. And as in classifying objects we ascend from species to genus, from genus to order, and thus onward, so it is found in generalizing facts we can mount from those less comprehensive to those more so, till we reach some wide and far-reaching principle, which seems to prevail throughout the universe, and stand as the type of one Infinite mind. Such a principle, in the material world, has been brought to light by the genius of Newton. It remains for subsequent inquirers to unfold, in the spheres of physiology and psy- chology, principles corresponding, in their simplicity and comprehensiveness, to this law of gravitation, — principles which shall be found to regulate all the functions of organized substances and all the varieties of mental activity. And even when this shall have been accomplished, we know not that the work of generalization will be completed. The great mathematician. La Grange, is said to have looked with sad- ness upon what he termed the good fortune of Newton, "be- cause," said he, " the system of the world can be discovered but once." But is this so ? Has Newton exhausted the sub- ject? Has he reached the last and highest generalization ? Even in the material universe, is there not reason to anticipate that agents like heat, electricity, and magnetism, once re- garded as independent both of each other and of gravitation, may all be found at last, in common with gravitation, to be but modifications of a single principle still more comprehen- sive ? Or, again, is it altogether incredible that, in the progress of future discoveries, there may be unfolded some principle or analogy of still wider generality, — one that shall be found to extend alike over matter, over organized life, and over mind; that, as all these have been united and blended in one being, Man, so it may be found that one great idea or archetype EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS, gl stretches its sceptre over all the countless and diversified phenomena that occur around and within us ? The lessons which Science now reads, respecting the order and harmony of the universe, are poor and meagre when compared with those she is destined to read hereafter. In some departments she has only just begun to unfold the vast volume, which will be found inscribed throughout with evidences of Eternal Power and Godhead. Who doubts that she is to advance in this work with accelerated speed ? All that she has achieved heretofore only fits her for deeper re- searches, for bolder tentatives; and who shall say that, in her future career, she is ever to reach a point where it can be truly said. Thus far shalt thou come and no farther? Subjects there may be which must, from their very nature, be forever in- scrutable to our view, because they have been placed beyond the ken of intuition or consciousness, of observation or analysis. But within the limits prescribed for the applica- tion of these means of investigation, who does not feel that an inexhaustible world of truth spreads out before us; and that however high the intellect may soar, or however deep it may dive, or however far it may wing its untiring flight, it will leave an immense expanse still unexplored, so that there will be full employment for all its powers throughout an end- less duration? Infinite truth, and a mind that has illimitable and insatiate cravings for its light, do not these point towards a source at once Infinite and Intelligent? And then consider the manner in which future discoveries are to be achieved. It is by employing, with sagacity and unyielding industry, all the discoveries and inventions of the past. We know more than our ancestors, because, as Bacon said, we are older than they. To our brief term of life we add the sum of all theirs who have toiled successfully for the in- struction of mankind in past time, and who have bequeathed to us the fruits of their toil. They and we look on the same face of Nature. They and we thread our way through laby- 6 82 THE THREE WITNESSES. rinths under the guidance of the same assumed principles. However dissimilar the case, which we examine from any yet discovered, we still reason from the known to the unknown, assured that one general system, one unique and character- istic style, prevails throughout the universe, and that undis- covered truths will be found crowded with analogies and resemblances to those which are already discovered. And this assurance, what is it in truth but the assurance that that Beinsf, who is the source and centre of all worlds and all events, is never inconsistent with Himself, and sends forth therefore no works that are essentially incongruous ? These instinctive assumptions of analogy between all truth, dis- covered and undiscovered, are sometimes abused; but the fact is incontestable, and it is one which seems to us full of significance. 4. Adaptations. — In surveying sequences or laws, we may consider them both in their adjustment to each other and in their adaptation to the welfare of our race and of all terrestrial beings. These sequences are independent of each other. Mechanical and chemical changes would go on though there were no life on the earth, and plants and animals would live though there were no men. Here, then, are four independent worlds, each interpenetrating and being adapted to the rest. The soil, air, and water yield nourishment to vegetables, — vegetables sustain animals, — animals are food for man. A poisonous gas is given out by animals in respiration ; it is snatched up by plants as necessary food, and as if to save man from its deleterious effects. Light and heat are essential to the vegetable and animal worlds. Great magazines of each have been provided and stationed throughout all nature. Each is propagated in virtue of its own intrinsic buoyancy, and the atmosphere is so formed that each passes unob- structed throughout its whole extent. So in the mental and moral worlds. How admirably perception is adapted to judgment, and both to memory, and all to imagination! EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 83 How the passions and emotions are adjusted in respect to the intellect, and all subordinated to conscience ! How habit is connected with voluntary action, and both with passive sus- ceptibilities ! How the selfish and social affections conspire to promote both the happiness of the individual and the wel- fare of society! And even when we compare the physical and moral worlds, we find that they are not without their mutual fitnesses. Impressions from external objects rouse the dormant intellect and quicken the sluggish sentiments. They inform us of what exists and transpires without ; and muscular mo- tion, directed by intellect, enables us to react upon this outer world, and to modify both its objects and its events. Earth yields her increase only to labor, that promotes health and develops intellect; and man, who does not live by bread alone, finds that in elaborating from the raw material, fur- nished by nature or provided by art, the fabrics which are to warm and decorate his person, or the edifices which are to shelter him from heat and cold, he is at the same time laying the foundation of laws and civilization, and contributing to improve himself, his neighbor, and the world. {a) But, to be more particular, consider first Physical Sequences or Laws. Take, as an example, the law that bodies expand or contract in volume according as they are more or less heated. This law is pregnant with blessings throughout nature. Suspend it and no water would be con- verted into vapor, no vapor would be condensed into showers, no currents of air from colder regions would flow in to temper our too fervid summer heat; nor in the winter would milder breezes from the warm and sunny South come to allay the fierceness of our cold. The very exceptions to this law are full of benefit to man and to all living creatures. Water, in passing below forty degrees of Fahrenheit, ceases to contract, and suddenly ex- pands, so as to render a given volume of water larger when frozen than when in its liquid state. Now, mark how this 84 THE THREE WITNESSES. very exception to a great and all-comprehending law is intro- duced, as it were, on purpose, and adapted to produce the utmost good. It renders ice specifically lighter than water, so that it floats upon the surface instead of sinking to the bottom, in successive layers, till the whole of the stream or lake being conerealed into one solid mass, no summer's sun would suf- fice to thaw it out. Look, again, at the effect of this excep- tion in the case of rocks. Expanded by heat, their pores and fissures are thrown open to water, which insinuates itself into their interior, and then, when winter comes, this water, being frozen, expands, and like a mighty wedge splits off great fragments, as well as lesser portions, and thus contributes to that rapid disintegration of rock which is necessary to re- plenish a soil constantly wasted by the flow of streams bear- ing its minutest particles towards the ocean. In addition to the agency of this expansive power of heat in the atmosphere and on the surface of the globe, there is every reason to believe that it is the same principle, in the form of central heat within our earth, which, from time to time, heaves up islands, continents, and mountain chains, and thus ex- poses, for the use and benefit of man, those great layers of mineral wealth which would otherwise be inaccessible, and which are rich in contributions to human welfare. The same cause probably occasioned those violent irruptions of the sea, sweeping over whole continents, of which we have striking traces in immense boulders of rock removed far from their parent seat, in deeply worn channels, and in widely scattered drift. But we do little justice to the wisdom and benignity of these adaptations unless we look beyond nature to art. Every established sequence is useful, in the ordinary course of events, when undisturbed by man. But its usefulness becomes ten- fold more apparent when we consider how industry, guided by knowledge, can reproduce these sequences, or can divert them from their natural channels, in order to make them EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 85 obedient and all-bountiful agents of specific good to man. Thus, with the law we have just mentioned, the wheelwright, by means of the expansive power of heat, binds on his tire, the founder rolls out his iron, the architect braces up his walls, the servant kindles and maintains his fire. But above all, the steam-engine — second only to the printing-press as a mechanical benefactor to mankind — is but a means of apply- ing to man's service and benefit this simple law that heat expands bodies. And so with every physical law : it goes forth through all nature working countless benefits. But it goes also offering a perpetual challenge to man's ingenuity, industry, persever- ance, justice, and love of happiness. It says to him, " Here am I ready to be yoked to your triumphal-car, and to con- tribute to your dominion over nature ; here am I ready to toil in raising your food, fabricating your raiment, rearing your edifices, building your roads, spanning your rivers, cheapening your knowledge and bearing it to and fro with the velocity of the winds; but, then, you must study to know my nature and properties. You must tax invention that those properties may be employed aright; you must use vigilance in superintending my toils; and you must see that peace and justice reign, so that my products may be dispensed abroad, and may carry comfort and happiness to the remotest ham- lets of your own and other lands. I will be your patient slave and benefactor, but only on conditions. You must serve a probation of inquiry, research, experiment, till you establish a right to me; and that right you can retain, in its highest perfection, only so long as you pay some heed to the great moral law that enjoins industry, foresight, self-restraint, and justice." What is true, then, of the law that heat expands bodies is true of every physical sequence. In the order and economy of nature each is a source of blessing; but each becomes yet more fruitful in such blessing through the art and industry 36 THE THREE WITNESSES. of man. Indeed, the usifiil arts are but the appHcation to specific purposes of natural laws and properties. In propor- tion as these laws are comprehended and respected, just in that proportion does industry triumph over difficulties and achieve advantages, economizing time, saving labor and ma- terial, and at the same time improving products. Thus every law in Physics and Chemistry summons man to study that he may understand, and to understand that he may employ it. Benefits and blessings unnumbered he receives through these laws without intervention of his own ; but it must awaken our gratitude and admiration that he has it in his power to augment these benefits, almost without limit; that he is not left to be a mere passive recipient of the good he enjoys, but is called to study these agents and prime movers of nature to co-operate with them, to guard against the incidental evils they may occasion, and thus to enlarge and multiply his physical enjoyments by the very means that develop his intel- lectual and moral powers. What, indeed, can be more in- dicative of Infinite Goodness, Wisdom, and Holiness than the fact, too little considered, that, on the whole, the improvement of our physical, intellectual, and moral condition is one and, in some sense, indivisible; that man cannot advance the useful arts without enlarging the range of human knowledge and thought, and thus adding to the moral as well as to the physical resources of his race; and that no individual can ever practice one of these arts unless he observes some of those higher laws that tend to refine and exalt our whole being ? {b) It is the same with intellectual laws. Take, for ex- ample, the law of Sjtggcstion or Association, by which one thought in the mind always leads to another somehow re- lated to it, — the relation being sometimes casual, sometimes real and philosophical. How manifold the blessings of which this law is the agent and minister! It keeps the mind always peopled with objects, though ever so much bent on idleness and vacancy. Through those objects it holds out lures to in- EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 87 quiry and reflection, perhaps also to action. It carries us back, even against our will, to the past, with its remembrances that ought to excite shame and amendment, with its lessons of dear-bought experience, with its stirring notes that warn of danger or animate to duty. It bears us onward in thought to the future, and sketches all the probable and possible of our coming destiny, or it conducts us towards the borders of un- known truth, and invites us to investigate and to reflect. It invests every object and event with hues borrowed from abroad ; and thus it contributes, if the mind be well regu- lated, the life innocent and useful, and the faith heavenward, to gild with sunshine all our way through this earthly pil- grimage. Here again we find that the law becomes doubly useful when understood and applied by man. In the hands, for ex- ample, of the Painter, the Poet, the Orator, the Dramatist, the principle of Suggestion or Association is a wand of enchant- ment, which he has but to wave aright and images of beauty or tenderness, of terror or mirthfulness, of sublimity or mean- ness, come thronging before the mind. As the useful arts consist in applying physical laws and properties to the pur- poses of man's subsistence and comfort, so the liberal arts are methods which have been invented of applying psychological laws to the higher purpose of convincing the understanding, of awakening the imagination, of moving the affections and passions, of gratifying the taste or regulating the life. And as in the Fine Arts, so also in the education of the young, in the culture and development of his own nature, in all the inter- course of life, when he would apply influence to others or dispense happiness as he moves abroad; everywhere, in fact, there is occasion to employ these intellectual laws, and benefit or injury will attend our steps and attest our agency accord- ing as we employ them well or ill, understanding or mistaking their true nature, using or abusing their almost boundless in- fluence. 88 THE THREE WITNESSES. [c) So with MORAL LAWS. Take, for example, the great law of forbearance and forgiveness. This law bids us, instead of retaliating or merely punishing an injury, to overcome evil with good. It requires us to place ourselves in the attitude of a friend and benefactor towards the injurious; and even when we inflict punishment, to do it in the spirit of kindness, while we extend not a cold forgiveness only but active bene- fits also. Slow as mankind have been to understand and apply this law to social and civil relations, there are places where it has always asserted its authority. In all ages of the world, and in all states of society, a parent's heart has owned it with an instinct which outstripped every deduction of logic as well as every mandate of authority. How many millions of mothers, who never heard of the great law of love, nor of that matchless illustration of it which was presented in the life and death of Christ, have still toiled long and patiently for a thankless and deeply offending child! Not only without being distinctly recognized by men, but, we might almost say, with- out their intervention, this law has still wrought out bless- ings ! Many a child owes to it a care, which he long since forfeited by his misdeeds, — and to care, so bestowed and per- severed in, when all was provocation, how many a child owes it also that his heart has at length been touched with com- punctions of remorse, — and he has been brought back an humble prodigal to a parent's fond embrace ! What stripes could not effect has been achieved by the deep devotion, the exhaustless forbearance, of one whose love could outlive and outlabor all perverseness and ingratitude. And not in the parent's heart alone has God set up this sentiment to be his own representative. Often has the meekness and patient assiduity of a son or daughter — continued when all in return was unkindness or injustice — melted down the obduracy of a profligate and unprincipled father. Often has the wife, hoping against hope, toiling on amidst neglect and contumely and deep wrong from him who was pledged to cherish and pro- EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 89 tect her, — how often has this, her return of good for evil, fallen like coals of fire upon the transgressor's head, and subdued him at length to repentance and a better mind ! Thus has a mighty, unreflecting instinct achieved in the domestic circle what reason and deliberate effort only can accomplish elsewhere. When we deal with convicts in our prisons, with sots in their debasement, with females lost through licentiousness, above all, with those who have wronged, defamed, or insulted us, we have then no all-power- ful instincts urging us to forbearance and love. Then we can appeal only to the energies of our higher nature, and must impose, through the stern mandate of the will, a restraint upon our passions. Hence we, too often, give way to moral indignation, and visiting offenders only with retribution or re- taliation, we rouse resistance and fortify the spirit of trans- gression, when we may have only aimed to awe and to subdue. It is since we learned to enter the prison-house with a parent's heart, with something of the forbearance of an injured wife, — since, with intense displeasure at the sin, we have come to couple and to manifest cordial good will and compassion towards the sinner, — that we have begun to triumph over the spirit of stout resistance which once reigned there, and have converted the reformation of criminals from a mere dream of Utopian philanthropy into a heart-cheering fact. Thus, then, do moral lazvs become sources of blessing in proportion as we understand and apply them. Useful arts, as we have seen, are the application, by man's intelligence, of physical lazvs to usefiil purposes, just as the liberal arts are the applicatioji to corre- sponding but higher purposes o{ psychological lazvs. But here we have another class of arts which might be termed moral arts, and which, in their manifold operations, are but so many adaptations, made by man, of the Creator's moral laws in order to advance human welfare. We have thus dwelt upon laws, or sequences, as adapted in a twofold respect to display the divine wisdom and goodness : QO THE THREE WITNESSES. first, as they conduce, of themselves, to the enjoyment of men and animals ; and secondly, as their natural utility admits of indefinite increase throu^^h the agency of man. The last is a view not often dwelt upon in books ; but it is one which can hardly fail to suggest itself to a thoughtful mind in this day of victorious industry, rendered yet more victorious a thousand- fold through the application of science. Aided by a knowl- edge of natural laws, labor is constantly augmenting the means and appliances of human welfare, and thus a boundless field spreads out before us, where man, in achieving new triumphs for himself, unfolds new views of a wisdom which could fore- see, and a kindness and power which could provide for such a progress. The very difference, in this respect, between man and animals, how indicative of infinite goodness ! Animals, from the first, avail themselves with unerring precision of those properties in bodies, and those mechanical and chemi- cal laws, which affect most nearly their well-being. Man reaches this accuracy only after many mistakes ; but, then, in reaching it, what stores of experience does he not gain, and what developments does he not give to those intellectual and moral powers which form his glory here, and which, if duly improved, are to be his crown of honor and rejoicing here- after ! Animals, left from early infancy without parental guidance, and devoid of that discourse of reason which looks before and after, need intuition and unerring instincts. Man, on the other hand, endowed as he is with this high faculty ; placed, too, for years under pupilage, and destined for an endless future, in which character is to determine condition, and previous voluntary acts and habits are to determine char- acter,— man needs to be placed on probation even in respect to his physical powers, and to reach the perfection of his lot only through a painful but instructive path, that taxes all his energies, but which, if duly trodden, renders every effort subservient to the exaltation of his nature and his condition. Thus, again, in this admirable adaptation of our state to our EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 91 mental conformation and to our ultimate well-being, does the Most High give us assurance of his parental care. Is it said that this regularity of sequences, with its adapta- tion to useful purposes, may all be imputed to a necessary connection between the successive terms in the series and be- tween them and the ends attained, — as in plants, the various parts may be regarded as the natural and necessary develop- ment of one common principle or organ? Admit for a moment (to adopt this example) that the modern doctrine of a meta- morphosis of organs in Botany is true ; suppose that all parts of a plant can be traced back to one common type, and be viewed as different developments of one rudimentary organ, such as the leaf: still, the manner in which these different parts are modified, so as to correspond to the several purposes they answer, furnish most impressive evidences of design. There is, however, much more than this. You hold in your hand a flower. Concede to the morphologist that the beautiful petals of the corolla are but leaves reduced in size, thinned and colored ; concede that the stamen is a leaf whose petiole is represented by the filament, while the two lobes of the anther are the two sides of its lamina; concede that the pollen is disintegrated mesophyll, and so on, — nay, concede, what few philosophical botanists would demand, that the wonderful manner in which this rudimentary organ is metamorphosed, so as to answer with precision so many and such various pur- poses, proves nothing of creative foresight, but all may be ascribed to a necessary law : still, how much remains to be explained ! On tracing down the stalk from which that flower was plucked, you find that its roots and root-fibres are adapted to the double purpose of giving firm footing in the soil and of absorbing from it different substances, solid, liquid, and aeri- form ; that it has organs fitted perfectly for the circulation of those substances, and for their conversion into different parts of the plant ; that the size and weight of the flower corre- spond to the size of the stalk, and the whole together to the 92 THE THREE WITNESSES. Strength and stability of the base, and all these again to the size of the earth. We observe, again, that while the roots are thus admirably adjusted w ith respect to the earth, the leaves are no less admirably adapted to the action of light, of air, and of moisture. That light, for example, not only serves, as it falls on the leaf, to rouse its dormant energies and quicken the process of vegetable assimilation, but that it is reflected from that leaf to an eye so formed as to derive pleasure alike from the color and the form ; that the odoriferous particles of the flower again seem to have been constituted with reference to the air through which they pass, and to the sensitive organ on which they fall. And lastly, we observe that all this external and material mechanism corresponds, in a manner the most wonderful, to the spiritual principle within us ; that one glance at this flower, with one sensation of its fragrance, is enough to awaken pleasure in the deepest depths of the soul ; that it can carry the thoughts, as if by enchantment, far away from the present to some paradise of happy memories or of fancied de- light,— to the garden where we roamed in childhood, to some island of the blest, the creation of poetry, or to that fairer scene, where " Airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on eternal Spring." In all these adaptations between substances so independent, so dissimilar, resulting in effects so beneficent, who does not see the hand of a Being as wonderful in counsel as He is mighty in working? Exceptions there may be to the benefi- cence of these results. Instances rare, but yet indisputable, in which disorder rather than order seems to reign. But who does not feel that these are but as the dust in the balance, and that they serve as shadows to set off the transcendent bright- EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 03 ness of that great picture which God has given us in Nature of his own boundless Perfections? It is with Events, then, as with Objects. By their constancy and symmetry, by their affinities and adaptations, both point towards an IntelHgent First Cause, and supply innumerable indications of his wisdom, benevolence, and holiness. Both, also, carrv us to the same conclusion, if we consider them simply in their cause or origin. We saw, in the last section, that, in reflecting on objects, the human mind is constrained to ascend from one to another cause or ground of their being, until it rests at last in the idea of a self-existent, eternal, and personal Creator; that this idea is not so much extracted from objects as assumed in order to render them intelligible ; that, like the ideas of space and duration, it seems inseparable from the natural operations of the mind when applied to phe- nomena, needing observation merely to develop, not to create it. It is the same with events or changes, whether mechanical or chemical, intellectual or moral. You see a stone fall to the ground : you ask the cause, — the answer is, gravity. The mind instinctively asks, whence is gravity ? We are told again that many geological facts can be referred to the action of sub- terranean heat breaking forth in earthquakes and volcanoes, — can we help asking whence that subterranean heat? So with every series of effects and causes. The mind ascends in- tuitively from instrumental to efficient, from proximate to ulti- mate agency, from second causes to a First Cause. As we cannot help interpreting the adaptations and order of such a series by the consciousness of purpose and design which we carry in our own minds, and therefore feel obliged to ascribe it to intelligence ; so the consciousness of power which we feel in our own souls, and the manner in which it originates changes, constrains us to ascend to the notion of a self-existent and almighty Power, the cause of all things. The skeptic may affirm what he will of the impropriety of raising such ques- tions, and of the futility of all answers to them. The mind 94 THE THREE WITNESSES. that thinks cannot help considering them. It is so formed that it can never rest content with mere sequences, however generalized. The notion of a Supreme Being, therefore, seems necessary to us; and the skeptic achieves Hterally nothing when he succeeds in showing that second causes may have been the immediate occasion of that which we have been accustomed to ascribe to the direct act of a First Cause. It is known to many of our readers that modern science, in the hands of some of its disciples, has suggested the idea that the earth, and all that it contains, instead of springing imme- diately from the fiat of a Creator, may have been but the gradual development of a mighty germ of existence, begin- ning, according to the nebular theory of La Place, with the condensation of nebulous matter in the heavens, which finally contracted into a solid globe by cooling ; that from this globe there arose, in due time, by the agency of chemical, mechani- cal, and other inherent laws, the simpler forms of vegetable and animal life ; that from these rudimentary forms sprang in succession other and more perfect, as well as more compli- cated, varieties, until at length man, — the lord of this lower world, with all his affections, his moral sentiments, his intel- lectual powers, his unquenchable desires, his capacities for illimitable progress, his irrepressible energies, that go forth exploring worlds of undiscovered truth, and levelling mount- ains of practical difficulty, and when they have done it all still pine for other worlds to conquer, — man, the last of these de- velopments, steps forth, not the immediate workmanship of God, but the necessary result of powers and processes that have been at work for millions of years or ages. Need we say that these are the mere suggestions of adven- turous speculation? No man of science will pretend, though the testimony of the Bible be set aside and they are weighed by inductive philosophy alone, that, even in such cases, they can claim for their support more than the slimmest probability. But admit that the theory is true: is that a legitimate conclu- EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 95 sion which is drawn from it ? When sages explained the stabihty of the earth by poising it on the back of an animal, the inquirer naturally asked — he could but ask — on what the animal itself stood. Suppose, then, with La Place, "the sun's atmosphere expanded by heat did reach the limits of our sys- tem, that it gradually contracted in cooling, and that during the revolution of this immense system of vapor round the sun's axis the Georgium Sidus, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the Earth, were gradually thrown off from it into their present orbits, and with the velocity of the atmosphere of which they formed a part, that they contracted into solid globes by cool- ing, having previously in their turn thrown off their satellites ; and that the characteristic circumstances in the system thus found, which produce stability, are the necessary consequences of this mode of formation:" admit, too, with Lamarck and other French naturalists, that the earliest and simplest forms of organic life started spontaneously into existence ; and that all other forms sprang from these, in virtue either of appeten- cies or of an intrinsic law of development: have we thereby explained the system of the world ? Have we eliminated from our great moral and physical equation the unknown quantity — God? "Who created or planted a sun in the centre of what was to become a system of future worlds ? Who supplied the due portions of heat to expand his atmosphere through that region of space in which it was to deposit the future abodes of life and intelligence ? Who added the rotary im- pulse, and adjusted it to that precise velocity which would throw off planets revolving in harmonious stability, in place of comets wheeling in eccentric and unstable orbits ? By what power was that heat withdrawn, so as to permit the zones of the solar atmosphere to contract successively into solid planets ? Who separated the ' light from the darkness' which brooded over the revolving chaos ? Who gathered into the ocean's bed its liquid elements ?" And if plants, ani- mals, man, rose successively and spontaneously into being, 96 THE THREE WITNESSES. who impregnated the materials out of which they were made with their mysterious power, and who superadded the instincts, the affections, the thoughts, the aspirations which we find in man ? Go back as far as we will, we still need a Power to be^rin the work of creation. From an eternal succession of secondary causes the mind instinctively recoils. It finds rest only in the conviction of a First Cause, and from that convic- tion, whether it be a cause collecting all its creative energies into one single act performed millions of years ago, or whether it be a cause manifesting itself from time to time before its in- telligent creatures in new efforts, it is, in either case, a convic- tion, without which our views of the universe are fraught with darkness and confusion, as well as with despair. Whatever the train of causes and effects, then, which we trace, whether they be physical or psychological, whether they pertain to matter or to mind, to unorganized or to organ- ized substances, they tend in each and every case towards the conception of a Great First Cause. And I need hardly add, that these different lines of sequences are converging lines, — they point towards one and the self-same origin. He who produced the earth and its atmosphere, — must He not also have created the plants that grow upon it, the animals fitted with organs to subsist upon those plants, the lungs that re- spire air, the organs of articulation and of hearing that make air audible, the mental faculties by which language is rendered possible to man ? And if those faculties came from one Being, then why not all other mental faculties, since all others are adjusted to these? And are we to think that the Being who gave such faculties, gave them for no purpose, — or that his purpose could be other than "to guide and elevate man in his present career, and prepare him for another state of being to which they irresistibly direct his hopes"?* Thus does the argument from causation, combined with that from final causes, Whewell's Philosophy of the Tnthictive Sciences, v. ii. p. 164. EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. 97 conduct us at once to the notion of the Divine Unity and of man's immortahty ! Here, too, we employ, in respect to sequences or events, another argument, which, in the last chapter, we founded on objects. As events must have a First Cause, so the character of the laws which regulate them indicates the character of Him in whom they have their rise. His Wisdom, Goodness, and Power have been so often referred to already, and are discussed so copiously in all works on Natural Theology, that we only notice here another class of attributes too apt to be overlooked. We mean the moral attributes of the Deity, his Justice, Veracity, and Holiness. In some of our most popular and justly valued works — such as Paley — these attributes are not even touched upon; nor, in Paley 's case, perhaps, is it sur- prising, since a philosopher who resolves all virtue, in man, into utility, can hardly avoid, if he be consistent, resolving all Holiness, in God, into Benevolence. But it is surprising that writers who appreciate the independence of these two qualities in our own nature, and who distinctly recognize the moral perfections of the Deity, should have dwelt so little upon the impressive lessons which even nature teaches respecting the Holiness of Him with whom we have to do. It is worthy of remark that such lessons are to be deduced not merely from our own moral constitution, and from the results and tendencies which we see attached to different courses of conduct under his providental direction. If we study even physical, organic, and intellectual laws with reference to this point, we shall find that they too, as I may show more largely hereafter, point dis- tinctly towards a moral character in God, and admonish us continually that this God has declared himself the friend of Virtue, — the unrelenting enemy of Sin. It is a view which needs to be more and more insisted on, in proportion as Natural Science engrosses a larger share of attention. The tendency to confound God and Nature, to identify Him and the energies or laws through which He acts, — a tendency to 7 ^3 THE THREE WITNESSES. V which the human mind is always somewhat subject, and which is apt to be strengthened by a Philosophy too exclusively in- ductive and empirical, — this will be increased in proportion as the moral perfections of the Deity are overlooked. The con- sideration of these is needed to recall us to a deeper sense of the Divine Personality, to remind us of our own spiritual free- dom, and to warn us against all those outward influences which war upon our welfare, obscuring our perceptions of God and accountability, and quenching our aspirations after a better and nobler life. We have thus sketched a few Illustrations of the light which Objects and Events, properly considered, cast upon the great truth that God is, and that He is the rewarder of all such as diligently .seek Him. To attempt to fill up this outline will be our business hereafter. One word, in closing, on the use and defects of Natural Theology, and on its relations to the Reli- gion of the Bible. By unfolding the wonderful order and the benevolent adaptations which are more and more evident as Science widens our view of nature, the Religion of Nature leads us to recognize more distinctly the presence and Perfec- tion of the Creator. When we see how, by patient observation and induction. Philosophers succeed in grouping a vast num- ber of apparently incongruous facts under one simple principle. Natural Theology causes us to raise our thoughts to that Presiding Intelligence which has thus spread harmony over all his ways, and connected by indissoluble bonds bodies and changes the most remote and dissimilar. And when, from the contemplation of the law, we turn to some of the countless uses to which it can be applied, when these various uses rise into view, and we sec how all things are made to work to- gether for the promotion of happiness or virtue, here, too, Natural Theology causes us to look with thankful and adoring thoughts to Him who originally ordered and now sustains a system so fraught with blessings. If Science is mute when she reaches those lofty eminences EVENTS CONSIDERED AS RELIGIOUS TEACHERS. gg whence she can look forth on all comprehending laws and generalizations, Natural Theology takes up the strain, and gives it a higher and more solemn significance. She does not suffer us to dwell on the constancy of these laws in such wise as to dream that it results from mere necessity. She does not substitute Nature for God, an unalterable succession for the agency of Him who is both Creator and Ruler of the universe. She teaches us, with Bacon, that we ought sooner to "receive all the fables of the Legend and the Talmud than to believe that this universal frame is without a mind." That though "a little Philosophy may incline men's minds to atheism, yet depth in Philosophy bringeth men's minds about again to Religion ; for while the mind of man looketh upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them and go no further ; but when it beholdeth the chain of them confederate and linked together, it must needs fly to Providence and Deity." But Natural Theology has a yet higher office. " Philoso- phy," says Clement of Alexandria, "was to the Greeks what the Law was to the Hebrews. It was a schoolmaster to bring them to Christ." If this can be said of Philosophy, how much more of Natural Religion ! Teaching us the existence and superintending agency of God, it teaches us also that there are problems in respect to his government and our own destiny which are of infinite moment, but which no oracle in Nature's Temple can adequately solve. It teaches us that there is a God that hideth himself With the Patriarch of old, we would find Him, we would come even to his seat, we would know whether He still looks down upon us with a Father's eye and heart. Some token we would have, from that dark immensity over which we hang, that we are not forgotten by the Infinite and Eternal Spirit, that we are not left to be the sport or unresisting victims of inflexible law ; some token that amidst all the dark dispensations of life, amidst the pros- perity of the wicked and the triumph of the ungodly, there is still a God that judgeth the earth, and that He is an unfailing lOO THE THREE WITNESSES. Refuge to all who trust in Him. And then, when the moral eye looks inward, when we contrast what we are with what we ought to be, when we hear the deep witness of our own soul that God is just, and that we are unjust, do not the almost agonizing questions rise, Is there mercy ? Can there be mercy for such as wc ? And to these questions, what has the Religion of Nature to answer? What but the intiination of a hope that He who has given to man some light will not withhold more, that the very insufficiency of the Revelation made through Nature and Providence is a sort of pledge that clearer and more consoling communications are in reserve for his erring children ? And when, with these words of doubtful promise, the inquirer turns towards the manger of Bethlehem, the hill of Calvary, the rock of Joseph, the Mount of Olives; when he compares the instructions of Him who spake as never man spake, with what he knows already of God, and suspects of immortality and judgment; when he places the grace that is promised and the grace that is provided beside the yearnings of a deathless but benighted and sin-stricken spirit, does he not know, does not the Religion of Nature proclaim, that here is a Teacher sent from God, — the true light that enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world ? CHAPTER IV. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. IN the preceding chapter we presented the Order and the Adaptations that prevail among Objects and Events, as indicating a Creator who is all-Powerful, Wise, and Good. In doing so, we contravene the judgment of acute and able men, some of whom incline to Atheistic or Pantheistic views, while others are believers in Theism. Their objections, then, to the Religious Instruction which we have sought to draw from these sources, we shall now consider. We shall also call attention to views respecting the con- stancy and uniformity of Nature, which are at present widely prevalent, especially among students of Physical Science, and which, in our estimation, though not in that of many who hold them, are inconsistent with any intelligible theory of Miracles and Divine Providence on the one hand, or with the existence of natural and moral evil, and of moral responsibility in man, on the other. We first consider the Skepticism which has been professed respecting all religious convictions which are founded either on Adaptations or on Order. I. ADAPTATIONS OR FINAL CAUSES. This Skepticism in regard to Adaptations* would be less * We prefer the word Adaptations to Design or Final Causes, though the latter are more commonly used, because these seem to assume the very point in dispute, which is, whether there be in the constitution of Nature and Man clear evidences of Design, i.e. of such Design as implies a Personal Designer. The language of Paley, "Contrivance proves Design," and " where there is design there must be a designer," appears to be loose and exceptionable. (lOl) I02 THE THREE WITNESSES. frequent if it were considered that the religious Indications, or, speaking loosely, the teleological arguments which they are held to supply, are not evolved as strict logical conclusions from the mere consideration of means and ends. The idea of an Intelligent Cause seems to be an intuitive suggestion of the mind when these adaptations are observed ; and it has been aptly compared to our instinctive interpretation of natural signs. As when we hear certain cries, or see certain gestures of an animal, we infer the feelings which prompted them ; or as, when we observe sequences, a belief in their constancy is one of the necessary laws or conditions of thought ; or as, when we see certain actions of free deliberative agents, we inevitably attach to them the notion of being right or wrong ; so, when we observe these adaptations, in matter or mind, we uncon- sciously assume for them a higher than any natural cause. The assumption seems to be a necessary complement to the facts observed and their proper key. It is only through ex- perience that we learn to distinguish accurately adaptations which can be ascribed to man's contrivance, from those which claim a Divine or Supernatural origin. The objection to what is commonly called the argument from final causes, has been stated in various forms. We notice a few of them. It will be found that such objections generally assume some theory of the origin and the limitation of human knowledge, and that they are important or tenable only on the supposition of the truth of that theory. Thus, admit that all our knowledge is confined, as is as- serted by the Positivist and Sensationalist, to phenomena, and then, of course, of whatever lies beyond the phenomenal, whether it be substance or cause, powers in nature or a power above nature, we can affirm nothing. Or again, as- sume, as many do who adopt the opposite system (idealism), that such an arbitrary limitation of our knowledge is of the very essence of all Inductive Philosophy; that this philosophy .must assume that the constancy of natural laws is absolutely CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. jq^ unalterable, and that they leave, therefore, no room for super- natural intervention, and in that case we are equally shut up to the conclusion that Induction can give no support to the Religion of Nature. It is on suppositions like these that most of the objections to that Religious Philosophy which is sup- ported by the progress of the Inductive sciences will be found to rest. Theological proofs or illustrations, when properly guarded, are rarely called in question by unsophisticated minds. To such they commend themselves with a clearness and a strength which seems to belong to no other kind of evidence. The hostile criticisms to which they have been subjected are the offspring, as we have just said, of certain metaphysical assumptions. Sometimes, however, they may be traced, not so much to the adoption of a false philosophy as to a desire to subject it to the severest of logical tests, inasmuch as any theory from which we can legitimately deduce Atheistic con- clusions, demonstrates its incapacity to solve the problems that are presented by the constitution and necessary opera- tions of the human mind. By some this is supposed to have been the object of Hume, the most intrepid and acute of all modern skeptics. It is by no means certain that Hume him- self held that there was no room for religious convictions. On the contrary, there seems good reason to think that his skeptical speculations were intended to demonstrate, by a rednctio ad absnrdnvi, the utter insufficiency of a philosophy which assigns an exclusive place to the external world in the origin of our knowledge, and overlooks those primary con- victions and impressible laws of thought which give form to the matter of our experience. But enough of this at'present. Says Cicero, " If any one were to carry to Scythia, or to Britain, that artificial sphere which our friend Posidonius lately made, each revolution of which represents the same changes in the sun, moon, and five wandering stars (or planets) that are observed to take place every day and night in the heavens, jQ. THE THREE WITNESSES. who among those barbarians would doubt that this sphere had been contrived and perfected by intelligence ? Yet there are persons who doubt, respecting the world, whence it and all that it contains came; whether it arose from chance or by some necessity, or whether it sprang from reason and a Divine Intelligence; and they seem to think that more was ac- complished by Archimedes when he imitated the rollings of the celestial sphere, than was accomplished in the creation or constitution of Nature." To this kind of reasoning it is objected — ist. That fitness or tendency to a specific end does not necessarily imply de- sign, since, in man's workmanship, a tool or a structure often subserves purposes not foreseen by him who made it. This is quite true. But if the means are various, and yet iiide- pendcnt of each other, and if all are found concurring with entire precision towards one and the same desirable end,^ then the inference of an intelligent personal designer seems inevita- ble. Thus, in the artificial globe mentioned by Cicero, we assume design as its origin, not because a representation of the heavens at any one moment is given by it, for that might be given by a common mirror, or by a sheet of tranquil water, but because the changes in the heavens are also delineated; and because, to effect this, different substances, me- tallic and wooden, are brought together of such different sizes, figures, and descriptions as could alone produce the effect, and which have, in themselves, no necessary relation or dependence. 2d. It is objected, again, that this adaptation of means to ends proves nothing more than the instinctive workings of an intelligence without personality or self-consciousness ; that "the highest divinity of the naturalists is the adaptive plastic power of nature, which may be regarded not only as distinct from the true God, but as inferior in spiritual dignity to the rational soul of man, though far surpassing it in power and in * Dr. James McCosh. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. Iqc the unerring skill of its instinctive workings." The writer* from whom we quote these lines adds, " Nature alone cannot prove the existence of a Deity possessed of moral attributes." Much of the force of this objection falls when we dis- cover that, as urged by him, by Coleridge, and by others, it applies only to Physico-Theology , and that they recognize the value and authority of the evidence which we derive from the constitutioji and operations of the liunian mind. But, even as directed against the adaptations observed in the material world, the objection, though sanctioned by such honored names, strikes me as futile. It is an attempt to reduce the indi- cations of design in the physical universe to a level with those which we observe in the structures of the Bee or the Beaver. But when we look at those structures, we never think of the unerring skill and ingenuity displayed, as if they were the fruits of a voluntary and deliberative intelligence on the part of the animal. We look beyond him to One who formed him, with his wonderful instincts, and who uses him merely as an unconscious or half-conscious instrument. But when we look at man, rearing an edifice for his own habitation, or for some other definite purpose, we recognize at once the distinctive mark of a free but at the same time finite and fallible intel- ligence. And, on the same principle, when we look at natu- ral laws without us, or at the framework of our bodies and the marvelous structure of our minds, we discern the indications of a free but unerring Intelligence, — one that works not by necessity but by deliberation and choice, — whose plans have been selected with a deliberate purpose, — not imposed by a surd and inflexible fatality. 3d. Analogous to the objection last mentioned is one which is thus stated by Mr. George Combe : " The examination of a watch leads us to infer a watchmaker ; but it cannot answer the further question, who made the watchmaker." In other * Dr. Tayler Lewis. I06 THE THREE WITNESSES. words, if from considering the world we infer a world-maker, why not, from considering that world-maker, raise the further question by whom he was made ? The answer is obvious. We reach the conception of a self-existent and Infinite First Cause not from adaptations alone. Thus it has already been shown that from the one simple fact that something exists, we are carried, by necessary inference, to the conclusion that something has always existed, — that this something is an im- material and independent Being, — that He is self-existent, in- finite, and omnipresent, and is the original cause of all things. To the same conception the human mind seems to be carried by other and still shorter routes ; and it is by observing the indications of free Intelligence with which the world is crowded that we come to identify its Maker with the self- existent and Infinite Being who is conceived of on other and independent grounds. 4th. Mr. Hume objects that the theistic argument, from final causes, assumes an analogy between the world and the workmanship of man, for which there is no adequate founda- tion: " If we see a house, we conclude it had an architect, because this is precisely that species of effect which we have experienced to proceed from that species of cause. Wwl surely you will not affirm that the universe bears such a re- semblance to a house that we can, with the same certainty, infer a similar cause for it, or that the analogy is here perfect?" He would imply, that in the case of the house, we know both that there was a builder competent to make it, and also that it had a beginning, whereas we know neither of these things in respect to the world. We reply, ist, that Geology, Astron- omy, and Archaeology do demonstrate, in the clearest manner, that the present state of the world had a beginning in time, and that no adequate natural cause can be assigned for its origin. We remark. 2d, that while a house differs from the universe in some respects, it does not differ from it in those which are essential to the argument. Both exhibit in their CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. JO7 materials and in the form and collocation of those materials, congruities and adaptations in respect as well to their different parts — when considered by themselves — as to some definite purpose which they are to answer as wholes; and in each case these congruities and adaptations irresistibly suggest the idea of an intelligent Author or Designer, — the intelligence mani- fested in man's workmanship being as inferior to that displayed in the constitution of the universe, as the extent of that work- manship is inferior to an immensity which the Heaven of Heavens cannot contain. II. ORDER AND UNIFORMITY IN SEQUENCES, AS EXPLAINED BY UNBELIEVERS. Speaking of the orderly succession of events in the natural world, Cicero remarks: "Whosoever supposes this to have sprung from chance, I see not why such an one should not believe that if innumerable specimens of the several letters in the alphabet be thrown together and shaken up they might not be found at length arranged in such order as to give us, word for word, the whole annals of Ennius ; whereas I doubt whether such could be the case with a single line or verse." In other words, wherever we find order and regularity obtain- ing, either uniformly, or in a vast majority of instances, and where at the same time the possibilities of disorder are indefi- nitely numerous, — we are justified in inferring from this fact an intelligent cause.. The skeptic will tell us, however, that he does not ascribe this order and regularity to chance, but to the inherent and essential stability of an eternal self-subsisting economy; that the possibilities of disorder which we have assumed are imaginary, because '"matter," to borrow the language of Sir William Drummond,* " is always obedient to the laws of its own being." To the same effect is the language of an able * Academical Questions. iq8 the three witnesses. French cotemporary :* " To minds unacquainted with the study of the heavenly bodies, though often well informed in other branches of Natural Philosophy, Astronomy has still the reputation of being a science eminently religious, as if the famous verse, the hcavois declare the glory of God, had pre- served all its force. It is, however, certain, as I have proved, that all real science stands in radical and necessary opposition to all theology ;t and this character of opposition between all science and all theology is more strongly indicated in Astron- omy than in any other; precisely because Astronomy is, so to speak, more a science than any other science. By the devel- opment of the true celestial mechanics since the time of New- ton, all Theological philosophy, even the most perfect, has been thenceforth deprived of its principal intellectual office ; the most regular order being now conceived as necessarily es- tablished and kept up in our world — and even throughout the whole universe — by the simple mutual attraction of its differ- ent parts," — as though this attraction and the collocation of these parts did not need to be accounted for as well as the order they produce. "At present," he adds in a note, — as if bent on signalizing the boldness of his unbelief, — ^" to minds that have been early familiarized with the true Astronomical philosophy, the heavens declare no other glory than that of Hipparchus, Kepler, Newton, and all those who have contrib- uted to the establishment of their laws." This doctrine we cannot proceed to discuss without placing by the side of the passage here quoted another almost the * M. Comte. |- This proof seems to be that when we have reached by induction a great principle like gravitation, we have no right to inquire nor even to think (as if the human mind could help doing it !) about its nature or generating causes ; but must take it for granted that these are questions incapable of solution, without the domain of philosophy, and to be abandoned, therefore, to the imagination of theo- logical speculators or to the subtleties of metaphysicians. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 109 same in principle though opposite in its origin. It affords another example of the manner in which minds holding the most extreme and antagonistic opinions often agree in respect to fundamental principles. Comte, an Atheist, proclaims that Inductive Philosophy can see nothing in Nature but an order necessarily established ; and the same sentiment — we had al- most said the same language — is employed not only by distin- guished Christian writers, but even by advocates of a high spiritual philosophy. In their zeal against what they regard as a sensualizing pro- cess of the reason, and in their anxiety to substitute some- thing in place of argument as the basis of religious faith, they often express themselves in this wise : " Inductive pliilosopJiy must assiune as one of its leading axioms that what it styles natural laws have ever been the same, both in the kind and degree of their action, operating in virtue of an inherent power, and not liable to be modified, hastened, or retarded by the supernatural." Stated briefly, these objections seem to amount to this, that Inductive philosophy presupposes the absolute constancy and stability of nature, and that it is therefore unphilosophical to infer that things were ever otherwise than as at present ; or, in other words, that they have had a beginning or author ; that the province of this philosophy is merely to establish what is, i.e. what are the phenomena and their relations, and that the idea, therefore, of anything above or beyond nature is irrele- vant and preposterous. To this we reply — ist. That when we take for granted that phenomena and the relations of such phenomena among them- selves form the only proper objects of Philosophy — that to nothing else can we with propriety ascribe an objective re- ality— we transgress the limits of legitimate assumption. To us it seems clear that the human mind is so constituted that it cannot but look beyond sensations which it feels, to the ex- ternal causes of those sensations, — beyond thoughts and emo- no THE THREE WITNESSES. tions of which it is conscious to the sentient power, principle, or person that originated them, — beyond attributes to sub- stances, beyond events succeeding each other in time to an Eternal, self-subsisting Cause. And does not a like mental necessity constrain us to recognize personality in ourselves and others, and to ascend from personality finite and dependent to personality which is infinite and independent? The Induc- tive Philosopher, while intently occupied in observing facts, in comparing and reasoning upon them, in educing from them general laws, may not pause to analyze or even notice these notions ; but does he not assume them to be real and indis- pensable,— essential parts of his mental furniture and necessary elements in all high Philosophy? In maintaining, then, or rather in assuming that Inductive science excludes from its domains all but the phenomenal, the objector begs the very point in debate. He achieves, by arbitrary definition and lim- itation, that expulsion of theology from the field of Inductive inquiry which he could have fairly accomplished only by clear and conclusive reasoning. 2d. We observe, again, that the stability which is properly assumed, in all inductive inquiries as pertaining to nature, is not absolute but contingent; that our anticipation of the re- currence of phenomena, in a constant order, is predicated upon the condition that only the same causes and circumstances continue to operate, and therefore necessarily involves the idea that with new causes new phenomena might arise, — such as the termination of the system on the one hand, or if we go back in time, its commencement or creation on the other. If there be ground, then, for the presumptive belief that other causes or the same causes, with other intensities competent to origi- nate or destroy the system, do exist or have existed, then in- ductive philosophy, so far from repudiating the presumption, imperatively requires that we should investigate the evidence on which it rests, and especially that we should inquire whether Nature and Man, considered together, do not contain within CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. Ill themselves indications of one great cause and of its creative or destroying energy. Now we have ah^eady pointed to facts such as the universal belief among mankind in an intelligent first Cause, — the be- nign moral influence of that belief on individuals and on na- tions,— and the instinctive resort to it of the human mind on great emergencies, whether of speculation or of action. We have also pointed to phenomena which seem to show clearly that the course of nature has not been always what it now is, and which render it at least highly probable that supernatural causes have been at work. These facts go to establish the strongest presumption — independent of other evidence — that there is a great First Cause, the Author of Nature, and there- fore supernatural. When, then, we turn to the examination of Nature (material or immaterial), we are not shut up to the exclusive survey of her phenomena in their present order and constancy. We come with the anterior idea of an all-power- ful Being, able to originate, suspend, or terminate all existing systems, and we ask whether those systems furnish any tokens of his existence and agency. 3d. But the skeptic still insists that it is unreasonable to ascribe this order and constancy in nature to an Almighty and Intelligent Author, since the fact suggests its own most nat- ural explanation, which is, that events and objects have thus followed each other in one constant series through all past eternity, and that they are destined to continue so forever. If this hypothesis of an eternal series be consistent with reason, and if it will explain the facts, to resort to the idea of a Personal, self-existent Creator for that purpose is, of course, gratuitous and therefore unphilosophical. Now in respect to this theory, which has had more or less of currency since the time of Democritus, we may remark — I. That were it admitted it would only explain the uniformity of sequences in nature, affording no solution of those innumer- able collocations and adaptations which are vastly more strik- 112 THE THREE WITNESSES. ing, both in themselves and as evidences of design. 2. That the hypothesis of an eternal self-subsisting system of objects and sequences involves some of the very difficulties on account of which the idea of an infinite and Supreme Being is rejected. The skeptic repudiates the notion of a First Cause, in part, because he cannot, he says, conceive of an Infinite Being, — and what does he accept as a substitute ? He accepts that which comprehends Infinity in the several senses of infi- nite number, infinite space, and infinite duration. 3. But we observe further, and more particularly, that this hypothesis is self-contradictory. To predicate that of each part which you deny of the whole, or to affirm of a whole series what you deny of each individual term, seems clearly absurd, and yet this is done by him who pleads for an eternal succession of finite beings. Every particular being in the series, upon the supposition, depends upon a preceding one ; and yet the whole depends upon nothing. "The difficulty of sup- posing a being beginning to exist without a cause is not at all lessened by supposing an eternal succession of such beings, — for unless there be some first Being, on whom all the rest depend, it is evident that the whole series hang upon nothing, which is altogether as impossible as that any one in particular should. Hence it is evident there must always have been one intelligent being, whose existence is uncaused and absolutely eternal, unchangeable, and independent."* 4th. Waving such objections, however, we aver that the hy- pothesis of an eternal succession of the finite beings and phe- nomena we now observe on the earth is at variance with moral and physical facts of the most unquestionable nature. His- tory conducts us back but a few centuries before we come to the infancy — the very cradle — of all the art, science, and civil- ization among mankind ; and is it conceivable that this our race could have subsisted on the earth for millions on millions * Robert Hall. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I j , of years, having all the while the same thirst for improvement and the same boundless capabilities for it too, and yet have all the while remained stationary, — never rousing itself from its stupor till during this last brief period, and throwing into this insignificant fraction of its existence all its mighty efforts after progress and amelioration? But there is a physical fact yet more decisive. Geology conducts us backward through successive revolutions on the surface of our globe, and soon reaches a period when man did not dwell upon it. Then, in its ascent along the mighty tracts of geological time, it attains to other and remoter periods, when one and another species of terrestrial animals first started into being ; and independent of supernatural means no hypothesis has yet been suggested which can account adequately for this introduction of success- ive orders of living beings at vast intervals — those orders rising one above another. And even if such an hypothesis could be suggested, — if we can suppose that these successive races of plants and animals rose spontaneously into life, — still, as we retrace the series and go from orders more perfect to those less so, from man to mammalia, from mammalia to rep- tiles, from animals to vegetables, from vegetables to a still earlier period when there was no living thing upon the earth, plant, or insect, or fish, — and from this again to one when all seems to have been darkness and chaos, — do we not see that we approach all the while nearer and nearer to the beginning of the system, — to the great and eventful epoch when Creative orginating Power — even God — was needed? Astronomy gives evidence of the same great fact {i.e. the limited existence of our globe and system) in the spheroidal figure of the earth, in the existence of a resisting medium through which the planets seem to move, and in the appearance of new and the disappearance of old stars in the sidereal firmament. Thus the figment of an eternal succession of beings, whether ani- mal or vegetable, is shown to be as inconsistent with observed facts as it is incongruous with reason. 8 114 THE THREE IVITNESSES. III. ORDER AND UNIFORMITY IN SEQUENCES AS MISAPPREHENDED BY BELIEVERS. Theory of Miracles. In considering the uniformity which characterizes material and mental phenomena, a grave question presents itself. Is it, on the one hand, absolutely constant, in all its parts and details, as well as in its main features, not liable to be interrupted by man in the exercise of a self-determining power, — not subject to suspension or deviation through the miraculous or provi- dential agency of God, — not marred by any existing disorders or irregularities, but perfect, and destined to be eternal ? Or, on the other hand, is it a law of uniformity, subject to some exceptions and irregularities, — liable to be set aside by the su- pernatural agency of God, whether miraculous or providen- tial, and liable also to be modified, and, in some sense, disturbed by the free moral agency of man? We have spoken of this as a great question. It is, in truth, the one question which includes within itself almost all the deepest problems of our being, — problems which, in one or another form, have tasked, and, we might perhaps add, have hitherto defied, the sagacity of the most eminent metaphysi- cians and theologians. We are not so presumptuous as to suppose that we can cast new light upon them. When Mil- ton describes his fallen angels waiting the return of their great leader from his excursion to find the new-created earth, he rep- resents them as whiling away the tedious hours, some in heroic games, some in wild and terrible sports, some in song, and some in philosophical musings and disputations. These last " Apart sat on a hill retired, In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high Of Providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, And found no end in wandering mazes lost." CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 115 Milton understood well the connection which these several questions have with each other, and with the still more com- prehensive one which we have stated, and he doubtless in- tended to place on record his conviction that they are ques- tions which transcend the utmost reach of man's powers in his present state, and are destined, perhaps, to transcend them for- ever; for truly none but an omniscient mind would seem adequate to their full solution. We touch upon them, — not because we have the presumption to imagine that we can offer a satisfactory solution, but because a solution has been vir- tually assumed, in some of the current science of the day, and has been made the basis of some of the arguments in favor of natural Theology. The bearings of this subject on meta- physical theology and on general philosophy we do not pro- pose to examine, but merely its connection with science as founded in Induction, and with the use of science as an aux- iliary and handmaid of Natural Religion. Considered in this point of view it is not a controversy between the theist and the atheist — between the skeptic and the believer. The phi- losophy which would resolve the order of nature into a self- subsisting necessity we have already considered. The phi- losophy which we have now to examine would resolve it into a necessity established by God, — recognizing Him as the author and establisher of the system, but as governing it exclusively by means of unalterable laws and agencies, — laws which contain within themselves the principle of self-perpetuation and self- development, or which admit Divine agency only when ex- erted in obedience to those laws. It is the grand question between the physical and the moral under a new phase, and also between the natural and the supernatural. In one respect the doctrine which we have now to examine differs materially from that view of philosophical necessity which has been expounded and maintained by Christian writers. Edwards, for example, in his masterly work on the Will, while he denies the ability of man to interfere with the Il6 THE THREE WITNESSES. established relations between cause and effect, — between mo- tive and volition, — constantly recognizes the idea of a provi- dential and supernatural intervention on the part of God. But the scientific writers to whom we refer go much further. They maintain a constancy in nature which, as we have said, seems to be inconsistent with any intelligible theory either of mira- cles or of a superintending Providence, while it leaves no room for liberty in man or for evil (physical or moral) in the world. Indeed, with the deepest respect for the learning, ability, and moral worth of some of them, we find it difficult to draw any line of distinction between their views and those of the Pantheist or Atheist. We do not doubt in the least the sincerity of their religious faith ; we appreciate fully the injustice of charging a theory with all the odious conse- quences that may be deduced from it ; and we know well how easy it is to hold speculative errors which may be innocuous to their immediate authors and advocates, though not harm- less to those who adopt them as practical convictions. Yet we must be excused from adding — for it is a truth attested by long experience — that these exaggerated views of the con- stancy and inviolable regularity of natural sequences find their most earnest and most numerous advocates among the skep- tics; and that skepticism and fatalism seem to be their legitimate results. We have just intimated that it is difficult to distinguish be- tween the views of some of these writers and those held by Pantheists. Spinoza denies that there are or can be any dis- orders in the universe. To suppose that the being and attri- butes of God can be better discovered by the disorder than by the order of nature, he thinks is foolish ; and he accordingly maintains that " miracles can have no existence except in the fancy of the ignorant vulgar, who are more struck by an apparent anomaly than by the uniform tenor of eternal and unchangeable laws." The same sentiment pervades the Aca- demical Questions of Sir William Drummond, and will be CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I I -, found, indeed, a prevailing element in skeptical literature and philosophy. But how does it compare with the doctrine of some Chris- tian Philosophers, even when engaged in defending the prin- ciples of religion? Mr. Babbage, one of the first mathemati- cians in Europe, in his Ninth Bridgewater Treatise, written, as he tells us, expressly to show that mathematical philosophy can furnish the most cogent and irrefragable arguments in behalf of the Divine existence and perfections, thus expresses himself:* " To have foreseen at the creation of matter and of mind that a -period would arrive when matter, assuming its pre- arranged combinations, would become susceptible of vegetable forms ; that these should in due time themselves supply the pabulum of animal existence ; that successive races of giant forms or of microscopic beings should, at appointed periods, necessarily rise into existence and as inevitably yield to decay ; and that decay and death — the lot of each individual exist- ence— should also act with equal power on the races which they constitute ; that the extinction of every race should be as certain as the death of each individual, and the advent of netv genera be as inevitable as the destruction of their predeces- sors : to have foreseen all these changes and to have provided by one comprehensive law for all that should ever occur, either to the races themselves, to the individuals of which they are composed, or to the globe which they inhabit, manifests a degree of power and of knowledge of the highest conceivable order," etc. To the same effect, though not so explicit, is the language of Mr. Powell, an eminent mathematician and philosopher of Oxford, in his work on the Connection of Natural and Divine Truth :t " This is, perhaps, of all others, the reflection which, to a thinking and philosophic inquirer, tends most to exalt * Babbage, p. 45. f Powell, p. 155. Il8 THE THREE WITNESSES. his ideas of the Divine perfections ; the regulation of all the varied and complicated actions of the material world by an unvarying system ; the combination of a limited number of first principles producing all the variety and harmony of the creation ; the sufficiency of a few simple laws to regulate the entire complexity of a vast mechanism ; the first constitution of the world which, zvitJioiit furtJier interposition, contains ivithin itself the means of perpetual retiovation and stability. Now, this conclusion rests (as we have said) on the collective infer- ences of a real maintenance of inviolable order in the mate- rial world. It is evident, then, that any event occurring to interrupt the preservation of this order would be a serious exception and formidable difficulty in the way of our conclu- sion." The manner in which these doctrines have been applied in the study of Astronomy, Physiology, and Geology must be sufficiently obvious to those who are at all conversant with these sciences. Among philosophical Geologists, for exam- ple, while there is a school which maintains that the present state of the crust of the earth affords incontestable evidence of great catastrophes in the distant past, and of the exercise, at different eras, of a power which was at least extra-natural if it was not supernatural, there is another, and we believe a still larger one, which insists that the earth, so far as explored, affords no trace of the agency of any causes other than those now in operation. Geologists of the latter class do not deny that God was the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth ; but they hold that He manifested his wisdom and exerted his power, not in successive miraculous revolutions, but merely in the original establishment of a system, out of which all succeeding changes have been evolved as natural and necessary results. To show what sweeping applications of this principle are sometimes made by men of science, even when they are attempting to vindicate the Divine honor and majesty, let us revert for a moment to Mr. Babbage. In the celebrated Cal- CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. Ug culating Engine of this gentleman, — the noblest triumph of mathematical and mechanical skill yet known, — a machine that is to do by itself the work of calculating the numbers used in astronomical and nautical tables, — he finds that he can so adjust its parts that it shall, at every future period, though ever so remote, make one or two seeming exceptions to the one only law which it has hitherto observed. This law, how- ever, he states, is not the full expression of that by which the machine acts, but the excepted case is as absolutely and irre- sistibly the consequence of its primitive adjustment as is any among the countless multitude which it may previously have produced. For instance, the machine can be so adjusted as to register only square numbers for thousands of years, and then, in one or more instances at any given time, it can register cube numbers. And since a property so wonderful can be given to a piece of human workmanship, it is suggested that what we have gazed upon as miracles, as the actual suspen- sions of natural law, as the manifestation of a present God, as supernatural declarations of his ceaseless dominion over man and the earth he inhabits, as tokens of his sleepless superintendence over this race of ours that He hath made and which He will hereafter judge, — these, it is suggested, after all, are but natural results of decrees established thousands or millions of years ago. And so of Providence. It is a Provi- dence exerted in foreseeing, at the first, all possible contingen- cies, and in providing for them so perfectly, and with a kind- ness so vigilant, that no occasion for intervention or even for supervision can ever afterwards arise. Now, that to Mr. Babbage's mind this is the view best cal- culated, as he affirms, to afford exalted conceptions of Divine Wisdom and Power, we cannot doubt, and there may be many minds beside his to whom it appears in the same light. To a profound mathematician, employed through long and toilsome years in calculating the possible combinations of numbers, in devising the adjustment of complicated mechan- 120 THE THREE WITNESSES. ism, in endeavoring to foresee all the disturbing causes that can possibly arise, in striving to bring, within the performance of a machine, the greatest possible range and compass of re- sults,— that such a mind may find itself awed and overpowered when it thinks what must have been in the view of that Eternal Being who, out of an infinite number of different laws of gravity which might have been selected, as we could easily show, chose that one (the inverse ratio of the square of the distance) which now obtains and which Newton first discov- ered ; when he considers how the best intellect of the scien- tific world, for the last two centuries, had exhausted itself in tracing out but a few of the consequences of that single law, and how all its consequences, even the remotest, nor its con- sequences only, but all the possible consequences of each one of that infinite number of other laws which might have been substituted for it, must have been foreseen by Him who gave it preference ; when he considers, too, that this is but one of in- numerable other material laws, now in operation, and whose establishment evinces, in each case, a like boundless fore- sight ; and when to material laws he, in thought, adds those which connect matter with animal life, and those again that connect both with mind, and those again which govern the operations of our mental, moral, and spiritual nature ; when he thinks of the countless varieties of organized beings, living or extinct — how mountain masses have been piled up not only out of petrified animals, but even out of dead infusoria so small that forty-one thousand of them made but a cubic inch ; and then, when he conceives that the nature, functions, and relations of all these countless varieties may have been foreseen and provided for in one stupendous effort of inventive and creative power, — who will not admit that here is a noble conception of God, that to such a mind, with such habits, it would naturally seem the noblest and most sublime ? But is God to be contemplated and adored by none but mathematicians? And arc there not in the Divine nature CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I2i Other attributes besides Wisdom and Power ? Is there not Holiness ? Is there not rectitude ? Is there not Parental Love? When we consider Him as a mechanician merely, arranging masses of matter, availing himself of their pre-exist- ing properties, adjusting them to certain uses, — how poor, how inadequate after all is the noblest of such conceptions ! God not only arranged matter. He created it. He assigned to it its properties. Above all He created mind ; He surrounds himself with intelligent offspring. This material framework of nature, these verdant fields, these extended plains and tow- ering mountains, these flowing rivers and expanding oceans, this grand array of forces, and motions, and vicissitudes, all marshalled, as it were, in order, and moving forward in har- mony,— what is it all but a dzuclliug-place for man, the intelli- gent, self-conscious, accountable child of God? And when does that God shed forth the effulgence of his glory so brightly on our minds as when we can contemplate Him sitting not only high above all the material forces that He hath made, having an Immensity that neither the heavens, nor the heaven of heavens can contain, but sending forth conscious intelli- gences as heralds of his moral perfections ? Even heathen poets could celebrate the praises of God as a father. And what is our noblest conception of Father? When, in our thoughts, do we seem most to exalt the rule of a wise, just, and loving Parent? To what should we appeal, if we were most anxious to commend him to the love and reverence of his household ? Would it be merely to the wisdom with which he had devised and established the regulations of that house- hold; to the sagacity with which he has anticipated every emergency ; to the fact that he has perfected such a system that it can dispense altogether with his own presence and agency, and that he now lives far away from the home of his affections, never interposing in its affairs, nor sending to it one fresh memento of his care ? No ! we ask of a father regard, in the first place, to the moral welfare of his children ; we ask a 122 THE THREE WITNESSES. rule and regimen which will contribute to form character, to ennoble sentiment, to develop self-control and nerve with spir- itual power. And we feel that this needs not only law, but the administration of law, not only rules, but influences; and not only these, but such changes from time to time that these rules can adapt themselves to emergencies created by the child himself in the use or in the abuse of his moral liberty. Here, then, it seems to us, is a sufficient answer to Mr. Bab- bage's theory of miracles, — a theory by which he would trans- form them from supernatural into natural events. He adopts it because it seems to him the view which best illustrates the wisdom of the Deity. We say, in reply, that did the physical system of the world subsist alone, by itself and for itself, or were it the dwelling-place of beings not endowed with moral natures, nor with faculties essentially progressive, we might assent to this opinion. But when we consider this system in its higher relations ; when we consider it as connected with a nobler economy, — even a moral and spiritual one ; when we recollect that in assigning laws to matter and to mind God seems to have had special reference to the improvement of man in wisdom and virtue, then a great question arises. Suppose that, instead of inciting him to a faithful cultivation of these powers to a course of upright, beneficent, and holy living, to a clear recognition of his Creator in the things that He hath made ; suppose that the very constancy of these laws had contributed with other causes to superinduce a practical atheism and drown men in sensuality and folly, — what more likely than that this constancy should in such case be arrested; that the same Divine and miraculous power which established the system should now suspend it ; tliat, having failed to teach man by the natural, God should again invoke the supernatural ; that, stupefied as men were by the earthly and the sensual, they should be startled from their guilty slumbers by a voice from Heaven ? This seems to be the true theory of miracles, and it involves no impeachment of the stability of the Divine coun- CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 123 sels, since the same moral purpose which assigned fixed laws and properties to matter at first, now requires that, in order to the attainment of its high and beneficent ends, those laws should be suspended, — just as a wise parent, who prescribes a course of exercises for a child, may revoke or suspend them the moment that he finds it abused by that child to the injury of his health or his morals. But admit, it may be said, that it is moral disorder chargeable only on man and on his free moral agency that occasions these deviations in physical laws from theiraccustomed course, — why not allow such deviations to have been appointed before the foundation of the world ? and why not recognize them when they occur as necessary and unavoidable results of the physi- cal character which God impressed at first upon the universe? We answer by inquiring why we should adopt this view, thus involving some of the plainest parts of the Bible in am- biguity. If Natural Theology have its own proper evidence, so has the Bible also ; and in choosing between different views of miraculous interposition, neither of which can claim de- monstrative evidence, it is surely not too much to ask that some respect should be paid to clear and explicit declarations of the Sacred Books. Waving this, however, let me ask if God is a mere mechanician, who would be wearied if He gave constant attention to the great structure which He once made and which He launched on boundless space — its native ele- ment ? or would it derogate from his greatness, though with a Father's eye and with all a Father's heart He should con- tinually bend over his intelligent offspring and interpose when necessary to save them from themselves, — from the ap- propriate fruits of their folly or their guilt? Concede to man so much of moral freedom that he can sin, and then you may easily represent to yourself an awful moral crisis ivJiicJi ivould not only justify but also require these miraculous suspensions of law; and thus, while blessed spirits beneath brighter heavens may be permitted to behold in new worlds as they rise into 124 THE THREE WITNESSES. being sensible proofs of God's presence and Almighty power, man — the perverse, the erring, the sinful — may need to be rebuked, by laws disturbed; by elements convulsed; by ca- tastrophes that seem to attest the utmost displeasure of that God whose wrath is consuming fire. But, again, it may be said that though such a reason or final cause for miracles maybe assigned with plausibility in respect to those which occurred after man was introduced upon the globe, yet it can hardly apply to those great physical vicissi- tudes which preceded that event, and which we may also re- gard as supernatural. We reply, that inasmuch as clear me- morials of those vicissitudes have been engraven on the rocks and hills, they do present even now to the student of na- ture an instructive moral lesson, for they lead him back from one memorable era to another, — each anterior to the existence of man upon the earth, and yet each illustrated by the exer- cise of God's creative power. Independent, too, of the con- firmation yielded by these records of creation to the records of revelation, they teach the further instructive lesson that the Providence of God is truly a superintending providence ; that it did not expend itself in one effort of creative power and foresight ; that, having interposed in ages past one after another display of its creative energies, those energies are to be re- garded as ever active, and that man is to feel that the power in which he lives and moves and has his being is as sleepless in vigilance as it is exhaustless in kindness and unfailing in rectitude. We cannot dismiss this branch of the subject without say- ing one word of the entire nullity of miracles as a ground of evidence, if they are only preordained results of physical law. In such case not only would the language in which they are de- scribed in the Bible be deceptive, but those who wrought them would in one important sense be impostors and the miracles themselves a fraud. They are now supposed to attest the agency of God in a supernatural manner; but this theory CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 125 makes them merely natural. They come before us, in the Bible, claiming regard as special signs and messengers from Heaven. But, if Mr. Babbage is correct, neither prophecy nor the ful- fillment of prophecy, neither prediction of the wonderful works of Christ, nor those works themselves, ought to awaken more awe or inspire a deeper sense of God's presence than the daily rising of the sun. All teachers who make God and immortality their theme would be alike Divine messengers, and would stand precisely on the same level, except as some might excel others in the matter of their instructions. Nay, the same foreknowledge which discerned occasion, and the same ordaining power which prepared the way for a Jesus or a Paul, may have provided also for a Mohammed or a Smith, And tyrant after tyrant, as he vies to become the scourge of God and the terror of mankind, would have to be ranked, on this principle, among Apostles and Missionaries of the Most High, — preadjusted parts in nature's universal plan. " If plagues and earthquakes break not Heaven's design. Why, then, a Borgia or a Catiline ? This may be the philosophy of a rationalizing poet, but it is surely not the philosophy of the Bible ; nor can it well be his who sees in God a universal, ever-gracious, and provident Father. II. We have thus spoken of the inconsistency of this theory of causation with what would seem to be the true character of God as gathered both from nature and from revelation. We come now to speak of its inconsistency with what must seem to be the nature and mission of man. It is often said that belief in the perfect uniformity of nature is instinctive in man ; that all our experience tends to ripen and strengthen this belief, and that any other supposition would render science impossible and action but a leap in the dark. That belief in the substantial uniformity of nature is intuitive we admit, and 126 THE THREE WITNESSES. we admit, too, that as we extend our acquaintance with the Divine works we often find order and uniformity where once we saw only confusion or supernatural interference. But we do not conceive that this intuitive belief is a precise lucasure of that uniformity which really exists in nature, any more than that our instinctive fear of danger or love of pleasure is a pre- cise measure of that which in the one or the other of these forms is approaching us. Each serves to admonish us of a general fact, and to impel us to ascertain its true character and extent. And we would remind those who reason other- wise, and who think that if there were to be any contingency in nature, — any possibility that the regular succession of cause and effect could be interrupted, — that there would then be an end of all science and all systematic industry ; to such we would say, that to man's mind there must, hi fact, ahvays be a vast world of contingencies. Whatever may be the case in na- ture considered absolutely, there is before him, however wide the horizon which his knowledge spreads out, an untrodden, unseen wilderness beyond, and to him that wilderness is crowded with uncertainties. He knows not what a day or an object may bring forth. Let him finish the most consummate specimen of workmanship; let science and art have done their best ; let no precautions against danger or disappointment be omitted, and yet in that master-piece there are still contingencies. Some latent disturbing cause may have eluded observation, and in a moment an engine, intended, perhaps, to be a terror only to foes and a strong bulwark to friends, may send a cry of horror through the surrounding throng, prostrate in death some of the most honored of the land, and spread wailing through many a happy household. So limited, after all, is man's knowledge. He discovers what he calls truth, but it is only an approximation, not an exact conformity, to things as they are. It embraces some, but not all the elements of the objective reality. And hence the differences between laws as laid down in CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 127 theory and as applied in practice. Man enlarges the boundaries of his intellectual prospect, but it is only to find that it con- nects itself, at innumerable points, with the yet more distant and unknown. But he does not, therefore, abandon inquiry ; he does not cease to reason or to act upon the probabilities of the future ; he provides for the morrow, though he knows not that the morrow's sun will ever rise upon him ; he engages in the ventures of life oftentimes when the chances of success are against him. And does he not do well ? To omniscience only could all the issues of the future be known — all be fixed and certain. To created minds much must ever appear con- tingent, and yet that much does not and ought not to prevent them from acting as though it were fixed and ascertainable. But we observe further that this belief in the uniformity of nature is not the only intuitive principle of the human mind. Is there not the sense also of the supernatural, — the idea that there is a power above nature, — and that this power is likely at times to interfere with the ordinary course of events? Why is it that men in the infancy of society are so prone to ascribe unwonted phenomena in the heavens or on the earth to Deities ? Why do they hear the voice of a spirit in the bowl- ings of the tempest, or see his form in the clouds ? Why do they people every grove and fountain and mountain-cleft with its Divinity ? Is it not the instinctive uprising of the soul towards the invisible and supersensual ? Is it not a pro- clamation sent forth from the innermost recesses of our hearts, saying there is more than eye sees or ear hears ? there is more than visible change following change in one eternal round ? there is a power that established that order for one wise pur- pose, and that may set it aside for another ? There is an eye that does not sleep and an arm that does not tire, — a power that sitteth on the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers, and it ordcreth all things accord- ing to the counsel of its own will. This, we say, is the instinctive language of the human heart. 128 THE THREE WITNESSES. As there is one inUdtive principle that points tozvards constancy, so there is anotlicr that points towards a source of change. Both are liable to excess and abuse. In the terrors and follies of superstition and fanaticism, — in the morbid fancy that sees a miracle in every eclipse or meteor or earthquake, a special providence in every act of man or nature, — we see the sense of the supernatural perverted and abused. But is there no perversion of our faith in nature's uniformity ? Whence most of the disappointments of life ? Whence the prejudices, the misjudgments, of all ? W^hence the visionar>^ schemes of prac- tical men, the idle speculations of theorists, the blind and braggart confidence which says all things continue as thcyxvere from the beginning, — to-morrozv shall be as to-day, and much more abundant? Where is the promise of Gods judgment? tush! He doth not regard. And through such confidence, what multitudes rush upon their own destruction ! All this is but an abuse and misapplication of our instinctive faith in nature's constancy, — a premature inference from the past to the future, from the known to the unknown, from what has been under certain circumstances to what will or may be under other and different circumstances. Both of these principles, as it seems to us, have an impor- tant office ; as both are liable to perversion. We strive to en- lighten and enlarge our views of natural causation — by the established order of sequences in nature; by observation and by analysis ; by reasoning and experience ; and thus we grad- ually attain to those larger views which characterize true phi- losophy, and are salutary guides in life. Should it not be so with the instinctive sense of the supernatural ? Should science, in its highest and truest sense, hope to advance or to reach a large and comprehensive view of things if it omit all reference to this deep and all-pervading element in the mind's opera- tions? The skeptic Comte may contend — as he does — that Science tends regularly to recede from the supernatural till it plants itself on the metaphysical, and from the metaphysical CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I2q again till it rests finally on the physical and positive. From him this might be expected. But is this the view which we should expect fi'om the true disciple of Bacon, — of him who wrote in this wise in his Confession of Faith, " I believe that notwithstanding God hath rested and ceased from creat- ing since the first Sabbath, yet, nevertheless, He doth accom- plish and fulfill his divine will in all things, great and small, singular and general, as fully and exactly by providence as He could by miracle and new creation, though his working be not immediate and direct, but by compass : not violating na- ture, which is his own law upon the creation ?" In respect to Providence, different views, we are aware, have been entertained. To some, as to Mr. Babbage and Mr. George Combe, Providence is but the prescience that foresaw and the preordaining power that in the beginning provided for every future contingency ; so that now the course of things flows on in obedience to nothing but inexorable law. But is such the view which meets the deep and irrepressible yearn- ings and convictions of the human soul? Is it only to an inflexible Law-maker that that soul cries for relief from the depth of its distress ? Its instinctive resort when awful dan- ger threatens, to a power above nature, — its appeal, when struggling with fierce temptation or with overpowering appe- tite, for spiritual succor to some Being that can act directly on the intellect, the affections, and the will, — its unshaken faith, when all things seem to be against it, that though the sea roar and the waves thereof be lifted up, there is One — a Father — sitting on high, who is mightier and who doeth all things well ; these sentiments, so instinctive and in- effaceable, not learnt from Scripture, but felt wherever the hu- man heart throbs with life and emotion, — were they given for naught ? Do they point to no corresponding reality ? or is the Being to whom they point one who operates on man only through fixed laws and properties, which he never modi- fies, never overrules, never disturbs? We put the authority 9 130 THE THREE WITNESSES. of the Bible here entirely out of the account. The great and wise men of the world, — those who have drunk deepest at the wells of uninspired wisdom, who hav^e seen with intui- tive glance farthest into the constitution of things, and whose intuitive perceptions have been most enlarged and ripened by- profound observation and reflection on the ways of men, and on the course of the world's history, — what has been their judg- ment ? Have they seen in Providence only foreknowledge and foreordaining power exerted in creation ? Have they seen only wisdom and might employed in establishing an irreversi- ble order of events which is destined to move on forever with- out superintendence or intervention ? or have they seen in it the supervision of an Infinite Father who is Governor as well as Creator of all his children, — who does not merely super- vise as spectator the movements of dead mechanism, but who, as active guide and director, presides over the voluntary agency of intelligent and moral beings, and though He works now no miracles in their behalf, yet causes established laws and op- erations to concur and coincide in a manner often the most remarkable, and— may we not add?— the most supernatural? On this point let Dr. Franklin answer. No one will accuse him of superstition, or of an undue regard for the supernatu- ral. All will admit that few men ever surpassed him as a shrewd observer of life and of human affairs, or as a profound inquirer after the causes and principles that lie at the bottom of great events. And what was his language when address- ing the Convention of the North American States, sitting in Philadelphia in 1787, to frame the Federal Constitution, in support of his motion for daily prayers in that body? It must be remembered that weeks had elapsed without the conven- tion having accomplished any part of its all-important work, and that irreconcilable differences seemed likely to defeat its purpose altogether. It was under these circumstances that the American sage introduced his resolution and made the following remarks : " In the beginning of the contest with CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. yX\ Britain," said he, " when we were sensible of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for the Divine protection. Our prayers, sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. All of us who were engaged in the struggle must have ob- served frequent instances of a superintending Providence in our favor. To that kind Providence we owe this happy op- portunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten this powerful friend ? or do we imagine we no longer need his as- sistance ? I have lived, sir, a long time (eighty-one years), and the longer I live the more convincing proofs I see of this truth, — that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a spar- row cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid ? We have been assured, sir, in the Sacred Writings, ' that except the Lord build the house they labor but in vain that build it' I firmly believe this, and I also believe that without his concurring aid we shall succeed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel ; we shall be divided by our little practical local interests ; our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall become a reproach and a by-word down to future ages ; and, what is worse, mankind may hereafter from this unfortunate instance despair of establishing government by human wisdom and leave it to chance, war, or conquest. I therefore beg leave to move that henceforth prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven and its blessings on our deliberations be held in this assembly every morning before we proceed to business, and that one or more of the clergy of the city be requested to officiate in that service." This is not the language of one who looked on God as in- exorable ; or, in other words, as a Lawgiver whose system is that of inflexible uniformity. And to whom were these words addressed ? Over this assembly presided George Washington, whose writings and whole life are more remarkable for nothing than for their frequent and pointed recognition of the agency 132 THE THREE WITNESSES. of the same Divine Providence. Those venerable men had passed together through times that emphatically tried their souls, and it was in that hot and fiery furnace that their labor- ing hearts had felt that succor from God was a necessity of our moral nature, and that man's extremity is God's oppor- tunity. Or, let us appeal, if we will, from the authority of Wash- ington and Franklin to that of Shakspeare, the " myriad- minded," of whom it hath been said, " The mind of Shak- speare was as a magic mirror, in which all human natures possible, forms, and combinations were present intuitively and inherently, not conceived, but as connatural portions of his own humanity." And what, according to him, is the language of the human heart when speaking from its deepest convic- tions ? — " Our indiscretions sometimes serve us well When our deep plots do pall ; and that should teach us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." A lesson so deeply imprinted on the poet's own mind that more than one of his dramas seem to have been constructed for the express purpose of exhibiting the workings of this Divine and special Providence in the affairs of men. On this great subject we do not purpose to touch any fur- ther than as it connects itself with the present state of science and with some of its supposed aberrations. As there are mathematicians and mechanical Philosophers who, in their views of the fixed order of nature, leave no place for miracles, so arc there mental philosophers and anthropologists who seem to leave no place for providence or prayer. As an example of the latter we may mention one whose name we have already introduced, and of whom we would speak without the least disrespect. No candid mind will deny that George Combe deserves on some accounts consideration and gratitude as one CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I^j who has done good service to philosophy and to mankind. In respect to the very matter under discussion, and in con- nection with which he seems to us obnoxious to grave cen- sure, he has still inculcated with great force, both of reasoning and of illustration, important and much-neglected lessons. He has taught, especially in his work entitled the Constitution of Man, that we live under a government of law, physical, or- ganic, and mental, which we are bound to respect and which it is not safe for us to disregard ; " that the good and evil of life are much more in our own hands than is generally sup- posed ; that many of the sufferings of humanity — sufferings too often considered as fixed by the Creator in the constitu- tion of the world — admit of removal by a greater knowledge of the laws of nature and a more careful application of that knowledge ; that many of the calamities of life ascribed to an inscrutable Providence may, on careful examination, be traced back to misconduct either in ourselves or in those whom we might have influenced to better things ; that an attention to one part of our duty will not exempt us from the conse- quences of neglecting another; and generally, that increased knowledge and virtue must necessarily draw after them greatly increased happiness." These are truths by no means new, yet much overlooked, and in urging them on men's notice and setting forth the great command which each one has over the sources of his own happiness Mr. Combe has rendered a use- ful service to mankind. Wherein, then, it may be asked, do we differ from his views? We answer, that we dissent from the fundamental idea of his speculations, which seems to assume that there cannot possi- bly be such a thing as contingency in the universe, and also from the exaggerated pictures of man's capabilities and con- sequent temporal responsibilities which he draws. Man, sole master of Ids oivn destiny by means of obedience to natural lazvs, is the sum and substance of Mr. Combe's Philosophy in the work just referred to (which is much the best, as it seems to 124 THE THREE WITNESSES. US, he ever wrote). Is this as true and comprehensive a phi- losophy as Shakspcare's, which assigns to man the humbler office of "rough-hewing" his ends, — to God the higher one of " shaping" them ? Who that traces back his own experience, or looks on the world around him, does not see an agency other than man's when av^ailing himself of Natural Laws ? Who does not see how little way, after all, our utmost knowl- edge of those laws, or our best obedience to them, can go towards compassing the good or shunning the evil of life ? And where would be the use of prayer if all things were or- dered by fixed and irreversible laws that regard not individ- uals, but have respect to masses only ? If nothing can ever accrue to us except through such laws moving in one ever- recurring round, — subject in no respect whatever to modifica- tion in themselves or in their connection with other laws, — then must every future event be absolutely fixed, and prayer to have it altered must be a sad masquerade, — as deficient in taste as it is in ingenuousness. To announce our wants to God cannot be its office, for to an Infinite Intelligence they must be known already. Nor, if this doctrine be true, can this knowledge be of any avail. To importune for special blessings, temporal or spiritual, would be superfluous, since those blessings, if they fall within the onward way of unalter- able laws, would become ours without prayer, and no prayer can procure them if they do not. To exert a persuasive in- fluence on the Divine mind is impossible, since that mind is inexorable. What, then, in such case, would prayer become but a species of pious legerdemain, where, under pretence of plead- ing with God for that which is no longer his to dispense, we gain the chance of communing with his spirit, and thus gain grace, — not, indeed, from Him, but by a species of self-devel- opment? Were such the Divine government, meditation not prayer, devout contemplation not entreaty or intercession, would befit alike man's estate and God's eternal majesty. But we conclude these strictures. We have succeeded in CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. j^C exploring but a part of the ground marked out in the begin- ning of this section. Besides the inconsistency of these ex- aggerated views of the constancy of nature with any intelH- gible theory of miracles or of Providence, we intended also to have pointed out their inconsistency with the moral freedom and responsibility of man, and with the existence of evil and disorder in our world. But these points we must omit. Our object has been to indicate a tendency towards fatalism, which appears to us to mark some of the developments of science in our day, and which is tantamount, of course, to a disposition to exclude the supernatural as an element from Philosophy. It is a tendency unfriendly, as we believe, to the best interests of science and of life. It leads to premature inductions, and to a presumptuous confidence that in Nature, as she now exhibits herself, we have a literal transcript of all the past and a minute circumstantial prophecy of all the future. It prevents us from remembering that all truth reached by induction, when made the basis of prediction and of prospective action, is contingent truth ; that it becomes us not to say that on such a day of such a year a certain phenomenon must and ivilL be ob- served; but that if God so will, or if existing circumstances remain unchanged, such phenomenon will occur. It gives us, too (this exclusive reference to fixed laws), an extravagant estimate of the value of our own knowledge, leading us to forget that any formula which the most profound philosopher may have constructed in order to embody facts, comprehends, after all, but a portion of the truth, and that there are count- less facts not yet explained by any philosophy. It sometimes contributes, too, to engender among scientific men a narrow- ness of mind which undervalues all other pursuits, and looks upon inquiries not pertaining to their favorite study as barren and unprofitable. It is, in fine, a tendency which, though most apt just now to infect physical science, will be likely to spread itself insidiously through the different branches of mental philosophy, and thus lead to the confounding of two worlds — 136 THE THREE WITNESSES. the natural and moral — which ancient philosophers were most anxious to keep asunder, while its influence in theology will be seen in an increasing disposition to eliminate the supernat- ural as well from the Bible as from nature. If such be the spirit and tendency of these views, we need not add that they must have the effect of obscuring our perceptions of God and of his agency, — leading us to refer it all to the beginning of the system ; or, if we recognize his present agency, leading us to view it as an agency restraining itself by unalterable laws, — enslaved, in truth, to its own irreversible system, just as the ancient poets represent the gods as striving in vain to save Caesar when his ruin had been decreed by an invisible and irresistible fate, — a fate that ruled absolutely over Divinities as well as over men. Need we add, that with such views of God there can be little of filial confidence among his creat- ures,— little of that life of faith which, in the midst of the world's vicissitudes, is the happiest as well as the noblest of lives, and little of that love that casteth out fear and is the spring of a service which is perfect freedom ? IV, SCIENCE AND RELIGION. Before unfolding the doctrines of Natural Theology by the aid of Science, we shall offer some further general remarks on the connection bcHveen Natural and Divine TriitJi, or, in other words, on the Relation between Science and Religion or be- tween Philosophy and Theology, understanding by the former the aggregate of various systems of Natural Knowledge; by the latter the aggregate of various systems of religious doc- trine, whether inspired or uninspired, — Christian, Jewish, or Pagan. It is a subject both difficult and important. In the history of the past few things are more striking than the changes which have taken place in the relative bearings of Science and Theology. In the East (Asia especially) they have generally CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. ^Z7 been blended, and in most instances confounded, — Theology taking the initiative and maintaining the ascendency, and Phi- losophy unfolding itself no further than might suit the tastes or subserve the views of a reigning priesthood. In the West, from very early periods, philosophy seems to have had a more independent existence, and to have dwelt less and less, as it advanced, upon theological views, though those views can always be traced, even in the schools of Grecian sages, modi- fying the prevailing spirit and tendency of speculation. Under the Roman Empire philosophy, whether employed in assailing or in vindicating Christianity, partook largely of the theological spirit, being sometimes paramount, but generally subordinate, to religion. During the earlier half of the Middle Ages Theol- ogy, under the auspices of an educated clergy and in the midst of general ignorance and barbarism, became altogether ascendant, and philosophy could hardly have been said to exist. In the later parts of the mediaeval period there was a gradual separation of the two, though Theology still strug- gled, with the aid of Aristotle, to retain the human mind under its exclusive authority. The Reformation, aided as it was by the Revival of Letters and by the advance of Physical Science, contributed much to emancipate thought, and thus to cultivate a spirit of free inquiry in Philosophy as well as in Theology, — a spirit which degenerated, however, too often, as might have been expected, into licentiousness. Ever since that era each has been struggling for a separate existence, yet neither has been willing- to surrender its claim to control and direct the other. So many topics are common to both that, whether the point of departure be theological or philosophical, we necessarily soon reach a common ground, and on that ground these two powers often encounter with passionate animosity. Instead of each leaving to the other its own peculiar jurisdiction over such questions, both are anxious for the mastery, and each would dictate to the other by what rules it shall interpret and reason, and to what results 138 THE THREE WITNESSES. it shall attain. Hence the oscillating tendencies which may- be observed since Bacon's time, — perhaps we ought to add through all time, — now towards a philosophical theology, now towards a theological philosophy. When, under the auspices of some great master like Locke or Kant, philosophy becomes an object of universal interest to the thinking world, its ex- pounder is recognized as Supreme Legislator of thoughts, and men of every profession, sacred or secular, are expected to conform their methods of reasoning and study to his high decrees. On the other hand, let a great theological mind arise like Augustine or Ansclm, Calvin or Edwards, and he impresses a deep theological dye on Philosophy and Litera- ture. Thus, at one time we find a rationalistic or skeptical spirit pervading theology, just as at another time we find a high supersensuous and religious tone pervading philosophy. All this, however, is not without collision and conflict — many minds resist with vehemence. Passions are roused and mu- tual denunciations hurled abroad, yet the current sets steadily forward, till, startled at the portentous visage of their own opinions, as seen in an ally or as portrayed by an adversary, men recoil under some new leader and recommence a similar cycle of debate and denunciation. He must have overmuch confidence in his own sagacity w'ho can hope to arbitrate between these conflicting claims of Science and Theology. While charges of Atheism or impiety on the one hand are met by accusations of ignorance and su- perstition on the other, it is evident that neither is in a temper to accommodate or compromise differences. But we may predict what means, though often tried, will prove insufficient to this end, and we may at the same time suggest a remedy which might be simple and efficacious. It is sometimes pro- posed that all attempts to reconcile Science and Religion shall be abandoned, the naturalist holding, perchance, that it is im- practicable,— the supernaturalist, that the very attempt is an indignity to the sacred interests of Religion. Such persons CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 1 39 forget that the attempt to harmonize different systems of truth is one from which the human mind cannot refrain, since it is an innate and irrepressible conviction of that mind that all truth is one, is pervaded by some all-comprehending principle of unity and correspondence ; and it can never rest till that bond has been discovered and every branch of human knowl- edge has been made to take its place in some symmetrical system. This striving after unity in truth is probably but an effort to vindicate the unity of God himself, and may spring from an intuitive perception of that great religious truth. These same persons forget, too, that the attempt to divorce entirely these two great branches of knowledge from one another would, if successful, be fraught with evil to both. Science, pursued without reference to Religion, tends down- wards to skepticism, fatalism, and sensualism. Theology, studied without regard to the principles of a sound philoso- phy, becomes loose, dogmatic, and intolerant. On the other hand, any attempt to amalgamate them must prove hereafter, as it has always proved, injurious to both. If Religion, considered as a mere theory and as distinct from practical piety, predominate, it will render Science timid and time-serving, or wild and unmethodical. If Philosophy pre- dominate, Religion will become its supple slave, and instead of speaking to man in tones of solemn authority, it will aspire only to the rank of humble counsellor ; man will become the god of his own idolatry, and religious faith but the assent of his understanding to its own independent perceptions or deductions. It is believed that the only safe course is to leave each in undisturbed possession of its own province, and to encourage each to explore that province in the free use of its own methods and instruments, — the province of philosophy being, first, an inquiry into the grounds and principles of all truth; secondly, the investigation of particular truths in respect to second causes : the province of theology being an inquiry into 140 THE THREE WITNESSES. the existence, nature, and relations, to his creatures or to second causes, of the First Cause. The methods or instru- ments of investigation in Philosophy being intuition, observa- tion, and reasoning directed mainly, though not entirely, to Nature: the methods in Theology being intuition, observa- tion, interpretation, and reasoning, directed both to Nature and to Revelation. All danger from the utmost latitude of investigation would disappear, if philosophers and theologians could remember a few simple facts. First, the philosopher should remember that though it is his province and privilege to investigate causes and first principles, he always remains a moral and accountable being, and that he is solemnly bound to render judgment according to evidence, without fear, favor, or partiality; that he cannot approach so high a duty prop- erly unless he have a serious and candid frame of mind ; and that, as the human soul is finite and the world of truth infinite, he cannot fail, whatever line of investigation he takes, to reach ere long some limit beyond which all will be vague conjecture or presumptuous dogmatism, and that at that limit he must be content to wonder and adore. If God has spoken, how- ever, on such subjects, he must be willing to bow in implicit faith before an understanding which cannot err and will not mislead. On the other hand, the theologian must recollect that though it is his province to study the highest of all themes, and to do it with the aid of peculiar light, he still remains a rational being, the processes of whose mind, if they would conform to truth or carry conviction to others, must be directed by the same logical and philosophical rules that direct the humblest inquirer. If these two maxims, simple as they appear, were once observed, all occasion for conflict between Philosophy and Theology would gradually disappear; it would be seen that, though each has its own independent domain, they still co-operate in one common pursuit of truth, and that each can render to the other most essential aid, while it has nothing to apprehend from that other's growing favoi CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I^I with men, or its extended and still extending influence in the realms of knowledge and thought. To render this more apparent we will consider for a mo- ment the relations of Science both to Natural and to Revealed Religion. Let us premise, however, that by Science or Philosophy (for I use the terms here as synonymous) we understand the whole sum of human knowledge and speculation, as the same has been gathered and digested into books and systems by the learned and wise. There is an immense amount of prac- tical wisdom which has no definite place in books or systems, though it is exceedingly useful in life. This, of course, is not comprehended in what we here term science or philosophy. As the result of all researches and investigations up to this time, there is an assemblage of truths and of approximations to truth respecting man and nature which is far from consti- tuting the one only system of universal truth, but which must approach to it nearer in proportion as reason has been developed, in proportion as the principles and true ends of philosophy have been comprehended, and the methods and instruments of investigation perfected and applied. To this assemblage of truths and theories we give the name of Science or Phi- losophy. It comes before us under different phases. In one school it confines itself to the positive and phenomenal, — to that which can be ascertained and verified by precise induc- tions from observed facts. In another, there is more depend- ence on intuitive notions, on instinctive feelings, and irrepress- ible beliefs. It deals less with facts and observed connections, — more with ultimate causes and principles ; and has, on that account, gained the name sometimes of metaphysical or speculative, sometimes of spiritual or transcendental, philoso- phy. Each of these again has two phases. On the one hand, Inductive, or, as it is sometimes called. Empirical Philosophy, — the philosophy of facts clearly represented to sense or to con- sciousness,— may repudiate all innate ideas and spontaneous J. 2 THE THREE WITNESSES. emanations of thou^dit with Locke in mental philosophy or with Comte in Physical Science ; or it may insist upon them with Coleridge while treating of the former, or with Whewell while exploring the Philosophy of all the Inductive Sciences. So metaphysics may confine itself to the sensuous with Aristotle or embrace the supersensuous with Plato. In religion we shall find the same diversity, — some being disposed to approach it primarily with the understanding, and to scrutinize it in a free and critical spirit ; others being in- clined to contemplate it mainly through the medium of the sentiments and affections, and with a reverent, unquestioning spirit. Each of these systems — whether of Science or of The- ology— will be likely to come into conflict with its counter- part or antagonist. Positive physical science and metaphysi- cal philosophy often evince the want of mutual sympathy in respect to each other. In like manner spiritual or ideal phi- losophy, whether applied to the inductive sciences or to metaphysics, looks down with contempt on the merely em- pirical and physical ; and the latter is not slow to reciprocate the scorn. So it is with what may be termed the spiritual and rationalistic schools in theology, though here again there is a marked difference and want of congeniality between those whose reverence is directed toward the divine authority of Scripture simply and those who adopt any visible exponent of the Word. Whether in tradition or in Church authority, as among the rationalistic, there is a wide difference between those who would apply freely to the investigation of religious truth, bowing, however, always to the clear decisions of Rev- elation, and those, on the other hand, who think those de- cisions, however clearly defined by the laws of exegesis, may still be modified to render them congruous with the inde- pendent deductions of reason and experience. In the attempt to harmonize Science and Religion, these opposing tendencies in each must evidently complicate the problem. It is worthy of remark, that hitherto each has suffered quite as much from CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 1 4^ the rashness of friends as from the violence of foes. The fondness of the philosophic world for its own theories and speculations has prompted it to slight the claims of Revealed and Natural Religion, as, on the other hand, the hasty and unmeasured resentment which good men have conceived against the bold conclusions of Science have tended to diffuse and perpetuate a dread of philosophic studies. The friends of Revelation, too, in their anxiety to avert what they consider imminent danger to precious truth, some- times hazard interpretations of the sacred volume which are untenable, and lay down dogmas in Science which betray the utmost degree of ignorance and presumption. On the opposite side, the votary of Science displays a flip- pancy, in regard to Revelation and the protests and reclama- tions which its friends advance, that evinces equal arrogance and weakness. Happy the man whose comprehensive mind and generous love of truth dispose him to accept of light from whatever quarter, and who believes that whether it flow directly from the sun at noonday or come to him after being reflected from other objects celestial or terrestrial, or though it be shed upon him from a glimmering taper, it is essentially the same elemental substance, and is ever the enemy of that darkness which is but another name for evil ! And he is strong in the confidence that ultimately truth of every kind will be found to harmonize with truth, — that Natural and Supernatu- ral will be found radiant alike with blessing to man and Glory to God. I. SCIENCE AND NATURAL RELIGION. What, then, is the relation between Science and Natural Re- ligion? It is becoming common for scientific writers to rep- resent Natural Theology as a superstructure raised on the sole basis of scientific inductions, and especially physical in- ductions. Thus Powell, an eminent mathematician, in his work on the Connection of tJie Natural and Divine Truth, declares in terms that "the speculations of physical science afford the 144 "^^^ THREE WITNESSES. only legitimate and substantial ground on which a reasoning inquirer can build his most sublime proofs of the existence and attributes of the Divine Being." " In rejecting," he says, " the evidence of inductive science, we are rejecting that of Natural Theology." If he had said that tvhcn we employed scientific induction as the basis of our reasonings in Natural Theology, the validity of the latter must depend upon the legitimacy of the former, no exception could be taken to his views ; but his language evidently implies much more than this : it implies that science, and especially physical science, affords the only "rational" grounds for Natural Theology. Who does not see the fallacy of this position ? Were man- kind utterly without valid proofs of the Divine existence and attributes until modern Inductive Science had supplied them ? Was it only sophistry that convinced the sages of old of these great truths ? When Socrates, in his conversation with Aris- todemus, so clearly expounds the argument from final causes, was that argument essentially vitiated by his ignorance of the doctrines of modern Astronomy or Geology? or was it neces- sary that he should have been familiar with the discoveries and speculations of modern Physiology before he and those who heard him could be certified of the logical soundness of the following argument ? " Is not that Providence," says Soc- rates,— as reported in the Memorabilia, — "is not that Provi- vidence, Aristodemus, in a most eminent manner conspicuous, which, because the eye of man is so delicate in its contexture, hath therefore prepared eyelids, like doors, whereby to secure it, — which extend of themselves whenever it is needful and again close when sleep approaches ? Arc not those eyelids, provided as it were with a fence on the edge of them, to keep off the winds and guard the eye ? Even the eyebrow itself is not without its office ; but as a penthouse is prepared to turn off the sweat which, falling from the forehead, might enter and annoy that no less tender than astonishing part of us. Is it not to be admired, too, that the ears should take in CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. I^c sounds of every sort and yet be not too much filled by them? that the foreteeth of the animal should be formed in such a manner as is evidently best suited for the cutting of its food, as those on the side are for grinding it in pieces ? that the mouth, through which this food is conveyed, should be placed so near the nose and the eyes as to prevent the passing unno- ticed whatever is unfit for nourishment, while Nature, on the contrary, hath set at a distance and concealed from the senses all that might disgust or in any way offend them ? And canst thou still doubt, Aristodemus, whether a disposition of parts like this should be the work of chance or of wisdom and con- trivance ?" Happily the tokens of Divine existence and perfection have been written so plainly on the face of Nature that he who knows little of the wonders of Inductive Philosophy can still assure himself of the great truths of Natural Religion. The harmony and order which evidently characterize so many of the changes around him, and the marks of intelligence and wise adaptations which abound everywhere, are conclusive, and justly conclusive, with thousands who know nothing of Science. Otherwise, men's power of discerning God, and the obligations which result from our relations to Him, would depend on their geographical position or on the age in which they live. They who now live without the circle which sepa- rates the civilized from the uncivilized portions of the Earth, or they in Christendom who died before the discoveries which have rendered modern philosophy so illustrious, would be able to justify their unbelief and impiety by their ignorance. Not so reasons Paul ; for, says he, speaking of ancient Pa- gans, " the invisible things of God are clearly seen, being un- derstood by the things that are made." Not so reason even the rude barbarians who dwell amid Arctic snow. Said a Greenlander, " It is true that we were ignorant heathen, and knew little of a God till you came ; but you must not imagine that no Greenlander thinks of these things. A kajak (boat), lO 146 THE THREE WITNESSES. with all its tackle and implements, cannot exist but by the labor of man, and one who does not understand it would spoil it ; but the meanest bird requires more skill to make it than the best kajak, and no man can make a bird. There is still more skill required to make a man ! By whom, then, was he made ? He proceeded from his parents, — they from their parents ; but some one must have been the first parents. Whence did they proceed ? Common report says that they grew out of the earth. If so, why do not men still grow out of the earth ? and whence came the earth itself, the sun, the moon, and the stars ? Certainly there must be some Being who made all these things, — a Being more wise than the wisest man." But would we teach that Natural Theology, because not entirely dependent on Inductive Philosophy, is therefore alto- gether independent of all Science and all Philosophy ? Far from it. It may be greatly indebted to several branches of Philosophy, and needs their aid. It needs, for example, the aid of logic to scrutinize its grounds and methods of reason- ing, and to exclude those fallacies which not only vitiate its conclusions but awaken prejudice in the minds of acute and thinking men. It needs the aid of Inductive Science, whether physical, intellectual, or moral. Every general law established by induction in some way illustrates an attribute of the Deity, and thus adds strength and imprcssiveness to the simple arguments furnished by ordinary experience. The more comprehensive these generalizations become, the more do they tend to teach the unity of the Di- vine Mind, and the wider the space over which they sweep and the remoter the periods in the dim past to which they conduct us, the more conclusive the inductive proofs they furnish of the Divine immensity and immutability. A simple fact, such as the structure of a reed or quill, might teach Galileo the existence of a God ; but it needs those sublime inductions which were built up by his memorable labors, united with CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. j^y theirs who preceded and followed Him. It needs these to fill the mind with yet more worthy thoughts of the Being who planned and built and still maintains a universe so glorious. Hence it is perfectly true, that with every advance in In- ductive Philosophy new light will be cast on the doctrines of Natural Religion. The evidence on which they rest is already sufficient to command assent ; but their outline embraces vast space and a boundless multitude of objects and truths. In proportion as these are better understood they will be found more and more rich in striking illustrations of truths already received, but with a too torpid acquiescence, — truths which need the light and interest of such illustrations to verify them and to make them objects of cordial regard. Hence the ar- gument of Natural Theology, although complete in its essential parts, will need to be reconstructed from time to time, that it may embody these new discoveries of natural truth. The rapid progress of physical and physiological Science, since Paley's time, has justified the reproduction of his admirable work, with copious notes, embracing recent discoveries by Lord Brougham and Sir Charles Bell. The same cause has given birth to the Bridgewater Treatises, which aim, especially, at an application to religious uses of the triumphs that have been won, during the last century, in every field of inductive inquiry, — more particularly in that which is physical. These must in their turn become in a measure obsolete, as Chemis- try, Physics, and Physiology gain new positions and a deeper insight into nature, though no lapse of time can shake the justness of much of their reasoning nor the pertinency and beauty of many of their illustrations. The progress of Moral and Social Science supplies in like manner a new fund of ma- terial from which writers have not yet drawn with much co- piousness, though it is in many respects pre-eminently fitted to furnish impressive and convincing proofs of the moral per- fections of the Deity, of the solemn relations He sustains to us, and of the retribution we may expect at his hands. Let 148 THE THREE WITNESSES. US, then, welcome each new laborer in a vineyard which can- not be too well tilled, and which is destined to yield riches not yet conceived of in our philosophy. It has been objected to this extended array of natural truths in illustration of the Divine character and will, that it is super- fluous, since " the simple argument of Cicero, with his slight physiological knowledge, is as convincing (says a writer from whom I quote*) as the minute treatises of Paley and Buck- land, and, indeed, more so, since the array and minuteness of proof in the treatises of the latter authors are apt to engender that very skepticism which they were designed to cure." The same writer contends that " much attention to that evidence which we derive from Physical Science is indicative of a skep- tical rather than a believing age." And he stigmatizes the attempts which are often made to demonstrate the harmony of the Bible with Natural Science " as attempts that can only provoke the sneer of the sagacious infidel, regarding them, as he must, as evidence of an uneasy, dissatisfied faith." To these remarks, which imply a threefold objection, we answer — 1st. That though the argument of Cicero may have been con- clusive, its brevity prevents its full effect on the mind ; and that hence we need the copious instances furnished by mod- ern writers, and especially by modern scientific discoveries, to awaken attention. We need them not so much to prove as to render proof impressive and influential. As to the tend- ency of an array and minuteness of proof to engender skep- ticism, this will depend altogether on the manner in which the arguments are stated. If they are put forth timidly, as if the author felt at every step that he is treading on doubtful ground, the effect may well be such as the objector alleges. But how is it with Paley ? Does he write in this spirit ? To use his own language: " Were there no example in the world of contrivance except that of the eye, it would be alone suffi- * Dr. Tayler Lewis. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 149 cient to support the conclusion which we draw from it as to the necessity of an intelligent Creator." " The proof is not a conclusion that lies at the end of a chain of reasoning, of which chain each instance of contrivance is only a link, and of which if one link fails the whole falls, but it is an argument separately supplied by every separate example. An error in stating an example affects only that example. The argument is cumulative in the strictest sense." 2d. In ascribing the many works of the present age on Natural Theology to a skeptical rather than to a believing spirit, the critic seems to have overlooked one or two impor- tant facts : — First, the amazing progress of natural Science during the last half-century has contributed to render earlier works on Natural Religion obsolete. In the second place, in view of this progress of physical science there would arise among good men a natural desire to render it subservient to the honor of God ; and how could this be done so well as by exhibiting Science as the handmaid of Religion ? It was no uneasy, dissatisfied faith that led Mr. Lowell and the Earl of Bridc^ewater to make their munificent offerings to this cause. On the contrary, the one expressly declares in his will as his motive for founding these Lectures, his deep conviction that " the most certain and the most important part of true phi- losophy is that which shows the connection between God's Revelation and the knowledge of good and evil implanted by Him in our nature." The other, a clergyman of the Estab- lished Church of England, firm in his faith, seems only anx- ious that science and learning — "discoveries, ancient and modern, in arts, sciences, and the whole extent of literature" — shall have the privilege of serving before the altar of the Christian's God. In the third place, let me remark, that the skeptical writings of the last century — combined with other causes — had imbued many of the students of physical science, especially on the continent of Europe, with the poison of in- fidelity ; and that poison was but too apt to distill through ISO THE THREE WITNESSES. their writings. They were by no means slow to insist upon every development in Nature which might be made to appear inconsistent with Christianity or with the doctrine of final causes as apphed to reHgion. To neutrahze the effect of these speculations required such works as this objector reprobates, — works in which we have a spectacle that one might suppose would cheer any devout mind, — the spectacle of men eminent among the Mathematicians, Astronomers, Chemists, and Nat- uralists of the age consecrating their science and their fame to the service of religious faith. If this be an age, as is said, of unprecedented devotion to physical studies, and if the tend- ency of such studies be, as is also alleged, to sensualize the mind and rob it of its highest aspirations, ought we not to hail every effort to counteract such tendencies, and show that jewels can be extracted even from the head of the most un- sightly reptile ? The writer to whom I especially refer repro- bates the supercilious air so often assumed towards our faith by Physical Science, as if she were an all-important auxiliary, or the only sufficient defender of Religion. Let that arro- gance be rebuked, but let no disposition which science may display to devote her powers to the upbuilding of God's Tem- ple be repressed. Instead of denouncing such multiplied attempts, let us rather welcome them as indications of a grow- ing sympathy between two most powerful agents in the great work of human improvement, — as a reaction against that skeptical spirit which not long since made the terms Savant 2Si^ Atheist almost synonymous in France, and too often applicable to the same persons in England. The man of science will never want respect and sympathy in the ranks of unbelief. Conscious that their cause is at war with the prevailing senti- ments and the traditionary convictions of mankind, they look for countenance and support to philosophy. That they have seemed to find it so frequently may be ascribed, perhaps, as much to the ill-judged opposition which science has encoun- tered at the hands of theologians as to any inherent tendency CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. j f j of science itself towards skepticism. If the man whose life is spent in the laborious investigations of inductive philoso- phy, in an honest endeavor to enlarge the domain of human knowledge, and thereby extend our moral and physical re- sources ; if such an one receive only reproach and maledic- tion from those who claim to be the peculiar friends of Divine truth ; if he find his motives misconceived, his labors under- valued, and the whole spirit and tendency of his pursuits mis- construed,— is it strange that he should feel some disgust at the injustice ? And when, on the other hand, he turns towards the hosts of Infidelity and finds that they cheer him forward with smiles and loud applauses while they proclaim them- selves the exclusive friends of free inquiry, is it strange that he should sometimes feel tempted to cast in his lot with those from whom at the very moment his deepest and most sacred sentiments bid him recoil ? Groundless jealousy, among the good, in regard to the proper tendency of scientific studies, has already done infinite mischief alike to Religion and to Philosophy. But this mischief it can do still more effectually and fatally in our day. Physical Science has become a pal- pable and prodigious benefactor of mankind, — its benefits are augmenting daily ; it has quadrupled the power of human industry, and added immensely to the practical efficacy of every kind of talent. The mass of men are now convinced that it is an auxiliary whose services are not only valuable but indispensable. Is it wise to call upon them to regard its methods and researches as the enemy of sacred truth, or as an ally whose fidelity is always to be suspected ? How many revolting against such appeals may find themselves tempted to prefer the present and palpable good proffered by science to the spiritual and invisible, though infinitely nobler, blessings proffered by Religion! What multitudes of the ignorant and unreflecting have already been driven into the foul em- brace of irreligion by hearing that science lauded by Infidels which they have heard stigmatized by believers ! 152 THE THREE WITNESSES. Were this the injudicious course of the bigoted and blinded alone, it would threaten less injury; but, unhappily, their senseless cry is sometimes caught up and echoed by the learned and thoughtful. There is a mystical theology, — the natural reaction from a cold and rationalizing system, — which persuades itself that it does God service even when denounc- ing God's truth, should that truth have been discovered with- out the limits of the Christian fold or by methods not theo- logical or transcendental. They regard theology or meta- physics not only as the paramount study, but as that which may claim rightful jurisdiction overall other studies; and they look on inquiries into physical causes as having a necessary tendency to unspiritualize the mind and to fill it with pride and self-conceit. How are they to be disabused of this mournful mistake? How is the mischief that they are about to inflict (none the less effectual because their intentions are good) to be averted ? How is the skeptic to be deprived of the ex- ceedingly specious argument which he founds on the fact that he is a better friend to philosophy and science than the Chris- tian ? How are the ignorant and unreflecting to be won back from the sore delusion now possessing so many, — that if they admit religious faith to a dominion over their minds they must forego the benefits and prospects which they associate with advancing Science? How are they to be established in the conviction so just, so accordant with all reason and all history, that our holy religion is the friend of all truth, — the generous patron alike of Science and of letters. I answer, that the means are various ; but among them I cannot but reckon as important the study of Science in refer- ence not only to physicalhnt also to final causes. We should be taught to see in science not only laws but adaptations, and these adaptations should be considered not only in themselves, but as tokens and evidences of a designing mind. I am well aware of the confusion which was formerly in troduced into Inductive philosophy by mistaking final for CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 153 physical causes, by supposing that we had accounted for phe- nomena when we had discovered their uses or adaptations. But all danger from this quarter is at an end. The distinction between these two causes, so clearly pointed out by Bacon, is now so rooted in the minds of educated men that there is hardly a possibility of its being lost, and all the methods of reasoning and research in physics tend to perpetuate it. The danger now is from the opposite quarter. When Sir Samuel Romilly called on Diderot in Paris, the latter complained that the English mingled theology with philosophy. It was neces- sary, he S3\d,dbrcrla theologie. After mentioning the almost universal prevalence of Atheism among the philosophers of France, he added, that Chancellor Bacon was one of the greatest men England ever produced, and that Bacon said, " causa finalis est virgo Deo sacrata qiicB niliil parity It is easy to perceive here an entire misconception of Bacon's re- mark. In imputing barrenness to final causes, the founder of modern philosophy had reference only to their power of un- folding physical truths, — they were barren in respect to a knowledge of physical lav/s. But Diderot would understand him to affirm universal sterility, whereas from the very sentence he quotes it is evident that by speaking of them as conse- crated like the vestal virgins to the service of God, Bacon would intimate that they had a high office, even that of keeping alive in the human heart the flame of religious faith, and of lead- ing our thoughts towards that great Being who has thus made every object and every event expressive of his character and will. Recoiling from the confusion produced by misapplying final and neglecting physical causes, philosophers have tended, during the last century, towards the opposite extreme. In Physics, they have omitted the consideration of uses and adaptations almost entirely, and in Physiology they have rarely risen above them to the proofs which they offered of Divine Intelligence and Goodness. To theologians and others 154 THE THREE WITNESSES. writing professedly on religious .subjects, they have left it to make those applications of physical truth to illustrate the Divine glory, which can hardly ever be misplaced, and which have peculiar force when they occur in scientific works, and in im- mediate connection with the orderly exposition of laws and principles. It will be an auspicious day for Religion and for Science when this practice ceases and the scientific writer recognizes his high office as an expounder of laws emanating at first from an Almighty and All-wise Legislator, and still directed by his Providence and pervaded by his energy. Such a course will do much to wipe away the reproach which now rests on Science by reason of her silence in view of the greatest wonders she unfolds. It will accustom the student of Nature to retain God in all his thoughts, and to cultivate that reverent and yet earnest and searching spirit, which is the surest guar- antee of successful inquiry. The doctrine of final causes — the idea that every part of the living structure, for example, has an end and use — has proved, in our time, to be the great torch of Physiologists. It has guided a Harvey and a Cuvier to their noblest discov- eries ; and just in proportion, it seems to me, as the inquirer recognizes the Divine will in these adaptations and endeavors to catch their prevailing spirit, just in that proportion will they serve as a clue to new discoveries. When he stands on the line that separates the known and the unknown, and is about to set his foot on untrodden ground, — is about to draw aside the veil that man's eye has never yet pierced, — what an awe falls upon his spirit ! How lightly docs he tread, as if the place were holy ! and with what trembling hand does he expose, even to his own view, these hidden mysteries ! What is this but a secret, unbidden consciousness that something more than dead nature is before him ? and why should not a rational being like man — especially when he devotes himself to study — recognize, of choice and habitually, that Divine Presence which he cannot altogether forget ? CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 155 In order to cultivate such a spirit as I have here noticed, we need works which discuss adaptations as well as laws, and which set forth these adaptations as significant tokens of the Divine hand. It is true that such adaptations have been unfolded to a greater or less extent in all the works on Natural Theology since the time of Ray and Desham. But these works are, in a great measure, fragmentary. Each writer presents so much of science only as may suit his more immediate purposes, and this he presents in relations very unlike those which the same truths maintain in regular systems of Inductive Philosophy. Such works as I suggest would exhibit the principles of each branch of knowledge in their regular order, and with simple proofs of each principle would connect extended illustrations of its uses and of the light it casts on the Divine Character. It would cultivate in the reader that habit of seeing God in everything, which is the most essential element of true piety. It would transform Inductive Science from a science of things to one of persons, — causing it to speak to our affections, and even to our conscience. It would exhibit, to us the material world, not merely as it is in itself, but as it is in its relations to God, — its master-builder and keeper — and to man, and countless other beings, its tenants, — tenants endowed, some only with faculties to feel and enjoy, others with faculties to investigate and act as well as enjoy. It would thus invest physical laws with an inexpressible moral interest, and put into every object and event a tongue that would plead with touching and solemn eloquence for God and duty. Such an alliance between Science and Religion could injure neither, and would benefit both ; it would involve no sacrifice of the independence of either. Science, by the rigorous use of her own methods, would ascertain facts and laws. Religion would trace these laws in their connection with their great Author. Science would supply to Religion illustration and arguments. Religion would repay the debt by shedding on Science her own humble and yet earnest spirit. Science would 156 THE THREE WITNESSES. serve, but with a service which is perfect freedom. Rch'gion would command, but with an authority that seems to dehght in condescending, — in ministering rather than in being minis- tered to. It would be union, yet each would retain its own rights and prerogatives ; it would be co-operation, but the co- operation of independent powers, — each sovereign within its own limits, but each rejoicing to offer homage to a common Parent and to each other. The skeptic would see in its proof that he can hope nothing to his cause from the swelling tri- umphs of Inductive Philosophy. The mystic would be con- vinced that the most spiritual form of Christianity can incur no danger from a study of the natural, which serves thus di- rectly to lead the mind to the supernatural. He would see that "next to the word of God the most certain cure for su- perstition," to use the language of Bacon, " as well as the most approved aliment of faith, is Natural Philosophy. Well, therefore, has it been given to Religion as a most faithful Ser- vant, since the one makes known the will, the other, the power of God." The philosopher would be reminded continually that there is something higher than his sublimest generaliza- tions, and the theologian would be taught that he can borrow from philosophers art and skill whereby to turn over page after page of new revelations in respect to God's eternal Power and Wisdom. In the language of Boyle,"*" " Natural Philoso- phy, like Jacob's vision, discovers to us a ladder whose top reaches up to the footstool of the throne of God." " Let no man," says Bacon, " upon a weak conceit of sobriety or an ill-applied moderation, think or maintain that a man can search too far or be too well studied in the book of God's word or in the book of God's works ; but rather let him en- deavor an endless progress or proficience in both, only let men beware that they apply both to charity and not to swell- * Vol. i. p. 458, fol. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 157 ing, — to use and not to ostentation ; and again, that they do not unwisely mingle or confound these learnings together."* SCIENCE AND REVELATION. Having offered some remarks on the Connection between Science and Natural Religion, we proceed now to examine the relation of Science to Revealed Religion. It involves questions of greater delicacy and complexity than any we have yet noticed : how far Science is bound to defer to Revelation ; how their teachings, when seemingly discordant, can be reconciled ; whether either has anything to apprehend from the prevalence and extension of the other. These are questions which have been often and earnestly dis- cussed, but they have not received a full solution. As usual, the most extreme and contradictory opinions have been maintained. Some, like Hutchinson and his fol- lowers (Bishop Home, Jones of Nayland, and Parkhurst), have taught that the Scriptures are a text-book not only in Reli- gion and morals, but also in Natural Philosophy, and that by the light which Revelation affords, compared with their own observations, they were able — to use the language of Bishop Home — "to see farther into the constitution of the Universe and the operations carried on in it than Sir I. Newton him- self had done."t The same spirit may be recognized in some of the speculations of Biblical Geologists in our own day. On the other hand, it is maintained not only by skeptics but by some Christian philosophers, that to "expect or to wish to find in Scripture any confirmation of the results of inductive Science to attach importance to the accordance between the descriptive or poetical language of the Bible and the conclu- sions of philosophy on the one hand, or to consider the * Bacon's Advancement of Learning, Book I. f Bishop Home's Works, vi. p. 445. 1^8 THE THREE WITNESSES. want of such accordance as any objection on the other, — to seek to prop up the credit of the sacred writers on the verbal coincidences with physical results or to deny that there is es- sential discrepancy, is absurd, and that the best way is boldly to front the difficulty and avow the contradiction in plain terms."* Between these extreme opinions writers will be found in- clining to one or the other in every degree of approximation. To the most dispassionate and impartial inquirer the subject cannot but present itself under two aspects not easily recon- ciled. Recognizing the inspiration and Divine authority of the Scriptures, we cannot brook the suggestion that they con- tain material errors ; yet, in proportion as we study the la- borious inductions of modern science, we cannot but perceive the apparent incompatibility of some of its results with the most generally received meaning of certain passages in the Bible. The difficulty is real, and can hardly fail, at times, to be embarrassing and painful. To dismiss it with the summary remark that the Bible was not given to teach us physical truth, or that those of its passages which are at variance with the conclusions of science are figurative, or are mere accom- modations to prevailing belief, is but meagre satisfaction. In proportion as the believer feels that the Scriptures are of in- expressible importance to him and to mankind, in the same proportion must he be jealous of their fair fame as oracles of God, and he cannot but look with solicitude on any portion of them which sets forth not merely as phenomenon but as fact that which science (physical or mental) confidently de- clares to be impossible. He cannot be dismissed with the trite assurance that the Bible was intended to be a teacher of moral and religious truth only; for he knows not how far the physical facts in question may be connected with moral truth. * Powell's Connection of Natural and Divine Truth, pp. 237-247. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 159 On the other hand, the unbehever is but too ready to fasten on these apparent discrepancies, — to magnify them into radi- cal and irreconcilable contradictions, and to proclaim them as convincing evidence that the Bible is a book of fables, and that its long-usurped authority must soon fall before the ad- vancing light of Inductive Philosophy. Nor have such appeals been made to the Physical Sciences only, — History, Archaeology, Poetry, Philosophy, Hermeneu- tics, all have been appealed to for ground and occasion of as- sault against the sacred Records ; and too often the onset is made with a malignant impetuosity witnessed nowhere else in literary warfare. When, for instance, the statements of Scrip- ture have come into conflict with those of profane authors, a course has frequently been pursued utterly inconsistent with candor and justice. It has been taken for granted that of the two conflicting witnesses, the Biblical witness must be wrong and the secular witness must be right ; that both are entitled to be judged by the same rules; that the a priori presumption is at least as strong, for example, in favor of the Father of sacred as in favor of the Father of profane history ; that, until con- victed of forgery, Moses may claim as much at least of credit as Herodotus. All this has been forgotten. Moses speaks, in the Pentateuch, of grapes and vineyards in Egypt, and his statement is corroborated by Diodorus, by Strabo, by Pliny, and by Athenaeus ; yet, inasmuch as Herodotus and Plutarch state that Egypt was without vineyards, their negative testi- mony was seized upon not only as sufficient to outweigh the authority of the sacred historian, but as sufficient to outweigh his authority with that of four profane historians superadded.* It is hardly necessary to add, that among the ancient subter- ranean inscriptions which have been lately discovered in Egypt, occur representations of the whole process of the vin- tage,— from the dressing of the vine to the drawing off of wine. * Wiseman's Science and Revealed Religion, p. 300. Andover, 1837. l6o THE THREE WITNESSES. Before the freethinker exults in this anticipated triumph over the downfall of Revelation, would it not be well for him to take counsel of the past ? That great teacher has instruct- ive admonitions stored up for minds like his ; she points to instances not a few in which some similar discovery has been trumpeted as fatal to Revelation ; and the world has stood aghast at the prospect of its overthrow. Now, it was Bry- done, reasoning from successive layers of lava, and inferring that twice the six thousand years which represent the age ot the world, according to the popular understanding of Moses, must have elapsed since the first of those layers was depos- ited. Then it was the ill-fated French astronomer Bailey, pro- claiming that in the ancient astronomy of India he had found conclusive evidence that it pointed to a period still more remote, and that tens of thousands of years would be needed to express the age of the world. To-day a sculptured zodiac is borne in triumph from the sandy plains of Egypt to the capital of France, and its inscriptions are made to utter another sentence of condemnation on the chronology of Moses. To- morrow the far-off realms of Cathay are appealed to in order to accomplish the same purpose. And what is the result? Christianity has not yet fallen, — its way has not even been re- tarded. The far-famed discovery has, in each case, fretted its brief hour on the stage and then gone, to take its place with the unnumbered phantoms that served to amuse the world before ; for it has been found that its supposed discrepancy with Revelation was apparent only. Is it not well to learn wisdom from this chapter in history? So, again, when we see philosophers who do not affect Infi- delity, but who profess and call themselves Christians, — when such philosophers are found manifesting an anxious desire to displace the supernatural from the world which they observe, — striving, for example, to obliterate all marks of catastrophe from the physical history of the Globe, to substitute material for spiritual causes in explaining all the functions of body CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. l6l and mind, and repudiating all appeal to creative power except at the beginning of the system, — of such philosophers we cannot help saying that they ought not to wonder should they find themselves objects of suspicion. They deliberately shock feelings and convictions, in regard to the ever-present agency of the Most High, which are deeply rooted in the human heart, and which men associate with their most cherished hopes. They often do this, too, without cause, — when the affront offered to old and venerable beliefs seems all but gratuitous. Philosophers might easily record ob- served facts, and reason upon them with the most rigorous logic, without thus obtruding conclusions or suggestions in re- gard to the Divine agency, which are at best but conjectural. More especially do they merit censure when, on the ground of partial observation and crude generalization, they hazard reflections upon the integrity or authority of Scripture, — when without pausing to ask whether the meaning attached to a particular passage by them, or by current interpretation, be not erroneous, they launch forth their theory of interpo- lated or uninspired admixtures with the sacred text, or make these discrepancies an occasion for calling in question alto- gether the Inspiration of the Bible. Yet, on the other hand, the excessive sensitiveness with which Theologians and Christians frequently look upon these apparent discrepancies between the Bible and Nature might well be abated. It would be, if they could be induced deliberately to weigh the following considerations : 1st. That the construction we put upon such parts of the Scriptures as are supposed to be at variance with science is not always above dispute. Nothing is more difficult than to lay down a Canon of interpretation which shall clearly define the distinguishing marks of that in the Bible which is literal as contrastec| with that which is figurative or phenomenal. II 1 62 THE THREE WITNESSES. As passages once received for literal are now allowed to be phenomenal {e.g. those which represent the earth as the centre of the solar system), so, on the other hand, passages which, in modern days, we regard as literal were in the earlier ages of the Church interpreted, by some of the most orthodox of the fathers, as figurative. (For example, the account of the six days of creation, which Origen, and to some extent even St. Augustine, regard as symbolic of the new spiritual crea- tion.) We should remember, then, that both the book of Nature and the book of Grace are written in characters which are not yet fully deciphered ; that neither Biblical nor physi- cal interpretation is yet reduced to rules of perfect precision or of unquestionable authority, — the logic of induction being in its infancy according to one high authority, — the theory of Hermeneutics being in the same state according to another. So that while there is explicit teaching sufficient to guide every humble and sincere inquirer in the way of duty, there is still enough of obscurity to task the noblest powers of the theologian and the philosopher. In this imperfect state of natural and supernatural knowledge, a thousand apparent in- congruities may embarrass us, which are destined to disap- pear before the advancing light of discovery as thousands have disappeared already. We should especially remember that the language em- ployed in the Scriptures is popular rather than precise or scientific, — that the sacred writers, in order to be intelligible, were obliged to employ terms and apply allusions according to the current usage, so that in referring to terrestrial or celes- tial appearances they would naturally represent events rather as they appeared to the ordinary observer than as they were in reality, their object being the phenomenal rather than the real. 2d. Should we not also consider that the main object of the Scriptures is to teach the supernatural as distinguished from the natural, the moral and religious as contrasted with the CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 163 physical and secular, and hence that obscurity must often rest upon the latter, which has been dispelled by the inspired word from the former ? 3d. Should we not consider that in our present state we see as through a glass, darkly, that we discover enough of analogies and harmonies between the Creator's works and word to believe that all is bound together by one common bond of correspondence and consistency ; while, on the other hand, apparent incongruities are permitted to rise before us, one after another, to task our investigating powers, to exer- cise our patience, to rebuke our intellectual pride, and to enable us to purchase that blessing above price accorded to those who not having seen yet believe ? There is no science in which there are not apparent inconsistencies, — we might almost say irreconcilable contradictions. Is it not so in Mathematics, where we have it rigorously demonstrated that two lines can approach each other forever and yet not meet ? Is it not so in Metaphysics, where we have a will determined by motive and yet free ? Is it not so in Theology, where we have Divine Foreknowledge and yet a special Providence, Sovereignty in God and yet responsibility in men, Infinite benevolence in the Creator and yet evil and suffering among his creatures? But, though Science and Revelation are essentially distinct as it respects both their methods and their objects, yet they can mutually aid each other. Moral Philosophy, Philology, Ethnology, Archaeology, Physiology, Physics, each, by its own independent processes, reaches conclusions which tend to corroborate Revelation. The more thoroughly, for example, we consider Moral Science, the more evident it becomes that the great principles of Christian Ethics, whether applied to individuals or to society, are founded deep in man's nature and relations. So the more thoroughly we explore the languages of the world, and trace their affinities and dependencies, the more 164 THE THREE WITNESSES. correctly we can interpret the inspired records, the more nu- merous are the coincidences discovered between profane and sacred literature, and the more striking the confirmation we receive of early Sacred History. So it is with researches into the Natural History of Man, and of the different races which have inhabited the Globe. Though they often suggest diffi- culties, they generally dissipate them in the course of a few years, while they supply the most striking and unexpected illustrations of obscure references in the Bible. And even Physical Science, whether it explore the vast or the minute, whether it trace mechanical and other actions on the surface of the earth, or away in the remotest regions of space, every- where alike, as we shall see hereafter, it finds facts and analo- gies which lend new authority to our Sacred Books. What- ever protests may be entered against thus appealing to Science in support of Revelation, it is quite certain that it will con- tinue to be appealed to in derogation of it. No stripling desires to have a tilt with Christianity that he does not invoke the aid of what he calls science ; and the confidence with which he does so is usually in the direct ratio of his ignorance. Should the uninstructed be left to gather their impressions respecting the relation between Theology and Philosophy from him? Would those who remonstrate so earnestly against attempting to harmonize Science and Revelation require that the infidel should be allowed to poison his weapons at these fountains, while the believer may not supply an antidote ? The skeptic may allege that profane history convicts the sacred writers of anachronisms ; that physiology casts discredit on the narrative of our Saviour's resurrection ; that geology and astronomy both carry us back to facts that prove either that Genesis is untrustworthy or that nature is untrue to herself. And may not the believer follow him to question his asser- tions? May he not examine the ground on which they rest, nor rejoice when they prove worse than baseless? Is it not well alike for science and for religion that the world has CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 165 thought differently ? Impatient under such alleged discrep- ancies between the records of nature and of grace, they have demanded renewed inquiry as the basis of renewed and more thorough comparisons. To such inquiry the most profound scholars and philosophers have applied themselves, and the result is seen in immense accessions to the treasures of science and to the evidences of revealed religion. Had the opposite course been taken, the poisoned weapons would have been discharged, — many an uninformed or unsettled mind would have imbibed the " leprous distillment." In the absence of any antidote, the contagion would have diffused itself silently, while Infidelity would have exulted over an impotence that could not answer, an apathy that would not, or a cowardice that dared not. Thanks to the wisdom and the manly courage that have espoused a different policy. And let not the objector say that he would have Ancient History and Literature invoked in confirmation of the Bible ; he only protests against the attempt to enlist Natural Science in this work. It would puzzle, I apprehend, the most in- genious of these objectors to draw a line of demarcation be- tween questions which belong to Literature and Archaeology on the one hand, and those which belong exclusively to Phy- sical Science on the other. Take, for example, the con- troversies of the last century in regard to the astronomical systems of ancient India and ancient Egypt, — systems which were arrayed against the Bible. Could their merits have been thoroughly investigated by any except astronomers ? The main points in debate were problems in regard to the past history of the Heavens, involving mathematical and archae- ological difficulties, which could be solved only by means of scientific calculations, combined with antiquarian research. Hence it was that many of the most eminent astronomers as well as archaeologists of the time — Delambre, Montucla, Mas- kelyne, Bentley, Klaproth, Heeren, Cuvier — engaged in the dis- cussion, and to their joint labors the world was indebted for 1 66 THE THREE WITNESSES. power to lay the portentous spectre that science falsely so called had evoked. And as Science can aid Revelation, so on the other hand can Revelation aid Science. Considered merely as an an- cient record, and without reference to its divine authority, the Bible has the highest value, — embodying as it does the earliest recorded traditions respecting the physical state and the moral history of our world. It also inculcates that spirit of humility and self-distrust, that patience and perseverance in the pur- suit of the right and the true, which are hardly less necessary to success in scientific investigation than they are to eminence in virtue and piety. The devout study of Revelation must, moreover, fasten on the mind a conviction of the Divine unity, and a clear perception of the variety as well as uniformity of the Divine operations, — feelings which serve as instructive guides in philosophical inductions, — while the sense of an overruling Providence, which they keep alive, will continually temper the boldness of speculation. Then, again, obscure passages in Revelation have, in some instances, suggested in- quiries which have proved rich in discovery, and even in practical benefit to mankind. It is not often, we must admit, that the Bible can be appealed to as affording formal and dis- tinct instruction in Physics, — never as superseding the need of inductive investigation, — nor, when that investigation has been completed, will it be usually safe to appeal to the lan- guage of Scripture, in so many instances figurative and popu- lar, as sufficient corroboration. Still, the sacred text may suggest salutary doubts; it may inspire caution. Often it may furnish important collateral information. It may ani- mate to further inquiry, and thus, through the joint agency of physical inductions on the one hand, and of Biblical inter- pretation on the other, lessons which we read in the pages of Nature and of Revelation will be found, we doubt not, to harmonize more and more; and the day may come when even man, a stranger and pilgrim on the earth, with the most CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 167 contracted sphere of observation, shall hear but one anthem of praise ascending to God from all his works, — when the strains that go up from the Temple of Science shall blend sweetly with those that go up from the Temple of Grace, and all be lost in the swelling chorus, " Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty,— just and true are thy ways, thou King of Saints !" In the mean time, let not the friends of Revelation insist too strenuously on their own interpretation of disputed texts. " In obscure matters," says St. Augustine, quoted by Whewell, " and things far removed from our senses, if we read anything, even in the Divine Scripture, which may produce diverse opinions, without damaging the faith which we cherish, let us not rush headlong by positive assertion to either the one opinion or the other, lest when a more thorough discussion has shown the opinion which we had adopted to be false, our faith may fall with it, and we be found contending not for the doctrine of the sacred Scriptures but for our own ; endeavor- ing to make our doctrine to be that of the Scriptures, instead of taking the doctrine of the Scriptures to be ours." Nor let the friends of Science, on the other hand, demand too early that the current exposition of these disputed pas- sages shall be changed. " When a demonstration," said Car- dinal Bellarmine, giving his opinion on the great Copernican controversy, " when a demonstration shall be found to estab- lish the earth's motion, it will be proper to interpret the Sacred Scriptures otherwise than they have hitherto been interpreted in those passages where mention is made of the stability of the Earth and the movement of the Heavens." This opinion is accepted by Mr. Whewell, in his Pldlosopliy of the Inductive Sciences^ as a judicious and reasonable maxim for such cases in general. "So long as the supposed scientific discovery," he says, " is doubtful, the exposition of the mean- * Vol. ii. p. 148. 1 68 THE THREE WITNESSES. ing of Scripture given by commentators of established credit is not wantonly to be disturbed; but when a scientific theory, irreconcilable with this ancient interpretation, is clearly proved, we must give up the interpretation, and seek some new mode of understanding the passage in question by means of which it may be consistent with what we know; for if it be not, our conception of the things so described is no longer consistent with itself" And if there be any disinclined to entertain these com- parisons between Science and Scripture, and bent on retaining the literal import of the Sacred text, to such we would say, in the language of Kepler,* " I beseech my reader that, not un- mindful of the divine goodness bestowed on man, he do with me praise and celebrate the wisdom of the Creator, which I open to him from a more inward explication of the form of the world from a searching of causes, from a detection of the errors of vision, and that thus not only in the firmness and stability of the earth may we perceive with gratitude the pre- servation of all living things in nature as the gift of God, but also in its motion so recondite, so admirable, we may acknowledge the wisdom of the Creator. But whoever is too dull to receive this Science, or too weak to believe the Coper- nican system, without harm to his piety, him, I say, I advise that, leaving the school of astronomy, and condemning, if so he please, any doctrines of the philosophers, he follow his own path, and desist from this wandering through the uni- verse; and that lifting up his natural eyes, with which alone he can see, he pour himself out from his own heart in worship of God the Creator, being certain that he gives no less worship to God than the astonomer to whom God has given to see more clearly with his inward eyes, and who, from what he has himself discovered, both can and will glorify God." * Whewell's Bridgewatcr Treatise, p. 314. CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 169 We have thus set forth what seems to be a fair view of an embarrassing and much-debated subject. Reserving many- details till we come to confront various branches of Science with Revelation, we have intimated generally our opinion that, framed as the human mind is, it cannot refrain from comparing and attempting to reconcile different systems of truth. The inductions of mere Physical Science are rarely so well established that we do not feel pleasure when we find them sustained by ancient traditionary beliefs or authentic records. In Geology, the value of such traditionary and his- torical evidence has recently been demonstrated by a learned German, Von Hoff;* and Mr. Lyell also deserves praise for the sagacity and candor with which he has applied such evi- dence to several difficult questions. But if ancient records are to be appealed to in aid of Science, the records indited by Moses are older than the oldest ; and if uninspired docu- ments may have great value in this respect, the fact that they are believed to be inspired ought not to impair their weight. And if we may appeal to Scripture to ascertain the value in part of a scientific theory, why not appeal, on the other hand, to well-established Science to ascertain in part the value of a Biblical theory to test the correctness of particular interpre- tations or the general claims of the whole narrative ? Our confidence in certain readings or interpretations of dis- puted texts may be firm, and yet we are gratified when some unexpected fact, brought to light by a traveller, historian, or antiquarian, shows that we are right; that witnesses who cannot be impeached thus start up in the dim past, or in dis- tant lands, to corroborate our views. So our faith in the Bible, generally, and in all that it contains, may be deep and unshaken ; and yet may we not rejoice when we find that on the venerable monuments of Egypt and the hoary cliffs of Sinai or Horeb, there are testimonials that have come down * Wlaewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences — Paiseontolgy. I/O THE THREE WITNESSES. to US unharmed througli thousands of years and unnumbered human vicissitudes, — testimonials of which the sacred writers never could have dreamed, but which proclaim in clear and impressiv^e accents that their record is true ? We rejoice not because we doubted before, — not even because we believe more cordially now, — but because we find that that which is irrefragable truth to us has been made to appear like truth to others. We rejoice that such an opportunity for vindicating itself has been afforded to the Bible, and that that oppor- tunity has been signally improved. We rejoice that verifica- tions, each independent of the rest, are thus multiplied, since each will address itself with peculiar force to a certain class of minds. We rejoice in the pledge thus given that Science as it advances will have less and less ground of cavil against Revelation, and that in proportion as men of profound knowl- edge and sagacity explore the relations between the Word and the Works of God, they will see new reason to acknowl- edge that both alike are bright with traces of a wisdom and a power above this world. That such will indeed be the case, that Christianity has nothing to fear but much to hope from the progress of Sci- ence, and that the alliance between them is like to become closer and closer, we cannot doubt. That philosophy will sometimes lose itself in irreverent conjectures, and sometimes become too highly elated with the consciousness of its own independent powers, may be expected. No studies, even the most sacred, are exempt from these temporary aberrations. But that the Inductive Sciences generally, or those which re- late more especially to Physics, will ultimately prove un- friendly to the Christian's faith, is an apprehension, warranted, as it seems to us, neither by the nature of the case nor by the experience of the past. There arc those, we know, who look on these studies as tending to foster a sensual tone of thought, as unduly exalting the material element of our existence ; as laying the foundation of coldness and distrust in regard to all CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 171 that is spiritual, and especially in regard to all that is super- natural. To a fault of this kind, which may be charged upon some of the speculations in our time, I have already had oc- casion to refer; and I would admit here distinctly the tendency of exclusive devotion to material studies in a narrow spirit, to engender distaste for higher contemplations. But this is the fault of the individual or of the age rather than of Science, and it is likely to be amended by the growth of true knowl- edge and of a wider culture. As all truth is from God, the proper study and contemplation of it must be calculated to carry the mind towards God. That great Being is best known through his Word, illustrated and enforced by his works and ways ; and those works are best understood in proportion as we apply to them the inductive method of philoso- phizing. " Though I am willing to grant," says Boyle, " that some impressions of God's wisdom are so conspicuous that even a superficial philosopher may thence infer that the Author of such a work must be a wise agent ; yet how wise an agent He has in these works expressed himself to be, none but an ex- perimental philosopher can well discern. And 'tis not by a slight survey, but by a diligent and skilful scrutiny of the works of God, that a man must be, by a rational and effective conviction, engaged to acknowledge that the Author of nature is wonderful in counsel and excellent in working." The fruit of thousands of years of speculation applied to these subjects, before the time of Bacon, would seem to show that the methods of inquiry then prevailing were defective; and the results which have followed the substitution of his method seem equally conclusive of the fact, that unless knowledge is a bane and ignorance the mother of true devotion. Science must have enlarged our means of adoring and loving God, because it has enlarged our means of knowing Him. It un- folds the order and manifold adaptations to man's welfare of the material world with such impressive clearness, that a 172 THE THREE WITNESSES. mind open at all to religious sentiment can hardly fail to be affected. If in all ages the Heavens have declared the Glory of God, much more emphatically is this the case now that modern astronomy has mapped out the courses of the stars, has un- folded the beautiful simplicity which pervades all their move- ments, and reduced those movements to one law, which seems to prevail wherever in the universe there is matter. So strik- ing, indeed, are these lessons, that not even those least dis- posed can quite withstand their influence. When La Place describes the arrangements by which the stability of the solar system is upheld, he cannot help (though he formally repu- diates the doctrine of final causes) yielding to that notion of an end or purpose which they seem to force upon the mind. " It seems," says he, " that Nature [suppose the word God substituted for Nature] has ordered everything in the Heavens to insure the duration of the planetary system by views simi- lar to those which she (He) appears to us so admirably to fol- low upon the earth, for the preservation of animals and the perpetuity of the species. This consideration alone would explain the disposition of the system if it were not the busi- ness of the geometer to go further." In like manner Cabanis, a French physiological writer of eminence, who was thor- oughly skeptical in respect to final causes, writes in this wise when he speaks of the laws of reproduction of the human race : " I regard," says he, " with the great Bacon, the phi- losophy of final causes as barren ; but I have elsewhere ac- knowledged that it was very difficult for the most cautious man not to have recourse to them in his explanations." When the truths unfolded by science wring such acknowledgments from unbelief, what must be their legitimate influence on the unbiased ? But there is another respect in which these studies seem to me to be auspicious to the Christian faith. They are favor- able to self-control, — for they give to the mind the power of CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 1 73 concentration, while they save it from that vacuity of thought which is the origin of many of the vices of our nature; and they do more. To borrow the language of one of the first philosophers* of Europe and of our time, " The study of the higher Sciences is well suited to keep down a spirit of arrogance and intel- lectual pride; for, in disentangling the phenomena of the ma- terial world, we encounter things which hourly tell us of the feebleness of our powers, and material combinations so in- finitely beyond the reach of any intellectual analysis as to convince us at once of the narrow limitation of our faculties. To an Almighty Being, with the attribute of ubiquity, in whose mind all things past and to come coexist in eternal presence, to Him all truth is by intuition ; by us truth is only apprehended through the slow and toilsome process of com- parison. So that the powers and capacities forming the very implements of our strength are also the indications of our weakness. "Simplicity of character, humility and love of truth ought therefore to be (and I believe generally have been) among the attributes of minds well trained in philosophy. After all that has been done since the thoughts of man were first turned to the phenomena of the material world, after all the boasted discoveries of Science, from the first records of civili- zation down to our own days, those glorious passages of the Old Testament, contrasting the power and wisdom of God in the wonders of his creation with man's impotence and igno- rance, have still, and ever will continue to have, not merely a figurative or poetical but a literal application. ' Gird up now thy loins like a man ; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me. Where wast thou when I laid the founda- tions of the Earth ? Declare, if thou hast understanding. Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who * Prof. Sedgwick's Discourse on Studies of the University of Cambridge. 174 THE THREE WITNESSES. laid the corner-stone thereof, when the mornings stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy? or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth as if it had issued out of a womb ? When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddling-band for it, and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed? Where is the way where light dwelleth? and as for darkness, where is the place thereof? Knowest thou it, because thou wast then born ? or because the number of thy days is great?' "Before such an interrogation we can only bow in humble admiration. The study of the laws of nature may strengthen and exalt the intellectual powers ; but strange must be our condition of self-government, and tortuous our habits of thought, if such studies be allowed to coexist with self-love and arrogance and intellectual pride." Is it said that if these are the appropriate results of scientific studies, they are results not usually attained ; that arrogance, uncharitableness, and contempt of things sacred have often characterized the votaries of these sciences? I answer that these vices are not peculiar to minds addicted to the physical sciences. Neither metaphysicians nor moral philosophers nor historians nor even theologians are always meek, charitable, or reverent. The temper with which a man applies himself to a study will depend more on the prevailing habits of his mind than on the study itself. If he carry to it a proud, un- hallowed, or licentious spirit, proud, unhallowed, or licentious will be the tone in which he will discuss problems and an- nounce results. The true question before us respects the influence which the physical sciences are calculated to exercise upon an incor- rupted mind,— on one not bent on evil and willing to be made truly wise and good ; and on this point let all history answer. For every Natural philosopher eminent as a skeptic, not less than five, I think, might be produced equally eminent in that CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS. 175 capacity who were not Natural philosophers, but metaphy- sicians, poets, scholars, or men of the world. France is often appealed to as illustrating the baneful effects of a too earnest application to physical studies ; but whence came the Infidelity of France ? Was it from the labors of Descartes or Pascal, — almost the only eminent natural philosophers she had before the time of the Regency, — men who were as eminent for their piety as their science ? Her deep moral degeneracy, induced chiefly by social and political causes, and by a false system of metaphysical philosophy, was the true parent of her irreligion and unbelief Bayle, Condillac, Diderot, Voltaire, Rousseau were not trained in the severe school of physical science more than Hume, or Bolingbroke, or Shaftesbury, or Lord Herbert. When infidelity was once established and had become well- nigh universal, it is not strange that her great mathematicians and mechanical philosophers* should have shared in the pre- vailing infection. They did not imbibe the poison from their studies more than the sick man owes his disease to the food he takes ; but that disease had power to transform even healthy aliment into an aggravation of its own virulence. Against the brief list of naturalists and mechanical philoso- phers who have adopted a cheerless unbelief, it would be in- structive to draw out, if we had time, the long list of those who have coupled devotion to science with an humble and earnest faith in religion. It would be found, as Boyle says, " in almost all ages and countries the generality of philoso- phers and contemplative men were persuaded of the existence of a Deity from the consideration of the phenomena of the universe, whose fabric and conduct they rationally concluded could not justly be ascribed either to chance or to any other * It ought to be considered, too, that D'Alembert, La Place, La Grange, etc. were employed not in the inductive work of discovery, but in simply deducing from the Law of Gravitation some of its results. Mr. Whewell has shown in his Bridgewater Treatise (Book iii. chap. 5, 6) how much less favorable this lat- ter process is to high moral and religious contemplations. 1/6 THE THREE WITNESSES. cause than a Divine Being." We should see reason to con- clude that the judgment recorded by Newton in regard to the legitimate tendency of all Inductive Physical Science, is the judgment of truth and soberness. " The business of Natural Philosophy," he says, in one of the Queries attached to his Optics, "is to argue from phenomena, without feigning hy- potheses, and to deduce causes from effects till we come to the very First Cause, which is certainly not mechanical." " Though every true step made in this philosophy bring us not immediately to the knowledge of the First Cause, yet it brings us nearer to it, and is on that account to be highly valued." And in the Note or Scholium, with which he con- cludes his great work, the " Principia," is this impressive tes- timony : " This beautiful system of Sun, Planets, and Comets could have its origin in no other way than by the purpose and command of an intelligent and powerful Being. He governs all things not as the soul of the world, but as the Lord of the Universe. He is not only God, but Lord or Governor. We know Him only by his properties and attributes, — by the wise and admirable structure of things around us, and by their final cause. We admire Him on account of his perfections. We venerate and worship Him on account of his Govern- ment." PART II. Nature a Witness. I. INORGANIC NATURE. II. ORGANIC NATURE. BOOK I. INORGANIC NATURE. PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY. CHAPTER I. MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. OUR object in this chapter is to point out how Mechanical Philosophy may be made subservient to ReHgious in- struction and improvement ; and we shall endeavor to do it by showing that the mechanical constitution of Nature is everywhere crowded with marks of creative foresight, and with contrivances calculated to promote man's highest welfare, not only as a physical but also as an intellectual and moral being. When surveyed through the medium of this Science, which may be considered as one of the great optic tubes, by the help of which we inspect the operations of Nature, the world pre- sents to an observer two leading facts, — Motion and Rest. Both are needed, in order to the well-being of man and other terrestrial inhabitants, and it is most interesting to remark, that where each is needed each seems to have been provided for. Of objects on the earth's surface, some — like plants, edifices, rocks — need to be stationary. Others, like the materials on which we operate in the useful and liberal arts, need to be movable ; but with a balance of inclination towards rest. Others again, such as clouds, air, the water of streams and rivers, and of the ocean, contribute most to the welfare of living creatures when in motion, and, accordingly, motion, (179) i8o THE THREE WITNESSES. restless and unceasing, is one of their striking characteristics. This general correspondence between the mechanical state of bodies and the innumerably various ends which they subserve, can hardly fail to impress with admiration the most casual observer. This admiration, however, will be heightened when we con- sider the means by which a result so wonderful has been at- tained. Whatever the state of bodies, whether it be rest or motion, that state is always the effect oi forces which act upon those bodies. No body exists in nature which is not urged by one or more of these forces. For example : gravitation is a force which presses upon every mass and every particle of matter, whether that matter be at rest or in motion ; whether it lie within the earth's sphere of attraction or at an immeas- urable distance beyond it. But, if pressed upon by one force, a body can remain at rest only when the action of that force is neutralized or counteracted by one or more opposing forces. Thus, the weight or force of gravitation in our own body would carry it rapidly towards the centre of the earth were it not for the floor beneath us, which presents a countervailing force or resistance more than equal to the former. So a cloud, which hangs poised and motionless above us, is in equilibrio, — between the force of gravity in the cloud and superincumbent air on the one hand, and the elastic force of the air beneath it on the other. In like manner, a boy's kite is at rest in the air when the force of traction, exerted by him through the string, is equivalent to the other two forces which act upon it, viz., the force of the wind, urging it forward and upward, and the force of gravitation, which would bring it downward. Here, then, we have, in one case, three forces ; in the other, two, acting simultaneously upon the same mass of matter and destroying all motion; or, in other words, we have these forces neutralizing each other, so that it is usual to consider Me- chanics, or the Science of Forces, under two heads:— ist. Statics, i.e. the Science of Forces destroying motion. 2d. Dy- MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER, igl namics, i.e. the Science of Forces producing motion. It ought to be ob.served here, that when we speak of bodies as being in a state of rest, we mean not absolute, but merely relative, rest. It may be doubted whether there is such a thing as absolute rest in the universe. The Sun, round which all the planets and comets of our system are making their constant circuit, is supposed, and not without good reason, to be itself advancing about some far-distant centre ; and everything leads to the conclusion that what are called fixed stars are, in like manner, restless voyagers on the great ocean of space. We usually consider terrestrial bodies as at rest, however, when they continue in the same position zvith respect to fixed lines on the earth's surface ; and it is in this sense that we invariably employ the term in this chapter. We need hardly add, that most objects on or near the sur- face of our planet, are neither permanently at rest nor perma- nently in motion. A boy's sport would soon end if that exact equilibrium between the three forces that act upon his kite, which we have noticed, were always maintained so soon as that kite reaches a certain elevation. Clouds are a pleasant object of contemplation when they hang motionless on the mountain or green hillside ; but they best perform their offices when they are floating to and fro ; and in their case, as in that of the kite, but a slight addition to one of the forces is needed in order to disturb the temporary and unstable equilibrium, and substitute motion more or less violent for rest. It is thus throughout nature. The very same powers which at one time anchor a body, as if in immovable repose, at another impel it forward. And even if we take bodies which never move, or those which never rest, we shall find that both are under the dominion of the same forces, and that it is through the adjustment, as to intensity and direction, of a few simple ones that the mechanical state of all masses of matter is regu- lated by the Creator, whether it be one of permanent rest, per- manent motion, or frequent interchange and alteration. l82 THE THREE WITNESSES. Which, then, are these forces ? and in what way does each contribute, both separately and in conjunction with others, to set forth the Divine wisdom and goodness by contributing to the welfare of his sensitive creatures? We shall notice: — I. Inertia. 2. Friction. -^.Gravity. 4. Heat. ^. Animal Pozvcr. I. Inertia. — This is a principle or property of matter which never directly originates motion, but which still exerts so much influence — at one time in preventing, at another in maintaining and modifying it — that it may well be considered as a force. Its name indicates its character but in part. It is the conservative principle in the material zvoiid. It always contends for the status in quo, whether that state be one of rest or of motion. If a mass be at rest, it withstands all efforts to move it, — not more decidedly, however, than it would withstand, if the same body were in motion, any effort to stop it. ,It is strictly conserva- tive, its opposition being simply to change of any kind, — not to progress, if progress be the pre-established order of things. If a body be in motion, it always tends, in virtue of inertia, to continue in that state; and just in proportion as obstacles — i.e. retarding forces — are withdrawn, the motion is prolonged, as we can all see in the case of balls rolling over smooth sur- faces, or of tops spinning on hard and polished floors. Hence, if rt// external resistance were withdrawn, moving bodies would continue in motion forever, as at first view seems to be the actual condition of the planets in their revolutions round the Sun. It is not, however, absolutely certain that the planetary spaces are free from all resistance to bodies passing through them. Observations on Encke's comet have indicated a very slight retardation in its motion, such as would ensue on the passage of a light body like that comet through an exceed- ingly thin resisting medium. If such a medium does exist, it must occasion, unless fresh projectile impulses be given to them, a corresponding retardation in the annual motions of the planets ; and thus this recently-discovered fact points us forward to a day when each of these planets, their orbits being MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 183 gradually contracted, may, in its turn, by the action of natural forces, be precipitated into the Sun, and end its circuit in one final conflagration. This medium may serve, at the same time, to lead our minds back to a great fact in the physical history of the past. It would show that these planets cannot have been moving through their orbits, as some contend, through all a past eternity ; for on that supposition this resistance would have arrested their course ages on ages before the present time. In this way Mechanical Philosophy may sup- ply evidence additional to that supplied by Geology in con- firmation of the fact that the duration of the present system of the universe is limited, while it corroborates those passages in Revelation which refer us to periods in the distant past " before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world was formed," as well as those which foreshadow a great catastrophe, in which " the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and the earth and all that is therein shall be burnt up." What are the uses of this great conservative power in nature called Inertia ? or, in other words, how does it serve to set forth the natural and moral perfections of the great Lawgiver by whom it was first established and is still main- tained? Some of these uses are alike obvious and important. Inertia renders matter passive in all its states, and thereby enables us, when we know the forces that act upon it, to cal- culate beforehand its position or motions, and to represent with mathematical accuracy the effect of any change in those forces. It thus subjects matter, in many respects, to man's control, and presents a constant challenge both to study and to action. It enables us also to anticipate and accommodate ourselves to changes which may be occasioned by natural causes beyond our control. And it also provides that great changes, whether from rest to motion, from motion to rest, or from one rate of motion to another, shall not take place instantaneously, but shall be effected more gradually, and 1 84 THE THREE WITNESSES. therefore more safely and conveniently. It also exhibits to us, by means of contrast, the peculiar activity of our own spiritual natures, which, unlike matter, are capable of origi- nating motion and other changes, and also of resisting out- ward influences. So dumb nature is by means of this Law made to warn us against a mere vassalage to influences from w^ithout, and to animate us to a worthy exercise of all our faculties. Another result of this law deserves remark as indicative of creative and benevolent foresight. It is to be observed in the opposite effects of this same inertia as it operates on the earth and in the heavens. In the heavens it secures what for all practical purposes may be styled perpetual motion. On the earth it produces in most bodies a tendency to perpetual rest. Solid bodies moving through the air experience constant resistance from its inertia, and where no new impulse is given they soon come to rest. Owing to this resistance, and to another cause which we shall notice presently, perpetual mo- tion, self-maintained, is not possible on the surface of our globe. Man is thus called upon to interpose, from time to time, to recruit the wasting energies of any force he may em- ploy, and to maintain constant vigilance over his own works and also over those of nature. Both furnish occasion for exercising his industry, foresight, and self-control, — qualities which if not positively moral are yet indispensable in order to all moral culture and all high spiritual excellence. He at the same time secures through inertia the advantage of having the various movable objects which he uses (such as tools and materials) stationary, — where he leaves them he finds them. The slight impulses which they receive from him, or from other sources, soon spend themselves, and they are at rest. Otherwise a touch given accidentally might im- part perpetual motion to objects which we want always near us, but which we cannot always be thinking of. With a glance at one other result of this law of inertia we MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. i3^ leave it. Bodies in motion always tend, in virtue of this law, to maintain their courses in right lines. If they follow any other line, it must be in consequence of some constant force or pressure which, at every instant, deflects them more or less from a rectilinear course, causing them to describe a cur- vilinear path. If this deflecting force acted alone, it would draw the body towards the point or centre at which that force acts. We see, then, how a single impulse from a projectile force, acting in conjunction with a constant attraction towards any centre of motion, will cause the moving body to revolve in an orbit about that centre, and also how, if there be no re- sistance, such revolution would maintain itself forever. The resistance presented to the motion of the planets is so slight that it has made as yet no perceptible alteration in the length of our years, and in practice as well as in ordinary reasoning may be overlooked. We see, then, how the globe that we inhabit, and all the other primaries of the solar system, need to have been merely projected into space, with a certain force passing through any point within their surface, save the centre, and the result of this projection, combined with the attractive force of the Sun, would be a twofold motion, — one of rotation on its own axis, another of revolution round the Sun, — neither of which would ever terminate of itself, so that the system would carry within it, subject to certain conditions, an essential principle of stability, — a guarantee for the permanence and regularity of its motions, 2. Friction. — We have thus far spoken of a force which tends to maintain stability, to uphold the existing order of things everywhere in nature, but which near the earth, i.e. within the limits of its atmosphere, favors rest rather than motion. There is another force, still more useful in this latter respect, and that is friction, or the resistance which two surfaces in contact always present to any motion of one of these surfaces over or against the other. This resistance increases in the precise ratio of the pressure with which they act upon each I-gg THE THREE WITNESSES. Other. Suppose a man standing on the smoothest ice, the soles of his boots or shoes being equally smooth, we know with what difficulty he maintains his position. The slightest wind would cause him to slide, the slightest inclination of his body, from one side to the other, would be followed by a fall. Yet in this case there is still some friction between the two surfaces. Were it absolutely destroyed, there is no reason to believe that, even with the utmost strength and address, he could hold his place for an instant. Suppose, then, the same entire absence of friction in the case of the blocks of stone or bricks which compose the masonry of a building. Suppose there were no friction between the superstructure of a build- ing and the foundation on which it rests, — between bolts, spikes, pins, and nails, on the one hand, and the parts which they are intended to bind together, — between the articles of furniture in a room and the floor on which they stand, — be- tween the pen we hold in our hand and the hand itself, — between the masses of earth on a hill or mountain-side and the inclined surface on which they rest, — between our feet and any floor or street, not perfectly horizontal, on which we happen to walk or stand. The results which must ensue are evident. The soil on every hillside would rush to the valley below. Our pens, in spite of the closest grasp, would turn continually in our hands, the parts of a building or of furni- ture could not be held together, utensils and tools would maintain an almost incessant dance, and our position, when on chairs or in bed, would be like that of a suspended kite or cloud. A current of air, created by the opening and shutting of doors, would be sufficient to send us whirling across the floor. 3. Gravity. — Yet another force is necessary, however, in order to secure enough of rest and stability to objects on the earth's surface. The earth revolves on its axis, as we all know, and its velocity is such that the building in which we write passes through more than seven hundred miles in an MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 187 hour, or a little over thirteen miles in each successive minute. The line described by every object is the arc of a circle, and from this arc the body is constantly endeavoring to recede in virtue of what is called tJie centrifugal force, which is only another name for the inertia which would always carry bodies when in motion in right lines. The effect of this inertia, or centrifugal tendency, if not counteracted, would be that all movable bodies on the globe, such as air, water, animals, men, edifices, everything, in short, not held to it by the strongest attachments, would be hurled off into the surround- ing space, just as we see the water and mud fly from the wheels of a carriage in rapid motion. What is the power, which the All-wise and Benignant Author of the Universe has provided, to countervail this dangerous tendency? What is the attractive force which tends to attach each object on the earth's surface to its assigned place, and to resist all the forces that would drive it away ? We need hardly say that gravitation is that power. In conjunction with friction, it anchors edifices to their foundation in the earth, it confines the ocean to its bed, rivers to their channels, animals to their places of rest when asleep. It prevents the air from being dissipated, and thus keeps the earth enveloped in that trans- parent robe of atmosphere and vapor which is one of the great means of maintaining life and promoting the growth and en- joyment of all animated nature. It counteracts the effect of impulses which would otherwise carry bodies away to an in- definite distance from the earth, and causes these bodies, whatever the force by which they are projected, to return speedily to its surface. It seems to watch, as if with sleepless vigilance, over all terrestrial objects, keeps them in subjection to the parent earth, and thus provides that the mass of matter in this, as in every other planet, shall be a constant quantity, thereby maintaining unchanged the relations between those planets and between the several parts in each. But gravity causes motion as well as rest. All matter 1 88 THE THREE WITNESSES. gravitates towards all other matter. Hence, though the earth confines all terrestrial objects near to its own surface, be- cause, being the nearest great mass of matter, its attractive power transcends that of all other bodies in the solar system, still, it is true that each particle of matter on our globe really gravitates towards, or is attracted by, each one of those dis- tant bodies. A visible effect of this attraction may be wit- nessed daily in the rising of the tide. In this case we see water gravitating azvay from the earth, while, on the other hand, — in rain falling to the ground, in streams making their way from higher to lower levels, and serving, as they fall over precipices, to move machinery, — we see water gravitating to- wards the earth. If we would appreciate the innumerable benefits thus bestowed on man by gravity as a moving agent, consider the mechanical power that is furnished ready to our hands by the numberless streams that flow towards the ocean from both sides of the mountain chains which stretch from one extremity of a continent to another, — a power sufficient to manufacture all the raw productions of our fields and mines, and at the same time to transport them to tidewater. How considerate the Wisdom and Kindness which have thus pro- vided forces where they are most needed for the service of man, and how impressive the great law which has ordained that we shall enjoy their aid only when we exercise intelli- gence, self-denial, and a provident industry ! It is worthy of remark, also, that the motions resulting from gravity will be essentially varied by the natures of the bodies through which it acts, according as their constituent particles are held together by cohesion, as in solids, or are disconnected though in contact, as in liquids, or are mutually repellant of each other, as in the atmosphere and other aeriform bodies. The result of this difference, in the constitution of gravitating bodies, is that the same body will ascend in water, which would have descended in a vacuum, and remained .stationary, perhaps, in the air. Water itself, which can only run down MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 189 an open channel by the action of gravity, is made to rise by means of the very same force in the barrel of a pump or in the arm of a bent tube. Gravity will, also, enable any quan- tity of water, however small, if properly disposed, to raise any weight, however great, as is seen in the Hydrostatic press or bellows. In like manner, gravity will impart to a few gallons of water confined in the crevice of a canal-bank or the fissure of a rock an explosive power, like that of gunpowder, and will occasion, in some cases, disruptions and mountain-slides, which are so frequently observed and so imperfectly accounted for. Could it have been less than Infinite Wisdom which thus multiplied and varied the operations of the same agent, and adapted them to the production of such multifarious effects ? 4. Heat. — We have now seen some of the useful results of Gravity, Friction, and Inertia. Their combined action would, in time, bring all inanimate bodies on the earth's surface to a state of rest ; and, were it not for the influence of a counter- acting principle, they would induce universal stagnation and sterility. Water, on the summits of mountains, would soon discharge itself, by the action of gravity, into the lakes and streams below, and these again would flow into the ocean. Thus all means of irrigating the soil would be withdrawn, and vegetation of every kind would languish and die. We need, then, a vivifying power which will break up this deep stagna- tion, which, in the spirit of a Reformer, will withstand the excessive conservatism of the principles we have already no- ticed, and maintain a healthy system of vicissitude and com- pensation. Such a power we have. It is Jieat, — tlie great agitator, — the all-powerful regenerator in natnre. Let us see how it operates, more especially as a mechanical agent ; or, in other words, how it manifests the foresight of the Creator in regard to the welfare and enjoyment of living beings. And 1st. Heat expands water, and hence tlie tvarin currents which are created by the excessive heat of the tropics acting upon the water beneath. The Gulf Stream, which issues out I no ^-^-^ THREE WITNESSES. of the Gulf of Mexico and runs northeasterly along the coast of America, may be an example. It carries with it the heat of its native latitude, and thus serves to mitigate the severity of a northern winter, while a corresponding current on the coast of Africa, bearing south, brings down the cold of anorthern region, and in this way allays the intensity of equatorial heat. A like advantage is attained through the same law in another way. As water becomes cooled on its surface at night or in winter, such superficial portion contracts, becomes heavier, and sinks towards the bottom, while warmer portions rise to the surface, diffusing around their milder influence. On the other hand, in the daytime and in summer, the heat which falls upon the transparent water of the ocean being imbibed much more slowly than that which falls on land, the land becomes warmer than the sea, — whence those grateful breezes which blow at such times from the sea to temper the fervid heat of the ad- jacent shores. In this way the alternations of heat and cold in every locality become much less violent than they would be otherwise, and the inequalities of temperature in differ- ent latitudes, as we shall see hereafter, are redressed by like means. 2d. Another effect of the expansive power of heat is well deserving of our attention. We have seen in a former chap- ter* how the regular rate oi expansion and contraction in bodies acted upon by heat is interrupted in the single case of water, as if with the express intention of avoiding the evils which must ensue if ice were specifically heavier than water. One effect of this exception is, that when we cannot convert ice into water or thaw it, the volume is diminished, although the temperature is increased. Yet another fact, however, and one still more remarkable, characterizes this change as well as the corre- sponding one of the conversion of water into vapor or steam. In each case, that of thawing ice and that of evaporating wa- * Part i. chap. iii. sec. ii. MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER, jgi ter, the sensible heat increases regularly to the point at which liquefaction or vaporization takes place, and then it remains for awhile stationary, even though new supplies of heat be added. In other words, we cannot raise the temperature of a thawing mass of ice till the whole be thawed, nor of boiling water till it is all converted into steam. All the heat that we apply while these changes are going on is absorbed or be- comes latent in producing them. How important this prop- erty ! Like inertia, in respect to the motion of masses, this peculiarity of latent heat secures that the change from ice to water and from water to steam shall be gradual. If it were otherwise, both thaw and evaporation must be instantaneous, and prove as destructive as they are now safe and useful. At the first touch of warmth all the snow which lies on the roofs of our houses would descend like a water-spout into the streets ; all that which rests on the ground would rush like an inundation into the water-courses ; the snow-built hut of the Esquimaux would vanish like a house in a pantomime ; the icy floor of the river would be gone without giving any warning to the skater or traveller ; and when, in heating our water, we reach the boiling-point, the whole fluid would " flash into steam," to use the expression of engineers, and dissipate itself in the atmosphere, or settle in dew on the neighboring ob- jects. It is obviously necessary for the purposes of human life that these changes should be of a more gradual and manageable kind than such as we have now described. Yet this gradual progress of freezing and thawing, of evaporation and con- densation, is produced, so far as we can discover, by a par- ticular contrivance introduced as an exception to a general law and expressly for this one purpose. Like the freezing of water from the top or the floating of ice, the moderating of the rate of these changes seems to be the result of a violation of a law which, from its simplicity, would seem to be the most natural law for all cases. At certain critical points it is modified, and modified precisely in that way which produces 192 THE THREE WITNESSES. these important benefits — may we not add ? — in order to pro- duce them.* The effect of heat in the formation and distribution of va- por is also well worthy of notice. Water evaporates at all temperatures, even when frozen ; so that what we call the air, or atmosphere, is always composed of two elastic and invisi- ble substances — is, in fact, two atmospheres, one of aqueous vapor, the other of common air, — the former being to the lat- ter in the ratio say of r6o; i.e. the proportion of aqueous vapor to that of common air in the atmosphere is on an average about one part in sixty. Whenever the vapor, at any place, falls below the temperature at which it was formed, it returns to the state of water, or is condensed, and, if it be sufficiently cold, also freezes. In either case clouds are formed, the particles of which, whether liquid or frozen, may be so small that they float in the atmosphere. When these parti- cles are aggregated so as to form drops of rain or snowflakes, they descend ; and as clouds are attracted round the brow of mountains, it follows that larger quantities of rain and snow will fall there than on low lands. Thus, by means of heat water is transformed into vapor, lifted above the earth, sus- pended over its surface, and transported from places where it was superfluous to other places where it is needed. It is then restored by condensation to its original state, and brought back as dew, rain, hail, or snow to the ground, through which * Whewell's Bridgewater Treatise. Note. — The actual amount of vapor in the atmosphere at any one time is probably never as much as half the greatest amount which it could hold in so- lution, — i.e. a quantity equal if condensed into rain to, say four and a half inches over the whole surface of the globe. But thirty inches of rain on an average falls every year, so that the vapor must have fallen and been re-evapo- rated fifteen times in the course of a year, and this is exclusive of dew, which is evaporated and condensed much oftener, and which, by a law of equal simplicity and beneficence, bestows its favors where it is most needed, — on the grass-plot and cornfield, — not on the rock, the naked sand, or the trodden highway. So rain does not fall on tlie arid desert, but on the forest. MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER, ig^ it percolates by gravitation, watering plants as it goes, and finally flowing into the ocean or returning back directly to the air by evaporation. Mr. Dalton has calculated that, in Eng- land, thirteen out of thirty-six parts {i.e. about one-third) of all the rain that falls on the earth have been drawn by evapo- ration from the ocean, and the same proportion will, of course, be delivered back to the ocean, through the rivers and creeks which are its tributaries. The benefits of this ceaseless round which is taken by water under the guidance and government of heat are mani- fold, and not less manifold than the testimonies which they yield to the beneficent and provident care of our Heavenly Father. 1st. The vapor distributed throughout the atmos- phere comes in contact with the leaves of plants, and thus supplies a nutriment which is indispensable to their growth ; and in hot and dry weather, when most needed, this supply of vapor is most abundant, because the process of evaporation is then most rapid. 2d, The condensation of this vapor into clouds is fraught with blessing. In summer, these clouds act as an awning or pavilion, excluding the scorching beams of the sun, and thus promoting not merely the comfort of ani- mals, but the growth also of vegetables, — it being found by Duhamel that they gain more in a week of cloudy weather than in a month of hot or dry. In winter, these same clouds become a warm mantle, arresting the escape of heat from the ground, — a process which goes on most rapidly under a cloud- less sky, as is apparent from the fact, so well known to all, that the clearest nights are also the coldest. Snow, and even ice, answer the same purpose still more effectually, inasmuch as being bad conductors of heat, and being near the ground, they help to maintain the higher temperature which the earth has, as compared with the atmosphere ; and they thus favor the vital action going on at the root of plants, while the water in the ground, by freezing and expanding, loosens and pulver- izes the soil, and at the same time serves as the first nourish- es 194 THE THREE WITNESSES. ment of the plant in early spring. 3d. The use of rain and dew we need not dwell upon. It is sufficient to observe, that the greater proportionable quantity which falls on elevated regions is needed in order to irrigate the soil below, and that this water, as it rolls down, wears off and bears along with it the substance of rock and earth, thereby contributing to re- plenish exhausted land and to enrich the country through which it flows ; while it supplies, at the same time, a moving- power for machinery, and means, often, of inland navigation. The uses of winds are quite too numerous to be recounted here. One is well entitled to consideration. The ancients supposed that the equatorial regions of the earth were unin- habitable, on account of their intense heat. Pliny, following Aristotle, says : "The central regions of the earth, where the sun runs his course, are burnt up with fire. The temperate zones which lie on either side can have no communication with each other in consequence of the fervent heat of this re- gion." This opinion prevailed down through the Middle Ages, and was never fully disproved until the time of Columbus. The evil which thus haunted the imaginations of men for centuries, has been guarded against by the constitution of the atmosphere and by the nature of heat. Currents of air or winds are the benignant agents that fly with swift wings through space, carrying away from the equatorial parts of our globe much of their heat to assuage the fierceness of a polar sky and temper the severity of winter everywhere, while counter-currents flow in, loaded with cold, to breathe vigor into the lanijuid frames of those who dwell beneath a torrid sun. There arc several other forces besides heat and gravity which exert great influence on the mechanical changes that are going on, unceasingly, over the globe, as well as on the equilibrium of bodies. Omitting, for the present, such as act at insen- sible distances, and belong on that account to chemistry, we merely mention Electricity, Magnetism, and capillary attraction MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 195 as powers constantly at work, and producing vast and most beneficial results. In considering the manner in which they illustrate the Divine character, one fact, which results fi-om a comparison between them, is striking and significant. It is well known that the intensity of the force of gravitation di- minishes in the inverse ratio of the square of the distance be- tween the gravitating bodies. In other words, if the force of gravity at the distance of ten feet from the centre of the earth be represented by four, at the distance of twenty feet it would be represented by only one ; the distance being increased by two, the gravitation will be diminished by the square of two — i.e. four. The point to which we wish to call attention is the perfect analogy which, in this respect, subsists between all the great forces in nature. Not only gravitation, but also heat, electricity, magnetism, and capillary attraction seem to obey the same laws, their intensities always varying inversely as the squares of the distance. Whenever in works of art we meet, at every turn, the same principle or feature recurring in objects constructed in different ways and for different pur- poses, we do not doubt that this principle had one source, and that nothing but an intelligent unity of design can account for it. In like manner, we point to the fact that the same law or principle characterizes the action of forces apparently so different, as proving that they had one intelligent Author, and that they may be, in truth, but different phases or manifesta- tions of one power in nature. " The more," says Sir H. Davy,* " the phenomena of the universe are studied, the more distinct their connection ap pears, the more simple their causes, the more magnificent their design, and the more wonderful the wisdom and power of their Author." 5. Thus far we have noticed none but inanimate forces, and the manner in which they conspire to produce both rest * Elements of Chemical Philosophy. 196 THE THREE WITNESSES. and motion among terrestrial bodies. There is one other force which maybe characterized z.s> 2i living force : it is the power exerted by men, by animals, and even by vegetables, in counteracting and modifying the effect of material forces, and which is considered here in its mechanical aspect only. Left to themselves, those forces would maintain a certain course often beneficial, yet more frequently, perhaps, destruc- tive to living and sensitive beings. Gravitation, for instance, not counteracted, would fix every animal to the spot on which that animal is born. In moving to obtain food and satisfy other wants, he has to overcome this force. Hence all ani- mals are furnished with a power which may be regarded for the present as mechanical, and which, coupled with more or less intelligence, enables them to react upon the outer world and master or withstand the forces which would injure them, and even to change those forces into friends and auxiliaries. This power of acting, as well as of being acted upon, is pecu- liar to living bodies, and, as manifested in man especially, tends greatly to modify the character and succession of mechanical phenomena. The inanimate forces in nature man cannot annihilate, but he can, in some instances, overcome them by means of his muscular strength, as, for example, in walking he overcomes the power of gravity, inertia, and fric- tion. In other cases, he evades the direct action of a material force, as when he employs an inclined plane to reduce the gravitating force of a body within such limits that he can support or raise it. In other instances, again, he transforms these natural powers from antagonists into helpers or ser- vants, as when he uses the weight of water falling down a cata- ract to move machinery, or to raise him, without effort of his own, from the foot of that cataract to its summit. 6. But man is //in/self a viacliinc, planned and put to"-ether with marvellous skill. Within this microcosm of ours, con- sidered merely as matter, what an as.semblage of lev^ers, pul- leys, cords, joints, braces, tie-beams, pillars, arches, walls, roof! MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 197 Many of the bones in the human body are levers, precisely adapted in length, rigidity, and velocity of motion to their several uses. These levers are moved by muscles, instead of cordage, and they turn on joints which, according to the mo- tions required, are hinge joints, ball-and-socket joints, toggle joints, or mortise and tenon joints. The surfaces of these joints are kept lubricated by a fluid which, like oil in com- mon machinery, serves to diminish friction. When velocity is wanted at the expense of force, it is obtained ; so where force is to be gained at the expense of velocity. The bones of the leg are made hollow, to save weight and material, with- out lessening strength ; they are strengthened, when strength is most needed, by ridges, like the braces in carpentry ; they are adapted to their place and purpose more accurately, ac- cording to Sir C. Bell, than the most perfect pillar or king- post.* Does man stand ? He is an edifice, needing stability; and arches are provided in his feet, formed on principles, says the same high authority, " more correct than the foundation of that perfection of human architecture, the Eddystone light- house." On these arches rest columns to support the su- perior parts of the structure ; and over all is the dome, or head, composed of arches joined in a manner the most exact, and secured against spreading by abutments and tie-beams. But this building is intended for motion as well as rest. It cannot be fastened as a statue is to the pedestal on which it stands, and without which fastening the statue could not re- main erect for an instant. Hence there is an internal mech- anism of muscles and nerves, through the latter of which the living man receives instant notice of the slightest deviation in his posture from the perpendicular, while through the former this deviation is as instantly corrected. Does man move ? He has organs perfectly adapted to that purpose ; and on the instant, all framed and established as he * Animal Mechanics of Sir Charles Bell, 198 THE THREE WITNESSES. is, the edifice becomes locomotive. The foot which, with its arches, lately supported him, is at once transformed into an instrument of motion. The same column, which lately stood firmly on it, is now swung forward as a lever, in order to find a new place for the foundation of the house. The muscles, which were lately employed only in redressing disturbances in the place of the centre of gravity, have now new employ- ment superadded, and in different parts of the body five hun- dred of these cords — being twice the number of the lines in a ship of the largest class — are hanging ready to aid in mov- ing, trimming, or guiding the noble vessel, — a vessel which sprang into existence at first in all its matchless perfection, while vessels of human workmanship have been thousands of years in reaching an excellence immeasurably inferior. Look again at the involitfitajy mechanical functions. Does man breathe ? One hundred muscles have to be employed in every respiration, whether sleeping or waking. Does his heart beat ? It is a powerful engine, making sixty-six strokes in a minute, and driving fluid along a system of pipes which have been laid down through every limb and every fibre of the system ; and all along these pipes there is a contractile power by which the propulsion from the heart is aided and the blood is carried forward in one continuous flow. Does the stomach receive food? Instantly the muscles of that or- gan and the biliary and pancreatic ducts are excited to action. The food, transmuted into chyle and mixed with the bile and pancreatic juices, passes onward ; and then, to strain it off into the blood, myriads of capillary tubes — i.e. pipes as small as hairs — open their orifices into the cavity of every part of the intestines. These tubes, which are so fine and slender as not to be visible except when distended with chyle, soon unite into larger branches. The pipes formed of this union termi- nate in glands, from which other pipes of a still larger diam- eter arising, carry the chyle from all parts into a common reservoir or receptacle ; and thence, again, a main pipe climbs MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 199 up the back part of the chest and creeps along the gullet, and there discharges itself into a large vein, that, mixing with the old blood, it may enter the heart and be carried thence to the lungs. To borrow the words of another, " The heart does the office both of a sucking- and a forcing-pump ; and after having drawn the blood towards it, and forced it into the lungs, where it is aerated, receives it again and sends it as arterial blood to the extremities of the body."* But how inadequate all such sketches of the mechanism of the human frame ! Every part of that frame — the hand, the foot, the eye, the ear, the neck, the tongue, the teeth — would by itself afford themes for a volume. All that we can do is to refer to such Works as have expounded portions of the subject, — such as those of Paley, Bell in his Animal Mechanics, and also in his Treatise on the Hand, and his Notes and Dis- sertations on Paley, Roget and Kirby in their Bridgewater Treatises, and among the ancients, Aristotle and Galen. The few facts which we have just mentioned, can we consider them deeply ? Can we remember the number and variety of the functions which are performed through the mechanism of the body, or compare these with the few simple motions per- formed by the most perfect specimens of human mechanism (such as Maelzel's automata) ? Can we observe, above all, the complexity of the apparatus on which life depends, the innumerable derangements it is liable to, the ease, safety, and regularity with which each part performs its allotted office, and yet not feel that boundless wisdom and power can alone account for the origin and preservation of such a sys- tem ? Galen was converted by his dissections, and " could not but own," says Addison, a " Supreme Being upon a sur- vey of this his handiwork." But ages before dissections were tolerated, — long ere Aristotle and Hippocrates had opened a path into this world of wonders, — when Cimmerian darkness Paley. 200 THE THREE WITNESSES. rested over Anatomy and Physiology, the internal structure of man's frame seems to have been revealed to the sweet singer of Israel and the holy man of Uz. Who guided their pens when they wrote of a structure " fearfully and wonder- fully made; of parts curiously wrought; clothed with skin and flesh, and fenced with bones and sinews," — tracing its gradual growth from " the imperfect substance in the womb to the members which, in continuance, are fashioned when as yet there was none of them," until at length this structure, in all its symmetry and perfection, stands forth ? What but the in- spiration of the Almighty could have enabled them to project their minds hundreds or thousands of years in advance of science, and employ language which is only growing more and more significant with every discovery in Physiology? We do not, of course, mean literally significant; but simply that, as the language of poetry, it seems to become more and more expressive and felicitous in proportion as we become more thoroughly acquainted with the mysteries of our corporeal nature. Remember, however, that man is but one of an almost illimitable variety of animal frames.* The Entomologist reckons up some three hundred thousand different species of insects ; the Herpetologist not less than fifteen hundred known species of reptiles ; the Ichthyologist about eight thousand species of fishes ; the Ornithologist about six thousand of birds, and the Zoologist one thousand of Mammalia, twenty- five hundred of Zoophytes, and eight thousand of Mollusca. Yet in each case the mechanism is so modified as to suit, with *One of the ablest living Naturalists (Lyell) comes to the conclusion that, if we include plants and exclude microscopic beings, we shall have a grand total of between one and two millions of species now inhabiting the terraqueous globe. "Were we to add to these the extinct species as yet most imperfectly known but doubtless transcending the existing* species many times told, we should have a variety of organized structures that might appall the boldest spectator. * See Owen on Br. Reptiles and Mammalia, in Rep. of Br. Assoc. MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 20I faultless precision, the wants and habits of the animal. The organs of locomotion, of digestion, of circulation, of respira- tion, of reproduction, each are fitted, as it respects mechanism and structure, to their use and end in a manner which is found to be more and more admirable just in proportion as it is better and better understood. Say not with the Epicureans of old that the accidental configuration of these parts is the cause of the different uses made of them, since, to adopt the answer of Galen, " the young ones of the several kinds of animals, before their parts are grown up, strive to make the same use of them as others do. Thus, take three eggs, one of an eagle, another of a duck, and a third of a serpent, and, after they are hatched through a moderate heat, we shall find that when they are but newly hatched, the two first will be striving to fly before they have wings, and the third endeavor- ing to creep away on its belly ; and if you breed them up to greater perfection and bring them into the open air, you will presently see the young eagle mounting into the air, the duck waddling in a pool, and the serpent creeping under ground." Before we ascribe this to necessity or accident, we should wait with Stillingfleet " till we see a thousand blind men run the point of a sword in at a key-hole without once missing ; till we find them all frisking together in a spacious field and ex- actly meeting all at last in the very middle of it ; till we find, as Tully speaks, the annals of Ennius fairly written in a heap of sand, and, as Kepler's wife told him, a room full of herbs, moving up and down, fall down into the exact order of salads, — then may we think the atomical hypothesis proba- ble, and not before."* In considering the mechanism of man and other animals, there is another point which well deserves our notice : it is the perfect adjustment between the living forces in animals, and, we may add, in vegetables, and the forces in inorganic or * Stillingfleet's Origines Sacrse, i. p. 463. 202 I'HE THREE WITNESSES. inanimate nature. This is such that any material change would induce the utmost disorder and suffering. Suppose, for example, the muscular power of animals remaining the same, the force of gravity were to be materially increased, " it is manifest," saysWhewell, " that all the swiftness and strength and grace of animal motions must disappear. Now, why is it that the quantity of matter in the earth or in animal bodies corresponds so happily with the intensity of the vital forces ? We can see no necessity for the precise magnitude that the earth now has, nor can we assign any reason why it should not have been as large as Jupiter or as small as Mercury, since the masses of the planets seem to follow no regular law."* The same remark may be applied to the size of animals, and also to that of vegetables, in which last we see the same per- fect adjustment between the force which raises the sap, the magnitude of the plant, and the intensity of gravitation. I can conceive of no explanation at all adequate to the diffi- culty, except that these quantities, in themselves so independ- ent of each other, have been selected with special reference to the wants and enjoyments of sensitive creatures, and that they thus serve to proclaim the watchful care and beneficence of that Being who weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance ; who holdeth the waters in the hollow of his hand, and who doth not suffer even a sparrow to fall unnoticed to the ground. Throughout this chapter we have dwelt on the fearful evils which would ensue were any material change to be made in the mechanical constitution of the universe. It is a subject on which beings so limited and straitened in intelligence as we are, ought to express themselves with the greatest diffi- dence. But one consideration besides those already mentioned, and one significant of the Wisdom and Beneficence of the Author of these laws, may be found in the fact that any ma- * Bridgewater Treatise. MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 203 terial change of which we can conceive, whether in the laws of gravitation or of heat, of friction or of muscular power, would draw after it not only certain direct evils, but would be attended also by an almost infinite train of incidental and col- lateral evils by reason of the innumerable other laws and operations with which that single one would be found to be connected and complicated ; and those evils, as far as we can comprehend, could be averted only by such changes in each one of those other laws as would adapt then: to the new state of things created by the first change. Thus, one change in the mechanical and material constitution of the universe would seem to introduce the necessity of further change throughout all its parts. The human mechanician can arrest the motion of his machinery, — can take out one of its parts and substi- tute another of different construction, and perhaps not alter thereby essentially the general working of the instrument. Not so with the mechanism of the Universe, more intimately connected and interdependent as it is in its parts, more com- plicated as well as more refined in its movements. Change, for example, the constitution of the air with respect to the transmission of sound and light, and no finite intelligence could compute the number and magnitude of the alterations which would become necessary throughout nature in order to restore the operations of the system to its harmony and be- nignant influence. Corresponding changes must take place in the organs for seeing and hearing of all orders of animals on the globe. These last changes, again, would necessitate cor- responding alterations in the structure and workings of that invisible and spiritual mechanism through which impressions made on the external organs become sources of knowledge, of emotion, and of action. So, again, in sounding and lumi- niferous bodies, there must be changes to enable them to adapt the force or direction of their vibrations to the altered nature of the medium they are to traverse ; and who knows that the mechanical constitution of the atmosphere, with respect to 204 "^^^ THREE WITNESSES. sound or light, could be altered without altering all its other properties, so that as a medium of respiration — a source of winds and vapors, a moving-power in mechanics, an instru- ment of voice — its value might all at once be destroyed ? With one other remark we will close these Mechanical Il- lustrations. We have thus far directed attention to the proxi- mate causes of motion, — such as heat, gravitation, and mus- cular power, — and have shown, in some few respects, how happily these have been adapted to show forth the goodness, wisdom, and holiness of God. But, as proximate causes of motion, each of these forces prompts the mind to inquire after the ultimate and efficient ground of all motion and all force. Whence did heat and gravity and muscular contractility derive their energies ? They are but unconscious involuntary agents. They can originate nothing. In themselves inert, passive, they can have only what has been given, — can exert but the power that has been borrowed from without. " Nothing," says Berkeley, " that we know under the name of body or matter contains in it what can possibly be the beginning or efficient cause of motion ;" and the ancients, as long ago as the time of Anaxagoras, laid it down as an apothegm that all motion has its origin in mind. How large a portion of our own me- chanical motions originate in the previous volition of our minds, experience clearly teaches ; and this experience, com- bined with the evident and acknowledged inefficiency of all matter and all mechanical, chemical, or vital forces, as primary and independent sources of motion, and with the irrepressible disposition of untutored children and savages, to ascribe all mechanical changes to the presence of a living, intelligent power, — all this seems to force upon us the conviction that the Will of an Infinitely-powerful Being can alone account for the various and stupendous movements of the material uni- verse. "All that is in motion," says Aristotle, " refers us to a mover ; and it were but an endless adjournment of causes were there not di primary immovable Mover." CHAPTER II. CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. OF the Sciences which have distinguished themselves during the last century as practical Benefactors of man- kind, perhaps none is more worthy of notice than Chemistry. Within that century it has bestowed on the mechanical arts their most powerful auxiliary, since it is within that time that the Steam-Engine has acquired most of its efficiency and value. It has also contributed to improve and cheapen many of the operations in different departments of industry, such as bleaching, dyeing, sugar-refining, and tanning. But in every such useful application of Chemical Science we behold a new proof of Divine Wisdom and Goodness, and even of Divine Rectitude, since each shows that the natural world has been stored with powers and substances which remain latent till they are drawn forth by man's inquisitive mind and skil- ful hand ; but which are no sooner discovered than they serve to redouble the power of his Industry and the means of his enjoyment. Here, then, as elsewhere, there is a twofold indi- cation of the Divine Beneficence: ist, in constituting agents so perfectly fitted for man's service and the promotion of his physical well-being; and 2d, vouchsafing the possession and use of them only on conditions which conduce directly to his intellectual — and may we not add ? — to his moral and spiritual improvement. The use and application of Chemistry in Agriculture and Manufactures is attracting, at present, a large share of atten- tion throughout the world. It will be our object, in this chapter, to suggest another use of the Science, not less interest- ing or important, though less frequently discussed. If the (205) 2o6 THE THREE WITNESSES. improved cultivation of the soil be of great moment to man- kind, it should not be forgotten that there is another and yet hisjher culture, even that of the mind and the heart. Man eats and drinks and builds and provides raiment, not because these in themselves are great and ultimate ends of his being, but mainly because he thereby better fits himself for that moral and spiritual Jinsbandry which would rear, on the soil of his own soul, the undying plants of faith, hope, and charity, and which can alone supply him with that bread from heaven that fills without satiating the cravings of an immortal nature. To show how the study of Chemical Philosophy can be made to conduce to this object is the special aim of this chapter. The religious instruction to be derived from Chemistry will become more apparent if we consider — i. The Lazvs of Chemi- cal Affinity. 2. The materials which have been provided in nature for this afiinity to act upon. 3. Its agency in main- taining the phenomena of animal and vegetable life. The Laws of Chemical Affinity. — Chemical Affinity is a force which acts not on masses of matter, but on the par- ticles or molecules which compose such masses. Its attractive force is exerted only at insensible distances ; it acts only be- tween substances of different kinds ; and its effect is to change only the interior state of bodies. When a force acts at sen- sible distances and on masses of matter, it is called a meclian- ical force. When it acts at insensible distances, but between homogeneous particles, it is called cohesion. Affinity acts only between heterogeneous particles, just as electrical and mag- netic attraction is an attraction only between opposite or heter- ogeneous polarities. Herein Chemical Affinity differs from cohesion, as well as in the fact that it unites particles not by aggregation, as cohesion docs, but by incorporation ; such that there is a mutual union and interpenetration of the ele- mentary substances, in many cases so perfect that the distin- guishing properties of those substances disappear, and prop- erties wholly new are developed. Finally, particles united by CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 207 cohesion are separated by abrasion, or by a dividing plane, and when thus separated remain unchanged ; particles com- bined by affinity need to be decomposed, and then each con- stituent is found to resume all its original qualities. In many cases both the composition and decomposition of bodies are effected by means of electricity, and it may be that chemical affinity is only a modification of that mysterious and all-per- vading agent. On this question, however, we need not enter. It will be evident, that in considering chemical phenomena and laws, the mind must be directed beyond bodies, as they usually exist in nature, to the simple or elementary substances out of which they are constituted. Of these simple substances Chemists have discovered some sixty in all, of which forty- eight are metals. The endless variety of compound bodies, then, which we observe in nature, — whether they be solid, liquid, or aeriform, organic or inorganic, — maybe resolved into two or more of these simple bodies. Whatever chemical changes take place, whether of composition or decomposition, whether they transpire in animate or inanimate substances, are but the marching and countermarching of these same ele- mentary substances under the direction, in part, of affinity ; and what is especially worthy of remark, the greatest proportion of these changes, especially as they occur in organized bodies, the marvellous transformations which substances undergo in the bodies of animals and of plants, involve, for the most part, but four 02it of these sixty simple bodies, viz., oxygeji, hydrogen, nitrogen, and carbon. How admirable the skill and economy which, out of so small a number of materials, can elaborate such an infinite diversity of objects ! Here, then, is an attractive force (chemical affinity) between heterogeneous substances. The general value of such a force is too obvious to require remark. Without it all bodies or masses of matter would be homogeneous, and, accordingly, the different kinds of bodies could be multiplied only by the creation of so many independent and different kinds of mat- 2o8 THE THREE WITNESSES. ten Noiv some sixty different simple substances yield by combination an endless diversity in bodies. Without affinity we must consent either to surrender this diversity or must tax the Creator to modify his creative energies in all the countless ways referred to. But remark further in respect to this force, that it is, 1st, ^. graduated force. A simple substance, having affinity in a slight degree for a second, may for a third have a stronger affinity, for a fourth one yet stronger, and so on to any extent. Thus, alcohol has an affinity for camphor, for it will dissolve it ; but it has more affinity for water, for if water be poured upon camphorated spirits, the alcohol separates from the camphor and unites with the water. Or, to take a better example from an old chemist (Stahl) : " In spirit of nitre dissolve silver; put in copper, and the silver is thrown down ; put in iron, and the copper goes down ; put in zinc, the iron precipitates ; put in volatile alkali, the zinc is separated ; put in fixed alkali, and the volatile alkali quits its hold."* Thus we have spirit of nitre preferring, in succession, six bodies : first silver, for which its affinity is feeblest, then copper, then iron, then zinc, then volatile alkali, and lastly fixed alkali. Where affinity is very weak, as between water and most of the solids which it dissolves, or as between the two gases that form the atmosphere, the properties of the in- gredients are not wholly obliterated, but merely qualified, or, as it were, diluted, thus the better adapting them to use. The gradations in this force to which we have referred, open boundless scope, too, for the play of what is called elective affinities, and thus secure that compositions and decompo- sitions shall continually take place both in nature and under the direction of man. But, 2d. If we take two (simple) substances, having a mu- tual affinity, it is a fact deserving special consideration that these same substances cati be couibiiied in different proportions^ * Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences. CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 209 and that the rcs2ilt, in each case, is a new compound, differing from the preceding compounds as much, perhaps, as they dif- fered from the ingredients. Thus, chlorine and mercury united in one proportion form the medicine, calomel ; in another the poison, corrosive sublimate. If from the inorganic we pass to the organic world, we find in vegetables that " the sweet crystallizable principle of the sugar, the bitter febrifuge of the willow bark, the fixed and permanent acid of the grape, the highly volatile acid of vinegar, and many other equally well- contrasted substances, are composed of the same three ele- mentary bodies, merely differing slightly in the proportions in which they are associated. A very few grains of the vege- table alkali, morphia, or a fraction of a grain of another member of the same chemical family, strychnia, will destroy life. The bread we subsist upon owes its nutritious power to a combi- nation of the very same elements which, in other circumstances, give rise to the poisonous juice of the poppy, or the still more deadly principle of the nux vomica."* Thus we see to what a multitude of different and even opposite uses Infinite wisdom has been able to apply the very same substances, mereily by varying the proportions in which they can combine. But, 3d. It is equally worthy of remark that the number of these compounds, which can be formed from a union of the same elements in different proportions, is limited, extending to no cases except those in which the numbers representing the proportions are multiples of those which represent the simple ratio of combination. The final cause of this seems to be obvious. " Were it otherwise," says Mr. Whewell, in his Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, " were each element ready to combine with any other indifferently, and indiffer- ently in any quantity, we should have a world in which all would be confusion and indefiniteness. There would be no fixed kinds of bodies ; salts and stones and ores would ap- * Fownes's Prize Essay. 14 210 THE THREE WITNESSES. proach to and graduate into each other by insensible degrees. Instead of this we know that the world consists of bodies distinguishable from each other by definite differences, capa- ble of being classified and named, and of having general propo- sitions asserted concerning them. And as we cannot con- ceive," the same writer adds, "a world in which this should not be the case, it would appear that we cannot conceive a state of things in which the laws of the combinations of ele- ments should not be of that definite and measured kind which we have above described."* In thus maintaining that these laws are necessaiy, and that they form an indispensable element in our conceptions, Mr. Whewell has reproduced, in connection with Chemistry, an idea which pervades the great work just mentioned, and which he applies, in the spirit of a Platonic philosopher, to all physical laws whatever. In this respect there seems to be a material discrepancy between the views contained in this his last and most elaborate work and those set forth in his Bridgcivatcr Treatise, where he frequently insists that the laws in nature have the character of arbitrary appointments, selected not from any intrinsic necessity, but in part, at least, because they were such as would conduce to the Divine glory and the welfare of all animated beings. The latter would seem to be the more correct view. In maintain- ing that " we cannot conceive a world" in which the laws of chemical composition should not embrace the principles of definite proportions, Mr. Whewell appears to have forgotten that in the two preceding sentences of the same paragraph he had himself placed before his readers a distinct account of what would have been the " indefiniteness and confusion" of a world in which this law did not obtain. The truth seems to be that these laws have the character not of absolute, but of relative, necessity ; or, in other words, they arc necessary, not in themselves, but in order to promote the greatest amount * Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, v. ii. p. 132. CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 2II of good and be most in conformity with our notions of an Infinitely-wise and perfect Lawmaker; and it is in the fact we can conceive of other laws immeasurably less beneficial to his creatures and less conformable to the notions of per- fection which we assume that He has given us, — in this fact we find evidence that the existing laws have been selected, and that their selection implies Wisdom and Goodness. We cannot dismiss this branch of the subject without no- ticing the refutation which is given by these laws of chemical affinity to the notion of the Eternity and Self-existent nature of matter. Examined by these laws, each particle or atom of matter is found to possess certain specific and invariable properties and certain definite relations to atoms having other properties. These properties and relations cannot be consid- ered without suggesting to us the idea of an Intelligent Cause. Each atom in nature has " all the essential characters," to use the happy language of Sir John Herschel, " at once of a manufactured article and a subordinate agent." And so if we consider the action of chemical forces on a great scale in nature, we shall find that, like mechanical forces, they point distinctly back to a beginning of the present system. It has been sug- gested by some philosophers that the heat observed in the interior of the earth, and found to increase as we descend to- wards the centre, does not arise out of an originally hot con- dition from which the globe is gradually cooling, but results from chemical action constantly going on now among the materials of the earth's substance ; and this conjecture, feebly supported as it is, is sometimes employed to negative the idea that the past can have differed from the present, or that any other forces than those now in operation can ever have been exerted in nature. The true inference, however, as has been well observed by another,* would be precisely the reverse, " for chemical forces, as well as mechanical, tend to equilib- * Whewell. 212 THE THREE WITNESSES. rium, and that condition once attained, their efficacy ceases. Chemical affinities tend to form new compounds, and though, when many and various elements are mingled together, the play of synthesis and analysis may go on for a long time, it must at last end. If, for instance, a large portion of the earth's mass were originally pure potassium, we can imagine violent igneous action to go on so long as any part remained unox- idized ; but when the oxidation of the whole has once taken place, this action must be at an end ; for there is on the hy- pothesis no agency which can reproduce the deoxidized metal. Thus, a perpetual motion is impossible in chemistry, as it is in mechanics, and a theory of constant change, continued through infinite time, is untenable when asserted upon chemi- cal, no less than upon mechanical, principles." We have thus looked at chemical affinity, and indicated some portions of the religious instruction to be gathered from its nature and laws. Let us now consider the Mate- rials which have been provided for this force to act upon, and out of which, in conjunction with other forces, it elabo- rates that vast variety of bodies to be observed in animate and inanimate nature. Let it be remarked here that we are not to suppose that the enjoyments of sensitive beings, or even the mental and moral improvement of mankind, forms the only object of this wondrous economy in the midst of which we dwell. The artist sketches from nature, or he em- bodies on canvas the creations of his fancy, not merely to gratify others but often that he may pour forth the overflow- ing fulness of his own creative energy and enjoy, in clearer and more vivid contemplation, his own conceptions. May it not be thus with the Creator of the Universe? When we consider what amazing and abounding displays of the Divine munificence and handiwork are hidden in the dark chambers of the sea, or in the deep recesses of the wilderness, where the eye of cultivated man never rests, we must feel that to promote his enjoyment or the enjoyment even of the unnum CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 213 bered orders of living beings that throng the air and roam over the earth and swarm in all waters, is not the only object of an Infinite Creator. Yet, doubtless, it is one great object; and, in dwelling upon the indications of provident wisdom and goodness which we observe in the chemical constitution of the globe, we are compelled, for the time, to make it the chief subject of our contemplation. It ought never to be for- gotten, however, that " these are but parts of his ways ;" that it is not for man, even in his best estate, to draw aside all that veil which enshrouds the Creator's universal plans ; that we can lift but one corner, as it were, of such a veil, and that while we may safely judge of the use and import of the parts exposed to view, in some respects, there will yet remain other and perhaps infinitely higher respects in which even their uses will be hidden from our sight. Organic Chemistry. — In attempting to show how the Creator has manifested his foresight and goodness in providing the proper materials for chemical affinity to act upon, in adjusting the relative quantities of these materials, and in so locating them that beneficial action will take place spontaneously, or be more easily compassed by man, we proceed at once to the subject of Organic or Vital Chemistry, and to the interesting relations which subsist between animals, vegetables, and unor- ganized substances. Every animal has a body, composed of material parts and organs, by means of which life is maintained and a relation is established between such animal and the external world. In other words, he has organs of nutrition and assimilation essen- tial to life, and organs of sensation and motion, without which external objects could not act upon him, nor he upon them. The entire body of the animal is built up out of substances which it receives as food, and which must be of such a nature that they can furnish the requisite material for all the different parts and tissues, such as bone, cartilage, sinew, teeth, skin, hair, flesh, etc. No food answers this description unles.s 214 THE THREE WITNESSES. it be an organized substance that once had h'fe. Unorganized substances, such as carbon, hydrogen, or nitrogen, can furnish directly no nutriment to animals. On the contrary, when taken into their systems, in an elementary state, these substances would cither be expelled as enemies or would be retained only as a clog that paralyzes vigor and is likely to accelerate decay and death. Vegetables, or the flesh of other animals, must constitute the aliment of all animals ; and where this aliment is flesh, it will be found, by tracing it back to its source, that it was originally formed out of vegetables; so that the vege- table world becomes the great laboratory in which food is prepared for the subsistence of the countless myriads that swim, or creep, or run, or fly. But whence do vegetables derive their nourishment ? They, too, live and grow, rising from the small seed buried in the earth till they become a tree, a shrub, or plant. Ev^en after they attain the fulness of their growth they still need aliment to repair a waste continually going on. Whence, then, can vegetables derive the material for building up their super- structure but from the inorganic world mainly, — from the earth, air, and water ? Unorganized substances afford food for vegetables ; vegetables supply food for animals. The body of an animal, if decomposed, will be found to consist of various simple bodies, or elementary substances, combined in certain proportions. But there is no assimilating power in the animal itself equal to the task of achieving such a trans- formation as those simple bodies must undergo before they can become flesh. The mysterious but all-subduing power of vegetable chemistry must be applied to them in the first in- stance. By its agency they are made to approximate the character and condition of animal substances, and then the simpler and less powerful action of aniinal cJiemistry is super- added, in order to complete the transformation. No artificial combination of those simple bodies, however exactly it may imitate those elaborated by the process of vege- CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 215 tation, can be rendered nutritious. Vegetables, therefore, stand between animals and unorganized substances as a sort of kitchen in which the latter are prepared — as it were, cooked — for the consumption of the former. After being thus manu- factured or cooked, they take the name of proximate as dis- tinguished from simple elements ; and when considered as food for animals are divided by Liebig into two kinds, — the first, called plastic elements of tiutrition ; the second, elements of respiration. The first class, comprising such substances as vege- table albumen, fibrin, and casein, seems to be employed in the repair and nourishment of the body. The second class, in- cluding, for instance, starch, gum, sugar, mucilage, etc., as they exist in plants, constitutes what the distinguished chemist just named has happily denominated fuel-food. We say happily denominated, for, strange as it may appear, these substances do seem to be actually burned in the body of the animal, in the capillary blood-vessels throughout the whole system. Being first converted into a part of that body, — incorporated with it, — they are then slowly consumed or burned, in order to furnish that promethean heat which, in one sense, sets in motion the whole machinery of life. We speak here advisedly. To borrow the words of another,* " it is with premeditation and choice of terms that the capillary system is termed a fire- place or furnace. " Carbon and hydrogen are burned in the blood, and this to an extent which will strike with surprise, and at first incredu- lity, those unaccustomed to such considerations. Many ounces of carbon are, in every individual, daily rejected from the lungs as carbonic acid. It is' impossible that combustible matter can thus be disposed of without the evolution of a vast amount of heat, — as much heat, in fact, as if it had been burned in a fire-grate. This heat is manifest in the elevation of temperature which the animal frame always possesses above * Fownes's Prize Essay, p. 105. 2i6 THE THREE WITNESSES. that of the surrounding medium, — an elevation of tempera- ture always in direct proportion to the amount of nervous and muscular energy of the animal, and to the vigor of its respiration, but never in any single case altogether absent." " The internal capillary combustion is the source of animal heat. " Thus much for the body. Everywhere that blood-vessels are to be found, every part where nervous influence is per- ceptible, every organ, every tissue, muscle, and brain, and nerve, and membrane waste away like a burning taper, con- sume to air and ashes, and pass from the system, rejected and useless ; and where no means are at hand for repairing these daily and hourly losses, the individual perishes, — dies more slowly, but not less surely, than by a blazing pile. He is, to the very letter, burned to death at a low temperature ; the various constituents of the body give way in succession : first, the fat disappears (that is the most combustible, but at the same time the least essential), — it is sacrificed; then the muscles shrink and soften and decay. At last, the substance of the brain becomes attacked, and madness and death close the scene. This is starvation." The provisions which the Creator has made for maintaining an equilibrium between the organic and inorganic worlds should be considered here. Animals subsist on vegetables ; vegetables on inorganic matter, especially on gaseous matters in the air, prepared for their consumption by the action of solar light and heat,* and received generally through the root mixed with water. Now, if there were no provision for re- storing the matters thus abstracted from the air and eartli, it is plain that these inorganic materials would ultimately be exhausted. But, in the process just described, we have seen that the animal combustion which supplies vital heat, and, in some measure, at least, nervous activity and force, disengages, * Fownes's Essay. CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 217 like all other combustion, inorganic constituents, which thus return to the air and soil to recommence their labor in build- ing up living vegetable structures. The carbonic acid gas expelled from the lungs at each expiration is precisely like that which ascends from fuel blazing in a grate or stove ; and animal manures, according to Liebig, are but the ashes of the food produced at first in our fields, and then burned in the bodies of men and animals. In this way matter, which is constantly withdrawn from the inorganic world to serve as food, having fulfilled its appointed task, is sent back to that world, and thus keeps up one constant round in the service of men and animals. If vegetables produce neutral azotized substances, such as albumen and fibrin, animals consume or decompose them. If the vegetable manufactures sugar, starch, and gum out of oxygen, hydrogen, and carbon, the animal decomposes the manufactured article, and it goes back as oxygen, hydrogen, and carbon to the place whence it came. If both water and carbonic acid are decomposed by the vege- table, both are produced again by the animal. The vegetable, to borrow the language of the French chemist, is " an appa- ratus of reduction ;" the animal is an apparatus of oxidation or combustion. What the one takes away from the inorganic world the other gives back. Let us now direct our attention to the first term of this ever- recurring series. We have seen that inorganic nature, more especially the air when acted upon by the sun, is the great primary source of nutriment, even for animals, — vegetables being the chemists or cooks that reduce this nutriment to a proper state for animal consumption. Do we find, then, in the constitution of dead matter, or, in other words, of inor- ganic substances, in their properties or in the proportions in which they exist, any evidence of Divine forecast and wis- dom ? — any marks of an admirable Providence, such as the Bible ascribes to Him who heareth young ravens when they cry, and giveth meat even to famishing beasts of prey ? This 2i8 THE THREE WITNESSES. question wc can answer with more precision when we have specified what is the primary food for animals ; or, in other words, what simple substances enter into the composition of animal bodies, and what provisions exist in the air and earth for supplying them. Besides its four main elements, — oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen, — the body of ev^ery animal contains, also, in much smaller proportions, soda, potash, lime, phosphorus, iron, and sulphur. Soda, according to Liebig, exists largely in the bile and blood; potash in the muscles; iron and sulphur in the blood ; lime, both as a carbonate and a phosphate, in the bones and teeth. Is it not, then, most in- teresting, as well as most indicative of God's parental fore- sight, to find that all these substances are provided not only so, but are stored up in such places and in such proportions as are best calculated to meet the necessities of animals ? It is like the accumulation of stores of provisions at different points over a great extent of country, which a wise general makes on the eve of a campaign, — with this difference, that where the army supplies, in respect to any article, are defi- cient, the consumption of the men must be restricted. Whereas, in the great commissariat system of the Creator, any apparent deficiency in supply is made up usually by the rapidity with which the article is brought in. It is in this particular like the economy of a commander-in-chief, who should employ his men in raising by tillage a portion of the food they need; or, it is like circulating coin, where the same piece becomes the agent of effecting a great many different exchanges. Take carbonaceous matter, for example. Every well-fed, healthy man employed in labor consumes about fourteen ounces of carbon daily ; so that the whole amount consumed daily over the surface of the earth by men and animals must be enormous. But all, or nearly all this carbon being burned in the blood, goes back as carbonic acid into the air ; and there, if it were allowed to accumulate, the baleful gas would soon destroy the life which, as carbon, it has previously cherished. But that CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 219 which is deadly to animals is the appointed aliment of vege- tables. As fast as carbonic acid gas is given off from the lungs of the one its carbon is taken up by the leaves of the other; and thus the normal proportion of this irrespirable gas in the atmosphere is never but about one-two-thousandth part of the whole, which is perfectly harmless, and at the same time its agency as aliment for plants and animals is perfectly secured. In the air and in water are abundant magazines for supplying oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen ; and, did our space permit, it would be instructive to trace the provisions which have been made for replacing such portions of them as are withdrawn to sustain animal and vegetable life. Omitting this, however, we proceed to inquire whence the animal frame derives its alkaline and earthy constituents, — its soda for the blood and its lime for the bones. They come immediately, of course, from the vegetables, which are taken into the system as food, and which contain more or less of soda, lime, potash, sulphur, and iron. Here, again, is evidence of prospective and far- seeing arrangements. Iron, sulphur, and lime exist in small portions in almost every soil, and are taken up from it. The soil itself — i.e. the earth's upper covering — is made up mainly of sand, clay, and calcareous matter, which have been ground down, by the action of water, from those great mountain- chains which ridge and furrow the surface of the globe. These mountain-chains consist principally of granite ; and in this granite we find, besides the sand and ordinary clay, that potash and phosphoric acid which are important constituents in bone and muscle, so that, to use the language of another, " every earthquake which has in bygone times fractured and dislocated the solid strata of our planet; every flood which has swept over the ancient continents ; every change of level which has elevated the bed of ocean, or depressed the land beneath its surface, has contributed more or less to bring about that mixture of materials that now form the fruit-bearing 220 ^^^^ THREE WITNESSES. soil, — the inexhaustible source of prosperity and strength. Is it too much to infer that all these things had reference to that future condition of the earth when it should become the habitation of beings capable of appreciating the wonders around them, and deriving mental support and guidance from the contemplation of these wonderful provisions while enjoy- ing with thankfulness the physical comforts to which they give rise?" Another point in the provisions which have been made for the sustenance and nutrition of animals, is not "unworthy of notice. Unlike other animals, man is framed to dwell in every part of the earth, — amid the snows of Lapland and the eter- nal ice of the Polar circle, as well as beneath the intense heat of torrid climes. He is also obliged, in many cases, to un- dergo great vicissitudes of heat and cold, moisture and dry- ness, labor and repose. Now, in very cold climates, the dif- ference between the temperature of the air and that of the animal frame is so great, and warmth is so rapidly abstracted from the latter by the former, that much more vital heat must be generated within, in order to maintain the normal state of the body, than would be necessary in warmer latitudes. In other words, either the furnace grate must be supplied with more fuel, or a fuel that evolves more caloric must be substi- tuted. And how is this emergency provided for ? In a manner which ought to impress the most thoughtless. In tropical climates, where there is little disparity between the temperature of the air and that of the body, and where the luxuriance of vegetation supersedes the necessity of a labori- ous tillage, men want little fuel-food, and but little is provided. The rice and fruits which grow in such profusion in these cli- mates contain, besides water in a free state, only oxygen and hydrogen in the proportions to form water ; and they are bodies that yield, when burnt in the blood, comparatively little heat. On the contrary, in the Arctic and Antarctic regions, and generally where the cold is severe, man is furnished with CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 221 an abundance of animal flesh and fat, — substances that con- tain a great proportion of carbon as well as hydrogen ; and being oxidized, these yield copious supplies of heat to re- place that which constantly escapes from the body. At the same time, in order to provide a sufficient amount of oxygen to consume this fuel-food, the atmosphere, in such regions, is more dense ; and the individual, being compelled to win his subsistence by means of severe muscular effort, his inspira- tions are also deeper and more frequent. We all know how much labor and cold weather contribute to sharpen our ap- petites, and we may have observed, too, that it is on the return of winter that game is most abundant and best supplied with fat. Look, again, at the nutriment everywhere provided by a Beneficent Creator for the young of the higher order of ani- mals. No sooner does the parent conceive than a mysterious change takes place in the secretions of her frame, one conse- quence of which is the formation of a liquid called milk, that is found to be precisely adapted to the desires and wants of her progeny after birth. The leading constituent in this liquid is a substance (casein) almost identical, in composition, with muscular fibre and with the albumen of the blood. Hence but the simplest change is necessary in order to transform it into the flesh of the young and helpless animal. Milk, also, con- tains a large proportion of earthy phosphates, in the very state of solution that most facilitates the formation of bone, — a process all-important at this period. It contains, in addition, liberal quantities of butter and sugar of milk, which answer the purpose of elements of respiration, the breathing of chil- dren being, as we all know, very rapid, and the combustion that takes place in their blood proportionably energetic. To crown this list of adaptations, and show that in the secretion of this liquid no ingredient which could promote the nourish- ment and well-being of the young animal has been omitted, chemists have also found that it contains saline matters, and a slight proportion of iron. 222 THE THREE WITNESSES. Nor is this provision for the nourishment and growth of the young to be observed only in the higher classes of organized hfe. It is found wherever infant hfe exists, and it comprises the period that precedes, as well as that wliich follows, birth. Take the seed of a plant, for example ; it is, in fact, its off- spring in the foetal state, or that state which precedes birth ; it is the germ of a new plant, inclosed in nutritious matter on which that germ subsists and grows, until its organism is de- veloped and the matter is consumed ; and then it bursts forth, the radicle to seek fresh nourishment in the earth, the seed- leaves to push upward and gain stimulus and aliment from the air and light. It is the same with the &^^ of the oviparous tribes, and with the ovum of the higher orders of animals. The ovum is either surrounded by nutritious substances which are gradually assimilated as soon as its energies are roused into action, or it has the power of abstracting aliment from the body of the parent. How beautiful and touching this provident care, — this solicitude for the preservation and nour- ishment of every living thing ! " Doth God take care for oxen?" said Paul, when alluding to that benevolent provision of the Mosaic law which forbade the muzzling of animals that were treading out corn. All nature seems to resound with an affirmative answer. Not only does He watch over the sustenance of the toiling beast, as over that of the labor- ing man ; not only does He cause the earth to teem with abundance for animals that roam abroad in unrestricted free- dom,— He cares for the young lion, for the helpless little ones of every tribe, for the yet imprisoned tenants of the womb, for the seed that falls to the earth or floats on thistle-down through the air. Nay, in respect to the seed of plants. He evinces yet more of this far-reaching and parental providence. For months before the seed forms a7id lipens processes are on foot to facilitate and secure that event; and these processes have been recurring constantly and regularly, from the first day that " the earth brought forth grass and herb yielding seed CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 223 after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself after his kind." The process of seed-bearing, as well as that of efflorescence, which precedes it, is exhausting to a plant. None of the parts or organs employed in these opera- tions contribute like leaves to the nutrition of the plant; and at the same time soluble gums and saccharine matters are withdrawn from its whole system, in order to form the fruit and seeds. How admirable here, also, the provision which has been made to secure the desired end, and yet diminish the evils of this exhausting process ! The time which precedes flow- ering, when the vegetating power is most active, seems to be diligently employed in treasuring up, in different parts of the plant, a quantity of starch " ready for use when the pressing occasion arrives." It is then redissolved and added to the general stock of nutriment. There is reason to apprehend that, but for this beneficent arrangement, the ripening of seeds could hardly take place. As it is, the important process is no sooner over than the plant exhibits every sign of ex- haustion, and often dies. We have thus touched upon a {e.\M of the ways in which God has exerted his marvellous wisdom and kindness in pro- viding the raw materials out of which Chemical Affinity, in conjunction with another force to be discussed hereafter, elab- orates the substance and phenomena of organized bodies, whether vegetable or animal. But, in addition to the simple substances that enter into the composition of plants or ani- mals, there are others which, though not employed in this way, are yet useful to man in the various arts of life. Some of them, however, are intensely poisonous, and it is a subject for grateful consideration that, in such cases, these substances have either been so masked, by mixture with other substances, as to be generally harmless, except where there is the requi- site knowledge to isolate and use them properly ; or else they have been so sparingly provided that they are not likely to prove injurious. What woes, for example, would not have 224 THE THREE WITNESSES. been occasioned if opium, instead of being extracted only by means of great labor and skill from the poppy, had grown abundantly on trees like apples ? What would have been the effect had the oxide of lead and of copper been as common as that of iron? The latter, in small quantities, is not only harm- less, but, as we have seen, is a constituent of the animal frame, while in the operations of industry it is, of all materials, per- haps, the most indispensable. On the other hand, the mi- nutest portions of lead absorbed into the system from day to day, lead at length to disastrous results. So with carbonate of lime, as compared with carbonate of baryta. Flad the lat- ter been as prevalent as the former, it may be doubted whether animals could have existed on the earth. It is, also, worthy of remark, that where dangerous sub- stances are constantly necessary in order to maintain the economy of life, they are almost always laid under bonds for their good behavior by being united with other substances, which neutralize or mitigate their destroying power. How wonderful that the air we breathe, the water from which we derive so much of refreshment and essential service, should each be made up of elements that, in a separate state, are fatal to life! Oxygen, for example, if respired alone, is an over- powering stimulant, and an animal would quickly burn to death or be prostrated by asphyxia under its crushing influ- ence. Hydrogen is highly inflammable, and, if spread in a free state throughout nature, it would frequently explode with the disastrous violence now experienced only in the depths of mines. Nitrogen, which constitutes four-fifths of common air, cannot be breathed with impunity by any animal in its pure state. So of most of the elementary principles. If liberated from their affinities and " sent abroad into the world, like so many demons let loose, they would instantly bring destruc- tion upon the whole fabric."* With what matchless skill, * Dr. Prout. CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 225 with what parental care have they been mingled and com- bined so as not only to mutually tame their fierceness and disarm them of their destructive energy, but even to trans- form them into the most beneficent ministers of health and life ! Is it said that the Creator might have displayed his wisdom still more illustriously if these elements had been constituted without such noxious properties ? We answer, that we shall not deny that they might have been so consti- tuted, though to affirm it seems arrogating a wisdom not vouchsafed to man. But we may say that if these elements had been created innocuous, men would have wanted most impressive mementos, which they now have, of their own feebleness and insufficiency. We are now reminded, when- ever we look at the chemical constitution of nature, that we are encompassed by destroying angels ; that there are volcanic fires all around as well as beneath us ; that Infinite Wisdom, Power, and Goodness must have been needful to rear a peace- ful abode for man out of such stormy elements, and are still needed to preserve it ; and that our gratitude should be pro- portioned to our dependence. Did no fierce agent ever mani- fest itself, no poisonous exhalation ever break forth to show how all man's powers and thoughts can wither beneath its blighting touch, we should feel that this physical system was eternal ; that it contains within itself a guarantee for its sta- bility and perfection, and that no grateful thoughts nor earnest supplications need ascend to our Invisible Father and Pro- tector. We have now almost daily mementos of our frailty, — daily remembrances of the marvellous wisdom and power .with which, as if before our eyes, God is condescending to marshal and order these fiery elements, and how easy it would be for Him who holdeth the winds in his power to let loose such elements to destroy individuals, nations, or even a world. One can hardly help trembling when he considers on what an infinite number and variety of chemical adjustments the 15 226 THE THREE WITNESSES. welfare and existence of living beings depend, — adjustments between agents which are essentially distinct from, and inde- pendent of, each other, and whose mutual adaptation and con- gruity can be referred, therefore, to nothing but design. To appreciate, even in the slightest degree, the inexpressible im- portance of these adjustments and the Divine wisdom and goodness they manifest, take but one of them ; as, for exam- ple, the relation in nature between oxygen and hydrogen, both as to quantity and quality, and suppose that the relative pro- portions in which these bodies subsist in nature were reversed, and that hydrogen became as predominant as oxygen now is, or suppose that either underwent a material change of prop- erties, the quantity remaining the same. By reflecting, though for only a moment, on the consequences which would ensue, we shall find that disorder would be instantly spread through- out the material universe. Water, the air, the earth, metals, would all lose their peculiar value. The means of vegetation and of healthy respiration would be withdrawn. And so with a change in any of the leading adaptations that we observe by the aid of organic or inorganic chemistry. Everywhere we observe traces of a parental foresight which would make all things subservient to the welfare and enjoyment of sensi- tive creatures. Elements seem to have been constituted with reference to the most important compounds they were to form, such as Avater, air, and the like. These compounds, again, seem to have had antecedent reference to the plants and ani- mals which were to appear in due time and to derive their sustenance from them ; and thus all seem to form parts of one grand design that stretches from the beginning to the disso- lution of the great globe on which we dwell. All are parts in the all-comprehending and eventful physical drama now in progress, — a drama, every stage of which seems to afford evidence that it had its commencement in time, and that in time it is destined to have, in one sense, its end. We say in one sense; for in another Chemistry seems to be CHEMISTRY A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 227 the herald even of a physical, and, much more, of a mental, existence, that is to be eternal. Under the influence of affinity, chemical elements are constantly changing their relations, but their existence 7'einaiiis nntojicJied. Bodies decompose. If liv- ing, they die ; new bodies start up before us. But the simple substances of which these bodies are formed do not perish, — of them there is no new creation. Their quantities and quali- ties remain unchanged ; and hence, though the day come when the elements melt with fervent heat and the earth and all that is therein shall be burnt up, even that shall not necessarily be annihilation of matter, much less of soul. Weigh the vapor, the carbonic acid, and other gases, and the unconsumed par- ticles of fuel that escape from yonder grate while it burns five pounds of coal, and you find that their weight, added to that of the ashes left behind, will be just equal to the weight of the fuel burned. Nothing is destroyed ; old ties are broken, but new ones are formed ; your fuel disappears, but it gives out a gas which falls on the leaves and roots of plants, and becomes to them the very breath of life. The living plant comes forth from the decaying consuming wood ; and thus may a spiritual body come forth from the slumbering ashes of the terrestrial one, and new heavens and a new earth be formed from the elements that may remain after the conflagration of that ma- terial system in which we now dwell. And if even matter may be immortal, what shall we say of the soul? Simple material substances, so far as chemists can discover, never perish. May not that immaterial substance within, of which we cannot conceive, except as simple and indivisible, — may that not hope for as high a destiny? Death dissolves the organism, but not one of its minutest or meanest particles does it destroy. Shall we fear, then, that it can destroy the soul ? We can see matter bid defiance to the power of the King of Terrors ; the soul we can never see, — least of all when it has cast off all the gross organs through which it once made itself known to us ; but can we doubt that 228 TH^ THREE WITNESSES. its power of withstanding the assaults of its last and most inexorable enemy are at least as great as that of the material particles with which it has so long been clogged? When death lays the body low, its component parts have other offices to perform, — other spheres to fill ; and, though you retard, nothing shall finally arrest their appointed course. And may not the soul, too, expect to enter on other scenes and engage in other employments ? When we examine matter by the light of Chemistry, it seems plainly made for a round of dif- ferent affinities and combinations. When we examine mind, it seems not less plainly to be made for progress, — for direct and illimitable advancement in knowledge and in virtue. Matter, we know, fulfils its end. Is it likely that mind alone shall fail of its higher and nobler destiny ? BOOK II. ORGANIC NATURE. PHYSIOLOGY, ZOOLOGY, GEOLOGY, AND BOTANY. CHAPTER I. THE LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO THE DIVINE EXISTENCE. WE have already endeavored to show that the funda- mental principles of Physical Science, as unfolded by Mechanics and by Chemistry, illustrate the Divine Existence and perfections. We shall now attempt to perform the same office for the more central principles of Physiology and the related Sciences. Life, then, we propose to show, wherever we meet it, whether in plant or animal, points with clearness to a great First Cause, — to a living, spiritual, and mighty Creator. In this chapter we shall confine ourselves to certain prelim- inary views. Life points to a First Cause, because here, as in the inor- ganic world, second causes carry our minds back from step to step till they land us in what is called a First Cause, — i.e. one which is not to be resolved into anything natural. Hence, though we refer the vital changes which we observe in plants and animals to chemical or mechanical actions, or to both combined, we are led, as we do so, to ask whence proceed these actions called Mechanical or Chemical ? If they, too, can be resolved into some physical Cause or Law more gen- eral than themselves, still we are but advancing nearer and nearer to a point which must, of necessity, be reached at last, (229) 230 THE THREE WITNESSES. and which is generally reached soon, — the point where all physical sequences seem to end, since we can trace them no further. Yet there is still an effect to be referred to its Cause, or a fact to be resolved into some other fact more general and comprehensive ; and we must therefore consent to move for- ever in the same narrow circle, or we must do what reason requires us to have done at every link of the long chain of sequences we have traced, — at every fact which we have been resolving into some other fact more general. We must recog- nize our own ignorance and the utter insufficiency of every scientific explanation of phenomena which does not carry with it the clear recognition of this truth, that the primary object of Natural Science, in respect to events, is not to find their ultimate or efficient, but simply their proximate and general cause, — to ascertain their relation to each other, and the physical conditions under which they may be expected to recur. Recognizing this truth, we recognize at the same time that at every step, in a series of Natural Phenomena or Vital Ac- tions, there is something more than the natural — some power in which it rests — which made it what it is, and that this power is characterized by Intelligence and Personality. Any efficiency which can reside in second causes must be a derived and dependent efficiency, — one which not only came at first from the original of all power, but which is constantly fed and nourished from the same fountain. An Ambassador goes from his own country to represent it at a foreign court. He goes not merely to represent it, but also in some sense to en- joy and exercise there its proper sovereignty. Hence his country's flag floats over his hotel ; by a fiction of Law he is supposed to have carried his country with him, and his person, effects, and servants are all privileged from arrest by any foreign authority. Yet, with all his power, what is he, separated from the Principal, whose agent he is ? What would he be if his government and people were to perish ? His LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 23 1 prerogatives and powers would be abrogated in a moment. His official responsibility and authority would expire so soon as they ceased to receive fresh accessions of efficiency from the sovereign power that first bestowed them. And so it must be with every secondary cause ; so especially with every natural agent, whether in the organic or the inorganic world. Our minds instinctively revolt from the idea of attributing to such an agent any ultimate and independent efficiency of its own, in virtue of which it could exist and act, though other and higher powers in the universe were annihilated. We call attention distinctly to this truth, because it seems to meet two errors which are prevalent. The one is, that though we admit a Creator to originate the system, we do not need Him to uphold and carry it forward. It seems to be forgotten that if it require power to originate changes, so it requires power to bring them to their completion. If in the one case we need a Creator, in the other we need a Preserver and Governor. Every successive change, whether in the physical or physiological state of bodies, is as distinct a proof of the substantial agency of Him " in whom are all things, and by whom all things consist," as was the first phe- nomenon that called forth the admiration of higher intelli- gences on that day when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy. " Science is pious," says Quinet, " when she finds every- where a pcruianent miracle, and is thus enveloped on all sides by revelation^ It is not only the written word that teaches that God is He in whom all things subsist ; that even the fowls of the air and the lilies of the field are cared for and fed and clothed by Him ; that He numbers the hairs of our head, and notes a sparrow's fall to the ground, — true Philosophy, also, sends forth from her oracles the same lesson. She pro- claims, too, that it is when the Lord of All sendeth forth his winds from the cold North that our streams congeal, and the sweet influences of Pleiades are bound up ; and that when He 232 THE THREE WITNESSES. bloweth with his South wind, the icy chains arc melted and the waters again flow ; that it is when He breathes into man the breath of Hfe that man becomes a hving soul ; and that when he taketh away their breath, all living creatures die and return to their dust. There are second causes which operate, and operate, too, according to fixed laws. All is order, but it is the order of all-pervading and superintending mind, — not of fixed fate or of blind instinct. Another error which would disappear if this truth were more clearly appreciated, is the idea that if the phenomena of life in individuals, or the beginning of life in a species, were once resolved into the agency of mechanical and chemical laws, we should lose most important evidence for the Creator's Existence and personality. If there be no immaterial princi- ple of Life, nor spiritual principle of mind, what proof can we have (it may be asked) that God is a Living and Spiritual Creator, or that man is destined, soul and body, to the inherit- ance of another and retributory life ? We answer, that how- ever influential chemical and mechanical causes may be in originating life at first, or in transmitting it from parent to off- spring, or in carrying forward its functions in each individual plant or animal, these causes themselves are to be accounted for. This wondrous power of theirs, — the power of evolving life, with its functions of spontaneous motion and ceaseless change and assimilating force, with its round of birth and growth, of decline and death, — the power of evolving such phenomena from mere matter which is essentially inert, im- penetrable, and heavy, — here is a power which requires to be explained. If the existence of an immaterial principle called I>ife, as the proximate source of these phenomena, be strange, .tranger still, beyond measure, is the fact that, from sources merely material, results so foreign to all matter should be educed ; and if a God be needed to originate and sustain the one, is He not still more needed to bring about the other? Suppose, then, that the existence and functions of the young LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 233 plant or animal might all be resolved into the properties of the parent germ from which it sprang, with coexistent physi- cal agencies, such as light and heat, and that thus we can ascend from child to parent till we reach the beginning of the species ; and suppose we ascertain, moreover, that when those progenitors first started into existence, it was not through any- supernatural power, through any direct and creative effort of the Most High, but that certain portions of matter had the mysterious property of passing from the inorganic to the organic state, — of taking to themselves some specific form of plant or animal, and going through the cycle of its vital changes ; suppose, too, that in the processes of our own bodies we can discover no fact which may not be resolved into material causes, still, these causes are but finite and de- pendent powers. What have they that they did not receive? They cannot originate the energies with which they act, and it can be shown that those energies have not always been in play. There was a time, and it seems to have stretched itself through a mighty interval, when there was no life in the earth, though there was a great globe of matter in constant change. Whence did it happen, then, that all at once this dead matter put forth such strange power, and developed itself in such new forms ? Who gave to it not merely the power of spon- taneous generation, but the power also of reproducing or propagating itself in numberless successive individuals of the same species, so that there should be occasion but once in all time for that specific form of development, — that such develop- ment should thus stand forever by itself an isolated, solitary fact ? Here are motions, and motions, says Aristotle, carry our minds irrepressibly to a mover, and such motions, let us add, call for a mover of creative power to originate matter, — to endue it with the mysterious power of development which, after slumbering for ages on ages, could leap forth but once to its effect, and then retire — all other things continuing as they were — into its original quiescence. 234 THE THREE WITNESSES. When, then, the unbeliever or the Epicurean Philosopher strives to solve all the phenomena of life by means of physi cal causes alone, or when, on the discovery of some new law in the chemistry of life, he leaps at once to the conclusion that, in like manner, chemistry will in time be found sufficient to solve all the functions of organized and living beings, let him not persuade himself that he has escaped from evidence in behalf of Religion. He has relieved himself of one prob- lem only to have it replaced by another. There are still powers and properties to be explained, and they will be found to point, with steady finger, towards a First Cause at once personal and spiritual. Matter tells not of an Eternal and unvarying power like the soul of the world of the ancients, — a power which acts without forecast, choice, or self-conscious- ness. In its ultimate atoms, in its masses, and in its arrange- ments, it speaks of a free and personal Creator. Each one of its constituent molecules, as we have seen, has all the char- acteristics " of a manufactured article." The masses which form the primary and secondary planets of the Solar System, and the collocation and arrangement of those masses, are all characterized, on the one hand, by too much of uniformity to be consistent with chance ;* and, on the other hand, by too many deviations from the law of continuity! to be the result * La Place has shown, in respect to the well-known law that tlie motion of rotation of the satellites around their primaries is equal to the motion of revo- lution, that there are two thousand probabilities against, to one in favor of, its being fortuitous or the result of chance. f The densities of the planets do not follow any regular law, the sun being only one-fourth of that of the earth, — the densities of Venus, Earth, and Mars being nearly equal, while the density of Uranus is greater than that of Saturn, which is nearer the Sun. The motions of the Satellites of Uranus deviate in direction from the general rule, being from East to West ; and there is not such uniformity in the relative distances of the planets and of the satellites as a law of uniformity would require. So Sir I. Newton, in a letter to Bentely, states that there is no discoverable reason why the Sun, which is the centre of attrac- tion of the Solar System, should also be the centre of its light and heat. LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 235 of mere natural law or necessity. It will be seen, hereafter, that corresponding indications of a Sovereign will — an appoint ing and arranging power — abound throughout the world of or- ganized and living beings. He, then, who doubts or rejects the first truths of Religion, need not hope that he will escape all natural evidence in their behalf by taking refuge in the system of materialism; nor need he who hopes and believes in God fear, though it should be shown by the light of advancing Science that all the phenomena of life can be traced to the proxi- mate action of physical as distinguished from hyperphysical causes. But is this result likely? Is it probable that Science will demonstrate that what we call the vital power is only a name to denote a congeries of material changes and actions, and that Mechanics and Chemistry will be found sufficient, at last, to explain alike the origin of species and the vital or- ganic functions of individuals ? This question is worthy of consideration. It becomes us, both as friends of Science and as friends of Revelation, to inquire whether that which has been the prevailing belief of mankind for thousands of years, and which has been supposed to enjoy alike the sanction of Reason and of Scripture, is only a figment. We begin with tJie origin of species. Geology directs its mighty telescope into the distant depths of the past, just as Astronomy, with the aid of artificial glasses, penetrates into the remoter regions of space. Geology conducts us from one to another formation, which entombs the remains of extinct races of animals and plants until, at length, it reaches a line beyond which death never penetrated, because life had never been. There it seems to stand, at the confines which separate later geological periods during which organized and living beincfs existed on the earth, and those earlier times when all was silent and lifeless matter. It places us where we seem to hear a fiat going forth, — " Let there be life." Then appeared organized and living substances, — plants and animals; and 236 THE THREE WITNESSES. of these, class after class, from the invertebrate animals to the vertebrate, and from the vertebrate of the lower classes, such as fishes, up through reptiles and birds to mammalia and to man, who is the characteristic denizen as well as lord of the geological epoch in which we live. Did that fiat emanate from a mere material power or from one that was Supernatural ? Was this apparition of living beings on the earth the result of spontaneous generation, — of the concurrence of certain physical causes, — or was it the result of His volition, who speaks, and it is done, who commands, and it stands fast? They who advocate spontaneous genera- tion, such as Lamarck, Maillet, Geoffroy St.-Hiiaire, have their merit as physiologists, but over against their authority we can place names still more illustrious. Cuvier, the brightest light of his age in this department of Science, declared, after a la- borious exploration of the fossil remains of the globe, that he could find nowhere on those petrified records any trace of a generation so curious. Such is the testimony of the latest and ablest of those who have devoted themselves to the study of Palaeontology;* and their testimony seems to be conclusive, since it is next to impossible to conceive that a transition of matter, from the inorganic to the organized and living state, had it taken place spontaneously and gradually, should not have been arrested by petrifaction at all its different stages, and thus have furnished us with specimens of monstrous mal- formation in every species. But no such specimens have been discovered. Nothing is abnormal : " Every organic part is finished, every animal complete, — the first of his race as complete as its offspring of the present day." To the testi- mony of Cuvier, we may add the testimony of an eminent naturalist (Agassiz), who has adopted the United States of * See Mr. Lyell's first four chapters in his "Principles of Geology;" De La Beche's Geologic.il Researches, p. 239 ; and also Buckland, Conybeare, Sedg- wick, Philips, and Owen. LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 237 North America as his home. Both in his report on the fossil fishes of the Devonian, or old Red Sandstone formation, read before the British Association for the Advancement of Science, and in his great work on Fossil Fishes, he bears distinct testi- mony to the supernatural origin of animals and plants. In the former of these works, he says,* "It is a truth, which I consider now as proved, that the ensemble of organized beings was renewed not only in the interval of the great geological divisions which we have agreed to term formations, but also at the time of the deposition of each particular member of all the formations." In the latter work,t after rejecting the scheme of natural development, he affirms, " It is necessary that we recur to a cause more exalted, and recognize influences more powerful, exercising over all nature an action more direct, if we would not move eternally in a vicious circle. For myself, I have the conviction that species have been created succes- sively at distinct intervals, and that the changes which they have undergone during a geological epoch are very secondary, relating only to their fecundity and to migrations, dependent on epochal influences." But if Geology shows that there are no traces of sponta- neous generation in the distant past. Zoology and Physiology demonstrate that there are none but the slenderest tokens of its existence now. One after another case, of what was once regarded as a specimen of this equivocal generation, has dis- appeared before the searching scrutiny of Science, and has thus prepared us to expect that a similar fate awaits others not yet explained. Some years since, Lamarck and his as- sociates appealed, with an air of exultation, to the smallest species of Infusoria or microscopic animals (such as monads) as examples of the " natural development of a particle to a mammal, at that point of the process where the organism * Twelfth Report of the British Association, p. 85. t Poissons Fossiles — towards the close. 238 THE THREE WITNESSES. stands between the vegetable and animal worlds. It was sup- posed that these little beings consisted of a homogeneous substance, that they had neither mouth nor digestive organ, and were nourished only by means of absorption through the external surface of the body. But Ehrenbcrg has subjected them to the action of his powerful microscope, having first supplied them with organic coloring matter as nutriment, and he finds that they are highly organized, having a mouth and organs of digestion and reproduction, and oftentimes also a muscular system."* Is it not likely that a similar discovery awaits on other facts, which are still relied on as supporting the theory of spontaneous generation? For instance, the Acari Crossii, the minute animal and plantlike forms which have been de- veloped by Mr. Cross under the action of a powerful electric battery, is it not to be presumed that they, if real organic structures, will be brought within the ordinary law ? With whatever care his apparatus is prepared, in order to exclude the presence of all ova or pre-existent germs of animalcules, those germs might still be there. The animal itself— much more its ovum — is exceedingly minute, and it may, like the flour-eel and the wheel-animalcule, be so tenacious of life that none of the means employed to extirpate it have been sufficient. Those last have been subjected for twenty-eight days to a heat of 248° Fahrenheit, — where there was no air and where they were acted upon constantly by the chloride of calcium and sulphuric acid, — and yet, after all, have been resuscitated. It deserves remark, too, that the creatures, said to be de- veloped solely by means of physical action, start into life full grown (conferva; or infusoria), instead of appearing, accord- ing to the principles of regular and continuous progression, in their embryo state. They appear, too, when developed, to have been filled with eggs, which would seem conclusive of * Harris's Preadamile Earth, p. 285. LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 239 the fact that they have been derived from other individuals of the same species. If we are referred to the parasitic animals that live in the interior of other animals, as specimens of spontaneous gen- eration, we should remember that their ova can penetrate wherever food or air can pass, and that so long as pins and needles work their way from the surface far into the in- terior of animal bodies, we need not wonder that the germs of beings so minute as these should be able, by some means, to accomplish a like end. We esteem ourselves justified, then, in dismissing the Hypothesis of spontaneous generation or nat- ural development from among the probable causes of the first origin of the different species of plants and animals. Dis- missing it, however, we have hardly an alternative but to turn to the creative energy of Him who is great in power and mighty in operation. Says Mr. Owen (perhaps the very best judge of such questions now living, and who well merits the title of the Cuvier of England and of our day), " Of the intro- duction of netv species, we know no natural cause, and can hardly form a conception of sucJi!''^ We turn to the vital processes, as seen in a living plant or animal. Can they be resolved into laws merely physical, into the action of chemical and mechanical causes ? Such has been the opinion of some physiologists for the last three hun- dred years. Has the progress of Science within that time — the discoveries in physiology, inorganic chemistry, and in the anatomy of animals and men — contributed to strengthen or to weaken such physical theories of life ? Is it more or less probable than it once was that life is destined to be abrogated from among the primary objects of human thought, and to take its place among those secondary principles, which can be easily resolved into the action of attraction and repulsion ? Certain it is, that when one cause is sufficient to account for * Art. Physiology, Brande's Encyclopaedia. 240 THE THREE WITNESSES. given phenomena, it is unphilosophical to assume the exist- ence of others. If, therefore, chemistry and mechanics are competent to the explanation of vital functions, all other solu- tions that presuppose principles not mechanical or chemical must be gratuitous, and therefore inadmissible. What, then, is the fact ? Take the principal functions of life, such as circulation and assimilation, or its principal pro- ducts, the so-called "proximate elements^' such as fibrin, albu- men, and gelatine, in animal bodies, sugar, starch, resin, in vegetables. Can these be accounted for on Mechanical or Chemical Principles ? We answer by appealing to facts and to the authority of some of the most eminent physiolo- gists. I. Mr. Owen, speaking of the circulation of the blood in ani- mals, asks, What is the cause or condition of the reaction of the fibres of the hollow muscle (the heart) upon the stimu- lating fluid (the blood) ? And again, speaking of the func- tions of nutrition and excretio7i, he asks, " How does each tissue of the body select from the currents of blood flowing through the terminal capillaries, the appropriate particles for its growth or reparation, and in return add to the blood, either directly or through the medium of lymphatic vessels, its effete particles?" "These," he says, "are questions which Physi- ology has yet to resolve:" and, therefore, we may be sure that they have not been resolved by Chemistry or Mechanical Phi- losophy. In other words, there is no cause or condition known either to Physics or to Physiology which can explain these phe- nomena. So Baussingault, one of the most eminent organic and agricultural chemists of the age, says, when speaking of the circulation of the sap in vegetables, "We are still ignorant of the cause of the ascent of liquids in vegetables, which car- ries them to the remotest leaves, in spite, as it were, of the laws of hydrostatics. Porosity, in the spongioles of the roots, will account for moisture being imbibed ; but neither it nor any chemical modification effected by the spongioles upon LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 241 the fluid imbibed, will give the least explanation."* And to the same effect is the testimony, in respect to organic func- tions, of Carpenter, our latest and most popular writer on Physiology : " The conversion of chyle into blood, and of blood into fibre, the nutrition of plants, the formation of sap, and the change of sap into vegetable fibre, gum, bark, flowers, etc. cannot be resolved into physical laws." " Blood and sap, unless endowed with vital properties, would be totally inert." II. Here, then, we have the incompetency of any purely physical or material hypothesis in respect to the nature and origin of life, distinctly proclaimed, and proclaimed by the highest human authority. But that incompetency is manifest, not merely in explaining i\\e fienctioiis of life, it is equally mani- fest in attempting to explain the products of vital action. Take what are called organized substances (a plant or animal), or take their proximate elements, which are also organic, and compare them with those of inorganic substances ; make the comparison by the aid of Chemistry alone : (i) In the one class (organic) you have only eighteen out of the sixty-two simple bodies known to chemistry, and of these eighteen but four play any prominent part (oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, and carbon). In the other class (inorganic), all the simple bodies or elements are put in requisition. (2) In organic bodies the simple bodies combine in pairs, or triads, or even in a qua- ternary manner ; in inorganic bodies they combine, in the first instance, only on the binary principle, — that is, in pairs. (3) The combination of these elements does not follow the arithmetical ratio in organic, as it always does in inorganic, bodies. (4) Organic compounds are unstable, evincing a much greater tendency to decomposition than inorganic substances. (5) When decomposed by analysis, organic bodies cannot be regenerated by synthesis, as inorganic ones can. (6) The * Boussingault's Rural Economy. 16 242 THE THREE WITNESSES. manner in which organic products are elaborated is one which, to use the language of an eminent philosopher, "we do not understand, and cannot imitate." Here, then, are six marked peculiarities in organic substances which are perfectly inex- plicable and anomalous, if those substances are acted upon only by physical forces. And so with the ;;/tr/!f?///r<7/ properties of organized tissues. While living a muscle supports a greater weight, or is capa- ble of bearing much greater tension, than when dead. The parts of the living frame {e.g. joints), by moving on each other, do not suffer a loss of matter through attrition or friction, as is the case with the parts of a machine. On the contrary, a joint kept duly in motion is both larger and more healthy than when left to entire rest or inaction. Who can reflect on facts like these, which might be multiplied to almost any ex- tent, and yet not conclude that there is about the functions and products of organized and living beings something hy- perphysical, — that which is higher than mere matter; some power pre-existent to the organs, since it builds them up, and is, in fact, the organizing principle ; something which must be more than chemical, since it combines elements in a man- ner which puts mere chemistry at defiance, — which must be more than mechanical, since it often works as the antagonist of mechanical forces ; a power which co-operates with mate- rial properties, but as their master, not their servant, — co-ope- rates with physical laws, but at the .same time subordinates, directs, and, at times, nullifies them ; a power which, in short, is more than matter and less than mind? We say /r.yi- than mind, because there is often life where there is no mind, as in vegetables ; and again, because in the germs of animals there is life, but no brain ; and where there is no brain mind is not found. III. The same conclusion is forced upon us, when we con- trast inorganic mid organic substances, in respect to their ob- vious characteristics. We say contrast, for any attempt at LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 243 comparison will show that the points of difference are more numerous than the points of resemblance. Take, for instance, a mineral and a plant, and that the comparison may give every advantage to the former, let that mineral be crystalline, hav- ing, like flowers and plants, a symmetrical form. In what particular are they alike? Both are composed of matter; but in the mineral the particles are aggregated or combined chemically, in the plant they are assimilated. If addition is made to the mineral, it is made at the exterior surface ; if to the plant, it is by being absorbed into the interior, and there transformed and vitalized. The constituent particles of the crystal remain at rest, those of the plant are in almost cease- less motion, so that a living organized being is represented by Cuvier as a whirlpool. The crystal had its immediate origin in certain mechanical and chemical properties of matter, — the plant had its immediate origin in the subjective energy of its parent germ, excited to action by favoring external causes. The one owes its existence to external agents, and through them alone can perish. The other has an internal principle of life, in virtue of which it must grow spontaneously, attain maturity, spontaneously decline, and die. The crystal has but few relations to other bodies and substances. The plant is most intimately related to light, to air, to moisture, to the soil on which it grows, and to the vicissitudes of the seasons. In the one we can see the results of physical forces, and of them alone ; in the other we can see that the whole life of plants " consists of a conflict between chemical forces and the vital powers. In the normal state of an organized body these are in equilibrium. Every mechanical or chemical agency which disturbs this equilibrium is a cause of disease. Disease occurs when the resistance offered by the vital force is weaker than the acting cause of disturbance. Death is that condition in which chemical or mechanical powers gain the ascendency and all resistance on the part of the vital force ceases."* * Liebig. 2AA THE THREE WITNESSES. Are we not warranted, then, in concluding that Life is hyperphysical ? As electricity, magnetism, and light are subtle agents, which can pass from one body to another, and are not inseparable properties of any material particle, so here is an agent still more subtle, which in its operation employs light and electicity, and is modified by them, but is still inde- pendent of both, and often paramount. On the other hand, we are not to suppose that the cause of these phenomena is physical or mental, since they are observed in vegetables, in a segment of a polyp, and are present in every living germ. It is an immaterial and essentially living power, having no inherent and independent efficiency of its own, but re- ferring us for all its efficiency to a Self-Subsisting First Cause. As immaterial, it indicates that its parent cause may not be less, — as living, it proclaims that its origin is from a living and conscious Creator, — as ever active, by night and by day, it points to that Creator as one who fainteth not, neither is weary. And this conclusion, be it remembered, in respect to the Divine Character, would be hardly less strong, though we should admit that Life is but the resultant effect of certain chemical and mechanical causes, for none but a spiritual and ever-living Creator could evolve, through successive years and ages, immaterial and hyperph3^sical effects from physical causes. Indeed, our consciousness, as well as our experience, constrain us to look for the primary cause and ultimate ground of all regular and orderly changes, such as those which pre- vail in organized beings, to the free volition of a self-existent and immaterial mind. " Our hearts are awed within us when we think Of the great miracle that still goes on In silence round us, — the perpetual work Of his creation, finished, yet renewed Fore%'er. Written on his works wc read The lesson of his own Eternity. Lo, all grow old and die ! but see again LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. How on the faltering footsteps of decay Youth passes — ever gay and beautiful youth — In all its beautiful forms. Life mocks the idle hate Of his arch-enemy, Death. That delicate forest flower, With scented breath and look so like a smile. Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, An emanation of the indwelling Life, A visible token of the upholding Love, That are the soul of this wide universe." 245 CHAPTER II. THE LIFE- POWER IN NATURE ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. IT was the object of the last chapter to show how Life, as manifested in organized bodies (plants and animals), indi- cates a Great First Cause. We proceed now to set forth, in the light of General Physi- ology, the perfections of the Creator, — and I. His Power. When we would unfold the greatness of the Creator's Power, we usually resort to Astronomy. We go to the vast spaces which He has peopled with planetary and central orbs. We ascend in thought from system to system, stretching one above and beyond another, until we gain a point so distant that the interval seems to confound our conceptions; and then we think of the mighty masses which He has thus poised on empty nothing, — of those suns and systems, ever occupying their appointed places, and wheeling their courses, unshaken, through the void immense. And these, doubtless, are sublime and impressive views ; but we are by no means sure that the operations of Life do not afford views quite as impressive ; and even if they be deemed less impressive, we are strongly inclined to think that they will prove to be even more in keeping with the true character of God and more propitious to our best welfare. It should never be forgotten that the Power of God is some- thing more than mere force, — mere physical potency. The Creator and Upholder of all things is not merely a great Me- chanician or Engineer, — a Being whose highest power is manifested in feats of more than Herculean or gigantic strength, in uprearing vast masses of matter or overcoming (246) LIFE-POWER ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. 247 great physical resistance. God is a Spirit, — an intelligent, forecasting, moral Being, who deals not only with matter, but with mind, and who aims to render both significant of glory and beauty, and both subservient to our good. The power of such a Being is evinced in overcoming mental and moral, as well as physical, difficulties ; in the multitudinous objects and relations which he keeps ever in view ; in the complicated and various creations of his mind and will ; in the dignity of the results attained. Is there not power displayed in organ- izing a living, breathing, sentient being, though it be as small as the smallest animalcule, — a being who has matter and mat- ter perfectly arranged and disposed, but who has also some- thing higher than matter; who has life, and perhaps feeling; who is endowed with an inward, subjective power, which organizes its constituent particles, transforms them from dead matter to living substance and carries them forward in a round of changes more complicated and more curious than any which transpire in the observed motions of the heavens? In conceiving of God we should beware of views too an- tJiropoviorpliical, — views that liken Him too much to frail and finite man. Because zve can take in greater spaces with our eye more quickly and readily than exceedingly small ones, it by no means follows that such is the case with God. Because to us it would be difficult to raise great weights, or project them far into space, or impress upon them any perpetual mo- tion, is it therefore difficult to One who is almighty ? Be- cause our minds stagger and are confounded when we think of the immeasurable distance of some of the fixed stars and of the Hosts — countless to us — which He has marshalled in the sky, " calling them all by their names," is it thus with Him whose greatness is unsearchable, whose power is past finding out? To a Being truly Infinite, boundless in his presence, and in his pervading energy, great and small, heavy and light can be of no account in acting. As with Him, a thousand years are as one day, and one day as a thousand 248 THE THREE WITNESSES. years, — so with Him, a thousand miles, a thousand leagues, a thousand millions of miles must be as one mile, as one foot, as one inch, as one-tenth, or one-thousandth of an inch, — that is, it must be as easy for such a Being to work within the compass of one of these spaces as of the other, and as easy for Him to employ and unfold there all his Omnipotence, Dcinn scjiipitemum, said Linnaeus, when he had been study- ing the wonders of microscopic life. Deum scmpitcrnuvi ct oniniscinni ct ovDiipotcnteDi a tergo U'ansiejitem vidi ct ob- stupiii. It is the language of high philosophy as well as of lowly piet\-. No being so small that he is not a mirror large enough to reflect the wisdom and power of Him that made it. No space so vast that it cannot be filled, and more than filled, with the immensity of the Creator's handiwork. But if, in our conceptions of God, we are too much disposed to liken Him to men, by limiting and circumscribing his Power, we are sometimes prone to degrade Him even below man, to employ principles, in estimating his character or works, which we should refuse to apply to man, whose strength is weakness, and who hastencth to decay. Con- ceptions which were borrowed from man and transferred to God in the infancy of society, when physical strength and prowess constituted the highest distinction, such conceptions often remain attached to the Divine Character after we have withdrawn them from his erring creatures. How is it when we look at our fellow-men, especially at those who occupy the high places of the world ? Do we measure their power by the masses they can lift, or the distance through which they can project them ? Take him who in some respects makes the nearest approach to creative efforts, and who is therefore called the Poet or Maker. Do we estimate his Power by the length of the ICpic Poem he writes, or by the extent of territory over which he carries us in imagination ? Or the Painter, do we admire his Power in proportion to the square feet of canvas which he has contrived to cover? Or LIFE-POWER ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. 249 the great Sculptor, who can make the marble breathe, and embody tales of heart-thrilling interest, do we appreciate him by the number of cubic yards of stone which he has hewn into shape ? When he takes a shapeless mass, and proposes to extract from it the speaking form, he employs a coarser hand and a stronger arm to cleave off the superfluous ma- terial. His own power and mastery is to be employed in drawing the finer lines, in rounding and delineating a muscle, in developing and elaborating a vein or artery. Think not, then, that we do justice to God when we represent Him as delighting most in vast distances, or in attaining to merely huge or ponderous results. Within the compass of a dew- drop, where we find millions of living and rejoicing beings, God may have displayed a power which the astronomer cannot find, with his far-reaching tube, in all the heavens ; for nowhere there, with telescope of mightiest range, has he yet discovered one living being, — one being organized and en- dowed with the mysterious and wonder-working power of life, — one being that is born and lives, and desires and fears, pursues and is pursued, and at length dies, thus enacting a history of deeper and more incomprehensible interest than was ever celebrated by the music of the spheres. Says an able writer, " Science is Christian when, in the in- finitely small, she discerns as many mysteries, as many abysses, as much power as in the infinitely great." The remark is just. Christianity is a religion of condescension. It minds not high things. When Christ came to earth He courted not the so- ciety of the great or powerful. Meek and lowly, his delight was to bend his ear to the prayer of the poor destitute. He carried the lambs in his arms. He taught that, if men would become great, even the greatest in his Kingdom, they must become as little children. He taught that there is more joy in heaven, among its angels, over one sinner repenting, than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance. And when we turn to microscopic life,— to beings so amazingly 250 THE THREE WITNESSES. minute that it requires glasses magnif}'ing forty thousand times to bring them into view, where we find many of them highly organized, with complicated structures and manifold functions, and remember that each of these tiny beings came from the Creator's hand, and is upheld by his Power, and fulfils beneath his Providential eye its appointed office in the system of the universe, we read therein God's care for the lowly, — assurance that redemption is no strange fact. These little and dependent beings seem to come before us as types of Him who, though He was rich, yet for our sakes became poor ; of Him who, though He thought it not robbery to be equal with God, yet willingly humbled Himself and took on Him a servant's form, and became obedient to a worse than servant's death, that man might live. Does the scoffer sneer at the thought that the God of Immensity, whom the Heaven of Heavens cannot contain ; who rules over myriads on myriads of worlds which He has framed and on which He has planted, perhaps, a boundless multitude of his creatures, — does he stumble at the doctrine of Christ and Him crucified, — at the idea that such a Being could turn aside from his teeming worlds and their busy population to concentrate his regards upon a planet so insignificant as this ; and not only to regard it, but to love it with a surpassing love, — such love that He gave his only be- gotten Son, that they who believe in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life? Let him study the frame of yonder animalcule. It shall rebuke this unbelieving spirit. It shall proclaim the true character of Him with whom we have to do. He despises not the day or place of small things; for the High and Lofty One, though He inhabitcth eternity, dwells in the high and holy place with him also that is of a contrite and liuviblc spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. There is another moral and religious use of Life as mani- fested in its minutest forms. It shuts us up towards a more ji/'/;7/'//^/ tone of thinking, — towards faith in the invisible Txnd LIFE-POWER ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. 251 supersensiial. In respect to whatever lies beyond the cogni- zance of sense, we are prone now to skepticism, now to super- stition. Let us descend, by the aid of the microscope, to one and another rank of organized beings, receding farther and farther from magnitudes visible to our eyes, or appreciable by our intellects, and at every step the partition wall between the material and the immaterial seems to grow thinner. We are thus prepared for transition to a world where matter is not, and where spirit-forms, imperceptible to mortal sense, throng about us. Time was when all the countless multitudes of mi- croscopic forms that now animate the waters ajid float on every breeze, were to man as though they had no being. They were working for him in many ways : supplying food for the fish on which he fed;* purifying, as well as animating the water he drank ; removing from the air he breathed the taint, perhaps, of many a pestilence. Other forms there were, per- chance, which, penetrating to his lungs or viscera, became the sources of disease and death. Here, then, were innumerable ministers of good or ill about him wherever he went, ever busy for his weal or woe, of whom for ages he knew not, thought not, — of whom he thinks but little now, because they do not press upon his grosser senses. Should not this fact suggest to us how much like truth are the revelations of Scripture in respect to the good and bad angels that are repre- sented as abroad among men, — the legions of spirits that fly as God's ministers of mercy to his heirs of salvation, or as the devil's emissaries in the work of death to souls ? " Think not, though man were not, That Heaven would want spectators, God want praise; Millions of spiritual beings walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep." * " The common scallops, as well as other mollusks, often contain thousands of shells, which, being siliceous, have resisted the process of digestion. A glass slide, mounted with a few particles of the undigested contents of the stomach of a scallop, presents an assemblage of infusorial shells, apparently identical with those forming the Richmond earth." — Mantell on Animalades, p. 103. 252 THE THREE WITNESSES. With these remarks we are prepared to trace the indica- tions of Divine Power which can be discerned in the con- stitution and phenomena of living creatures. Power reveals itself through — i. The multiplicity of its creations. 2. Through the principles on ivhich its tvorks are cofistructed. 3. Through their pozaer to outlive the vicissitudes of time, and to withstand the various causes of decay. 4. In the case of a being who ex- erts physical as well as spiritual strength, we should measure his pozver by the mechanical, chemical, and other forces which he subjugates and employs. These are the tests by which we should try the productions of a great author or a great artist, or the achievements of a great general, statesman, mechanician, or philanthropist. The second of them being the /;7';/(r//'/d' on which living beings are constituted, we shall postpone until we come to consider the Wisdom of the Creator, so that the re- mainder of this chapter will be occupied with considering — I. The multiplicity of living creatures as so many signs of their Creator's power. 2, Their poiver to oiitlive clianges and with- stand the assaidts of physical foes. 3. The intensity of their physical energies. I. The multiplicity of living creatures (animal and vegeta- ble).— We shall gain a clearer conception of the Power mani- fested through this multiplicity if we consider — {a) creatures now alive ; (Ji) those that might now live; and {c) those that have lived. (a) The multiplicity of animals and vegetables noiv alive. It may seem presumptuous and absurd to attempt any sketch of this. A few illustrations only we shall venture upon, and with a deep sense of their feebleness and insufficiency. Of all the different and independent species of plants and animals now living, no attempt has been made to number the com- ponent individuals of any one of them, except the species man. In civilized countries, a careful census is, from time to time, taken of the inhabitants; in countries imperfectly civilized, and in barbarous lands, estimates more or less careful and LIFE-POWER ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. 253 correct have been made, and the result is the conclusion that the whole number of human beings on the globe does not differ essentially from one thousand million. This number is easily enunciated ; it is easily obtained by the addition of its parts; but how hardly is it apprehended by the mind with clearness and distinctness! One hundred thousand — the number of inhabitants in the city (Boston) where we write — is a great number. Were they all abroad in the neighboring fields, — spread out upon a mountain-side, ranged in regular files, and ranks, — what a mighty host would they appear! Yet, if we separate the individuals in succession from the rest of that host, they would, one by one, only serve to represent the various species of plants now known to Botanists. Accord- ing to De Candolle, the number of living species is from one hundred and ten thousand to one hundred and twenty thou- sand, and in each one of these species, whether annual or per- ennial, the individuals must be numberless. Again, if we increase tenfold this hundred thousand, so that we get a million, the individuals of this million will barely represent as many different and independent species of animals, aquatic and terrestrial, which exist on the globe, over and above microscopic animalcules. But who shall attempt the census of any one of these species ? It has been com- puted that there are fifteen millions of buffaloes still roaming over the Western Prairies of North America, a number al- most equal to the human population of England ; and yet they are but the remnant spared by the unrelenting progress of civilized man, and the incessant warfare waged against them alike by the red and white huntsman. What are buf- faloes, however, to the number of many inferior quadrupeds which swarm everywhere, — such, for instance, as those pests of our houses, barns, and fields, — mice and rats ? Mr. Lyell* supposes that all existing mammalia, whether living on land * Principles of Geology, vol. iii. p. 91. 254 THE THREE WITNESSES. or water, — i.e. all animals that suckle their young, — constitute less than one-thousandth part of the whole number of all classes. His conjectures would have been, perhaps, nearer the truth if he had said one-ten-thousandth part; for it is worthy of remark that as we descend in the animal kingdom, from those of greater to those of smaller size, the species gen- erally grow more prolific, and the numbers alive at any time increase, so that numbers supply the place of strength. According to Walch, a single species even of the smallest in- sect can commit, when required, more ravages than the ele- phant. Clouds of such insects, of different kinds, — some so minute that we can hardly see an individual, — often form bands, which a man could no more number than he could number the sands on the seashore, and which lay waste the fields of the husbandman in a manner the most fearful. If from dry land we go to the waters, fresh and salt, we find them swarming everywhere with living forms. " The great and wide sea, also, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts." This description from the Sa- cred Volume is true to the letter. Fish are found much below the depth of a thousand feet. They occupy a surface more than twice as great as that occupied by terrestrial ani- mals. We know, too, that the bottom of the sea, to immense depths, its rocks and reefs, its tide-washed shores, are every- where covered with molluscous, crustaceous, and testaceous animals, — with corals, sponges, and echini. And if we pass into the region of microscopic life, which is just now being explored with great enthusiasm, what va- rieties of forms, what inconceivable numbers, break upon our view ! The spray that flashes at night with phosphoric bril- liancy before the prows of our vessels at sea, owes its luminous coruscations to myriads of animalcules — the ocean firefly — that people every drop of sea-water. In the tropics, for leagues the ocean seems of a red, rosy hue, owing to the presence of other infusoria. In polar regions a red dust has been found LIFE-POWER ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. 555 sprinkled for considerable distances over the surface of snow- fields, all made up of microscopic animals. The polyp alone is supposed by naturalists to be stronger in individuals, than insects which contain one hundred thousand different species, and each species equal, perhaps, to the human population of the globe a million of times told. You have but to take up anywhere one or two drops of water, and you find it peopled, not only with many different individuals, but with many sep- arate species. It is computed that eighty millions of these animalcules could live in a single drop of water, and yet each of these myriads came forth from the hand of God. He hath set members in their bodies as it hath pleased Him. They all wait on Him, and He giveth them their meat in due season. {Ji) Yet these are but parts of his ways. We get a most inadequate conception of Divine power as manifested in the multiplication of living creatures, if we do not look beyond tJie actual to the potential energy of the vital force, — beyond the multiplication which it does occasion to that which it might occasion under other circumstances ; or, in other words, to know what God can do through the agency of life, we must consider not only the beings that do live, but those that might live. A great Botanist, Mirbel,* when speaking of the deso- lation of winter, as if life were extinct, says, " Such is the prodigal fertility of nature that a surface one thousand times the extent of our whole globe would not suffice for the seed- harvest of a single year, provided the whole was suffered to reappear." This estimate will hardly be thought extravagant, if we consider for a moment the almost boundless fecundity of vegetable life. One thistle produces sixteen thousand seeds, and one poppy-seed has been known to produce thiity-two thousand seeds ; and these are not among the most prolific. Of the seeds that disappear, many perish, doubtless, in the * See paper by him in Brande's Journal, vol. iv. 256 THE THREE WITNESSES. severity of winter ; many are consumed by animals, and many become buried in the earth, where they He dormant till favor- ing physical circumstances shall rouse their energies. To whatever depth we excavate the earth for wells or houses, the soil thrown up is generally charged with living seeds, which soon germinate and start forth into vigorous plants. That the earth is thus teeming with the vital power of vegetable germs, ready to burst forth and equal to the exertion (if it were all liberated suddenly and simultaneously) of volcanic force, will be apparent to any who has noticed with what difficulty the gardener or husbandman keeps down the weeds which spring spontaneously from seed of Nature's planting, and which, but for the warfare he wages, would soon stifle all his hopes of harvest. Indeed, much of the agency of the husbandman consists in substituting one form of life for another, and often its less prolific forms for those more prolific. And then con- sider what destruction there is of the seed that man raises by laborious effort. In the cereal plants, for example, which include all our grains as" well as grasses, but a small propor tion of the seed-harvest of any year is allowed to return to the earth. The reaper is careful to put in his sickle before the time has come for the seed to fall. That seed gives to the grasses their principal value as food for cattle, and to the grains their only value as food for man. What forms the staff of life to nine-tenths of the human family, but the surplus seed of annual plants remaining over and above what is needed to replace the harvest of the preceding year ? As with plants, so with animals ; the fecundity of many species is marvellous. One flesh-fly will produce twenty thousand at a birth. One house-fly will give birth to twenty million in thccourseof ayear. Of the aphides, or plant-lice, one will (according to Reaumur), in five generations, become the progenitor of nearly six billions of descendants ; and it is sup- posed that in one year there may be twenty generations. The loe of the cod and the flounder has been found to contain, in LIFE-POWER ILLUSTRATIVE OF DIVINE POWER. 257 some instances, more than a million ova. We are not, then, to wonder at the desolations which have been effected by the combined agency of the most insignificant insects. The aphides have, on two separate occasions, destroyed the hop crop of Great Britain. We all know how the locust has converted fruitful fields into a desert waste ; and every year we hear of the ravages which the weavel, or some other in- sect, has committed on the fruits of the earth, causing man — its lord — to tremble in fear of famine. " Is any plant or ani- mal likely," says Lyell, " to monopolize a place or dead body to taint the air, a scanty number of minute individuals (in- sects), only to be detected by a careful research, are ready (such is the power of suddenly multiplying their numbers) to give birth to myriads, which will operate as quick destroyers. But no sooner has the destroying commission been executed than the gigantic power becomes dormant ; each of the mighty host soon reaches the term of its transient existence, and the season arrives when the whole species passes naturally into the &innaeus thinks), in one instance, from America to Europe (Canadensis Erigeron). Water is also unceasingly active in this work. Many seeds have water-tight capsules, and it is said that the cocoanut has floated from the West Indies to Norway. Every flowing river and running brook goes freighted, at certain seasons, with these depositaries of life. So it is with descend- ing rain, which is useful in carrying seed into crevices of the earth. But, perhaps, more important than all is the agency of animals and men. The seeds of more than fifty genera of clover, goose-grass, etc. are armed with small hooks, by which they lay hold of the fleeces of sheep, the hair of other ani- 312 THE THREE WITNESSES. mals, the clothes of men, and are thus transported far from the parent plant. The stomach of animals supplies a vehicle for still greater numbers. Manure a field with animal dung, and an immense harvest of grasses and weeds springs up Seeds, again, are surrounded with fruit, or they are themselves fitted to be the aliment of birds and mammalia, that thus they may gain a lodgment where the means of transportation are never wanting. At one time the Dutch, in order to secure a monopoly of the trade in nutmegs, extirpated that plant from several of their islands in the East Indies ; but these islands were soon restocked, through the agency of birds. In their annual migrations towards the North and South, these ani- mals become, in the countries they traverse, the agents of a most extensive intermixture of seeds that belong to tropical, temperate, and frigid regions ; and probably nothing but a change of climate is necessary, in our own latitude, to cover our fields with a tropical or arctic vegetation. {c) Still more impressive are the provisions for sustaining vegetable life, which are found in the reciprocal agency of separate plants. The higher plants employ those of ruder structure, as pioneers to prepare the soil for their support. Thus, lichens take root on the surface of rocks, abstracting nutriment from the surrounding air, and depositing it as soil by their decay until, at length, mosses take their place, and carry forward the slow but sure process till the appointed time, when they, in their turn, retire and make way for shrubs and trees. On sandy beaches, where not even the lichen could get footing, some of the grasses with turfy roots con- trive to gain a lodgment and spread till they cover what was before a drifting surface with a rude vegetation ; and this last is soon succeeded by superior plants. At the bottom of lakes and ponds, aquatic plants, by their alternate growth and decay, deposit layer after layer of soil until the water is drained off. Large marshes, such as the Hyrcinian forest, have been filled up by the agency of the gray moss, and desert wastes have LIFE-POWER A WITNESS FOR DIVINE WISDOM. 313 been transformed into fruitful fields simply through the instru- mentality of xvecds. " The veriest weeds," says Dr. Darling- ton, " may be the instruments of a wise Providence for collect- ing fertilizing principles from every falling shower or passing breeze, and imparting them in turn to the soil, in which they are finally decomposed." "All the plants of a given country," says De Candolle, "are at war with one another." There is a struggle for its exclu- sive possession between the earlier and later comers ; between the more hardy or lasting and those less so ; between those more prolific and those whose species multiply slowly. The result maybe that one class monopolize the ground, but their \nctory is only for a season. Gradually they abstract from the soil those elements most essential to their own support, while they at the same time enrich it for plants of another family. Hence the rotation of trees which we observe on cutting off timber. The forest of oaks is replaced, perhaps, by a forest of pines. Man's convertible husbandry is but an humble imitation of his Creator. (d) But not only is there a mutual adaptation between dif- ferent tribes of plants : there is adaptation not less striking betzveen plants and animals. Some plants are indebted to ani- mals for protection, some for fecundation, and some for a check upon their excessive luxuriance. The tobacco-plant would often be destroyed by insects but for turkeys, which the planter keeps to feed upon them. The defensive agency of the turkey, in this instance, is but a specimen of a most ex- tensive interposition on the part of birds in favor of plants against insects. " Birds," says Lyell, " which feed indiscrimi- nately on insects and plants, are perhaps more instrumental than any other of the terrestrial tribes in preserving a con- stant equilibrium between the relative numbers of different classes of animals and vegetables. If insects become very numerous and devour the plants, these birds will immediately derive a large portion of their subsistence from insects, just as 314 THE THREE WITNESSES. the Arabians, Syrians, and Hottentots feed on locusts when the locusts devour their crops." On the other hand, are plants of any species likely to mul- tiply to the exclusion of others ? Those plants have allotted to them an appropriate insect to curb their luxuriance. Thus, there are no less than fifty species of insects which, according to Linnaeus, prey upon the nettle, — a plant so prolific that it would otherwise overrun our fields. Grass is kept down by the Phalaena graminis, " but for whose agency," says Wilcke, "it would destroy a great number of species of vegetables, of which the equilibrium is thus kept up. Lest, however, the insects assigned to a plant be too destructive, they are in their turn preyed upon by other insects. Thus the Iclincnmon stro- bilinos lays its eggs in the caterpillar, which preys upon the fir cone, inserting its long tail in the opening of the cone till it touches the included insect, for its body is too large to enter." We ask special attention to these facts, because they exhibit adaptations between substances naturally independent and separate. When the adjustment is between parts of the same organized structure, it may be alleged that there is a neces- sary connection, and that one rises spontaneously out of the other. Hardly any one, however, will venture to allege this of beings so entirely independent as different orders of plants, much less of cases in which the adjustment is between an order of plants as chief and an order of animals as subsidiary. CHAPTER V. THE LIFE-POWER WITNESSING TO DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. WE come now to the promotion of enjoyment, as well as to the maintenance of Life, — these being joint ends which the Creator seems to propose to Himself in the consti- tution and economy of aiiimals. From animals, therefore, we shall derive our examples, and we shall direct them to the illustration of two facts, — i. That as plants are dependent on animals for protection, fecundation, etc., so animals are de- pendent on plants for nutriment and enjoyment. 2. That one class of animals is, in like manner and for the same objects, dependent on another or other classes of animals. I. The general dependence of animals on vegetables for subsistence has been noticed already. Since no known ani- mal can subsist directly on inorganic matters, it is plain there must be purveyors for these substances. Plants are the men- strua in which these inorganic substances are reduced and transformed and made meet for animal consumption. But what shall guide animals in selecting from the vast range of plants ? Some feed on several different kinds, others confine themselves to a single species, and in both cases we find that there is a wonderful conformity between the organization of the animal, its instincts, and its appropriate food. In its wild state it selects with intuitive accuracy that which is salubrious and shuns that which is poisonous. What one seizes with avidity as food, another as carefully shuns ; for that which to one is life and health is to another disease and death. Thus, the goat shuns the baneberry (aconite), but eats water-hem- (315) 3i6 THE THREE WITNESSES. lock with impunity; while the horse can feed with safety on the former but is poisoned by the latter.* And it is most worthy of remark that wherever the Creator has assigned a habitation to a particular class of animals, there will be found growing the plants on which they can best subsist and thrive. For example, the ruminating animals prevail generally over the globe, except in New Holland ; and the grasses, their appro- priate food, grow wherever they prevail, but are wanting in that island. The quadrumana (monkeys, etc.) are confined to the tropical regions of Africa and America, and it is in the same districts that we find the palm-tree, so useful to that tribe ; but, as if to demonstrate that the connection is not necessitated, there is one spot (New Holland) where we find palms but no monkeys. Consider, also, the adaptation of the animal structure to the manner in which the food is to be obtained. Is the goat to browse on the edge of precipices, he has a hoof and legs that enable him to climb and step with perfect firmness and pre- cision. Is the reindeer to get its subsistence from the lichens and mosses that lie deep beneath the snow, he is provided with a branch to his antlers well fitted to remove that cover- ing; and, what is wonderful, the female deer is provided with this appendage only in polar regions. Is the camel, " that ship of the desert," as he is called with such beautiful signifi- cance in Eastern countries, is he to make long marches, where there is nothing but a waste of sand, he has a broad hoof like a snow-shoe, covered with an elastic cushion, and also an articulated disposition of bones in the leg precisely fitted for his work ; he has nostrils which are little more than long narrow slits, supplied at the orifices with a sphincter muscle to close them at pleasure, with surrounding rings of hair, — all enabling him to exclude the sand from these organs. He has attached to his main stomach a series of cells, into which he * Smellie's Philosophy, p. 147. Boston, 1843, LIFE-POWER WirXESSING DIVLVE BENEVOLEXCE. 317 can introduce water enough to serve him for several days, keeping it apart from the other contents of the stomach. In the hump or humps on his back, he has a reservoir of fat, which is stored away by him when he is in fertile pastures, and on which he draws, after the manner of the bear, when he is oppressed with hunger. Can we meditate on instances of adaptation like this, where the adjustment is between ob- jects so disconnected and dissimilar, — between precipices and the legs and feet of an animal, — between the drifting sands of the desert and the foot or stomach of a camel, and yet not feel that wondrous wisdom must have contrived, and a power not less wondrous must have arranged, them ? In the case of the camel, let it be observed, that when one of the same genus (camelidse), as, for example, the Llama of Peru, is to live amidst rocks and mountain-passes, his hoof, instead of being broad, is made narrow, and curved at the outer rim, somewhat like claws. The purpose here is too apparent to be disputed. Observe further, too, that the common camel and dromedary are never found on islands or continents where there are no extended plains. But these prospective contrivances reach beyond the sub- sistence of the animal itself They provide for the progeny which are to appear after the parent is no longer living. Take the butterfly, for instance. This insect is born an orphan, and dies childless. It never saw those who gave it birth ; it can never see those who are to spring from its own body. Its last act in life is to deposit its eggs. And where does it go for the purpose ? Not to the plants from which it has been ac- customed to extract the juices that are its own food. No ; it goes to that one plant which alone has leaves fitted to subsist its larvae, when, at the opening of the next spring, they shall burst their shells. It goes, too, to that part of the plant which will be likely to prove faithful to the trust, — not to a new and tender shoot, which may be nipped by the frost or broken by the wind, but to one of the oldest and strongest of the branches. 3i8 THE THREE WITNESSES. It selects that shrub, too, whose leaves will be sure to open just before its eggs are hatched. As there are different kinds of butterflies, whose larvae are produced at different intervals, so there is, in each case, an appropriate plant. The larvJE are neither born before the leaves spring forth, nor so long after as to find them hard and tough. And what is true of butterflies is true, also, of other insects. " Every plant has its guest to lodge and nourish." " Nature has reserved a species of plants for each species of insect." In the example just given, the plant is passive, and the in- sect performs the principal part of the labor. It is not always so. Look at the bark-puncturing insects. With their boring- instruments they perforate a place of deposit for their eggs, and forthwith a change takes place in the vegetative process. The wood enlarges around the q^^ ; a cell is thus prepared for the insect; and this work, which is often completed within two or three days, is always the same for the same species. No other instrument than that which this insect can apply will lead to any such result. Does it not show that in the consti- tution of the plant itself provision has been made for the se- curing and perpetuating of these insects ? Before closing this notice of the reciprocal adaptations be- tween plants and animals in respect to the subsistence and reproduction of the latter, we ask attention to the benevolence which they indicate. Life might be maintained among ani- mals as among vegetables, — without sensation, and, of course, without pleasure. But wherever the Creator gives suscepti- bilities to enjoyment, He gives, also, means for their exercise and gratification. Thus, eating is attended with pleasure over and above that which would suffice to keep the animal from starving. Pleasure is attached to all those acts which carry it forth in perpetual search of food. Motion, sunshine, sweet odors, melodious sounds, brilliant colors, all seem to have their charms for the orders of inferior being. "Tlie properties peculiar to each plant are but adaptations to creatures that can LIF^-POWER WITNESSING DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 31Q enjoy them. The scent, the form, the color of every flower and every leaf, and probably, also, of the very particles of earth that may be scattered by the wind, and even the various sands washed by. the boundless sea, are all in keeping with the senses and the appetites and the habits of different living beings. From the mammoth to the mite, from the iguanodon to the minutest animalcule, the hand of the Almighty has equally provided for every want. The order which has been most productive of life has been that which has been most productive of the means of maintaining life delightfully; for, though a malediction has been visibly written on the soil of the earth, yet even now the goodness which at first overflowed from the Maker of worlds as He contemplated his works, still appears so exuberant that our ideas of Omnipotence must be enlarged and exalted by Himself before we can believe in the possibility of benevolence greater than is here demon- strated."* 2. As some animals are dependent on plants for their enjoy- ment and subsistence, so in others there is a mutual depend- ence and adaptation between different classes of animals or between different individuals of the same class. Animalcules afford food to superior animals. The common scallops, as well as other mollusks, feed on infusoria, and their stomachs often contain thousands of shells which, being siliceous, have resisted the process of digestion. f From a paper recently read by Dr. Knox before the British Association for the Advancement of Science, it appeared that the Vendace, a fish well known in some of the Lakes of Scotland, derives its subsistence entirely from one species of infusoria, and that the same species, probably, constitute the food of the Herring. As we ascend to the higher orders, we find that the same principle is carried out among insects, reptiles, birds, mammalia. * Moore's Use of the Body in Relation to the Mind, p. 149. London, 1846. f Mantell on Animalcules, p. 103. -20 THE THREE WITNESSES. In most cases the inferior animal contributes to the nour- ishment of the superior by yielding up its life ; in others, how- ever, it employs its living powers in contributing to his enjoy- ment and support. Thus the aphides suck sweet juices from plants and disgorge them into the mouths of ants, whence they were termed by Linnaius the viildi-kinc of ants. Ants, also, have numbers of their own species that they seem to have reduced to slavery, and that are termed by Huber their negroes, because they are constantly busied in laborious and servile offices for the benefit of their masters. So with all the animals (the beaver, bee, etc.) that form what are called proper societies. There is mutual co-operation, which has a direct and most striking tendency to promote the welfare and happiness of the community. Even in the pairing of birds we have an example of mutual co-operation, since in general the males and females assist each other in building nests and feeding their young. "We here perceive design, because we trace adaptation. But we at the same time trace Benevolent design, because we per- ceive gratuitous and supererogatory enjoyment bestowed. See the care with which animals of all kinds are attended from their birth. The mother's instinct is not more certainly the means of securing and providing for her young than her gratification in the act of maternal care is great and is also needless for making her perform that duty. The grove is not made vocal during pairing and incubation, in order to secure the laying or the hatching of eggs ; for if it were as still as the grave, or were filled with the most discordant croaking, the process would be as well performed." " But thus it is, that Nature is gratuitously kind ; she not only prefers inducement to threat or compulsion, but she adds more gratification than is necessary to make the creature obey her calls."* * Lord Brougham's Illustrations of Paley, etc., vol. ii. p. 66. LIFE-POWER WITNESSING DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 321 THE SYSTEM OF PREY — DOES IT COMPROMISE THE BENEVOLENCE OF GOD? But where is the Benevolence, it may be said, in making one animal extract its sustenance from the sufferings and death of another ? Look at this system of warfare and remorseless prey which pervades the animal tribes. Can we regard this as any emanation of Benevolence ? We reply, that he who adjudges it to be irreconcilable with the goodness of the Creator, thereby binds himself to take no share in it; he can- not innocently be a party to that which his moral nature con- demns. It becomes him, then, to reject all animal food, to use no article of raiment which in its texture or color has been derived from dead animals, and to banish alike from his par- lor, his sleeping-rooms, and medicine-chest whatever can be traced to the same source. If he plead the grant made to Noah of the flesh of animals to be food for men, we answer that tJiat grant in Ids favor is scarcely more explicit than the one which the Creator made to the Lion, the Tiger, the Pan- ther, when He organized them with none but incisor teeth, a simple stomach, and an irrepressible thirst for prey. If he alleges the fact revealed by the microscope, that even our vegetable food is covered by animals of exceeding minute- ness, which are nevertheless organized, and that abstinence from all flesh being thus rendered impossible, he is an invol- untary though protesting party to the system of prey and death. We answer, — First. That we can know but in part, and that though our present knowledge and power of comprehension may be unequal to the office of vindicating this system, it may, none the less, be a wise and good system. Secojidly. That in human affairs suffering always stands justified when it is a necessary means to the attainment of a greater good, {E.g. Surgical operations, Labor in quest of gain, etc.) 21 322 THE THREE WITNESSES. Thirdly. That he who inflicts or permits the suffering gives incontestable evidence of his kindness, if he seem anxious to secure the greatest return of enjoyment at the least expense of pain. If the last two of these principles be applied to the system of prey and death among inferior animals, we shall not be left without some means of reconciling it with the goodness of the Creator. We shall find that the aggregate amount of enjoyment has probably been thereby augmented, inasmuch as the whole number of sentient animals, as compared with the whole number of plants on the globe, has been greatly increased. Were all carnivorous animals to become herbiv- orous, the annual plant-harvest of the globe would be totally inadequate to the support even of terrestrial animals, while fish must cease to exist. By the present arrangement, the privileges of sentient and animal existence are extended to a large portion of food, which must otherwise have been with- out those privileges. It rejoices in sensation and motion till it is wanted to maintain the same functions in other and higher organisms, and then, though the individual die the race still lives. The stream is unbroken ; and when we compare the enjoyment of a succession of individuals coming into life, full of the animation of opening existence, delighting in the offices that pertain to the propagation of their kind, we may well doubt whether, with all the reduction which must be placed to the account of suffering and death, they have not a greater aggregate of pleasure than could have been the lot of a solitary individual, even though his life had been coextensive with that of all the race. In respect to the sufferings incident to the life and death of animals, we may remark that, in our own experience, pleas- ures are heightened by their contrast with pain, and hence that all susceptibility to suffering is not necessarily an evil. We remark further that it is by no means certain that beings endowed, like animals, with the power of voluntary locomotion, I LIFE-POWER WITNESSING DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 323 and destined to procure their own subsistence, and with it their own enjoyment, could have been created with a capacity for pleasure only, independent of all susceptibility to pain. The one seems to be the necessary alternative of the other. Again, observe that the suffering seems to have been care- fully economized, — the animal being liable to so much as shall serve to guard him against danger and to no more. For ex- ample, the superficial nerves — those spread over the exterior parts of bodies and organs — are much more sensitive than those lying far within. A nerve of sense, again, is sensitive only to impressions from one class of objects, as the eye to light, the ear to sound. Bones can be cut or sawed without giving pain ; it is only when they are in danger of being frac- tured— the great danger to which bones are exposed in the living animal — that pain gives us warning. In like manner ligaments and tendons can be cut, pierced, burned, with- out suffering; it is only when they are strained that the nerves give us monitory intimation. Could that Being have been careless of the suffering of his creatures who organized the eye, — that instrument which in every animal seems so nicely adapted to its specific wants, — which is provided with so much apparatus for cleansing, moistening, and defence ; and the nerve of which has been supplied with precisely that measure of sensibility which enables it to fulfill its appointed functions with the least pain? Add but a grain to the sensi- tiveness of the optic nerve, derange but one of the number- less ducts or membranes or muscles or blood-vessels that eo to make up the organ, and vision, ordinarily a source only of pleasure, becomes the occasion of anguish. But these are not the only provisions which the Creator has made for reducing and economizing the pain occasioned to animals by death. In the first place, they are not burdened by that oppressive consciousness of guilt which often serves to shroud man's future in gloom, and to render departure from life a fearful change. In the second place, they have none but 7 1^ THE THREE ir/rXESSES. 0 the most limited capacity (if an}') for foreseeing this catastro- phe, and are not, therefore, like man, kept in bondage all their life long by the fear of coming dissolution. In the ////n/ place, they are not often bound to offspring, parents, or companions by permanent tics, the rupturing of which must be alike to those who depart and those that survive the occasion of bit- terness. In the fourth place, they have none of the restless, aspiring sentiments that make life, to man, one long and anx- ious fever-fit, and that precipitate him on death at last with a violent recoil. And in the last place, it is well worthy oi re- mark, that where one animal falls a prey to another, the suffer- ings seem to be carefully abridged: — i. The victim is always killed before being devoured. 2. It is attacked, generally, at tlie most vulnerable point, where death can be inflicted in the shortest space of time and with the least pain. The carotid arteries, and that point on the spinal column, near the base of the skull, where a single blow ends life, are the most fre- quently-chosen places of attack ; and is it not also most re- markable, that this point, known to man only by experiment and investigation, is intuitively known by animals ? Consider, on the other hand, the provisions which have been made for the enjoyment of animals that fall at last a prey to others. The herbaceous animals, and the inferior carnivora, are generally distinguished for their apparent comfort. A large portion of their allotted term of life is passed in freedom from disease, and in the contented enjoyment of all their instincts. Their lives may be compared to those of healthy, happy chil- dren-lives, of prevailing sunshine, with now and then a pass- ing cloud. There seems little reason to doubt that they can derive exquisite sensual pleasure from the colors, odors, sounds, and movements with which a bountiful Creator has encom- passed them. Their susceptibility to music may be taken as an example. " Sir W. Jones* testifies to the credibility of * Moore's Uses of Body in Relation to Mind, p. 180. LIFE-POWER WITNESSING DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 325 the story, that while a lutenist was playing before a large company in a grove near Schiraz, the nightingales vied with the musician until they dropped on the ground in a kind of ecstasy, from which they were roused by a change in the music. An officer, confined in the Bastile, found himself sur- rounded by hundreds of musical amateurs, in the form of mice and spiders, whenever he played on his lute. In the East persons are employed to rid houses of venomous snakes by causing them to come out of their holes at the sound of a lute. The Negroes catch lizards by whistling a tune to them." With this high susceptibility to pleasure may be combined comparative insensibility to pain. A medical and physiologi- cal writer remarks, "All creatures purely instinctive, such as insects, appear to me to be incapable of positive pain, but abundantly endowed with the capacity of pleasure. Their every action results from direct impression, so as always to be accompanied by a feeling of enjoyment, or a sense of doing what is desired, — the desire, the action, and the exciting cause of the action being connected without interval and without comparison. Thus, an insect, although cut in two, will seize its food with avidity."* That such an organization is not im- possible, may be made apparent from the following fact : A person wishing to have a tooth extracted, takes a dose of sul- phuric ether. The effect is a general exaltation of his nervous system, so that he feels an extraordinary sense of physical and mental vigor, and an almost irrepressible desire to exert his powers. At the same time, his sensibility to pain is so much diminished that, though he sees the dentist open his mouth, apply the instrument, and remove the tooth, he is en- tirely unconscious of pain, and the tooth is extracted without any sense of suffering. Suppose the temporary state thus induced in man by artificial means were the permanent state of insect life. Entire insensibility to suffering would probably * Moore's Uses, etc., p. 62. 326 THE THREE WITNESSES. not ensue, but it is evident that the amount endured would be trifling, while the percipient powers and the sense of enjoy- ment might remain unimpaired. Thus far, in considering tlie alleviations and compensations which distinguish the system of prey among inferior animals, w c have omitted all reference to the advantages which accrue to man from the power he exercises over their lives. These belong to the following head. Thus far we have confined our attention to plants and to animals inferior to man, and we have considered their adaptations only in respect to inorganic nature, and to such relations as subsist between different de- partments of Organic Life. We have seen that both plants and animals are adapted, with multifarious and unfailing wis- dom, to the constitution of the air, light, water, earth, etc. We have seen, also, that there are striking natural adjustments between the animal and vegetable kingdom, taken as a whole • between different classes of vegetables, each to the other; be- tween corresponding classes of vegetables and animals, and between different classes of animals. In all these adaptations we have considered man merely as a spectator. We have examined the provisions made, both among vegetables and among animals, for the maintenance of life, and wc have beheld in them most striking indications of the manifold ivisdom of God. We have considered, also, the arrangements made among the inferior orders of sentient existence for the pro- motion of enjoyment ; and in these provisions we have seen impressive proof of the vigilant kindness and benignity of Him whose mercy is over all his works. We have endeav- ored to sketch some of the impressions and convictions which must have forced themselves on man, if, instead of being a tenant in common with countless inferior beings of this broad earth, he were only a transient visitor ; and it would seem that he could not well have resisted the conclusion that it was a world created and governed by unbounded Wisdom, Power, and Benevolence. These conclusions, however, must be greatly LIFE-POWER WITNESSING DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 327 strengthened if we consider man as occupying his appointed place, and receiving, as well through the agency of inferior creatures as through the economy of his own nature, contri- butions to his happiness. In these contributions the Almighty gives us a view of his Holiness, as well as of his Goodness, Wisdom, and Poiver. CHAPTER VI. THE LIFE -POWER A WITNESS FOR ALL DIVINE PERFECTION. MAN'S tvdfare promoted through the agency of inferior creatures is, then, the topic for discussion under the class of adaptations now to be considered. Inferior creatures (plants and animals) have been so consti- tuted as to be bountiful contributors to {a) Man's Physical Ejijoyment ; {b) to his Mental Development ; {c) to his Moral Dis- cipline; (d) to his Social and Political Welfare. (a) To his Physical Enjoyment. What an immense propor- tion of our material enjoyments are derived from the organic world, — from plants and animals! All our food, if we except water, all our raiment, the larger part of our furniture and implements, and all that part of our edifices which comes into nearest contact with us, is derived from this source. Shut out from it, man would be unable to exist; permitted to use it, he need fix no bounds to his physical resources and enjoyments. There seems to be hardly a plant or animal on the globe which may not be made to subserve man's convenience or safety. Plants which are poisonous to him when in health have remedial power over his diseases. Substances the most unnoticed, and apparently the most insignificant, acquire, with the progress of knowledge, an unexpected, and often an almost unlimited, value. From the seaweed that floats to the beach, or the hyssop that springs out of the wall, up to the proudest monarch of the forest, there are few which, besides subsisting their appropriate insect or bird, do not also (or may not) min- ister to the necessities or comforts of man. The sea-weed yields kelp, etc.; the colchicum affords two or three distinct (328) LIFE-POWER A WITNESS FOR DIVINE PERFECTION. 329 medicines ; the acorn, roasted, has been converted into an agreeable substitute for coffee ; and bread, not unpalatable, and far from innutritious, has been made out of sawdust. If we turn to the animal world it is the same. Insects are immense contributors to man's safety and comfort, not only by destroying the plants that would otherwise overrun his fields, or by feeding on the carrion that might taint his air, but also by the uses to which they can be applied after death. More than a million of dollars is said to be paid out annually by England for the cochineal, — an insect used in dyeing. More than two millions of human beings are supposed to de- rive their employment and subsistence from the product of the silk-worm. The Spanish-fly, or Cantharides, used in medi- cine ; gallnuts, which are occasioned by the sting of insects, and are used in dyeing and making ink ; the honey and wax obtained from bees are other examples of the manner in which animals, even after their term of life is ended, can be applied to man's service. Not only is it likely that almost every organized plant and animal can be made directly subservient to human welfare, we find that the most various uses can be found for the same plant or animal. Take, for example, the great Mexican Aloe or Agave. The sap fermented forms a beverage ; " the fibres of its leaves make a coarse kind of thread ; the dried flowering stems are an almost imperishable thatch ; an extract of the leaves is made into balls which will lather water like soap ; the fresh leaves themselves cut into slices are occasionally given to cattle ; and finally, the centre of the flowering, split longitudinally, is by no means a bad substitute for a European razor-strap, owing to minute particles of silica forming one of its constituents." Take even one part of such a being, a homogeneous sub- stance like gum-elastic, or caoutchouc. It is the inspissated juice of several varieties of tree growing in South America. Forty years since it was applied to but one purpose, that of 330 THE THREE WITNESSES. effacing pencil or crayon marks from paper. How manifold the applications of it to human convenience and comfort which have been discovered during that brief space of time! It is now manufactured into shoes and boots, into cloth, into car- riage-tops, into life-preservers, into gaiters, suspenders, and almost every article of wearing apparel ; into travelling-bags, into bands for transmitting motion in machinery, into door- springs, into elastic-holders for paper, etc. In making it im- pervious to water, and elastic, as well as flexible, the Creator seems to have rendered it capable of supplying an almost in- finite number of human wants. The animal world is full of examples of the same kind. Take the Reindeer of the Arctic regions, or the Camel of sandy deserts, already referred to. How manifold are the uses to which they can be applied as well after they are dead as during life! Or take the domestic cow as an example. After supplying us while alive with milk, butter, cheese, manure^ and serving to replenish our herds, she becomes when dead an object of desire to a dozen different tradesmen, because she can contribute to supply more than that number of human wants. The butcher, the tallow-chandler, the soap-boiler, the glue-manufacturer, the tanner, the trunk and harness- maker, the maker of shoes and boots, of combs and lanterns, of neat's-foot oil, of bone-dust for manure, all find value in the carcass of the fattened ox or cow, thus showing how manifold are the different substances and uses which can be extracted out of the same organized being. And man's wants, be it observed, are ever varying and mul- tiplying. His desires are not like those of inferior animals, limited in number, and always directed to the same objects in the same form. In virtue of his imagination and his wide range of capacities, he is studious of change and intent on novelty. No sooner has one object been attained than his restless and fertile invention conceives of some other. One desire is no sooner gratified than another presses upon his LIFE-POWER A WITNESS FOR DIVINE PERFECTION. 331 insatiate spirit ; and hence it is that he needs to be surrounded by substances which admit of an indefinite number of trans- formations, and which are adapted in every state to satisfy some want or yield pleasure to some one of his many sus- ceptibiHties. In providing such substances, God has pro- claimed how wondrous are his Wisdom, Poiver, and Goodness. Is it not worthy of remark, also, how large a proportion of these substances become useful to man only after tJiey have ceased to live ? Life was necessary in order to build up their structures, to give them their peculiar properties, and then, its office being discharged, it disappears before the all-subduing and appropriating power of man. Our food is made up of vegetables and animals that once lived but live no longer. The artificial light which transforms our night into day, the artificial heat which diffuses warmth through our dwelling, substituting the climate of the tropics for the rigor of a north- ern winter, are derived from that which once had life but is now dead. So with our raiment and furniture. The cotton and linen with which we invest our limbs once flourished in the field ; the silk with which we decorate our person was once the winding-sheet of a crawling worm; the woolen cloth which defends us from cold, once warmed the backs of ani- mals; the table on which we write, the paper on which we trace these lines, the chair on which we sit, the floor on which it rests, the carpet that covers that floor, all point to death, as the mysterious change through which organic substances must generally pass before they become directly useful in supplying man's Physical wants. One remark more will close this branch of the subject. Plants and animals, considered as independent of man, are absolutely and almost invariably useful to each other. The adaptations are fixed and all but constant. Where the means exist, and are left undisturbed by man, the end will in most, if not all, instances be attained. It is not so with the adapta- tions now under consideration. Plants and animals are calcu- :;:.2 THE THREE WITNESSES. lated, as we have seen, to promote in a wonderful manner the physical enjoyments of our race. But man is endowed with a high but perilous prerogative. In virtue of the moral liberty, the power of self-determination which distinguishes him from inferior animals, he can promote, or he can at pleasure ob- struct, the purposes of the Creator. By the exercise of a per- verse and fatal ingenuity, he can transform that which is fitted to be a rich blessing into the direst of curses. Take the natural family of grasses for an example. It includes all the breadstuffs of the human race, from wheat down to oats, barley, rice, and millet. Applied to their proper use, they are an inestimable blessing, constituting emphatically our staff of life. But how is it when, bent on sensual excitement, man sends these grains to the Distillery rather than to the Flour-mill ? From that which, properly used, imparts only strength and health, he extracts a substance which, though useful in Medicine and the Arts, becomes when consumed as a beverage a prolific and fearful source of disease, sorrow, crime, and death. Thus does God hold us to our responsibility as free and intelligent Beings. He supplies us with that which shall cheer or scourge us, according as we use it well or ill, and in the re- tribution which each one thus works out for himself He pro- claims that the Judge of all the Earth will do right. We come now to consider how the Creator has adapted Plants and Animals to the promotion of the Mental, Moral, and Social welfare of man. As they contribute to these ends,. both in their natural state and through the transformations effected by art, we shall discuss each of these separately. I. In their Natural State. Every human heart is instinct- ively drawn towards that which has life. This attraction seems to be due partly to .sympathy and partly to imagination. In one sense we are ourselves plants, — i.e. we have involuntary vital functions analogous to those of plants, and which are therefore called vegetative; so that every opening flower, every rising stalk, seems to reflect back upon us a nature LIFE-POWER A WITNESS FOR DIVINE PERFECTION. 333 in one respect like our own. Again, we are animals as well as plants, — that is, we have organs of sensation and voluntary motion like animals ; so that when we look on them we are drawn by a twofold cord of sympathy, inasmuch as they are seen to reflect back upon us a nature in two respects like our own. Imagination comes in aid of the sympathies thus ex- cited ; because it sees, in the changes to which all living beings are subject, and in the mysterious processes through which these changes are produced, more than enough to awaken curiosity and wonder. In the case of children, this instinctive interest in animal and vegetable life appears to be greatly increased by an abounding nervous energy. The mass of nervous matter bears in a child a much larger pro- portion to its whole bulk than it does in an adult. In conse- quence of this, the vital activities of a child are, for wise and obvious purposes, restless and overflowing, so that they suffice not only to supply all physical requisitions of that age, but also to clothe, with an imaginary life, every object with which it comes in contact. The disposition of children to personify that on which they look, to ascribe life to inanimate objects and reason to animals, is familiar to every one. It may pos- sibly account for the origin oi fable, — a medium of instruction in which animals and plants appear as our sage teachers, and which has always prevailed from the days of Jotham to our own. Every child is in some sense an yEsop or a Fontaine, in- asmuch as every child is inclined to establish a communion of thought and feeling between himself and all that has life. Here, then, are so many different provisions of the all-wise Creator, which tend to make plants and animals subservient in early life to the great end of our mental and moral develop- ment. They awaken curiosity and keep it alive. They give scope and play to the imagination. They enlarge the circle of our active sympathies. Every plant that springs up and grows and declines, — eveiy animal, whether in a wild or a domestic state, — every fluttering insect and soaring bird and 334 THE THREE WITNESSES. creeping reptile and moving quadruped, makes an appeal to the opening faculties of childhood. In those animals over which a child can exercise power, we have so many instru- ments also of moral discipline. He soon indicates whether he is disposed to abuse that power. Is he regardless of the suf- ferings of the animals with which he sports — beware lest, as he grows up, he be indifferent to the feelings of friends and associates, or reckless of the rights and happiness of all on whom he can trample with impunity. On the other hand, is he morbidly sensitive to the claims of these inferior beings, and disposed to transfer to them the sympathies and affections due mainly to those of human kind — beware lest his sensibility become his enemy, lest he lose in his imaginative com- munion with nature that robust strength of understanding, and that general equilibrium of soul which alone can fit him for the higher duties and onjoyments of life. As a child advances in years, he is prone to withdraw his mind more and more from inferior forms of life, and to concentrate it on human forms and passions ; or he is dis- posed to lose himself still more exclusively in sentimental contemplations. Either of these tendencies is to be depre- cated ; and either of them may be avoided in part, at least, through the systematic and proper study of Natural History. This science makes us acquainted with the great plan on which the Creator has constituted organic nature. It deepens our interest in living beings by enlightening it, by teaching us how admirably they are framed, how wisely adapted to their purposes, how full of problems that stimulate, and yet transcend all our investigating powers. Wisely conducted, it is a study that may contribute alike to cssthctical, to intel- lectual, and to moral development. If the reading of text- books be combined with the observation of nature, with the careful examination of plants or animals, and that not in a pedantic, but in a liberal, thoughtful, and comprehensive spirit, the result must be favorable alike to taste and to ere- LIFE-POWER A WITNESS FOR DIVINE PERFECTION 335 ative genius. All great Poets, Painters, and Sculptors have been enthusiastic observers of the Natural World, and especi- ally of the world of animated beings; for, be it observed, that inanimate objects have little artistic or poetical interest inde- pendent of the living forms with which they are associated. A landscape without vegetation or animal life, even the ocean divested of its restless movements, which give it the appearance of a thing of life, and deprived of the myriads of animated and rejoicing inhabitants with which our minds always people it, would be tame and prosaic. He, then, who would be a true artist must love all that has life. He must have caught its spirit; and since his pictures have value only in proportion as they are true, he must be inti- mate with the forms as well as the spirit of animated beings. As with the Artist, so with all who would relish his works. He who would raise his mind to the height of the great Poet or Painter or Sculptor, who would appreciate his creative or his pictorial skill, must have become familiar with his origi- nals. Above all, must he do this who would enjoy and under- stand the works of Him who is the Artist of all Artists, and who has traced on the canvas of animated nature those ma- jestic lines and those celestial tints and hues which human artists strive in vain to imitate. But there is a culture still more important than the cesthctical. It is the culture of the /r(^f//£- 55 reasoning. The brain may be employod in all these acts, just as the pen, the hand, the arm are all employed in writing down this sentence. But no one would dream of referring the power which conceived the sentence either to the arm, the hand, or the pen. Why, then, refer it to the brain, which consciousness proclaims is but another link in the chain of means and instruments? Every language contains "words significant of spirit as distinguished from matter; and as every language is the mirror which reflects to us the natural and necessary convictions of those who used it, we have in this fact also conclusive proof that belief in the proper imma- teriality of the soul is the spontaneous growth of our con- sciousness. The facts which attest the validity of this belief are very numerous. We advert to only a few of them. The mind can react upon the brain even when this organ is diseased. By invoking the power of the will it can for a time bring back clearness and calmness to our tumultuous conceptions. Through sudden and violent emotion it can arrest the pro- gress of disease. It can, by a stern effort at self-command, tranquillize the agitation of the nerves, and by determined re- sistance arrest the power even of poisons that have been taken into the body. In cases of paralysis, the patient tells us that his brain is too weak to allow him to think coherently ; but his soul asserts her independence by perceivi-ng and mourn- ing over the imbecility of its corporeal instrument, and by remaining alive as ever to moral distinctions. The fact that the mind appears to share in the derangement of its special organ, is nothing more than we ought to expect. It is through that organ that the mind manifests itself. If the medium of manifestation becomes incapable of performing its office, we must expect that the power to be manifested will disappear, or be in some degree obscured. Our abilit}^ to read with glasses depends on their clearness and proper sphericity; but we do not therefore conclude that reading is a function of 35^ THE THREE WITNESSES. spectacles, much less a function of those which have only a given degree of clearness and sphericity. But our limits will not permit us to enlarge further on this subject here. We shall resume it in another connection. Meanwhile let us observe the light which these views cast upon our true condition and our proper responsibility, and also the corroboration which they afford to the moral precepts of the Bible. Independent of a careful study of the different parts of our constitution, and of the evident subordination assigned to the corporeal organs, we might suppose that, in obeying animal impulses without reflection, we were obeying the decrees of the Creator; and we might imagine that there was inconsistency between the Natural Law, which seems to enjoin or authorize indulgence, and the Revealed Law, which commands self-denial and moderation. These impressions must disappear before a full and candid examination even of our material organization. We see that, even on our lower nature, is inscribed evidence that we are more than animals. The body points upward to the soul, exhorts us to prefer its interests before all things, and protests against an unreflecting submission to appetite or passion. On such submission it brings down retribution through its own diseases and suffer- ings. And in the impotence and the perverted cravings which wait on the abuse of its organs, it yields persuasive proof in favor of that remedial dispensation which offers not only pardon for our sins, but also strength for our weakness and a power to cleanse and purify all our corruption. BOOK II. CHAPTER I. THE SOUL A WITNESS TO THE DIVINE EXISTENCE. IN the preceding Book we glanced at the structure and functions of man's body, and compared them with those of inferior animals. We saw enough of unity and correspond- ence to show that both were creations of the same mind and hand ; but we saw, also, that there was vast dissimilarity. In almost every respect man's organi:2ation has striking peculi- arities, and these peculiarities are utterly inexplicable, except on the supposition that his psychical nature is pre-eminent for its endowments over those of any class of animals. The pos- session of a free, self-conscious, and discursive intelligence, — of a Reason vast in its range, ever-progressive in its powers, deliberative in its nature, free and self-detrmined in its voli- tions,— is the only fact which will explain the structure even of man's body. And that reason, as we have seen, must be the attribute or function, not of material organs, but of a spiritual substance which we characterize as soul or mind. The Science of Soul, then (hence called Psychology), or the Science of Mind (hence called Mental Philosophy), is the source from which we propose to draw a new series of argu- ments and illustrations. Rich as it is in materials, these ma- terials have been hitherto much neglected. But kw of our popular works on Natural Theology notice the psychologicac argument at all ; and even they, in most cases, discuss it in only a cursory manner. Lord Brougham has pointed out this (357) (58 THE THREE WITNESSES. deficiency, but has not supplied it. Dr. Chalmers has pre- sented some of the proofs furnished by our moral constitu- tion ; but we know of no work in any language — in English there is certainly none — in which the argument has been largely developed, in connection with a rigorous and extended analysis of the faculties of the human mind. This omission cannot be supplied in this work, but it is to be regretted. Where is there a nobler subject of contemplation than the soul of man ? Thought can fly far away into space, beyond the ken of our largest telescope. Emotion can traverse the ocean, which separates loving and confiding hearts, with more than telegraphic speed. Fancy can explore the universe, to gather materials for her airy castles in a moment of time. The most complicated trains of thought can be untwisted and analyzed with a celerity which leaves behind the utmost dex- terity and skill of the accomplished chemist. And when we think of the manifold and seemingly discordant energies of the human soul, all working together in perfect harmony, the intellect laboring with thought, the heart fired with pas- sion, the imagination ranging from earth to heaven and from heaven to earth, the moral sentiments swelling with high de- sign, and all these powers at one and the same instant collect- ing and concentrating themselves in some mighty and noble volition in the cause of truth or duty, where is there a grander subject for thought, or one more likely to reflect light and glory on the character of its Author and Upholder ? Illustrations furnished by the mind possess, moreover, this advantage, — that they are accessible to all. Those drawn from Chemistry and Physiology must, in many cases, be taken on authority. The facts cannot be examined by the hearer or reader. But psychological facts are open to such exam- ination. They transpire, most of them, in each one's own breast. They can be remembered, reproduced, modified, ob- served, and thus the statements of the teacher be verified or corrected by the scholar. And this course is essential, if we THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 359 would clearly apprehend and appreciate the facts and argu- ments which are about to be presented. They are taken from each one's own mental experience, and each one must look within, therefore, in order to find the original of the pictures which are drawn. And are there not other advantages in such a line of argu- ment as leads to the contemplation of spiritual rather than material facts ? The soul is too much given to wandering abroad in quest of the sensible and palpable. This propensity is strengthened by the majestic advances now making in the material arts and sciences. We need studies to act as a coun- terpoise. In a mystical or ideal age we might appeal to the external world for facts and influences to redress the balance which a too intense and constant contemplation of the spir- itual might disturb. But this is not our danger now. Consider, too, how much we need these studies, in order to refresh our memories in respect to the worth and value of our souls. The capitalist does not trust merely to recollection in respect to the extent of his possessions. He takes down his Rent Roll ; he looks over his Bonds and Mortgages and Cer- tificates of Stock; he counts his coin, and thus assures him- self that the /6'zccr which is represented by all these is a power which still actually belongs to him, and which is awaiting his pleasure. And should it not be so Avith our mental endow- ments and possessions ? How shall we assure ourselves that they are ours, or measure their proper and surpassing value, unless we survey them frequently and with care ? Transient views, hasty glances, are not sufficient. And without studying our minds, how shall we know well how to use them ? They are given to us to be enlightened, moulded, directed, saved. But this great work implies self- knowledge, self-knowledge implies self-examination, and self- examination, if it would not mislead, should involve a com- prehensive and searching inspection and analysis of all our mental operations ; for any one class of them is mysteriously 36o THE THREE WITNESSES. but most essentially affected by the character of others, as, for instance, the conclusions of the understanding by the state of the feelings. He, then, may felicitate himself who, by enlarging on the psychological argument, contributes in the least to inspire men with some taste for these studies ; and especially may he do so if he lead them to cultivate such studies in a religious spirit and for the attainment of religious knowledge. It is a mournful fact, that men can pass through life knowing little of their own natures, though wise in the wisdom of the world ; keen and sagacious as observers and reasoners upon the conduct of other men, but ignorant what spirit they are of themselves; known to others, but unknown to themselves. Nothing can break up this unholy spell but strenuous effort to study our own hearts, — to see ourselves as others see us; and, above all, as we are seen and known by the All-seeing. A knowledge of the constitution of the human mind in general, of our own minds in particular, and a careful comparison between the normal and the actual state of our souls, between these souls as they arc, and these same souls as they ought to be, — nothing short of this can make us wise indeed. We come, then, to ask, what testimony lias the soul to give in respect — I. To the Divine Existence and Oiaracter. II. To Man's Duty and Destiny ? We take as a witness, not the soul or mind of any particular individual, formed in this or that land, in this or that age, whose native characteristics have been modified, in some respects exaggerated, in others im- paired, by the artificial influence of education, custom, civil government, literature, or religion. We take, rather, the average man, not the man of the woods, for even his character has been greatly affected by position and education ; not the man of the city, for he may have been yet more thoroughly transformed, but the Representative man, who can serve as the type of his race, who embodies those fundamental, charac- teristic, and ineffaceable attributes which belong to our spe- THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 361 cies everywhere and always, who is made known to us partly through our own consciousness, partly through a comparison of our mental acts with what we learn through observation of others, partly through history, partly through the sketches and portraits drawn by great masters like Homer and Shak- speare. This is the witness, more or less developed and re- flective in his habits, whom we would interrogate. We sup- pose him destitute of all bias ox prejudice, — for the time being destitute, too, of any positive* knowledge in respect to Re- ligion, and only summoned to state what his reason, instincts, and sentiments suggest in regard to the great problems of Theology. And we would also observe how far his answers correspond with those which we have previously obtained from Nature and those, also, which we get from the Bible. Is there any Spiritual Being higher than man? To this question the soul supplies a twofold answer, — one suggested by Reason, one forced on us by our Instinct. {a) Reason suggests that, on all other subjects we reason from the known to the unknown, and from the seen to the unseen, on principles of analogy. We should, therefore, do so here ; and what is the result ? We know that there are spirits as numerous as there are living men, and that there have been spirits in times past as numerous as the whole past population of the globe. We know that as they advance from infancy to childhood the body becomes less and less essential. We observe some individuals so frail, so intellectual, and. spiritual that we should not be surprised to see them disap- pear ; and we are constrained to believe that the souls of men can exist without their bodies. What is the reasonable in- ference, then, with respect to higher existences, — spirits of a higher order? Again, ascending from the lowest order of animals to man, we see a gradual increase of intelligence as contradistinguished from instinct, new faculties added, old ones improved, until we pass the broad gulf that separates the mind of man from 362 THE THREE WITNESSES. that of animals. And arc wc to stop there ? Can we ascend no higher ? Below and on our own level all is life and ex- istence ; above, is all a solitude ? To this point there is an ascending Hierarchy. Does that Hierarchy rise no higher? Or, again, we pass downward, till we reach the line that separates the visible from the invisible. Is all beyond an empty void ? The microscope answers. Ascending, take the other line which separates the visible from the invisible. Is all across that line a dreary void ? There are some beings whom we cannot see, because they are too small. May there not be others whom we cannot see, because they arc too sub- tile, too ethereal ? Once more. There is graduation from below upward to man. Why not from man upward through Angel and Arch- angel, Cherubim and Seraphim, Principality and Power, till we pass from the fiiiitc to the Infinite, from the temporary to the Eternal, from the Derived and Dependent to the Underived and Self-existetit ? i?mj'(3;/, then, guided hy Analogy, \sov\dii infer that there may and must be Spirits higher than man's, and that presiding over all would be One of Boundless Power and Knowledge. Does it suggest anything of their natures ? It docs — 1. P>om the fact that, wherever intelligence and affections are found among men, they have the same properties and are subject to the same laws, we infer that man's nature is every- where the same. From the fact that so far as animals exhibit understanding and rational emotions and affections, we can comprehend them and communicate with them, we are led to the fact that there is a certain likeness and analogy between the psychical character of all terrestrial animals. Would not this suggest that a corresponding likeness pervades all intelli- gences? If between men and animals there can be much in common, how much more between men and superior spirits ! 2. And this conjecture is greatly strengthened from the nature of truth. Certain truths, moral and mathematical, arc THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE EXISTENCE. 363 necessary, and wherever seen must command, on the part of the mind that has sufficient capacity to apprehend them, the self-same conviction and assent. There can be in the Universe no other Geometry or Arithmetic than our own. And so of many contingent truths, such as those of As- tronomy and Mechanical Philosophy. Hence Angels and God must have intelligent and moral natures, in some essen- tial respects, like unto our own. We wonder not, therefore, as we open the Bible, to read that God made man in his own image, or that there is more joy among the angels of heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just persons which need no repentance. {!)) The answer which Instinct gives to the question pro- posed is felt in our own hearts ; is seen in the conduct of others ; is attested in the practice of every nation. Its voice is clearest and most commanding when great emergencies press upon us — danger, affliction, helplessness. When we find ourselves heartsick with the world's emptiness or treachery, — then who does not pray ? who does not crave support from something higher than Nature or Man ? Where have not altars risen, priests interceded, victims atoned, and the gods been feared or loved ? At other times, reason perverted may darken counsel ; passion may make us wish there were no God ; the world's pomp and cares may cast his presence and glory into dim eclipse ; but what are these but artificial masks and disguises, that conceal the natural man? Danger and grief thrust them aside and show us what is the true voice of our inmost hearts. Is this voice deceptive ? So some would tell us. And so some teach in respect to that voice which proclaims that there are without us beings to be loved, duties to be discharged, even an external world to be believed in. Philosophy, too in- genious, too much given to question and scrutinize, has some- times sought to persuade herself that our knowledge can never pass without the sphere of consciousness ; that we can know 3^4 THE THREE WITNESSES. nothing except the Die — the subjective — what passes ivitJiin. But a yet wiser philosophy has taught us that the subjective imphes the objective, — that impressions on the organ necessitate the beHef in a cause ab extra, — that emotions within of love to parents, to children, prove that there are parents, children ; and so likewise that tendencies to worship, honor, and fear God, in forcing upon us the conviction that God is, demonstrate that the conviction is more than mere illusion. Otherwise we could never have a jirst principle in moral or practical questions, — no starting-pointiox reasoning and investigating, — no axioms, — but all would be a wide waste of doubt and darkness. Other- wise all our primary and irrepressible beliefs must be regarded as so many vain delusions or foul impostures. CHAPTER II. THE SOUL A WITNESS TO THE DIVINE UNITY, PERSON- ALITY, AND WISDOM. THE first question, that which respects the Divine Exist- ence, we have already discussed ; we come now to the second. Second. What is the Divine Nature f Observe that we lay aside, for the present, all Divine Knowledge derived from other sources, such as External Nature and Revelation, and supposing ourselves uninstructed in anyway, and unbiased, we ask, what says the witness of the soul, — of that mind which may be taken as the Representative of our Race after its manifold experiences through the term of six thousand years ? Having obtained, by this independent process, a clear view of the psychological evidence, we may add it to that evidence obtained from Physics and Physiology, remembering that the value of the whole is not the mere arithmetical sum of the separate parts, but is rather a certain power of that sum, each separate part of the proof deriving additional strength and value from its combination with the others. The question, what is the Divine Nature, involves five dis- tinct problems : I. Is God one or more? II. Is He Personal or Imper- sonal? III. Is He Intelligent or Unintelligent ? IV. Is He Benevolent or Malignant? V. Is He Holy or Unholy? Or, in other words, what is the testimony of the soul in respect to the Divine Unity, Personality, Wisdom, Goodness, and Holi- ness ? (365) 366 THE THREE WITNESSES. I. The Divine Unity. — Is God one or many? Is ]\Iono- theism or Polytheism the system taught us by the nature and laws of the mind ? When men have undertaken to invent Religions, Polytheism has often been the result. Was it from a consideration of what the mind teaches ? We conceive not. The various systems of Polytheism may be traced, we appre- hend, to the neglect of all proper study of mind, and to a too exclusive regard to the poivcrs of external Nature and the aehieve- ments of illustrious men. When from such partial views we turn to listen to the voice from within, that which comes up from the depths of our own Being, we find much which, if duly considered, will force on us the impression that God is One. I. We learn from consciousness that we have existed but a short time (for our consciousness tells us nothing of any existence of ours before we were born into this world), that we cannot by any power of ours preserve that existence, and cannot, of course, have originated it. We are not the authors of our own being, but have derived it from some other, and so we ascend back till we get to a self-existent Cause, who must be eternal, because underived ; who, as the author and upholder of all other existence, can scarcely be less than Infi- nite in Power and Immensity; and since two or more Infinites cannot exist together, we have thus One, and but one. Self- subsisting, Eternal, and Almighty Creator. Or, in another form. The notion of time limited (which all must form implicitly, or explicitly) involves the notion of time unlimited; so of space limited, power or cause limited; and thus we get by another process to the ideas of Infinite Power, Duration, Knowledge, etc., which we conceive of only as at- tributes of some substance, properties inhering in some sub- ject or object. Thus we reach a conviction of the Divine Unity through simple and necessary processes of the Reason, independent of anything but our general consciousness and our most ab- stract notions. THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE UNITY. 367 2. Again, what conclusion would result from observing psychological facts? The same. For everywhere through- out the earth, and back through all time, we find men char- acterized by the same psychical properties. There is endless diversity in original temperament, and that diversity is still further increased by education, institutions, and physical con- dition ; but beneath it all there are the same essential attri- butes, the same intellectual powers, the same desires and sus- ceptibilities, the same moral sentiments. Man civilized and uncivilized, the Esquimaux amidst perpetual snows, the Afri- can on equinoctial sands, — all have ineffaceable and identical characteristics of a common nature. But if all men of all the nations of the earth are thus made of one blood, does it not prove that one God and Father is the Maker of them all ? But if we look beyond men to animals, we see reason to con- clude that their mental qualities and susceptibilities, whatever may be their measure, came from the same hand with those of men ; and if in our view of man we embrace his aniuial as well as his spiritual nature, we see there an epitome, as it were, of the universe, — inccJianical and cJiemical actions taking place in his body essentially the same as those which are taking place in the inorganic world of matter, — •zvV<^/ processes precisely analogous to those of plants and animals; while in his soul are spiritual processes, representing in kind, though not in degree, all that we can conceive of as possible in the operations of mind. Here, then, all parts of creation are summed up into one, as if to show that there is a bond of unity pervading all things, and proclaiming that One Mind conceived and One Almighty hand framed them all. II. But, again, is God Personal or Impersonal ? On ex- amining the human soul, do we find that it points towards Theism or Pantheism as the true view of God ? We offer no injustice to the latter when we say that Pantheism does not spring from the Instincts of the human heart, and can hardly be drawn from an inductive survey of the facts of con- J 58 THE THREE WITNESSES. sciousness. Pantheistic Philosophers have usually distrusted all the instinctive impulses of their minds. They have de- clined, or but sparingly used, the psychological and inductive method in their investigation. They have preferred Onto- logical speculations, — have started from the notion of being in the abstract, from the most general conceptions of the Infi- nite and Absolute, and, reasoning from these with as little appeal as possible to consciousness for specific mental phe- nomena, with as little use as might be of what they have stigmatized as empirical — i.e. of inductive — reasoning, they have labored to construct a Universe and a God for them- selves by a rigorous process of demonstration : They take the high priori road, And reason downwards till they doubt of God ! doubt of his personality, and of all such views of Him as are calculated deeply and benignly to impress and regulate the heart of man. But what says that heart itself, interpreted by the voice of consciousness ? I. It says, I am conscious of my own individuality; con- scious that I am not a part, but a whole ; dependent, yet dis- tinct ; an integer, not a fraction ; having, within the sphere of my own proper consciousness, all that is myself, but no more. My conciousness tell.'^ me nothing of my being a part of the Universe, or a part of God. It revolts at such thoughts. It tells me that I suffer, whicfi God, as Self-existent, Eternal, and Almighty, cannot. Hence I am not a part of God, nor is any other man, nor is Nature, a part of Him. In Him, in- deed, all things exist and have their being. But does He exist and have his Being in them ? These are not independent of their Creator and Upholder ; but is not their Creator and Up- holder independent of them ? He is pleased to send forth, from the centre of his own Omnipotence, a train of worlds, and a Hierarchy of Creatures. He expresses Himself through THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE UNITY. 369 them. He moves and actuates them at will more easily than we can move any member of our bodies. But He is not of them, though in one sense in them. He sits behind his own creation, and might, for aught we can know, have forever dwelt in the solitude of his own existence but for his own good pleasure. 2. Again, the heart of man says, I am conscious of my own PERSONALITY. I know that I am a person, not a thing, {a) I can know myself; can make my own thoughts and feelings the subject of contemplation ; can give them objectivity, to bor- row the language of Metaphysics. I have self-consciousness, I can form an idea of the nie, of myself, as distinguished from the not me; of the subjective, as opposed to the objective, and meditate upon my own character and prospects. Can animals do so ? {b) Again, I can possess myself I can appropriate, use, direct at will my own powers ; but I cannot make myself over, nor can any one make me over, as a chattel, into the possession of another. Another may overpower me, he may exact service from me, he may compel me to work for his benefit, not my own, but he cannot take possession of my soul, and make me do it unresistingly, thus transferring all my volitions to himself. Can animals possess themselves? {c) Again, I have moral freedom, the power of self-determina- tion, the capacity of arbitrating between motives, and, instead of yielding passively to that motive which is adjudged to be the strongest, of obeying that which though weakest is yet seen to be most rightful and authoritative. But does not such 2i personality on my part point to a corresponding personality in my Creator? Can the thing formed be nobler and spirit- ually greater than the thing that formed it ? in. Is God Intelligent or Unintelligent ? Is He a forecasting, deliberatively wise Being, or is He not to be distinguished from the blind, adaptive power which we call nature, and whose workings, though unerring, are instinctive, not ra- tional ? It has been alleged that when we reason from adap- 24 370 THE THREE WITNESSES. tations in Nature, we cannot infer intelligent design, but only the presence of a power working blindly and unconsciously like the insect. We have already questioned the legitimacy of this position, and have shown how we are obliged to in- terpret all the adjustments in Nature through the medium of our own consciousness and mental experience, and how easily we can distinguish between instinctive and intelligent adapta- tions. But, if we come from nature to our own souls, we have the most irresistible evidence of Divine Forecast and free choice in — 1. Our consciousness o{ personality. 2. Our consciousness of a free, deliberative Intelligence or Reason in ourselves. 3. In the admirable and numberless adjustments and adapta- tions in the structure and mechanism of our souls — e.g. their faculties as compared with those of animals. They do not differ simply by superaddition, as would be the case in a system of mere progressive development. Some things are subtracted (instincts), others added (higher reason), and the occasion is manifest. Animals are made to be stationary; both individuals and Races move, from age to age, over the same horizontal plane; there is no improvement (except the most limited, and that from without, and through man's agency) either in the individual or in the species. But men are progressive ; the individual, the Race, goes upward, and no limits can be fixed to its ascending advance. An inclined plane, which seems without a farther limit, represents its capa- bilities. 4. Again, compare the psychical endowments of the two sexes. The faculties and susceptibilities are the same in kind, but different in degree. On the one side, more robust strength of intellect; on the other, more quickness and sprightliness. On one side, powers better fitted for stern and violent effort ; on the other, for patient and protracted endurance. On one hand, faculties and aspirations that belong to the workday THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE UNITY. 371 world without; on the other, affections, susceptibilities, graces that embellish the sanctuary of home. One has faculties that fit him to govern ; the other, to make obedience a grace and a pleasure. Who can look at the different spheres which must be filled, without seeing that there must have been fore- cast and preadjustment? Suppose men were constituted ex- actly like women, or women like men, how vastly would the happiness and the glory of life be abridged ! 5. Observe, again, the different elements in our humanity: the separate faculties and functions of the soul, — the intel- lectual, the sensitive, the aisthetical, the moral, the Regal Wt/l, an absobitc Prince. Observe {a) how each is adapted to its end, — intellect to get knowledge, mental power, etc. {Ji) How each is adapted to all the others, and all the others to each ; how intellect helps the passions, the taste, tlie imagi- nation, the conscience, and the will ; how the passions help the intellect, how they discipline the conscience by opposition, or help it by co-operation. {c) How each and all are essential to the healthy and be- neficent working of the mind and of society. Take away intellect and leave the rest, or the passions and leave the rest, or the conscience and leave the rest, or thezc^z'/Zand leave the rest — of the result we can judge by what we see when an individual is greatly deficient in any of these powers or susceptibilities, through congenital causes, through insanity, or through misconduct. He is a monster, a buffoon, or a drone. id) How the soul, considered as an instrument and as a whole, has manifold adaptations, will serve one purpose as if it had been framed only with reference to it, and yet serve others as if that had never been thought of An instrument of human fabrication commands our admiration in proportion as it can subserve different uses, especially if it be at all com- plex in its mechanism. Hence the steam-engine is deemed a proud monument of human ingenuity. 2 '7 2 THE THREE WITNESSES. Now, what are some of the uses of the human soul ? To instance one : It is to give man dominion over all things ter- restrial. To that he seems destined, — it is best that he should have it, — and he gets it in proportion as he applies mind, and cultivated mind, instead of brute force. Why have a few white men, in two hundred years, felled the great forests on this continent, driven out the ravenous beasts of prey, dis- possessed the savages, reared cities and villages unnumbered, and spread cultivated fields where all was a howling waste ? The answer is, they have used mind in the appointed way — i.e.: I, thoughtfully; 2, with associated effort; and 3, they have enforced such effort with all the assistance that can be derived from past ages and different parts of the world. CHAPTER III. THE SOUL A WITNESS TO THE DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. WAIVING further proofs and illustrations in respect to the Wisdom of God, we propose now to answer the fourth of the five questions already propounded in respect to the Divine Nature. Is God benevolent? When men frame to themselves a Religion, under the influ- ence of fear and hatred, we can well understand why it should represent God as a stern, ungracious, and even vindictive Being. So when they come to the consideration of it, under a deep sense of their own personal guilt and ill desert, this feeling, coupled with a corresponding idea of Retributive jus- tice, and with no perception of a way of pardon, can hardly construct to itself the notion of a placable and benignant Father. And even philosophical minds, if they occupy them- selves with considering only the prevalence of natural and moral evil in the world, excluding all contemplation of the abounding provisions for physical and mental enjoyment, may easily reach the conclusion that the author of such a system, as they seem to see, must breathe war and hatred rather than Peace and Good Will towards men. But we are to ask what conclusions would be reached by a candid and unbiased mind, surveying the subject in the light of man's whole mental con- stitution and condition. And here we observe that, in order to appreciate the full force of this evidence, we should distinguish between mind as we often find it, perverted, undeveloped, or debased, and mind as it came from the Creator. To ascertain the character of him who frames any system or instrument, we must take it (373) 374 THE THREE WITNESSES. in its original or natural state. By this, in respect to man, we do not mean the barbarous and uncivihzed state ; for that corresponds less with the true nature of the mind than a state the most civiHzed. We mean, rather, that state to which the structure and economy of the soul evidently point as its 7iornial or healthy or perfect state. Important as this distinction is, however, we shall often waive it, and take Human Nature as it presents itself in the average course of life, and of the world. I. Instead of taking the human soul in the gross, as an integer, we shall confine our remarks in this chapter to one class of its functions, the emotional, and to a limited and partial view even of them. We select the self-re gar ding and the relative afifec tions and emotions, those which are usually but improperly called the selfish and the social — the one set urging us to- wards what appears to be for the happiness of ourselves ; the other, urging us towards what appears to be for the happiness of others. We exclude the term selfish, because none of these susceptibilities is naturally reflective in its character, but they all act instinctively, and therefore without any clear discrimina- tion between ourselves and others. To the self-regarding princi- ples belong the animal appetites, the desire for power, for ap- probation, etc. To the relative, belong love of children, love of parents, love of friends, pity for the distressed, etc. We ask attention to three notable facts connected with this part of our mental constitution r—yfrj-/, its twofold character, — there are two antagonistic tendencies; second, the tzvofold dicWon of each tendency ; and third, their variable force and character. First. The twofold constitution of our nature in this respect. We have not only principles urging us to care for our own happiness, — for in that case we might sacrifice the happiness of others, — nor only principles urging us to do good to others, — for in that case we might do great or fatal harm to ourselves. By making us, through the self-regarding affec- tions, vigilant guardians of our own enjoyments, and through THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 37 e our benevolent instincts guardians also of the enjoyment of those around us, and especially of those most nearly con- nected with and dependent upon us. God has provided for the maxiimmt of enjoyment and improvement to mankind, so far as it depends on their own voluntary agency. And Christ exhibits his profound knowledge of human nature when, shunning the two prevalent ethical systems of his time, the Epicurean and the Stoical, He struck the golden mean, and announced as the sum and substance of the Second Table of the Divine Law, — Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. In these words He sanctions a like vigilant regard for our own happiness and for that of others. But it has been said, why not regard the social or benevo- lent affections as derived principles, as built up out of the selfish principles, through education and a calculation of con- sequences ? We answer, — 1. Because, in inferior animals, they are evidently original and instinctive, and if so in them, why not in human kind ? for the parental instinct (to take an example) seems to be as necessary in the one as in the other. 2. Because an affection built'on mere calculation would be unequal to the sudden and almost superhuman efforts and sacrifices to which we are called. A parent, for instance, if he were to reason on mere consequences to himself, might well doubt whether such efforts as he readily and cheerfully makes in behalf of children, were incumbent on him, for they go sometimes to the length of almost entire self-sacrifice for the good of the beloved object, and all, on the selfish theory, for what? A most doubtful result. The child may live only to be an idiot or a monster of deformity. He may be profli- gate and godless, and bring the gray hairs of his father and mother in sorrow and shame to the grave. The outlay of trouble is certain, the return most uncertain. 3. Because these benevolent affections possess and master those to whom they can bring no ultimate gain. Is a child 17^ THE THREE WITNESSES. loved, watched over, cherished, only by its mother ? Those who can get nothing, who have nothing from it or through it, are they, therefore, indifferent to its welfare ? Look at the chamber in which it makes its entry on life ! It is there the only mourner, — all eyes beam with hope, all hearts swell with joy and thanksgiving that a child is born into the world. If they rcficcted, they might pause, doubtful whether moral existence, with all its tremendous hazards and responsibilities, be indeed a blessing to the agent himself, or to those charged with the momentous trust of rearing him from weakness to manhood. But tluy do not reflect. They are possessed by that which outruns reflection, and compels them, in spite of themselves, to be the helpless stranger's friend and protector. It is armed with a power which far surpasses that of the most absolute Prince, — the power, the irresistible might of zveak- ness and want. All hearts bow.* The rugged features of passion or vice relax. The brute of a father who, in his drunken fury, can strike a wife or mother, can he strike yonder sleeping innocent ? The harp of Orpheus did not work such wonders in transforming savage beasts as are wrought by this unconscious little one. How all wants are anticipated, all dangers warded off, though at the expense of long nights of watching and long days of toilsome ministry! How the first smile is waited for, and what joy sheds its sun- shine over the hearts of mother, sister, nurse, when that signal * A beautiful and touching evidence of the power of weakness and innocence over the most rugged heart is mentioned by one of the British admirals who, a few years since, visited the small and defenceless community that has sprung up in Pitcairn's Island, in the Pacific, descendants of the few mutineers of the ship Bounty, who settled there : " The islanders depended principally for their necessary supplies on the whal- ing-ships,— they are generally American. Greatly to their credit, they behave in the most exemplary manner, very different from what I expected. One rough seaman, whom I spoke to in praise of such conduct, said, ' Sir, I expect if one of our fellows was to misbehave himself here we should not leave him alive.' These people are guileless and unsophisticated beyond conception." THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 377 of an awakening soul, that first dawning of an endless intel- lectual day, bursts upon the view ! Yes, a soul, rational, spiritual, immortal, has been put in charge, perhaps, of hire- lings,— perhaps of a foster-mother, who has this hope of some family for hours and days together by herself, — and yet the parents, the friends, rest securely, for they know that the common Father of all has taken care that that duty shall not be neglected. He has lodged in that nurse's heart a better guarantee than the hope of wages, or the fear of detection and disgrace; even an awakening love and compassion for her charge, that make him to her, — a what? — merely a young animal, like a kitten, a lamb ? Is that all the tenderness she feels for this child, or is there not a mysterious, undeveloped consciousness that that animal form is but the casket of a priceless jewel, even the soul, and that she must be propor- tionably vigilant and careful ? There are, then, bene%>olcnt as well as self-regarding in- stincts* in man, and in both does the Maker of man show forth his Benignity : in the one, by making us provident of the enjoyment of those with whom we are in any social relation ; in the other, by making us not less considerate of our own. But, some one may say, are there not malevolent principles or instincts in Human Nature, instincts that inspire us with ill will towards others, and prompt us to make them the victims of our cruelty? Is there not anger? Is there not revenge ? Are there not envy, hatred, malice, and all unchari- tableness ? We answer that most of these are not original sentiments; they are not instinctive principles of Human Nature. Envy is the flagrant exaggeration of a legitimate and beneficent principle, that oi Emulation, just as Hatred and Revenge are abuses of Anger and Resentment. To take the two last as a specimen, when they are designated as malcvo- * The one we have noticed is but an example of all that class that have the immediate good of others for their end and aim. 3/8 THE THREE WITNESSES. lent, the common mistake is committed of confounding the legitimate 2ise with the perhaps more prevalent abuse of a principle. Neither Anger nor Resentment is necessarily or properly vindictive. They are punitive or prevetitive. They imply displeasure at a deed; but that displeasure, though ever so strong, may be compatible with kindness and good will towards him who did the deed. A child grossly misbe- haves, the parent is offended and chastises it; does it follow that he wishes ill to the child; that he inflicts the suffering with pleasure ; that he gloats delighted over the spectacle of his writhing body, his mortified and terrified spirit? Far from it ; he often strikes the blow or imposes the restraint with the deepest reluctance, and only because he feels that the blind impulse of his affections must give way before the claims of justice, and before high considerations for his child's perma- nent welfare. And here we see the proper office of Anger and Resent- ment in the social system. They are defensive principles. The active desires and appetites urge us to get enjoyment, — the defensive, to protect that enjoyment against the encroach- ments of others, or to recover it when wrested away. Anger stands as an advance-guard, to anticipate and prevent an attack. The fear of rousing it often holds men back from wrong and outrage, which they might otherwise commit in spite of the protests of their benevolent or moral feelings. Resentment, less sudden but more deliberative, survives to keep alive a sense of the injury we have received, till we ob- tain by rightful means the redress due not more to us than to the great interests of society. The same feeling prompts us to come in aid of the weak when oppressed, and helps to rec- oncile us to that infliction of suffering which all punishment implies, but which we should often recoil from, with deep and invincible repugnance, if left to the guidance of nothing but our sympathies and social affections. That these principles are peculiarly liable to abuse we THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 3-rQ readily admit, and that abuse is most prevalent we admit also; but for this the responsibility rests not on man's Maker, but on himself. Second. The next fact to which we would ask attention is that each of these affections has a twofold office, — the selfish operating not only directly to the advantage of the agent, but also indirectly to the benefit of others, {a) Take, for example, the love of approbation. It leads a man, through industry, through science, through professional labor, to reputation. But what kind of efforts must he apply? Precisely those, in a large proportion of cases, which most benefit others, society, the world. He must be, or at least he must appear to be (and, so far as our argument is concerned, it is the same thing), honest, temperate, prudent. If he be a student, he must discover or illustrate valuable truths. In every walk of life he must be kind, must take care of his family, must have some public spirit. What would we think of a man who undertook to win approbation by being openly and avowedly licentious, unjust, oppressive, cruel, ignorant, useless? True, im- postors often get honor, but it is only through hypocrisy, — "the homage which vice pays to virtue," — or because the splendor of their achievements, the talent which they imply, or the magnificent results which they secure, blind us for the moment to the true character of the actor. {b) On the other hand, take a benevolent affection, such as pity for the wretched. Here is a man who is impelled (we will admit, for the sake of argument) alojte by this one sentiment, — not, what shall I eat, or what shall I drink, but to how many of the sons or daughters of sorrow can I serve as eyes for the blind and feet for the lame, — from how many cheeks can I wipe away tears, — how many hearts can I cause to sing aloud for joy? Is such a one a minister of good only to others ? Does he get none to himself? Is there not such a luxury as the luxury of pitying and relieving ? Compare it with the luxury of doing evil, inflicting suffering, if such a 380 THE THREE WITNESSES. luxury there be. Which spreads most sunshine over the heart, warms and cheers it most, loving or hating? We have heard of hating cordially ; but we much doubt if it be a cordial to the heart which hates. The world, judging alike through observation and consciousness, has told us what this viper does to the bosom where it is cherished. Rankles, festers, — these are the words that describe alike truly and forcibly its reflex influence upon the minds that harbor it. Again, does he get no happiness from the gratitude — too deep, perhaps, for words, too deep, it may be, for tears — of those he succors ? Again, does it win him no friends, — not among the objects of his beneficence only, but among all who are spectators of it ? — none who are impatient to serve him ? — none who, in the day of his adversity, will work for him and plead for him ? Let politicians and demagogues beware of him whose heart beats warmly and strongly with love to his kind, and, above all, with pity for the suffering. Without knowing it, he has adopted a line of policy, a system of tactics, more compre- hensive and more potent than theirs ; and unless they are on the alert, unless they affect to be as he is, and even more, he may chance to be preferred before them. Certain it is that the people, if left to themselves, would be violently inclined to take him by force and make him a king, and they would be slow of their own mere motion to make any one a king who did not .wear something of his likeness. Think of men honoring and cherishing a bold, bad man, who glories in his wickedness, who exults in being selfish, unprincipled, profligate, sensual/ [c) But, again, there are principles of a mixed character, partly self-seeking, partly self-imparting. Of this nature, as we con- ceive it, is the desire of gain. We cannot agree with most writers on Political Economy, in regarding this as a mere desire to get something for ourselves, — an assumption which rests at the bottom of their theories, and has contributed not a little THE SOUL A WITNESS TO DIVINE BENEVOLENCE. 381 to impart a harsh and narrow character to many of their con- clusions. When a man labors for gain, does he think only of himself? — nothing of his family, to be supported or edu- cated or established? — nothing of his friends, to be entertained? — nothing of giving to him that lacketh?. — nothing of being useful in his day? Men have, doubtless, very different motives ; with some the motives are very sordid; yet we take, as it seems to us, a most partial view of human nature if we do not recog- nize the existence generally of some of the elements which we have mentioned in addition to that which is purely selfish or self-regarding. As a mixed principle, look at this desire of gain, — first on its rational and secondly on its instinctive side. On the first it urges towards an increase of the possessions of one ; on the second, towards a course, in order to this end, which must conduce to increase the possessions and the comforts of others. A gainful calling, if it be an honest one, does not enrich A by impoverishing B and C. It does not merely transfer from one pocket to another. While it brings profits to the capitalist, it distributes wages among all the laborers and agents. While the laborer, by his industry, puts money into his own purse, he helps also to put money into the purses of all who co-operate with him, whether as artisans or proprietors ; for value once created can hardly serve one person without serving others ; so that while the agent may think only of gain to himself, he is made an unconscious, but effectual, instrument of blessing to others. Take the supply of food for a great city. What a problem, if it were worked out by human wisdom ! How easy when solved by Divine foresight through the same instinctive love of gain ! Third. Consider how these principles vary in their force and form with emergencies. E.g. The parental instinct is dormant, perhaps, or more, in a poor or fashionable family. But a child is born. Is it neglected? 382 THE THREE WITNESSES. One child of many is sick or lost. Do not all thoughts and affections cluster about it? They leave the ninety 2L\\dL nine and go after that which is ill or astray. The child grows older, — needs different treatment; the instinct varies, until, at length, he is a man. The father no longer supports, but is supported ; the instinct is not dead, as it would be in animals, for it is needed — needed for the child, needed for the parents. By-and-by it takes a new form. Grandchildren are born, perhaps in the same house. How instinctively does the sen- timent adapt itself, and what a blessing! — To the old, {a) to enliven and cheer, {b) to enable them to live over their own childhood — the pleasures of memory and the pleasures of hope, {c) to keep a warm place and warm hearts for them when otherwise their welcome might wear out. Old, queru- lous, feeble, a burden, perhaps, in one sense, — they present their appeal: i, as benefactors once; 2, as dependents now; 3, as friends and companions to the little ones. To the children. What friends so salutary as the old, with their experience, their chastened views of life, their large fund of anecdote, — a little wandering and prolix, but just the thing for a child, — their calmness of spirit, now that the toils of life are over, their returning faith in God ! Suppose men were born in full maturity, and died so ; no childhood, no old age, no youth, but all manhood ! CHAPTER IV. THE SOUL A WITNESS TO THE BENEVOLENCE OF GOD. WE offer a few additional illustrations of Divine Benevo- lence derived from the constitution of the human mind, premising that in illustrating the Benevolence of God we illustrate also, as I have said, his Wisdom and his Power, since we do not adduce laws and adaptations that are merely- tentative, but those that have been, as our own consciousness and experience proclaim, most triumphantly achieved. In contemplating them we behold at once the Goodness that conceived, the Wisdom that arranged, and the Power that executed. We appeal especially to phenomena presented by our nature in its ordinary state, and when directed by the com- bined action of its native instincts and capabilities on the one hand and of surrounding circumstances on the other. To resume : 3. Consider the variable character of all our powers and sus- ceptibilities through which their intensity proportions itself to the emergencies of the agent. In the language of mathe- matics, these principles are not constants, but variables. We have already seen that this is the case with the parental in- stinct, and have noticed some of the results of a law which thus secures that one most powerful element of our active nature should lie dormant, or be aroused to irrepressible energy, or otherwise modify its action, according to the de- mands upon it. Were such a power to have full play when there was no occasion for it, it would be a torment; and so if it were to direct the same sort of treatment or affection towards a son or daughter of mature age as towards the 384 THE THREE WITNESSES. infant in the cradle. Such modifications, observe, are not the result merely of deliberative effort on the part of the parent, but are in a great measure instinctive. Now, observe how the same law holds in respect to our other powers. Take, for instance, Desire, and mark how it varies with the obstacles which arise in the way of its reaching its object. A child preferring a request to a parent, may be met with a feeble objection, with a hesitating refusal, or with a peremptory negative, — the last known, by the child's expe- rience, to be unalterable. In the first two cases, a desire, faint at first, is excited and exasperated ; in the last, it is forth- with, and almost entirely, extinguished. Or, to take another instance, David prays, and fasts, and mourns while the child lies sick, but arises, washes his face, and calls for meat when the child is dead, — a touch of the sacred historian, which shows how far the truth of the Bible transcends the compass of ordinary invention. A writer of fiction would have been likely to think, with the servants of David, that his appro- priate course, when the child died, the course which his former conduct would seem to dictate, would be to refuse all comfort and renounce all food. But the deep desire of the king's heart, that the child should live, was now paralyzed, because gratification had become impossible. Nature, in her truth and simplicity, taught him to act a part which no tame composer of a fictitious history would be likely to conceive, and hence in this, as in many other instances, we see intrinsic evidence that the sacred narrative is true. Here, then, is a great principle : slight iinpediments inflame desire ; insurmoimtable impediments repress and all but extin- guish it. And is not the final cause obvious and most benig- nant ? Man was made to attain to inward excellence, to out- ward good, and to satisfymg happiness through effort; and the greater the effort, within due limitations as to the object and the degree, the greater the blessings compassed. Did slight impediments extinguish desire, hardly any efforts would THE SOUL A WITNESS TO GOD'S BENEVOLENCE. 385 be made. Did insurmountable efforts inflame it, the mightiest efforts would be expended on the most unattainable object-s. But by the law, as it now stands, both evils are avoided, and the highest benefits secured. Desire rising with the effort required, such effort is thereby made more easy, and almost superhuman strength is put forth, not only without pain, but often with the most exquisite pleasure. Let this law teach us that " difficulties are, indeed, our helpers."* Let it teach us how greatly we err when in training the young or serving those we love we strive to withdraw all obstacles from their onward way, thus condemning their desires to languish, their active powers to stagnate, and their hearts to pine and sicken for appropriate stimulus. This variable character of our emotions — a variableness through which they carefully adjust themselves to our wants — may be seen, again, in Fear. At the beginning, fear is an alarm-gun. It acts upon us with explosive force, and the first impulse we feel is \.o fiy. But the thought arises, that the dan- ger we thus shun may be less than that into which we shall rush, if we become fugitives, — danger, perchance, to our per- sons, perchance to our reputation or our virtue, perchance to the lives or well-being of those we fondly love. Hence fear is, in a measure, repressed. From flying, it puts us upon averting the impending evil. Reason suggests and weighs means. Some of them are adopted. And then the will hastens, under the influence of fear and hope, to apply them. How soon are the thoughts and designs of the mind en- grossed in the use of these means ! Fear, as a principle of terror, paralyzing or urging only to flight, disappears, and we come by degrees almost to relish, sometimes even to exult in, the danger which was at first so appalling. But, look again : the die is cast, the battle is lost, the ship sinks, the doom of bankruptcy is sealed, and then, fear resuming its earlier char- * Burke. 25 386 THE THREE WITNESSES. acter, our main impulse is not to master, but to avoid, the dan- ger. Or there may be cases in which the helplessness of terror may be for us the best and safest state of mind, and then how quickly does it manifest itself! For instance, a hunter in the grasp of a tiger is safer making no resistance, no effort even to fly, seeming as if dead, than in any other way. Need we dwell on the beneficence of these arrangements ? Take, again, one or two instances of the operation of this law from the Intellectual part of our Constitution, and mark the variations which characterize different periods of life. Take, First, Memory, which displays the Benevolence of the Cre- ator, by its general propensity to shun the painful and to dwell only on the pleasant in our past experience. This pro- pensity operates without check in childhood, thus securing that the retrospective acts of the mind shall at that era be mainly a source of enjoyment. In manhood and middle life memory has a different office than that of merely supply- ing enjoyment or collecting materials for fancy and imagina- tion. The mind has to battle with difficulties by the light of experience, and that experience will be a safe and salutary guide in proportion as it avails itself of the mistakes and the sins of the past ; and hence, at this period, the scenes which pass spontaneously before the mind are of a more mixed and subdued character, — the spectres of our former errors and offences, with their consequent sufferings, come unbidden across our path, and point, as if with monitory hand, towards a better road. But how is it when manhood declines into old age ? Memory leaves the painful of the past, in a great measure, and settles down on the morning, the springtime of life. It has now less need of painful remembrances to be its guide and monitor. The time for action has mostly passed, the time for submission and patient waiting has come, and the old live over again the sunny days of their childhood and youth. THE SOUL A WITNESS TO GOD'S BENEVOLENCE. 38; The reason is plain. Memories so closely linked with feeling and with bright fancies are imperishable, and hence the fact, so familiar to us all, that while recent events are soon forgotten, those that belong to our early years are the last to fade away. And is not the provision a most benignant one? — benignant as making the old more happy, — as contributing, too, to im- prove them by leading them to that which was the most un- sophisticated and uncorrupted period of their life, — as making them also more pleasant and more useful companions for the young ? One other use we cannot but advert to as entitled to our special notice. The old thus become the faithful chroniclers of t/ie umurittcn past. Did events appear obscure in proportion to their remoteness, the old would not be such valuable links between the past and the future as they now are, preserving and transmitting faithfully, as their last act, materials which may be invaluable as evidence in law or in history. They hand it over, too, to those who will live longest, who hear it with the greatest interest, and through whom it will be most sure to pass on again to children's children. In this way each link in the chain of traditionary evidence of unwritten history is nearly equal to the duration of three generations. Or, turn to Imagmatioii, — in childhood providing a mental gymnasium, — supplying to the soul the same unfailing spring of activity that nervous sensibility supplies to the body. The more various, and, we had almost said, the more extravagant its earliest creations, the better for the soul's development, just as creeping and walking and running are better for the child than being carried in arms or drawn in a carriage. Hence the folly of parents and nurses who get expensive toys, thus replacing the spontaneous fabrications of a child's fancy, and the consequently ever-var}ang activities of his system, by too much aid or guidance. The child, even more than the man, was intended to be the artificer of his own happiness, and the livelong day he will amuse himself if we give him but a few 2 88 THE THREE IVITNEfiSES. blocks, strings, and sticks, with a free range in pure air and open field. In youth Imagination has a still higher office, — even that of setting before us the attractions and rewards of some active pursuit. In middle age it conceives new plans, aid^ in select- ing the materials for their accomplishment, and carries us ever onwards beyond the present to something better in the com- ing time. In old age, if it have a Christian's faith, it gives one hand to painting with mellow radiance the rest that re- maineth for God's people, and with the other it casts bright hues over the distant past, over boyhood and youth, over the companions, the sports, the parents, the humble, perhaps, but not unhonored or unlamented home of life's gayest, hap- piest hours. Beneficent arrangement! which makes the young say, " To-morrow shall be as to-day, and much more abundant," — the middle-aged to whisper to themselves, " Boast not thy- self of to-morrow," — and the old, "The former days were bet- ter than these," rendering the first laudatorcs tcviporis agcndi, the last, laudatorcs tcmporis acti ; causing the one to be pro- phets of good both to themselves and to the world, the other to serve as monitors of evil to come, and historians of a good which is good no longer. There is in one sense illusion, but it is illusion compensating its own aberrations ; to the young a constant stimulus and cordial, to the aged a remuneration for disappointments and sorrows. Look, again, to the iiniting affections, — those which urge us to form the domestic tie and the tie that binds together fnends. How they adjust themselves, without forecast or arrangement of ours, to the various spheres in which they are called to act ! In early youth, a confidential friend, not of our own imme- diate family, is a great blessing, — almost a necessity. When we reach maturity of life, a union in marriage between those of different sexes is necessary, in order to lay the foundation of that domestic society wliich is the great source, support, and ornament of all other societies, — fruitful parent of a large THE SOUL A WITNESS TO GOD'S BENEVOLENCE. 389 proportion of our best blessings. And what is the nature of the affections ? They see, in part, through the medium of the Imagination. They fasten early upon some object and invest it with attractions not properly its own, and hence the closest and most unreserved youthful friendships are formed. Hence marriage becomes not only possible, but the great want and hope of life. Hence parties who, did they see each other with cold, calculating, or scrutinizing eyes, would never venture each to intrust the other with their happiness, eagerly join hands in that holy alliance for better or for worse, which nothing but death ought to dissolve. These charms gradually disappear, perhaps, but they are replaced by others of a milder and more steadfast hue. We do not cease to love our wives or husbands because we discover that they are not abso- lutely perfect. We see in them the parents of our children, — the partners of our joys and sorrows, — objects of care and tenderness to us as we are of care and tenderness to them. We know that their welfare, and the welfare of those dear alike to both, depend on our union being perpetuated in peace and love ; and thus we exchange for the gay illusions of our first love, the sober, salutary illusion of a permanent habitual affection. There is still illusion, but no deception. The object of our affection does not appear to us as to an unconcerned and critical spectator. We look with our heart as well as with our understanding. We look as we were in- tended to look. Objects of pure science are to be viewed with intellect alone, objects of taste through taste enlightened by reason, and objects of affection through affection sobered by the same faculty. Nor is the illusion such as to occasion actual deception. We know full well that our mother, sister, wife, though beautiful to us, may be positively plain, or even ugly, to a stranger. The illusion we experience is like that which overspreads us when we witness a dramatic repre- sentation,— the more pleasant that we know it to be, in one sense, the creation of our own minds, and that it can be 3QO THE THREE WITNESSES. enjoyed without endangering our welfare or the welfare of others. So with the other sex. It would argue ill for the marriage union did not woman carry all through life her deep sense of affection and her power of casting over the husband, for whom she is ready to sacrifice everything, a corresponding halo of goodness and worth. But I pass to another principle, which seems to be com- pounded in part from those already noticed, viz. : 2. The power which the whole mind has (corresponding with that possessed by each faculty) of bringing about a mutual adjustment between itself and the place in which it is permanently established. The fact is familiar to us that hap- piness is to be found everywhere, — in wealth and poverty, in rank and servitude, under polar skies and on equinoctial sands. The mind is, in one sense, its own place ; it can surround itself with materials of contentment — even of enjoyment — in any sphere. And this is not merely the result of the passive power in the mind, — the power of acquiescing in what is. Were that the only element, life would be too stationary. Im- provement would be impossible, whether for the individual or for society. There is an active power which strives to effect the adjustment, in the first place, not by bending our wills, tastes, and habits, but by bending the wills and habits of others, and by mastering and subduing the powers of nature. Hence a struggle takes place, unless early training and habit have al- ready superinduced a conformity in the mind. That struggle is the fruitful source of good to the individual and to the world. But when, at length, it is seen to be a struggle in vain, we come under the law that insurmountable impedi- ments lessen or extinguish des.ire. We call upon our forti- tude, our patience. We look for reasons to reconcile us to our lot. We become engaged and interested in what is prac- ticable. And life becomes not only possible, but pleasurable everywhere, — in Lapland, in Middle Africa, among the Esqui- THE SOUL A WITNESS TO GOD'S BENEVOLENCE. 301 maux, where the cold freezes mercury, and among the Hot- tentots. The country of each is, in the estimation of each, a paradise, and there is contentment and enjoyment, though, according to the true standard, we can hardly say there is happiness. 3. The next law which we would mention is most signifi- cant of Divine Benevolence. It is the law that those senti- ments and that state of mind which are most conducive to permanent good, as %v ell for the agent as for others, are to a well-regulated mind also most pleasurable at the time. God seems to give us a bounty for consenting to be happy our- selves, and to act as instruments of happiness to those about us. All along the path that leads to our ultimate and greatest good He strews flowers and gives music, that we may thereby be induced to take it. For example, Hope, which is always needed, is always pleasant, always a cordial to the heart. Fear, which is needed occasionally, and for a brief space, is painful. The benevolent affections are more pleasant than the selfish, and yet more so when compared with the malevo- lent or defensive. Mental pleasures are more delightful than animal, because — i, they do not exclude rt///w«/ pleasures ; 2, they greatly heighten them. There is even more organic pleasure in eating and drinking, for those whose minds are pleasantly occupied, than for the man who, having neither knowledge nor thought, is but an animal. So of odors, so of sexual appetite, so yet more of the higher pleasures of the eye and ear. CHAPTER V. THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. WE discuss this Divine Attribute here with the aid, mainly, of Psychology, and we shall confine our re- marks, for the most part, to the Moral Constitution of man ; premising, — That we do not present our views here, or elsewhere in this work, as if they were exclusively or pre-eminently im- portant, or as if the fate of Religion depended on their accept- ance. We can explore but a small part of the great field of Evidence, — of that part we can present only specimens. Should any fallacies be perpetrated in our expositions, let them be charged to the advocate, not to the cause. It is the fate of many a client, with a good cause, to entrust the conduct of it to incompetent counsel ; but it is no less the duty of en- lightened and impartial judges to look beyond Ids mistakes to the true merits and facts of the case. Happy is it for Religion that its practical interests do not depend solely nor even mainly on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God ! Through the medium of our instinctive and deep-seated feelings and convictions on the one hand, and of our experience on the other, it is provided that Religion, as a great Interest coming home to the business and bosoms of men, shall ever com- mand at least a nominal homage. Our special object is to vindicate the reasonableness of religious faith to those who insist on surveying it through Reason ; who demand scientific grounds for its great principles ; who insist that it shall be (392 ) 1 THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 3^^ subjected to the scrutiny of logical tests ; and who justly distinguish between Religion as a duty to be discharged or a sentiment to be felt, and Theology as a science to be investi- gated and established by proof. We remark, further, that in speaking of the moral constitn- tion of man, we shall endeavor to shun speculations merely theoretical. This part of our nature has given rise to much discussion among Psychologists and Ethical Philosophers ; and the analysis of it is still incomplete. But there are cer- tain great facts and laws which are obvious to all, and in respect to which Epicurus and Zeno, Aristotle and Plato, Locke and Leibnitz, Paley and Butler, with their disciples, might agree, differ though they should as to the explanation of those facts. Occasionally and inadvertently we may use the language of that which we hold to be the true theory ; but the acceptance of that theory is no necessary condition to the reception of the arguments which we shall have occasion to urge. One assumption, and but one, we shall be obliged to make, and this is, that man has a moral nature, as distin- guished from that which is intellectual, sensitive, aesthetical, etc. Without this we should have no basis for the particular argument we shall insist upon in this connection ; nor, as it seems to us, should we, but for possessing such a nature, be able to form any conception of the moral nature of God Himself, — of the Holiness which leads Him to promote the moral well-being of his creatures as distinguished from the Benevolence which urges Him to provide for their simple enjoyment. Our moral )ialuf e presents two leading powers or functions : — I. The power of discerning moral distinctions. 2. The power of feeling moral emotions. Each one of these reflects the Holiness of God. \. The discerning power. There is, in the human mind, a notion of moral right and moral wrong. When we look at the voluntary actions of our fellow-men, we are conscious of 3Q4 THE THREE WITNESSES. perceiving in many of them* a quality wholly dififcrent from their propriety or gracefulness, or even profitableness, which we call their moral quality. This quality is designated by the term right or wrong, good or bad, virtuous or vicious; and we express our sense of the moral relation in which the agent stands to the action by saying that he oiight or he ought not to have done it. Such language we never apply to the conduct of an animal. That there is something more in such actions than their mere tendency to promote or obstruct our advan- tage, is obvious from the fact that we all conceive of actions which might be profitable and yet not right, or right and yet not profitable. We admit that, on the whole, if we include others as well as ourselves, and the life to come as well as the life present, actions which are right will be ultimately useful. But yet we can conceive it to have been otherwise. To the individual acting it often is otherwise in this world. The con- currence of the two properties in the same action proves nothing of the one being the cause of the other ; and even if they do stand in that relation, it might be impossible for us to discriminate the effect from the cause. Be it observed, too, that this concurrence or coincidence of utility and virtue in the same action is slowly discovered and reluctantly and doubtfully admitted by men. Take the lowest form of the truth, "Honesty is the best policy" and how prone mankind are to question it! For this life, how many excep- tions are there to it ! How often are men honest in spite of altogether distrusting the policy of being so! And were we assured that the most upright men we know were upright only because they acted on this maxim, should we still honor them, honor them above all others, adorn them with the lofty epithets o{ pure, honorable, or even honest? Cunning, shrewd, sagacious would, in such case, be our chosen terms of praise. * An action, to be the proper object of this power, must be, — i. Voluntary. 2. Performed by an agent capable of reflecting. 3. Accordant or discordant in respect to some known relation. I THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 395 {a) Observe the nniveisality of this power. All of our race, except idiots and madmen, have it. It appears earlier in children than almost any other power, and appears under circumstances which clearly prove that there is a predisposition to the form- ing of moral notions. In all nations, as appears from their languages, and in all ages, these distinctions have been made, more or less imperfectly. Where the imperfection is greatest, there, as travellers among the most benighted heathen testify, is an aptitude — a proclivity for better and clearer conceptions — which only waits a fitting opportunity to manifest itself It applies, also, to all the mental states of such individuals. Of some, it pronounces that they have no moral quality ; of others, that they are right or wrong, according to circum- stances ; of others, that they are invariably and eternally right or wrong. It pronounces not only on the active but also on the passive states of the soul, decides when they are criminal, and in what degree, and this teaches us to anticipate the doom of the unprofitable servant, if we follow his example. It pronounces, also, of actions which terminate on our- selves and affect only our own happiness, declaring, for in- stance, that he who trifles with his own happiness is not a madman merely, but a criminal ; that he deserves not only com- passion and contempt as a fool, but indignant scorn as a faith- less steward, who has impiously thrown away what has been confided to his care, and what was intended at once for his enjoyment and his improvement, as well as for the benefit of others. It extends its jurisdiction, too, above mankind. It feels that it could judge angels, archangels, God. Why are we arguing the question whether God be indeed holy? Do we not thereby assume that we are able to form conceptions of his character by some standard without Himself? And, if the Bible is true and divine, He recognizes both our ability and our right to do this. "Are not my ways equal ? are not your ways unequal ?" saith the Lord. And what does this indicate, — the possession of such a 596 THE THREE WITNESSES. power by man, — a power so high in itself, so aspiring in its office and aims, so pecuHar in its nature? Does it not point to the existence of a corresponding power in God ? " lie that teacheth man knowledge, shall He not know?" {U) Observe, again, \\\& fallihUity of this power. Like Rea- son and Taste, Conscience, or the moral sense, always makes distinctions, but it does not always make them correctly. Like them, too, it can be educated upward to a much higher per- fection, or downward to a lower fallibility; and this educa- tion is partly from without and partly self-derived. We can- not too carefully distinguish between absolute and relative virtue, — between meaning vjeW and doing well. As we can do wrong with a good intention, so we can do good with an evil intention. The intention determines the moral character of the agent, but not that of the aetion. The resolving of all virtue into the subjective condition, into the motive or feeling in the mind, is dangerous, unfriendly to all improvement in character and to all steadiness in action. This was the radi- cal vice of Rousseau's philosophy. It has been adopted by those of much nobler aims, such as the late Dr. Thomas Brown, of Edinburgh, and it disfigures many of the admirable pictures of Mr. Dickens. But what is to be inferred honorable to God, it may be asked, from this imperfection in man? We answer, in the first place, let the objector prove that it is an imperfection. If man's present state be one of trial and discipline, this fallibility of conscience is no imperfection, but a necessary prerequisite. Unerring and infallible moral judg- ments pertain to a state that is fixed, not to one that is con- tingent; and God displays his Holiness in endowing us with the capacity for arriving gradually at such judgments, and then charging us with the responsibility of using or abusing it. It proclaims to us the fearful alternative which we have before us, — a conscience progressive or retrogressive, — in the one case increasing our virtue and worth in exact proportion THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 307 with the growth of our powers and our responsibilities ; in the other case deteriorating ahke our character and our powers, but not lessening our responsibility. 2. This fallibility of conscience raises our minds from the imperfection of our own moral nature, which we feel and de- plore, to the perfection of a Holiness which cannot err, thus adding to our reverence for God, and urging us to strive after assimilation to his perfect moral character. 3. It may lead us to consider that since morality has to our minds its objective as well as its subjective side, it may have the same to God. " If God were to command us to hate Himself, hatred to God would be our duty," was the language of Occam. Abhorrent as such language may be to our deepest convictions and sentiments, it has often been the language of philosophy, falsely so called. Why should there not be an inumitablc or necessary morality, as well as a necessary and immutable Geometry? No modern writer has vindicated this fundamental truth so copiously and powerfully as Cudworth. 4. This imperfection of conscience also teaches us why the Creator's demands on men, on individuals, and on nations should be progressive, corresponding with the progress of light and of moral power. We come now to — II. The emotional pozver o{ conscience. We say conscience merely for the sake of convenience. We care not though it be held to be a secondary principle in hu- man nature, instead of being a primitive and irreducible one. We only contend that there is a power of discerning moral distinctions, and of being affected by the corresponding emo- tion. When we perceive an action, be it our own or another's, and judge it to be right, we feel approval and pleasure, just as when we discern an evil action we experience an emotion of displeasure ; and this emotion is vivid and powerful in pro- portion as the moral quality is present in higher or lower de- gree. Thus, paying an honest debt excites less approbation 398 rilE THREE WITNESSES. than making a donation to the poor ; such donation, less than a generous act towards an enemy; and even such an act, less than extending full pardon to one who had greatly wronged us. And does not the possession of this sensibility, on our part, point to the existence of one corresponding, but infinitely higher, in God ? Is not the author of such a moral sensi- bility likely to be angry with the wicked every day? Shall crime move our displeasure so intensely and leave Him un- moved ? Cons'xdQv \he. variations in this moral emotion: — i. We look on the actions of those distant in time or place, or we read his- torical accounts of them, and feel, in some measure, approba- tion or disapprobation. This feeling, too, is not entirely pas- sive. It prompts us to imitate or to avoid. It also inclines us, as we read, to call up the dead or the distant for trial, thus foreshadowing the great Assize. 2. We look at the actions of those who are near, and our approbation or disapprobation is at once more intense and of more active character. Before an action, it prompts us to in- terpose, in order to aid or obstruct it ; afterwards, it urges us to reward or to punish it ; and it thus contributes, most materially, to deal out retribution to actions as they transpire in this world, {a) directly, and {b) indirectly by leading us to uphold law and demand its righteous administration. 3. We survey our own actions before and after they are per- formed, and are visited by corresponding emotions. If we have done right, we not only applaud ourselves, we know that others applaud us, and in that applause we seem to hear a prelude to the " Well done" of Him who is God over all, and who is to be our righteous Judge at last. If we have done evil, we not only condemn ourselves, we know that others condemn us, and are ready to be the instru- ments of our punishment. Hence we fear and tremble, and then the soul whispers to itself, " If thine own heart condemn thee, and if every heart like thine own condemns and would THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 399 punish thee, then consider that God is greater than thy heart, and knoweth all things." These different phases of our moral sensibility seem to point distinctly to the pleasure or displeasure, more intense than we can think, with which God looks on moral actions, to the Holiness which urges Him to encourage only the good and to frown on the evil, and which employs these moral sen- timents in our hearts as so many means through which we become, in respect to one another, executioners of his justice. DEFECTIBILITY OF CONSCIENCE. We should consider also the Defectibility of this emotional power in conscience. As the discerning power is fallible, so the emotional power is dcfectible. It may fail to feel the emo- tions which properly belong to the action or feeling; it may fail to be properly influenced by them. To approve the better and follow the worse is a familiar case, and it is a case in which the discerning and approving power may be faintly ex- erted, but without the necessary impulsive power. Conscience points out the right way, but does not constrain us with suf- ficient force to take that way. There are other cases in which we not only follow the worse, but seem to come by degrees to approve and love it. Pope has attempted a description : — Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, That to be hated, needs but to be seen; But seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. As we propose to examine the defectibility of conscience, for the purpose of showing that it does not compromise the i- Holiness of God, but rather illustrates and exalts it, we will point out wherein, as it seems to us, the statement of Pope may be corrected. In the first place, it is not true that in order to be hated vice or evil needs but to be seen, unless by seeing we under- 400 THE THREE WITNESSES. Stand more than is usually implied by that term. Vice may be seen and yet not be properly considered. It may be con- sidered and yet be surveyed in the light of its accessories, rather than in that which is properly its own. As the young now grow up, how many actions, sanctioned by general cus- tom or by the practice of those whom we love or honor, come to be allowed, and even performed, which are intrinsically wrong, and which will be seen at last to be deplorably evil ! How little is done to draw the attention of the young to the true moral character of a large proportion of their acts! — how little to lead them even to raise the question, " Is this right that I am about to do ?" " Do as others do;" " Do not pro- voke ridicule ;" " Do not affect or expect to be wiser or better than your seniors," — these, in spirit, if not in form, are too often the burden of our moral teaching, while the moral eye and the moral sensibilities are meantime vacant, — gazing care- lessly abroad, and moved by no deep and appropriate sense of what we ought to do. It is with conscience as we have seen it is with the corporeal eye by nature, — it is adjustable, but not adjusted. It needs, more than the corporeal eye, assist- ance and direction from without, to secure that this adjust- ment shall be correct and the functions of the instrument be duly executed. Let parents, teachers, guardians withhold these, and the consequence must be that the rising generation will come insensibly to tolerate and even love much evil with- out ever having hated it at first, and, indeed, without ever having properly observed it. Nothing is more important for the young, and, indeed-, for all, than that the jurisdiction of conscience should be enlarged ; that actions which now pass without consideration should be weighed ; that the moral eye and the moral heart should be always abroad, vigilant in ob- serving and prompt in reporting the true quality of all the visitants within our moral and mental sphere.* How much * Some natures are morljidly sensitive and scrupulous in regard to their actions. They are exceptional cases, of which we do not speak, here. THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. ^qI injustice and unklndness are perpetrated unconsciously! How unsafe for any one to lay to his soul the flattering unction that "all is well" in the kingdom and estate of his heart, be- cause he is not distinctly conscious of doing wrong ! In the second place, it is not true that familiarity with vice leads us always first to endure, then pity, then embrace. It was not so with John Howard, nor with Elizabeth Fry. It shall not be so with any good man who goes among the vicious to serve and reclaim them. His holiness shall be proof against the contagion of their society. Nay, healing power and virtue shall go forth upon him as well as them. Should purity prompt us to keep away from the impure and guilty ? So thought not Christ, though the Scribes and Pharisees did. So thought not God, when He sent his Son into the world, not to condemn it, but that the world through Him might be saved. Holiness prompts rather to intercourse with the wicked, if thereby they can be made holy. It would raise all to its own level, impress on all its own image. Whether contact with, and contemplation of, vice shall corrupt, de- pends, then, wholly on the motive and spirit by which we are actuated. Nor is it true that when men, from contact with vice, do become vicious, they can always be said to embrace it, if by that we mean love it. Some men and some women do evil, all the while hating it, and all the while hating themselves for it, and anxiously desiring to save others from its pollution. It is so with some parents who resign themselves to sin, but who would save their children from the poison of their example. Alas, the self-delusions we practise on ourselves ! For such solicitude in respect to our children and to others we often take praise to ourselves, when, in truth, it pronounces but the more loudly our condemnation. Even when men embrace the vice, and practise it heartily and cordially, is it as vice F Rarely, Passion has concentrated the regards of the mind, perhaps has borrowed the aid of con- 26 402 ^^^^ THREE WITNESSES. science, and we are either unobservant of the moral character of our act or we persuade ourselves that it is right. Like David, we condemn another for injustice much less flagrant than that which we ourselves commit. In respect to our own great sins, conscience may be dormant; but it is only until some Nathan, with a prophet's authority, shall bid it awake, and then it will show itself with all the majesty of a giant re- freshed by sleep. Thus shall many a conscience, now torpid, awake one day ! In other cases, we transmute the apparent character of an act by association. The end is holy ; holy, therefore, we think, must be the means. We do not consider that a worthy end claims that none but worthy means be used in its pursuit. We do not reflect that the means are so many acts, each to be tried by its own intrinsic character, rather than by its ten- dency to promote a certain result. How often do bigots and persecutors delude themselves in this way ! Again. Those that we love, obey, or admire commit the action. How easily is the lustre of their station, accomplish- ments, or virtues transferred to their vices, and made to gild them over with the appearance of innocence or goodness! We tolerate and practise them, not as vices, but as virtues. Even in the most degenerate state of society men do not cease to honor virtue. They honor it then by their hypoc- risy. The fine names they give to their crimes, the high mo- tives by which they profess to be actuated, all proclaim how the wicked shrink from regarding themselves as wholly devoid of goodness. They honor virtue, again, by the ideal homage they render to it in conversation, in the theatre, in reading poetry and fiction. Tears will be shed over ideal excellence or imaginary suffering by those who have no heart for real distress, nor one feeling for the most ordinary duties and charities of life. Nor are they wholly feigned. There is a morbid sentimentality into which men fall, when nothing of actual virtue is left, and it shows how ineffaceable these moral THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 403 lines on the soul are. He who is the bond-slave of vice still loves, at times, to escape from the base actual to a fairer and purer ideal world. There are few men, then, who embrace evil as evil, love it as evil, glorying in their shame. lago might. The Devil does. Hence Milton errs, we think, from the line of Scrip- ture, though most true to ordinary human nature, when he represents Satan as feeling remorse, and shedding even com- punctious tears, as he surveys his companions brought to misery through his guidance. The Devil is everywhere pre- sented to us, in the book of God, as possessed and governed by unmitigated malignity, scorn, and fraud. But even lago and the Devil, when they would influence men to do wrong, must needs play the hypocrite, thus rendering homage to the indestructible power of conscience, and foreshadowing as harbingers the day when it is to awake, and, clothing itself with all its native power and integrity, vindicate by its retri- butions the Holiness of Him whom it honors now even in its apparent aberrations. "Conscience," says Shakspeare, "is a thousand swords." Those swords may sleep, sleep long in their scabbards. But they are not rusted. Occasionally they gleam for an instant fitfully in our eyes, presaging the day when they are to leap forth to their avenging task. Having now touched upon the nature and offices of Con- science, we add one word of the rank it was intended to hold among our other powers and susceptibilities. Should it appear that that rank is the highest, we shall have reason to conclude that in the Divine Mind the Holiness to which con- science points us is also the attribute most sacred and in- violable. Be it observed here that we speak not of the power which Conscience usually possesses, but of that which it v/as in- tended to possess, and shou/d possess, — of its authority, and not its strength, — of its potential or normal prerogative, not of its actual ascendency. 404 THE THREE WITNESSES. 1. That this is supreme would be apparent even from our own consciousness^ which tells us that among our different im- pulses that which points to virtue is the highest. We cannot but feel that the right should ever be preferred before the expedient or the pleasurable. 2. So when we look on others we cannot but feel that the impulses under which they act, whether sensual or sordid, or virtuous or benevolent, are of different degrees of dignity ; that the highest in rank are those which conscience approves most, and that these, though the feeblest in strength, should still command their preference and be first obeyed. 3. When we look retrospectively on our conduct, who ever condemns the right that he has done, or rejoices in the re- membrance of the wrong he has been tempted to commit ? That which he has gained by sin or lost by well-doing, may lead him to doubt the expediency of virtue, but it never leads him to doubt its sacredness and majesty. CHAPTER VL THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. WE shall derive our illustrations in this chapter from cer- tain principles which may be considered as auxiliary to Conscience. In a well-regulated mind, every faculty and af- fection will be made to subserve this purpose ; but it is the special office of those we shall notice to do so. These are, — I. Prudence or Regard to our good on the zvhole. 2. Honor or Regard to what becomes us as men. 3. Our judgment of actions as affected by residts. I. Prudence is a rational principle, prompting us to arbitrate among our appetites, passions, and susceptibilities, so as to educe from them the maximum of enjoyment. It is also a legitimate principle, since to have care for our happiness is both our right and our duty. Is it asked how prudence is auxiliary to conscience ? We answer, by availing itself of the fact that what is right is also, on the zvhole, for 07ir happiness, i. Sometimes we can much more easily ascertain what is right than what is, on the whole, expedient. Then this fact comes in for our encouragement, assuring us that in following the right we shall not only do our duty, but also ultimately gain enjoyment. 2. Sometimes, again, we can better ascertain what is expedient than what is right, as in the case, for instance, of polygamy or adlibitive divorces. Here the expedient, ascertained either by our own experience or by that of the world, becomes the index of the right ; and Prudence aids Conscience by furnishing it, in doubt- ful cases, with both a criterion and a motive. In these cases, the two principles are mutually auxiliary. (405) 4o6 THE THREE WITNESSES. But there is another great and much-neglected fact through which Conscience derives further aid from Prudence. Expe- rience teaches that he is most happy who thinks most of duty and least of enjoyment. Compare a man bent on mere hap- piness, through exemption from care and labor, with him who is bent on doing his duty in that state in which Providence has placed him. Or compare the man of pleasure with the man of high and generous enterprise, or the man of ambition with him of pious and active beneficence. Hence true and enlightened wisdom will consider, " If I devote myself to seek- ing happiness, I shall be likely to miss both happiness and duty ; but if I devote myself to doing right, I shall at once compass the right and the expedient, — the greatest virtue and the greatest felicity." In thus employing the coincidence of virtue and utility, we would guard carefully against the idea, already noticed, that we consider them as identical, or that the one is the ground and reason of the other. Right and utility must have different meanings, otherwise many current propositions (such as "vir- tue is expedient") would be identical and unmeaning. The notions right and useful must be essentially distinct ; other- wise it would be immaterial which of them we made pre- dominant in our active life, whereas we have just seen that it is far from immaterial. The mistake of confounding virtue and utility is the common one of mistaking a final cause for a stated antecedent or philosophical cause. 2. We speak now of that sentiment which we term Regard for the becoming in man. Something tending towards it we see in the sense of delicacy as between the sexes ; in the sense of propriety and neatness as to the person ; in the sense of moral force, which renders it unworthy of us to dread or complain of physical evil. The history of Laura Bridgman shows that all these are instinctive, and I need hardly in- sist that, tending as they do to strengthen chastity, to in- spire consideration for the body, as the shrine of the mind, THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 49/ and for the mind as something better and higher than the ma- terial or animal economy, they are auxiliary to Conscience. We would speak now of what we call the sense of honor,^ and which may be said to be compounded of Self-Respect, Mag- nanijiiitj', and Moral Taste. Its office is to distinguish be- tween dignity and meanness, — to point out what in actions is graceful, noble, and appropriate, and what sordid, mean, and unbecoming. It acts directly, inspiring us with a simple sense of what we owe to ourselves. It acts also indirectly, through a supposed impartial spectator, animated by the same noble- ness of soul, and whose judgment, as being more unbiased, we use to rectify our own. To such a spectator we refer, in im- agination, when we are in solitude ; still more when in society. And the regard we have to it will tame and subdue violent passions much more than considerations merely prudential. Thus, for instance. Anger, repressed from considerations merely selfish, is apt to burst out with accumulated force; whereas anger, cooled down by reflections on what we owe to ourselves, or while conferring really or in imagination with a friend over our grievances, is apt to be effectually tempered and allayed. How this sentiment aids conscience and sets forth Divine Holiness we need hardly say. 3. Another principle or law of our nature may be taken as ' powerfully auxiliary to Conscience. We refer to what, at first view, seems to be a great anomaly in respect to our moral judgments. It is this: we all admit that an agent's char- acter in any case is to be judged of by his motives, and his action by its moral quality determined by the relations in which the agent is placed. Yet an agent whose motives are most benevolent shall receive no praise — nay he shall incur blame — merely because his benevolent plans have failed; while * We speak not here of the conventional sense of honor, which has much more consideration for what is required by the perverted judgment of those in our rank of life than for what is really due to us on any principle of self-esteem or any consideration of the opinion of the good and wise. 4o8 THE THREE WITNESSES. another, whose motives were innocent, shall be adjudged criminal for acts which were casual ; and a third, whose mo- tives might have been positively bad, shall be applauded, be- cause the results of his actions have proved auspicious to himself and to others. This has been ever the complaint of virtue. The tragic interest which invests the story of Qidipus and Jocasta turns on it. It has been thought to impeach the justice of Providence; yet further examination and reflection will teach us not only to acquiesce in the wisdom of this law but to admire its benignity. 1. For, in the first place, success is the only available cri- terion in many cases. We cannot see the hearts of men, and can judge of their intentions only by their acts. The act creates at least a presumption in respect to the motive, which must be rebutted before we assume another and a different one. 2. This arrangement tends to chasten that presumptuous self-confidence which men would feel if they could get glory for their mere designs, rather than for their achievements. Men, too, are not omnipotent, and they should remember it, lest pride intoxicate them, and they miss of success because they do not dread sufficiently the disgrace of failure. 3. It constrains men to that course of action which is no more than duty, but which is too often disregarded, viz., not to attempt that which bears no proportion to their powers, nor in any attempt to neglect the proper means of success or due diligence and care in applying those means. It is well that men should be kept from recklessness in respect to the vicans they adopt to reach even the best end. While we have no respect for an Expediency which would supersede virtue, we honor that wise consideration of consequences which rec- ognizes the duty of hazarding no great end by a bungling or intemperate use of the appropriate means. 4. This law throws a kind of sacredness over the happiness of others. As a soil consecrated in ancient Greece or Rome THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 409 to some god was deemed so holy that intruders, even though ignorant, were regarded as criminal,* so we, if we have in- nocently and unconsciously been the occasion of great harm to another (for example, have taken a life), should feel a quali- fied sense of criminality, and should not content ourselves till we have made all possible reparation. Take, for instance, the benevolent and malevolent affections, — the first need spurring, the other, checking. Were men judged of by their intentions alone, the former would want one strong motive for fulfilling kind and generous purposes, the other, a strong motive to restrain dangerous passions. 5. And finally, where the law does work hardship and ap- parent injustice, it serves to turn our thoughts and hopes towards another and a better distribution of Rewards and Punishments. THE WILL AND THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT. To complete our view of the Moral Constitution of Man, and of the light which it reflects on the Moral Character of the Deity, we notice very briefly : First. The Will, and Secondly. The religions sentiment in Man. I The Will. It is this which gives us personality, being the source of that which we call most properly our own, and in virtue of which we possess and govern ourselves and be- come responsible. The Metaphysical question, so often raised and discussed, in this connection, does not refer to the freedom of our actions but to the freedom of our zvills. Volition is necessarily fol- lowed by the action decreed, unless a force ab extra prevent, in which case we are under a physical, as distinguished from Metaphysical, Philosophical, or Moral necessity. The real issue "■■ Adam Smith's Moral Sentiments, vol. i. 270. 410 THE THREE WITNESSES. is in respect to the connection between the volition and the preceding state of mind commonly called motive. On one side it is held that the volition is determined absolutely by the motive ; on the other, that it is determined absolutely by the agent. The truth here probably lies, as on other ques- tions, not far from the mean. When a certain state of mind is induced, we know by the laws of Psychology that a certain volition will in all probability follow. Were it not so, the conduct of mankind would be regulated by no rule, and cal- culation in regard to it beforehand would become impossible. But though the will may not resist a certain impulse when once it is communicated by our emotions, yet we can foresee the recurrence of those emotions, and by modifying the cur- rent of our thoughts, can either prevent such recurrence alto- gether or can greatly reduce its effect upon the mind. We find our thoughts or footsteps carrying us to the scene of moral danger, — may we not arrest or turn them aside, and thus shun a temptation which we might not be able to resist? Our consciousness proclaims that we can, and our reason de- clares that without such power the actions we are said to perform would not in truth be ours, but would be attributable to a previous condition of mind into which we had been brought by the fixed and uncontrollable laws of our nature. As such they could have no moral character, and could never charge those who perform them with the responsibility of moral agents. There is, then, such a thing as Moral Liberty, and it points distinctly to the existence of Holiness in the Deity, because it proves that He has made man capable of Holiness, while our preceding illustration shows that He has made him to be holy. Could less than Holiness in his own nature have led God to exact Holiness so imperatively from his intelligent creatures ? 2. The religious sentiment in Man. It leads beyond the natural to the supernatural, — beyond the sensible to the super- THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 411 sensible, — beyond the changeable and ever fluctuating to the Eternal, — beyond the human to the Divine. As an instinct- ive and original principle, it does not define and set forth distinctly its own object. The nature and attributes of the Divine Being must be the subject of inquiry, and to that in- quiry both natural conscience and the religious sentiment urge us to apply our understanding and reason. The result is the knowledge of a God who is from everlasting to ever- lasting, who is also holy, just, and good. As a Holy Being, He deserves our reverence. As a good and gracious Being, our Benefactor and Father, He merits our gratitude ; and as possessing these perfections in infinite measure, directed by In- finite Wisdom, and operating with Infinite Power, it follows as a clear conviction of conscience that our Reverence, Adora- tion, and Gratitude should know no bounds, and should burn with intense and undying fervor. ''Love the Lord thy God," is but the expression of that law which bids us honor the good and love those who are kind to us. " Love the Lord thy God, ivith all thy mind and soul and strength" is but the necessary result of that law, when connected with the fact that Divine Perfections are boundless as compared with hu- man, and should be the objects of a corresponding order and depth of adoration and love. The action and reaction of the moral and the religious sentiments, with respect to each other, are well worthy of study. We touch upon three phases merely, — {a) when they co-operate, {b) when there is dejiciency in the one or other of these sentiments, and (r) when they are antag07iistic. {a) The religious sentiment aids conscience, — i. By prompting it to investigate the character and requirements of God ; it does this in conjunction with prudence. 2. By giving to re- ligious duties, which conscience recognizes, an urgency and an awful consequence which they could not have if viewed by the light of Reason and the moral sentiments alone. These would tell us that God deserves honor ; but, invisible 412 THE THREE WITNESSES. and inconceivable as that God is, how can man rera^er it? The religious sentiment meets this question by causing us to feel the presence and majesty of the Invisible One, and by im- parting at once a glow, and a self-sacrificing depth and force to our homage. It seems to discharge, in respect to our re- ligious duties to God, something of the same office that is rendered by a chivalrous sentiment of self-respect and magna- nimity in regard to our own social and relative duties. 3. To actions not specifically religious, this sentiment serves also to impart a quasi-religious character, since it leads us to recognize God in everything. When we open the New Testa- ment, we read that whether we eat or drink, or whatever we do, we are to do all to the glory of God. At first sight this requirement strikes us as somewhat strange and unreasona- ble ; and yet, when we consider that God dealeth with us as with children, that we are his offspring, living, moving, and having our being in Him, and indebted to Him as no earthly child can be to earthly parent, who does not recognize the obligation of remembering and honoring God in all our ways? A son, if pious and ingenuous, will feel that in acts not per- taining strictly to his filial duties and relations, he should still respect the slightest wish of his father; 2, he will also feel that, as the son and heir of such a father, he should do no- thing unworthy of the nobleness of his lineage ; 3, that as a son, too, he should, when acting in the presence of men, be jealous of his father's fair fame, and avoid whatever could tarnish it; and 4, that to all sensitive creatures formed by God, and objects of his kind and unwearied care, our hearts should go out in love and tenderness, because they came from Him at first, and are still his own. Over and above what we owe to them as men or as animals, we owe them much as creatures of our Father in heaven. Love thy neighbor as thyself, the second commandment of the Law, is indeed like unto the first: " He that loveth God, should love his brother also." THE SOUL WITiIESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 413 {p) On the other hand, Conscience aids the religions sentiment by imparting to acts, strictly religious, a moral character. It urges us not only to worship, but to worship such a Being alone as is worthy of our adoration. It prompts us to re- member the moral Perfections of God, and to be careful lest we offer Him oblations which He must abhor, — the fruit of fraud or oppression, — the mere homage of the lip or of the body, — voluntary humility and will-worship, — a multitude of sacrifices, but little of justice, judgment, or mercy. Observe, here, that the path to which Conscience and the Religious Sentiment urge us, is the very same to which we are pointed and urged by Prudence. The duties to which we are summoned are at once right, holy, and expedient. Thus in his goodness has God accumulated motives for us to be holy as He is hoi)-. Thus in his righteousness hath He hedged us in with imperative comnr' mds, coming' alike from conscience, from the religious sentiment, and from self-interest ; so that, if we obey not, we are sinners in a threefold sense against our own souls as well as against the iVIost High. But what is the effect of such commands and motives ? Are men living as becomes them? Alas! it has ever been the great complaint of the wisest and best of our race that what they would not that they did, and what they would that they did not. They have united — the purest and the largest minded — in confessing that, if they master their evil appetites and live as becometh worthy members of society, they have reason to own that it is " God that saves them." A sense of moral weakness and insufficiency, a sense, too, of guilt before the pure and perfect Law, — are not these found in every hu- man heart that attentively considers its own state and duty ? And this mournful failure, this sense of guilt, attested by every altar that smokes, and every priest that intercedes, is evidence that we need more than natural, even supernatural strength. That which the Religion of Nature cannot supply, indemnity, reparation, remedy for past delinquency, and guar- 414 THE THREE WITNESSES. antee against future dereliction, this must be supplied by a Religion above Nature, by one that comes directly, and for this express purpose, — even from God. {c) We come now to consider a few cases in which Con- science and the Religious Sentiment fail to co-operate. What are the consequences? The first effect is the weakness of each. Without a sense of religion, conscience will, of course, urge us with insufficient power to the worship and service of God. It will be feeble, too, in respect to our social and rela- tive duties, when not enforced by a sense of the Divine Pres- ence and Authority. So, on the other hand, without an active and enlightened conscience, the religious sentiment will exhale in sighs and poetical visions, in myths and dreams, or in high but unfruitful speculations on the Philosophy of Re- ligion. Another effect will be seen in the injury to the general interest of practical Religion and practical Morality. On the one side, the moralist, who repudiates the religious sentiment, will be likely to repudiate religious duties, restricting mo- rality to a mere recognition and discharge of our relative obligations. Beginning with a mutilation of the truth, it is but natural that even in that which he retains his views should be partial and superficial. Recognizing some duties, but neg- lecting others, and being more intent on their external ap- pearance than on their internal character, he may pay his debts, and yet not spare some of the most sacred rights of his neighbor, such as rights of reputation, of feeling, of virtue. On the other hand, the religious man, neglecting morality, may do deeds that angels might weep over; offering tithe of mint, cummin, and anise, but neglecting the weighter matters of the law; hating his brother while he is persuaded he loved God; full of wrath and uncharitableness, but thinking it only zeal for the service of the Most High. The malignant power of the religious sentiment, when di- vorced from conscience and leagued with some of the inferior THE SOUL WITNESSING TO THE HOLINESS OF GOD. 415 principles of our nature, may be seen in various forms of Pagan superstition, and in the corruptions of the Rehgion of the Old and New Testament. The Rationale of these corrup- tions, considered in their origin, may be seen by taking three varieties, — («) when the religion is the product, jointly, of the religious sentiment, of intelligence, and of sensuality ; the re- sult being a luxurious and pompous religion, employing the lower forms of art, appealing to the imagination only through sense, repudiating moral instruction, and delegating to the priesthood only, rites, pageants, and processions. [b) When it is the product of the religious sentiment of intelligence and of a more sesthetical spirit; the result being a more contemplative and sentimental worship, allied to a higher art, but inoperative in practice, without stern purpose or clear and commanding instruction in duty. ( turns when it would gain the highest wisdom or the surest solace. Its appeals ring like a trumpet -summons on the heart and conscience of all who are alive to duty or to the soul's eternal weal ; and when we reach the evening of our life, or stand on the verge of the eternal world, then it is that the still, small voice of this same word is all our stay. Must not this word be more than human ? can it be in its power and fulness less tlian Divine ? Another cliaracteristic of Scnptiire teaching marking it as Di- vine is its most discriminating recognition of the functions 492 THE THREE WITNESSES. proper to the Objective and the Subjective. All things, said the wise man, are double. There are realities, objects, truths, and duties without, there are corresponding faculties for perception, emotion, volition within. One philosophy, like that of Locke or Aristotle, overlooks too much the subjective ; another, like that of Plato and the transcendental thinkers of our own day, neglects too much the objective. To maintain a proper relation between these two factors is important everywhere ; but pre- eminently so in Ethics and Theology. Iii Religion, where- ever all instruction from without is rejected or greatly under- valued, fanaticism the most wild and absurd, or unbelief the most licentious, invariably ensues. The human mind has inward powers and intuitions ; but on every subject they in- volve but a capability which must be developed, and the development of which may be essentially and deplorably ab- normal. To build, therefore, only on what is given us from within is to build on that which is most capricious and un- certain ; and, on the other hand, to look abroad with no refer- ence to the deep-seated moral and spiritual instincts of our nature, with no use of our own reasoning faculty, is to abne- gate the highest prerogative we have from God. Here, as everywhere, the Bible steers clear of Scylla and Charybdis. It offers itself as an objective Revelation, rendered necessary, in part, by the limited nature of our faculties, in part by the obscuration induced through sin, in part by the feebleness and fickleness of our powers. We feel, if we are not infatuated with self-complacency, that our minds need to rise above themselves ; that to do so there must be a jixcd support, higher than our intelligence has yet reached, and more stable than our wavering convictions can hope to be ; an unerring criterion to which we can refer our conclusions, and an ever-advancing guide, which shall be to us as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. But the Bible does not overlook the functions which devolve on man as a moral and intelligent being. It addresses THE BIBLE A WITNESS. ^q^ itself, therefore, to his reason as well as to his faith, and it lays emphatic stress upon the greatly-neglected truth that our sub- jective mental and nioml condition determines our capacity to appreciate the truths of Revelation ; that, above all things, he must have an honest and sincere heart who would have the seed of truth and life imbedded in his soul and bringing forth fruit to perfection. The Bible recognizes all men as having a measure of this inherent capacity to apprehend the truth as it is in Christ, but as being better and better qualified for the task in proportion as they are humble, conscientious, and pure- minded. The Bible is remarkable for the purpose at zvhich it aims a nil the success zvith u>hich it pursues it. It aims at nothing less than the moral regeneration of the whole world, — a design which never entered the imagination of the most aspiring statesman or the most large-hearted philanthropist of earlier days. It aims to achieve this sublime purpose by the simple proclama- tion of the love of God in Christ. And does not the history of Christianity demonstrate that this is no dream of en- thusiasm ? The triumphs she has won already prepare us to anticipate her ultimate victory over every existing and every conceivable foe. The Bible is not merely a conser- vator of good already compassed; nor is it merely an author- itative summons to come up higher: it is itself the well- spring, the exhaustless fountain, of the noblest truths and impulses that have been given to mankind. It has not only supplied new views of God, and put its ban on Polytheism, Panthesim, and Superstition ; it has not only solved the awful problem of evil in its relation to man, and taught us the way of redemption through the Son of the Highest: it has invested every individual soul, for which Christ died, with a new and inconceivable dignity; it has developed in all, who have received its great truths in the love of them, a sense of responsibility which takes in both worlds ; it has pro- claimed the idea of a true brotherhood among all men in 494 THE THREE WITNESSES. Christ Jesus, and has thus laid the axe to the root of the tyranny with which man once lorded over woman, patrician over ple- beian, noble over peasant, master over slave ; it has developed the true function of the State as one of the agencies through which the individual mind is to be trained under God to full capacity and taste for all its duties and prerogatives, and as having right to exist and to rule only as it promotes to the uttermost in all its people this high culture. These ideas, when first propounded, met with universal contempt or execration. Slowly but surely, however, they have spread like leaven through bodies politic and social, charging mind after mind with their sacred influence, and gradually achieving that amelioration which places us this day high above the highest condition ever attained under Pagan or Mohammedan sway. And thus are mankind to be always taught of God. Thus have they been learning for six thousand years, — from the Patriarchal to the Mosaic, from the Mosaic to the Christian, stage. In the infancy or childhood of the world, it was the absolute regimen of parents; in its hot and fiery youth, it was the fixed and well-defined do- minion of law as prescribed in the Old Testament ; and in its riper and more thoughtful manhood, it is the gospel of the grace of God. First there is outward truth to make one wise, then there is subjective preparation to receive that truth. There is glory without, hidden from the proud and self-com- placent, but revealed to those who in meekness are babes. There are laws for earlier stages, and there are laws again which shall be fully comprehended in all their applications and cordially obeyed only when society, through a larger ex- perience and a deeper moral sense, shall come to see their wisdom, and to own their sanctity and binding force. What an instrument have we here for regenerating uni- versal humanity! Ours is not a religion for a favored family or a preferred people. We are put in trust of the gospel, and we hold it for mankind, — for the distant, the benighted, the THE BIBLE A WITNESS. 4^)5 down-trodden, the afflicted. Nations in their loftiest successes, in their purest forms of civiHzation, are but travelHng towards the ideal presented in Scripture ; and as new phases of society appear, that Scripture will be found adapted to each so far as it may be legitimate, and be calculated to advance each to new glory and perfection. If this book be of God, then it was written with foresight of all coming conditions of the world, and it will be found to have for every one of them ap- propriate instructions and influences. And it has. For the fearful struggles of our own time it has the only effectual guide; for its struggles between capital and labor; between liberty and order; between Church authority and private judg- ment; between spirituality and formalism; between asceticism and sensuality ; between fatalism and freedom ; between mys- ticism and dogmatism ; between belief and unbelief But if the Bible be such a Regenerator for nations and for the race, it must have capabilities equally great for the culture and improvement of the individual. And what could we de- sire in a book to rouse our dormant faculties, or to invigorate and refine them, that we may not find here ? Holy Scripture comprehendeth History and Prophecy, Law and Ethics, the Philosophy of Life that now is, the Philosophy of Life that is to come. At one time it clotheth its teachings in strains of the sublimest or tenderest poetry, at another in narratives, as beautiful and touching for their simplicity as they are un- rivalled in dignity. It has reasoning for the logical under- standing; it has pictures for the discursive imagination; it has heart-searching appeals for the intuitive powers of the soul. There is no duty omitted ; there is no grace or enjoy- ment undervalued. It provides a sphere for every faculty, and even for every temperament and disposition. This many- toned voice uses now the logic of a Paul, and now the ethics of a James ; here the boldness and fervor of a Peter, and there the gentleness and sublimity of a John. With one it dis- courses of the awful guilt and curse of sin, and points us to 496 THE THREE WITNESSES. tlie only way of escape ; while with another it expatiates on the unutterable love of God, and the attractions of the Cross of Christ. The Bible is no formal, lifeless system of proposi- tions and inferences and precepts. It is as rich in the variety and vivacity of its methods as it is in the overflowing abun- dance of its materials. While it draws some to Religion through the ideal, and some through the real and demon- strable, it allures others by means of the affections and sensi- bilities, and others it overawes, as a son of thunder, by its appeals to conscience and the dread of an hereafter. And how is it if we look to the culture of the intellect merely? How vast is the field which the Bible opens to our inquiries ? What rich results may we not win in almost any conceivable line of research? What discipline does not the proper study of it provide for our reason and our faith, for patience and humility, for fortitude and moderation ? And in respect to those momentous questions, which pertain to God and the soul's destiny, there is light enough for every humble, robust mind, there is darkness enough for every proud and self-con- fiding one. To attain to perfect and all-embracing knowl- edge belongs not to us, who are still in the twilight of our beings, and who are called to work our way, through patient and ennobling labor, to that state where we can see even as we are seen, and know even as wc are known. That way will open gradually, but surely, before all who go forward trust- fully and manfully with the Bible as their guide. They shall have no infallible certainty, but they shall have unshaken and soul-satisfying confidence. To the question of questions, " What shall I do to be saved ?" they shall find an answer on which they can stay themselves in perfect peace. Their assurance will be the gift of no ghostly confessor, it will be the offspring of no sudden and indefinable impression or inspiration. It will be faith, well grounded and settled, an anchor to the soul. It will have the witness within that we love and strive to serve God ; and it will have the witness I THE BIBLE A WITNESS. 497 without that they who do Christ's will shall know of his doc- trine; that the Holy Spirit will guide the meek in judgment, and instruct them in God's way, and that he who cometh, with a faithful and penitent heart, in Christ's name, shall in nowise be cast out. While in this state of warfare, the Christian must expect to be assailed through his understanding as well as through his heart. He may never hope to be exalted therefore here above all necessity of seeking more truth, nor above the duty of guarding against the beguilements of his own heart. The divisions which rend Christendom are not to be ascribed to the insufficiency of Scripture. They are to be ascribed to the insufficiency of man's fallen but self-confident mind ; its insufficiency to discuss without passion, and to decide without prejudice. When men rise superior to selfish pride and in- terest ; when they bring to the study of Scripture a devout and teachable spirit; when they gladly avail themselves of all proper help, and look with becoming deference to the judg- ments of the wise and good ; when they seek truth first of all as a guide in action, not as a weapon for controversy; when they apply to its contemplation both their intellectual and their moral powers, their reason, their conscience, their affec- tions, and an obedient will, they shall not be left in such case greatly to err. God, says Pascal, willing to be revealed to those who seek Him with their whole heart, a7td hidden from those who as cordially fly from Him, has so regulated the means of knoiving Him as to give indications of Himself, which are plain to those who seek Him, and shrouded from those who seek Him not. Here then we rest; not fearing for our Creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve To unsettle or perplex it : yet with pain Acknowledging, and grievous self-reproach, That, tho' immovably convinced, we want 32 498 THE THREE WITNESSES. Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith As soldiers live by courage ; as by strength Of heart, the Sailor fights with roaring seas. Alas ! the endowment of immortal power Is matched unequally with custom, time, And domineering faculties of sense In all; in most with superadded foes, Idle temptations, open vanities Of dissipation; countless, still-renewed, Ephemeral offspring of the unblushing world; And, in the private regions of the mind, Ill-governed passions, ranklings of despite, Immoderate wishes, pining discontent, Distress and care. What, then, remains? — To seek Those helps for his occasions ever near Who lacks not will to use them ; vows, renewed On the first motion of a holy thought ; Vigils of contemplation ; praise ; and prayer, — A stream, which, from the fountain of the heart Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows Without access of unexpected strength. But, above all, the victory is most sure For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield entire submission to the law Of conscience ; — conscience reverenced and obeyed. As God's most intimate presence in the soul, And his most perfect image in the world. — Endeavor thus to live ; these rules regard ; These helps solicit ; and a steadfast seat Shall then be yours among the happy few Who dwell on earth, yet breathe empyreal air, Sons of the morning. For your noble Part, Ere disencumbered of her mortal chains. Doubt shall be quelled and trouble chased away; With only such degree of sadness left As may support longings of pure desire ; And strengthen love, rejoicing secretly In the sublime attractions of the Grave. Wordsworth : The Excursion, lib. iv. i INDEX. Abnormal states of mind, 436. Adaptations, wonderful and manifold, 70. Esthetic culture, 422. Agriculture, its uses, 340. Agassiz and Cuvier, 237. Analysis of the faculties of the mind, 358. Anatomical structure of man, 350-352. Animalcules, food for animals, 319. Animals, primaiy food of, 218. A priori arguments on Divine exist- ence, 56. Argument of Cicero compared with Pa- ley, 148. Atoms point to the beginning of the sys- tem, 211. Attributes of philosophical minds, 173. Archbishop King and Bishop Law, 455. Augustine quoted by Wheweli, 167. Anthropomorphical views of God for- bidden, 249. Anatomists, German, 295. Babbage, the mathematician, 117. Benevolence of God, and the system of prey, 321. Berkeley on motion, 204. Bible, religion of nature recognized in, 32. remarkable for its purpose, 493. a regenerator of the nations, 495. Bible a cultivator of the intellect, 496. the history of, 485. contents of the, 487. miraculous element in, 489. Boyle on the study of nature, 17 1. Bodies not annihilated, 227. Buckland and Paley contrasted with Cicero, 148. C. Caoutchouc, how obtained, and its uses, 329- Chemistry a religious teacher, 205. Chemical affinity, laws of, 206. Characteristics of extinct fossils, 271. Christianity minds not high things, 249. Carbon and hydrogen burned in the blood, 215. Causation, idea of, 54. Combes, George, on the constitution of man, 133. Comte's view of science and the su- pernatural, 128. Combination of elements, limited, 209. Conscience aided by the religious senti- ment, 411. defectibility of, 399. adjustable, not adjusted, 400. Constancy of purpose, 267. Constituents of blood and bones, 219. Connection between natural and Divine truth, 136. Contrast of organic and inorganic prop- erties, 242. (499) 500 INDEX. Corruption of the people, 415. Cultivation of the intellect, 421. Culture, sesthetic, 422. D. Dead substances, uses of, 331. Death of an infant, and of an old saint, 435- David and Job in advance of science, 200. Devil loves evil as evil, 403. Defectibility of conscience, 399. Dilemma of Epicurus, 454. Diderot misunderstood Bacon, 153. Different elements in our humanity, 37 1 . Divine benevolence, 315. Divine wisdom upholding life in plants, 308. Divine unity, 291. Distribution of species, 286. Doing all to God's glory, 412 Doctrine of final causes, 154. E. Egyptian and Indian astronomy, 165. Effects of death in plants, 2^9. Elements limited in their combination, 209. Embryotic theory, 282. Emotional functions in man, 374. Emotional power of conscience, 397. Enjoyment of life by animals that fall a prey to others, 324. Ends to be attained by life on earth, 299. Events point to the first cause, 93. Every animal complete in its parts, 236. Evil may educe good, 456. overcome by good, 88, 89. Exuberance of creative skill, 276. Events or sequences, religious teachers, 77. F. Fallibility of the discerning power, 396. Faith in an aft:r-life, 437. Fearful power of insects, 254. Fecundity of animals, 256. Final causes, 93, 302. Food on which animals subsist, 297. Foresight, indications of, 272. Formation of milk, and its properties, 221. French philosophers, how poisoned, 175- Freethinkers may learn wisdom from the past, 160. Free, deliberative spirit in man, 346. Friction, gravity, etc., 182, 189. Functions of life, 240. G. Galen and Stillingfleet against the Epi- cureans, 201. Georgics of the mind, 464. German anatomists, 295. Gravity, friction, inertia, 182-189. Graduated force, Stahl, 208. Grandchildren and their seniors, 382. Greenlander's reasoning, 145. God, personal or impersonal, 367. H. Happiness found everywhere, 390. Heat, animal power, etc., 189-195. Hereditary transmission, 277. Higher spiritual being than man, is there any? 361. Holiness a proof against the contagion of vice, 401. Hume's objection to the analogy of man's works and those of Creator, 106. Humility and love of truth, attributes of philosophical minds, 173. I. Ideal and actual, 437. Ideal period, past and future, 439. Imagination at different periods in life, .387. INDEX. 501 Immortality, 412, 424, 426. Inductive inquiry, not absolute but con- tingent, no. Inductive philosophy and natural re- ligion, 147. Indications of foresight, 272. Influence of plants and animals on man, Inorganic nature, 225. Inferior forms of life, 334. Inscriptions and monuments, 169. Instinct of the bee and the beaver, not intelligence, 105. Insoluble difficulties teach modesty, 453. Instinct answers anxious questions, 363. Instinctive feeling of the supremacy of mind, 433. Intellectual pride rebuked, 163. Involuntary mechanical functions, 198. Irreversible law would supersede prayer, 134. J. Job and David in advance of science, 200. Jesus of Nazareth a reformer, 416. L. Law of man's nature, 40, Law, fixed and irreversible, would su- persede the necessity for prayer, 134. Laws of chemical affinity, 206. Language of Scripture popular, not sci- entific, 162. Leaves, under the microscope, 309. Life, originated and sustained, 232. maintained by Divine benevolence, 315- a state of pupilage for the future life, 458- illustrative of Divine power, 246. M. Man's nature, law of, 40. Man a machine, 196. Man formed to dwell in every part of the earth, 220. conscious of personality, 369. possesses a free, deliberative spirit, 346. Man's organism, 349. body a witness against materialism, 344-354- welfare promoted by inferior creat- ures, 328. Means of self-preservation, 310. and ends, 55. Metaphysical assumption, hostility of, 103. Mind recoils from an eternal succession of secondary causes, 96. Miracles, theory of, 1 14. Mirbel, the botanist, on winter, 255. Milton's Areopagitica, 460. Miraculous element in the Bible, 489. Monuments and inscriptions, 169. Motion, perpetual, impossible, 212. Model man, who is the ? 420. Moral discipline, what is in the phrase ? 459- Multiplicity of animals and vegetables, 252. N. Nature, oi-ganic and inorganic, 225— 229. and revelation on the character of God, 125. uniformity of, 430. Newton classified objects, 80. on inductive study, 176. Noxious and harmless materials, 224, O. Object of the volume, 17. Objects and events as teachers, 62. cause or origin of, 74. not recognized without reference to their cause, 230. 502 INDEX. One object the representative of many, 73. Order and uniformity as explained by skeptics, 107. Organism of man, 349. Organs of sensation, reflection, etc., 353- Origin of species, 235. Organic chemistry, 213. Philosophers, influence of Theism on, 46. Philosophy and theology, connection of, 136. Physical sequence of laws, 83. Physiology and anatomy, 200. Peculiarities of character influenced by education, 467. Personal identity, 432. Pity for the wretched, 379. Policy that wins the multitude, 380. Pleasures and pains instruments of moral government, 445. Plants prepare the soil for each other, 312. Plants and animals of the past same as those of the present, 269. Problem of immortality, 426. Probable influence of death, 450. Prey, system of, does it compromise the benevolence of God? 321. Principles, original and instinctive, 375. Prudence a rational principle, 405. auxiliary to conscience, 405. Products of vital action, 241. Primary food of animals, 218. Providence, diff"erent views of, 129, 130. Province of theology and philosophy, 140. Perpetual motion impossible, 212. Psychical endowments of the sexes, 370. Purposes of the Bible remarkable, 493. Plants and animals, adaptation between, 313- R. Radical diff"erence between mind and organism, 434. Regard for the becoming in man, 406. Relations of science and revealed re- ligion, 141. Religion of nature recogjnized in the Bible, 32. Relation between organic and inorganic bodies, 274. Revelation and science, 157. natural and supernatural, 425. Retribution in after-life, 441. according to character, 443. supplies much needed here, 446. moral and final, 447-453. Resemblances and aflSnities of objects, 64. S. Science and revelation, I57' Seeds dispersed over the earth, 311. Seaweed, sponges, fungi, etc., 293. Self-determining power, 465. Skepticism, various degrees of, 24. has nothing to console the mind, 50-52. Soul a witness to the Divine benevo- lence, 373, 417. a witness to its own destiny, 412. Stillingfleet and Galen against the Epi- cureans, 201. Statics and dynamics, 181. Stahl on graduated force, 208. Steam-engine an instrument of civiliza- tion, 264. Study of final causes, 305. Supremacy of mind, 433. Subjective point of view, 449. Something not yet attained, 438. Success the true criterion, 408. Some things to us a veiled picture, 304. INDEX. 503 Spontaneous generation, theory of, ex- ploded, 239. Study, Newton on inductive, 176. Testimony of wise men, of history, and of languages, 37-39. Theism of the Christian Scriptures, 42, 46, 52. Testimony of Agassiz and Cuvier, 237. Theory of miracles, 1 14. Theologians not always meek, 174. Three eventful periods in life, 463. Transmutation of species, 280. The earth a mighty sepulchre, 258. The life-power a witness for Divine wis- dom, 265. The discerning power, 393. U. Unbelief the exception, 40-42. Unity of the human race, 288. Uses of dead substances, 331, Universal belief of future existence, 426. Uniformity of nature, 430. Uniting affections or friendly ties, 388. Variable character of all our powers, 383- Veiled picture, some things such to us, 304- "Vestiges of Creation" criticised, 285. Vital functions and organs, 433. Vital dynamics in plants, 261. Virtue, what is it ? 420. Vital action, products of, 241. W. Whewell on combination of elements, 210. quotes Augustine, 167. Will and religious sentiment, 409. Who was the perfect man? 461. Work, object of this, 17. Worship, instinctive disposition of man to, 53- Works on natural science modify those on natural religion, 149. What is the Divine nature? 365. Will there be retribution? 441. What indications of a future life in our mixed nature ? 429.